#damn I draw a lot of women

[skeletonnerdy]

Art Summary 2024,,

Happy New Year Eve!! It think this year was a good art year for me, I’ve had a lot of fun and I feel like there’s a level of consistency in my work for this year, but what do I know. Anyways, I really appreciate everyone who has been so kind and encouraging to me and my art <33 Thank you

[bumblingbabooshka]

His name is Spring and when Amandus told him that that was a season on Earth he stared at him blankly until he changed the subject [didn't know how to respond] [Patreon | Commissions]

[queenlua]

i feel like, in 2000s/early-2010s era Hacker News, everyone would've regarded the "pronatalist" weirdos with obvious disdain and hostility, because for all their faults, the website's entitled-west-coast-libertarian vanguard had a very good and correctly-tuned hairpin-trigger reaction to anything with the faintest whiff of "impingement on individual liberty"

and now it feels like i can't go one damn day on that site without a whole flurry of earnest discussion to the tune of How Can We Make Our Women More Barefoot And More Pregnant, where everyone's casually tossing around shit like "maybe women shouldn't go to college until their 30s" or "maybe we should restrict access to birth control" as though those aren't the most insanely fucked ideas ever

[neverendingford]

.

[generalzar0ff]

i should make vocaloid fan art tomorrow

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter three

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

tw: slight body issues in this chapter.

wc: 3.2k

-

The wedding was in a week and you found yourself out shopping with the triplets trying to find Chris a tie that would match your dress, which was just a simple, deep red, slim fitting, sleeveless dress. It was sexy and flattering, but nowhere near enough to draw attention from the bride or bridal party.

You had been shopping for a while, mostly goofing off, but now you guys had made it to Men’s Warehouse and were actually looking for what you needed. You carried around a swatch of your dress color so you could find something as close as possible, holding it up to every dark red tie you found, but nothing was to your liking just yet.

“How about this one?” Chris asks, holding another one up, and you walk over and hold up your swatch, shaking your head. “Too bright,” you say, to which he groans.

“We’ve looked at like twenty different ties, one of these has to match,” he complains, putting the tie back.

“The perfect match is out there, I know it is. We just have to keep looking,” you tell him, still perusing the array of options throughout the store.

Matt and Nick followed behind you guys, chit chatting with each other while you and Chris bickered over whether or not the reds matched, which they obviously didn’t.

“Haven’t you ever seen those pictures on the internet?” You ask Chris.

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you. “Very descriptive, I definitely have,” he replies sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “You know, the ones where girls ask their boyfriend if they can tell the difference between two really similar nail polishes? Most of them can’t tell the difference, but women can! So when you say that these ties are ‘close enough’, they’re just not. It has to be perfect, these pictures are going to be around forever, and as much as I wish you weren’t in the pictures, I at least want to make sure we look good.”

“Stop comparing me to a boyfriend, dude, it’s getting weird,” Chris shudders at the thought and you just shake your head, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a damn thing you were saying and is just trying to rush through this store. “How about this one?”

Chris holds up a tie for you to look at, and you hold your swatch up to it, instantly beaming up at him. “It’s perfect!” You tell him, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “See? Don’t you see how well that matches?”

He looks down at the two colors pressed together and reluctantly nods. “Yeah, that looks pretty good,” he agrees.

“Great!” You smile, grabbing the tie from his hands. “Now we buy this and we’re all done.”

Chris lets out a sigh of relief and turns to his brothers, ready to be done conversing with you for the time being. He makes eye contact with Matt who smiles at him and mouths the words ‘help me’ while pointing towards your frame that happily skipped up to the register.

Matt laughed and patted Chris on the shoulder. “You agreed to it,” he tells him.

Back at the triplets house, you’re all crowded in Nick’s room, your dress laid out on his bed and Chris’s suit laid right next to it. “You put yours on first,” you tell him.

You wanted to see how you guys looked together before the actual day of the wedding, so you decided to try everything on now that you guys were both home and had corresponding outfits. You had brought your dress over earlier before you went shopping so that it was ready for you when you guys got back home.

Chris picks up his suit from the bed and walks into Nick’s bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“How are you handling being Chris’s girlfriend?” Nick asks curiously, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You just laugh. “It’s not that bad, we just take pictures together every so often, but it’s just pictures. As much as I hate it I just have to remind myself that he’s giving me a date to a wedding so I don’t have to hear everyone asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend. A couple pictures in return for a night of silence sounds like a win to me.”

Nick and Matt chuckle, still shocked that you guys agreed to help each other in such an intimate way, considering your history.

“Why do I have a feeling you guys are going to fall in love?” Nick teases, but you just scoff at him.

“Yeah, right. I’d rather date you,” you smirk at Nick and make a kissy face towards him, leaning in like you were going to kiss him.

Nick cringes and puts his hand in your face, pushing you away as you guys hear the door open, Chris walking out in his suit, his tie in his hand.

“I, uh, don’t know how to tie this,” he says shyly, holding it out, clearly embarrassed.

You look around at his brothers and see them both looking just as clueless as Chris did. “Seriously?” You ask them.

“Our mom or dad always did it for school dances,” Matt tells you. “Never really worn a tie other than that.”

You huff and stand up off the bed, walking over to Chris, snatching the new tie out of his hands. “You guys are helpless,” you mumble, starting to situate the tie around his neck.

“‘M not helpless,” Chris says lowly, his voice slightly pouty.

“Oh, of course not,” you reply, looking up at him. “You’re just a twenty one year old boy that doesn’t know how to tie a tie, or fill out forms, or make a restaurant reservation…” you trail off.

“The fuck? I made a reservation for you and Matt tomorrow,” he argues.

“Tomorrow?” Matt whips his head around to look at his brother.

“Yeah?” Chris responds, looking at Matt over your head. “I told you I’d book it and then let you know when it was.”

“You didn’t think to ask first? Chris, I have plans,” Matt groans.

Chris’s eyes widen. “What fucking plans?! You never go anywhere.”

“I have an actual date tomorrow, I can’t make that. You should’ve told me when it was first or asked when I was free,” Matt tells him, finality clear in his voice.

“Kid, I had to put fucking a deposit down for this place, it’s non refundable. You need to go. Just reschedule your date.” Chris tells him.

Matt shakes his head, looking at Chris seriously. “No, dude, I’m not rescheduling. You should’ve asked.”

Chris groans and throws his head back, currently hating his life. You finish up with the tie and reach up to brush off Chris’s shoulders, then swipe your hands down his arms quickly before backing away. “Done,” you tell him, admiring your work. “You know, you could just suck it up and grab dinner with me. I’m not the worst person to be around.”

Chris turns around and goes back in the mirror to look at himself, shrugging a bit. “I’d prefer not to, but I also don’t want to lose my deposit.” He walks back out of the bathroom and past you, going to sit on the bed. “Alright, try your dress on now so I can take this off.”

You nod and grab your dress before walking into the bathroom, shutting the door after you. You slip off all of your clothes and step into your dress, pulling the straps over your shoulders. It fits well, and when you bought the dress a couple of months ago, you fell in love with it and the way it looked on your body, but now as you stare in the mirror, pulling the sides tight against your waist as the zipper was still down in the back, you couldn’t help but focus on all the imperfections staring back at you in the mirror. It almost makes you fully take the dress off and call it a day, figuring you’ll just put it on the day of the wedding and suck it up, but you would feel too bad making Chris get dressed up just to back out.

You’ve never explicitly told any of the triplets about any of your insecurities, just threw a few self deprecating comments out there like people normally do, and for the most part you were a confident person, but everyone had their days, and today was just one of those days.

You reach back and try to pull the zipper up, but you’re only able to zip it about halfway up on your own, so you slip back into your happy demeanor before you open the door and walk out, smiling at the three boys staring back at you. “Can one of you zip me up?” You ask.

Chris stands up from the bed and walks towards you. You’re shocked to see him volunteering without being coerced into it, but say nothing, afraid to startle him back to his senses. You just turn around and move your hair off your back, pulling it over your shoulder and he reaches out, grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up. “Good,” he tells you, and you turn back around to face him again.

“How do I look?” You ask the room, smiling wide and putting your hands on your hips dramatically. Chris moves out of the way so his brothers can see you, but keeps his eyes on your body.

“The same as you always look,” he retorts bluntly.

“You look hot,” Nick nods his head enthusiastically in approval.

“What Nick said,” Matt says in agreement. “I’m kind of sad I can’t make it now.”

You giggle at Matt’s words, feeling your ears heat up a little bit. You didn’t necessarily have a crush on Matt, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was attractive and his words did have a little bit of an effect on you.

“Thanks, guys. Come here, Chris, I want to look at us in the mirror.” You tell him and walk back into the bathroom where he follows you.

You both stand in the mirror together, looking at your outfits. You scrunch your eyebrows together and brush your hands over your dress, trying to pull it in a couple different directions to make it look more flattering on your body.

“What are you doing?” Chris asks you, watching you through the mirror as you play with your dress.

“Trying to fix the dress,” you mumble, sucking in a little bit as you turn to the side to stare at your reflection from another angle. “I think I gained a little weight and I just.. don’t really like how this is looking.”

Chris turns to look at you instead of your reflection, seeing how distraught you actually looked by the sight of your body in the dress.

“There’s nothing to fix, the dress is fine.” Chris is clearly uncomfortable at the way you’re speaking, but has no idea how to manage the situation. It was bad enough that he wasn’t good at dealing with other peoples’ emotions, but you two also weren’t close, so his urge to run away was even stronger than normal.

“It’s not the dress, I just…” your voice falters, eyes still glued to your body in the mirror. “I look bad.”

“Stop it,” he tells you, reaching out to turn your body towards his. You turn and look up to meet his eyes, your own starting to well with tears. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffle and shrug your shoulders, unable to speak in fear of your voice giving out on you.

He reaches behind himself and shuts the door, blocking his two brothers from earshot of you guys. “Why are you crying?” He asks you again, more firm this time.

You look down at the ground, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m just upset at how I look,” you tell him, voice high pitched and squeaky. “I really liked this dress when I got it but… I don’t know how I feel now.”

Chris sighs and reaches forward, placing a finger under your chin so he could tilt up your head. “Stop crying,” he tells you. “You look really good in that dress. Your body is incredible and you know it, that’s why you always walk around my house in your little booty shorts and a sports bra, isn’t it?”

You cough out a laugh and reach up to wipe a couple tears that fell down your cheek. “Not really, I’m just really comfortable around you guys. Even you wouldn’t think to comment on my body. You’re dumb but you’re not that dumb.”

Chris rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head. “Well, I’m commenting on it and I’m telling you that you look fine. Girls would kill to look like you. Once you do your hair and your makeup and shave your legs or whatever girls do you’ll feel way better about how you look. So, sort yourself out, change back into your clothes and go cuddle with my brothers or whatever weird shit you do with them.”

You smile and nod, the tears subsiding almost completely as he speaks. “Okay,” you mutter. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chris replies. “Seriously. Ever. I don’t ever want anyone knowing I… comforted you.”

You giggle at his words and watch as he turns to leave the bathroom before you try and stop him.

“Wait, Chris,” you touch his shoulder and he turns around, looking at you confusedly. “I need you to unzip me.”

“Oh,” Chris starts, moving his feet to come back to you. You turn around and place your hands over your breasts to hold the dress in place once it’s unzipped and he reaches up to unzip it down to your lower back, the small spaghetti straps falling off of your shoulders as he does so. “There you go.”

You turn back around to face him, still holding the dress. His eyes couldn’t help but wander, taking one last look at your body, so close to being completely naked in front of him. All you had to do was let go and the dress would fall to the floor-

“I said thanks,” you say loudly and Chris clears his throat, looking back up to your eyes. He doesn’t respond, just leaves the bathroom and shuts the door, not even speaking to his brothers before he leaves Nick’s room and heads towards his own.

You turn back to the mirror and drop the dress, staring at yourself a few minutes longer, and the more you stand there, the more you feel your mood shifting, and what started as a judgmental and negative stare slowly turns into you checking yourself out, posing for yourself almost completely naked apart from your underwear. You hum to yourself and send a wink towards your reflection before getting dressed again, walking into Nick’s room.

Right now you wore sweatpants and a loose crop top with the collar cut out so it hung off your shoulders, but you strutted over to Nick’s dresser where you had some clothes you had left and he had so graciously washed for you, digging out a pair of old Nike pros and a sports bra, turning around and smirking at the boys that watched you from the bed, eyes wide.

“What… happened in there?” Nick asks, scared for the answer.

You just giggle and rip your shirt over your shoulders in front of both boys, causing Matt to gasp and cover his eyes with his fingers, though he might’ve kept a small slit between his pointer and middle finger, who knows, whereas Nick’s eyes just got even wider, his eyes trailing over your body as you pulled the sports bra over your head, changing your bottom half next until you were fully changed, letting Matt know he was okay to look.

“I know you’re my best friend but I am still only a man,” Matt tells you, not so subtly checking you out, which only boosted your confidence more. Maybe you were searching for validation in the wrong people, but fuck it you needed it right now and if Matt and god forbid Chris were going to be the men that made you feel like they were going to melt at the sight of you then so be it.

“It’s like window shopping,” you tell Matt with a grin. “You can admire but you can’t touch.”

Matt couldn’t help his cheeks turning slightly darker at your words. “Sure…” he replies, definitely not sure.

“Anyway,” you start, clapping your hands together. “You guys hungry? I’m in the mood to cook.”

-

You had scrounged up what you could in the triplets’ kitchen and ended up cooking them some basic pasta, throwing all the boys’ portions onto a plate along with your own, putting everything on the table, calling Matt and Nick to the table who sat on their couch waiting patiently for dinner to be ready.

“I’m gonna get your brother,” you tell them with a smile before skipping towards the stairs, heading down them quickly. “Chris?” You call, standing in his doorframe.

He glances up at you quickly then back down at his phone before he rips his head back up, doing a double take, eyes scanning over the new outfit that had adorned your body. “Uh,” he drawls, looking up to meet your gaze. “Can I help you?”

You smile and place one foot on top of the other, your front knee buckled slightly, hands placed on the doorframe as you stared back at him where he lay on his bed. “I made dinner. You coming?”

Chris thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.” He tells you, looking back down at his phone.

You huff and walk over to him until you’re standing next to his bed, reaching down to grab his phone and pull it behind your back. “Already made you a plate.” You tell him.

Chris furrows his eyebrows and sits up on the bed, quickly getting frustrated with you. “Stop fucking doing that shit every time your spoiled ass doesn’t get what you want. Give me my fucking phone.” He says aggressively, voice a tad louder than it normally is.

“Not until you come have dinner with us. I don’t want your food going to waste,” you pout, both hands now securely locked behind your back, phone held sideways between them. “Don’t be so rude, it’s fucking annoying.”

Chris scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m rude? You’re just coming in my room and snatching shit out of my hands like a fucking toddler, that seems pretty rude to me.”

You take a tiny step closer to Chris, jutting out your bottom lip. “Please?” You beg.

He’s still for a moment, and at first when his body starts to move, your first thought is that he’s giving in and standing up to go have dinner with you and his brothers, but you’re quickly proven wrong when he stands up and grabs your bicep, flipping your body around. You squeal at the sudden movement, stumbling over your own to feet as he spins you.

What you definitely didn’t expect was him facing you towards the bed and grabbing your hands that were still behind your back with one hand, his other hand taking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. He pushes you down on the bed aggressively, your feet still on the floor but your body bent over with your chest pressed into the mattress, leaning over your back until his mouth was next to your ear, making sure you heard the words that were about to fall from his lips.

“Watch your fucking attitude around me before I fucking make you.”

He aggressively shoves your arms, pushing you into the bed roughly as he lets go of you, glaring your way as he starts to walk out of his room, eventually turning his head and exiting, stomping up the stairs.

You use your now free hands to push yourself up until you’re standing straight again, then use them to reach up to your bun that almost completely fell out, grabbing the hair tie and ripping it out.

It took you a moment to process what had happened, but you thought back to it and how it made you feel, and most importantly the newfound throbbing between your legs. You stand there in silence, arms dropped to your sides, until you let out a quiet and confused,

“What the fuck?”

-

a/n: the tension is buildinggggg yall feel it??

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @noplaceissafeanymore @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion

[f1byjessie]

IN FAIR VERONA ━━ CL16.

things are hard when you're the only female in a male-dominated space, and the newest driver for the newest team knows this best.

( charles leclerc x driver!schumacher!reader )

━━ part one.

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yourusername feeling blue?

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user i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now 

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING SO HARD RN 😩

user y/n schumacher never misses

↳ user let’s be real here user the entire schumacher family never misses

↳ user y’all have seen mick’s most recent post too right??

user she is so gorgeous i am ILL

user god really does have his favorites huh 😭😭

↳ user this is undeniable proof

↳ user people this beautiful don’t actually exist i refuse to believe it

user every day i wake up and cry that i will never be as stunning and skilled as her

user formula 2 silly season has me losing my damn mind i swear 😫 i might as well be wearing a tin foil hat with the number of theories i’m following and the consistent blue themed posts y/n keeps dropping are NOT HELPING

↳ user not to add to your conspiracy madness, but it’s already confirmed that fred vesti is replacing jehan daruvala who’s moving to mp motorsport, and there are rumors that oliver bearman is also getting a prema seat which could mean that y/n schumacher is going to another team as well or leaving f2 entirely

↳ user a good chunk of the other teams have already revealed their driver lineup and none of them include schumacher, which doesn’t leave a lot of options IF the rumours are true

↳ user i can’t see her just leaving motorsports entirely considering she’s worked so hard to get where she is 🤔 which calls into question whether she’s moving to a different racing series

↳ user i really can’t see schumacher leaving tbh, especially since she’s been in f2 since 2017 and has established herself as a prema legend basically

↳ user the fact that she has been at prema for so long (and has gotten p2 in the f2 championship nearly every year since 2017) could also be proof that she’s moving on to bigger and better things

↳ user wait she’s been there HOW LONG??? since 2017??? as in she drove with charles leclerc, her brother mick, AND oscar piastri??? 🤯🤯🤯

↳ user she’s had a very long and successful career there, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to retire from formula racing and move onto some other series that’s more woman-friendly, all things considered 🤷‍♀️. she has been runner-up every year that she’s competed, proven that she has what it takes to make it in a higher level of formula racing, and yet not a single f1 team has even offered her the opportunity to be even a test or reserve driver? 🤨 something isn’t adding up and i don’t want to say it’s because she’s a girl in motorsports but it’s kind of hard to ignore the proof when it’s put right in front of you.

↳ user guys the keyword is “if” here, of course, bc as fun as it is to speculate it is all still speculation and we won’t know for certain until it’s revealed by official sources. silly season is called that for a reason, and for all we known y/n is drawing out the announcement of her continued partnership with prema to stir up interest. she’s been in a very loyal and secure partnership with them for years now, a partnership that both she and prema seem very happy to keep considering just how long it’s lasted.

↳ user f2 is another series that once you win the championship you are no longer allowed to compete in, so prema may have kept her around to help carry her male teammates into first place until females are more accepted in formula racing so that she could eventually move up to f1

↳ user prema’s gonna announce her as their driver with vesti and you all are gonna look so fucking dumb for this 🙄🙄

user blue is HER color now 😍

maseratimsg 💙

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yourusername to the women of f1 that came before me, who paved the way, this is for you.

view all 1,380 comments

maseratimsg When you race, they race with you 💙.

↳ yourusername 🫶💙

user Y/N SCHUMACHER??? IN FORMULA ONE??? IN 2023???

user i’ve been following her career for years now and this makes me so excited omg

↳ user me too!! she’ll be the first female to drive in f1 in over 30 years 🤭

user HARD LAUNCH BUT FOR THE 2023 GRID I GUESS

user when maserati announced they’d be getting back into formula racing i had no idea that also meant formula one as well?? they’ve got drivers in the 22-23 formula e season right now but this is how i found out about y/n schumacher driving for the 23 formula 1 season? i think i am going into shock

user 2023 might actually be a good year if this is how we’re gonna be going into it

user WOMEN IN MOTORSPORTS

user milf = man i love females-in-fast-cars

user been watching f1 since i was a kid, always wondered why there were no girls out there driving. this year i’ll get to turn on that tv and finally see someone who looks like me

↳ user it’s so fitting that maserati’s original f1 team also had the first woman f1 driver, and now they’ll be breaking barriers again by having another woman f1 driver in their first season back

↳ user i’m hoping they’ve got a good car ready cuz i wanna see y/n schumacher up on that podium telling everyone who didn’t believe she could do it just cuz she was a girl to eat shit and die 😤😤😤

user there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1. she’s doomed to fail just like all the others smh 🙄

↳ user the biggest reason is sexism, and y/n has consistently proved throughout her career that she is just as skilled if not more than her male counterparts. she works harder to make up for the physical disadvantages she has as a woman, and she still wipes the floor with the other drivers. she’s not “doomed to fail” she’s practically destined to succeed.

↳ user y/n has trained her ass off to be the best, and she’ll prove it when she gets out on the tarmac in bahrain, just you wait 🥱

↳ user she’s literally a 6-time f2 runner up??? sure, she didn’t win, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still incredibly fucking impressive that she’s managed to get p2 against her male counterparts 6 YEARS IN A ROW 👀👀 her brother got p12 his first season and you know what she got? p2. she’s already raced with the likes of charles leclerc, zhou guanyu, yuki tsunoda, alex albon, george russell, lando norris, and a number of other very prominent formula racing names, and she held her own against them all incredibly well. she gave her own brother a real run for his money when they were teammates in 2019 and 2020, and in 2021 she was only a 9 point difference away from oscar piastri, whereas the p3 finalist was nearly a full 60 points below both of them. get out of here with that “there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1” bullshit, because the reason is misogyny 😒🙄

user not to be that person but like??? who else is lowkey excited for potential driver x driver romance?? 🫣

↳ user nah cuz i didn’t wanna make this about that but i’m actually totally ready to see who she has the best chemistry with on the grid 🫢 first hope is charles leclerc cuz they’d be a power couple hands down but also mayhaps max verstappen?? maybe??

↳ user totally agree babes a ferrari and maserati romeo and juliet love story would destroy me 😩

↳ user the parallels are already paralleling

↳ user to add to the parallels, her and charles were teammates at prema in 2017

↳ user OMG RIVALS TO STAR CROSSED LOVERS??? 😭😭

↳ user schumacher and leclerc are about to live out THE fanfic dream i can see it now

user can’t wait to see her mop the floor with these boys next year

user 2023 IS GONNA BE CRAZY 💙💙

user if i see any of those lads talk down about her or dismiss her just because she’s a woman, it’s on fucking sight 💀

↳ user they did that campaign in 2021 about equality in racing and i am BEGGING that it wasn’t just a media ploy and that they actually believe what they said about men AND women being able to drive

user this is about to be the best f1 season in history folks

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maseratimsg Prepare for trouble, and make it double ✌️💙.

view all 1,196 comments

user SCHUMACHER TWINS TEAMMATES AGAIN???

user someone pinch me i think i’m in a dream 😳

↳ user i pinched myself and this is in fact very real

user we knew y/n would be driving for maserati but to also have MICK? maserati picked not one but TWO legacy drivers they have an agenda to push and they are certainly pushing it

↳ user yeah, an agenda to win 😌

↳ user genuinely just imagine how much natural talent and skill will be in that garage come the start of the season with michael schumacher’s twins…

↳ user back in 2020 when they raced together at prema, i saw someone joke that they were made into twins because no singular human being would be able to handle having that much racing prowess, so they were split up. but idk how much of it was actually a joke because they were scarily good as teammates? y/n has always finished no more than 10 points behind p1, and mick is a very powerful driver in his own right. putting them together and letting them drive as allies again instead of rivals will be a sight that’s for sure.

↳ user imagine being nerfed at birth cuz fate knew you’d be too powerful otherwise 😂😂😂

user blue is THEIR color apparently

user it’s the schumachers’ world and we’re just living in it

↳ user schumachers vs the entire f1 grid sounds like an insane clickbait article but the fact that it’ll be real in a few months is crazy

user everyone’s talking about y/n and mick but i’m stuck on the fact that there will finally be 11 teams driving for f1 again

↳ user maserati really said fuck the expectations

↳ user maserati’s gonna get a 1-2 with the schumachers in their first year back i’m calling it now 🤪🤪

↳ user first female driver in f1 in 30 years and first 11th team to drive in f1 since 2016, and i’m betting it’ll be first ever female driver to podium in f1 and first ever female driver to win in f1 too because i’ve seen y/n schumacher’s skill and i guarantee that if she’s actually given the ability to go all out then she’s gonna be a force to be reckoned with

user hope they’ve got a good car planned cuz i wanna see these two put up a good fight

user verstappen better watch his back 👀

user Y/N SCHUMACHER WDC 2023

user at least mick got to drive with seb still on the grid, but i’m actually heartbroken that y/n won’t be able to 😔

↳ user and kimi too

↳ user i think the only drivers left are hamilton and alonso no? from before their dad retired i mean

↳ user perez, hulkenberg, and ricciardo too, but they only drove on the same grid as michael schumacher for a couple years

↳ user i imagine it would suck to lose but i personally would be very proud to see my old friend’s kids standing on a podium above me or beside me 🥹

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mickschumacher from beating you into this world, to beating you in karting (both professionally and casually), i'm so proud to have the chance to beat you in formula 1 too

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yourusername those are fighting words micky 🤨

↳ mickschumacher not sure what you mean 😊

↳ yourusername it’s on sight 👊

user GUYSSS JUST THINK ABOUT THE PADDOCK INTERACTIONS BETWEEN THESE TWO

↳ user the media days boutta be crazyyyy

↳ user i’m imagining the chaos of not just having siblings on the grid together, but twins specifically, and i’m already getting a migraine on behalf of whoever their pr officers are 😅😭

↳ user 2023 is the year they make a geneva convention for the grid prank wars and it’s gonna be the because of the schumachers

user baby photos oh i am unwell 🙃

↳ user i’ve caught a nasty case of baby fever i fear

↳ user they’re both menaces as adults, i wonder how bad they were as little kids

↳ user baby fever cured methinks 😶

user 💙💙💙 MICK P1 2023 💙💙💙

user mick being proud to race with his sister but also making it well known that he isn’t gonna take it easy on her is the type of sibling rivalry content i’m looking forward to seeing this season

↳ user i need all the drivers to have this same mentality bc i know mick is gonna recognize her as the threat that she is, but if any of those lads underestimate her just bc she’s a girl, then their karma will come in the form of eating the dust of y/n schumacher’s car

↳ user PREACH 🙌🙏

charlesleclerc cannot wait to have you both on track this year

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej

━━ a/n: first and foremost, happy international women's day! i've had this sitting around for a little while now and decided that today would be the perfect day to finally share it, what with the themes of women empowerment and breaking the glass ceiling. my main priority will still be my lando series until i can get that finished, but updates for this might appear in between on occasion. i also wanna take a moment just to appreciate the sheer amount of research that went into this, finding a team that would reasonably work well as an 11th team for formula 1 was a bit difficult, but i'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth when maserati fits pretty perfectly. also, as a twin myself, i'm incapable of writing a sibling duo that aren't also twins, and i have zero shame about that. anyways, i'm very excited for this, and i hope everyone else is as well!

[mikawa13]

Every time I look at fanarts of TID I have to take a deep breath because some of the clothes aren't completely period accurate, so I wanted to try to draw them with more accurate dresses.

Charlotte did not take as long as I expected, probably because I always imagined her style in a more simple and elegant style.

I used Cassandra Jean's design for the gear and tried to adjust it a bit following the Codex's information about older versions of the female gear having a skirt, but I just decided to make that padding around the abdomen and hips longer and simulate a skirt (but not too long to not reduce the mobility), whereas the male gear would be shorter and the way that Cassandra Jean did it.

RIP Charlotte, you would've loved jumpsuits QUEEN

(February 4, 2024)

Little Miss Barbie x Regina George (1878 Edition)

Jess was a bit more complicated because she does care about her appearance more and has a more intricate style. And normally I try to not add a lot of detail with Victorian characters because Queen Victoria didn't like makeup and found it vulgar, so women usually went for a natural look. Jessamine paints her dark circles whereas Charlotte naturally has them for obvious reasons. ☠️

Low-key, I loved doing Jessamine's ghost form.

And please let's not talk about my strange doodling attempt with the electrum lace design on the parasol. Halfway through it I started telling myself Henry is not a fashion designer and he tried his best to mimic a lace design with the electrum and hide some runes for her protection.

(February 13, 2024)

I will be honest, I struggled with the color of the dress because I do not imagine Cecily with a plain color dress, but not too intricate as Jessamine's. Everything looked too blue at first and I switched so many colors until it ended up like that. And don't get me started on the hair... It felt ✨WRONG✨ to give her a historically accurate hairstyle considering everyone gives her straight hair down.

So in my head her hair IS straight, she just has to appropriately wear it up. But nothing too complicated. And it's worth mentioning my memory is starting to blur out a lot. I had to check her wiki for the weapon and whatnot, and I found that she was petite and thin. In my head she was about Tessa's height. But I barely remember a lot from the books by now.

But I did try to make her look closely similar to Will. And I think she does look like a female, better, version of him. Also, if you're wondering why she's not wearing the necklace: I didn't realize I didn't add it until I finished coloring the dress and by that point I was so sick of it I left it like that. I had the sketch of the necklace, I just forgot to put it with the dress. 🫠

(March 2, 2024)

Gideon is so lucky. 😩

The suits might discourage me from doing the men because there's not really much difference aside of small details of how each man wears it. But anyway... Back to Sophie.

The damn maid dress. It's simple. It is ten times simpler than Jessamine's dress and YET I was struggling with it. And don't get me started on the scar.

The wiki said it was a big, silver, scar on the left side of her face from the corner of her mouth to her temple. I had an existential crisis trying to figure out how to do it, because in the other set ups of these drawings, I depict them like they're facing me, so the portrait wouldn't have shown the scar.

And it's a problem because I also suck at drawing scars. The first try looked fine but it wasn't silver, then I did this and in one part I guess it's fine because I didn't want to make a pretty scar when it's supposed to be bad and shocking for the time period. But a part of my brain thinks it looks like the fungus from The Last of Us. ☠️

Anyways. You may be wondering, "why didn't you do the Shadowhunter gear?" And it's a simple answer... I wanted to see her in a pretty dress. Of course, I could have done the portrait with the maid dress, the middle with her fancy dress, and the second full-body drawing with the gear but I didn't think about that until 10 minutes before posting. 🫠 And that gear is COMPLICATED (Not really, I'm just tired after the dresses).

(April 10, 2024)

If you are wondering why there is a huge time jump from the last fanart to this, I had a really bad art block and the frustration from the inaccurate dresses brought me back lol

Unfortunately I am currently in another slump 🫠

The next one was supposed to be Tessa but the dresses really frustrated me and I never even started the sketch. Idk if I'll ever finish it. I hope so, but don't get your hopes up.

[bucks-babe]

More Virgin Bucky

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky 

Summary: Bucky jerks off to the memory of your movie night

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: male masturbation, mention of past blowjob, Bucky is a horny boy, reader is not in this one but he thinks about them

A/N: The part two that a lot of yall wanted. Am I a tease? Yes. Bucky does not lose his v-card in this one. BUT I will write a part three I promise. I want to corrupt this man so bad. Also, I wrote this in like an hour sooo. Part of the Virgin!Bucky series but can be read alone

One week. Actually eight days and five hours, but Bucky is the only one counting. That’s how long it's been since you sucked the sense out of your boyfriend. It has taken every ounce of control Bucky has to not ask you to do it again. It’s all he thinks about ever since that night.

He would be embarrassed if you knew, but in all fairness, you did this to him. You effectively made him malfunction. Bucky has been fucking his fist practally every night, replaying the best moment of his life. How your mouth wrapped around him perfectly, the slight gagging sounds, and don’t even get him started on how you looked up at him. 

And when you told him to cum in your mouth? Fuck! His cock pulses at the memory. Bucky is a greedy man - he wants more. He wants you to suck his cock again, maybe you’ll suck on his ball this time, get them all wet and slobbery, make him cum without even touching his cock. 

For the past few days of his incessant horniness, he’s been thinking about something else, too. It always starts out with you, his throbbing cock in your mouth, but there is a shift, you on the bed with his head between your legs. He never gets very far into this fantasy before he cums all over his hand and chest. Something about eating you out has him cumming in seconds.

But Bucky can’t bring himself to ask for what he wants. He’s too embarrassed; no one in the 40’s ever talked about eating their girl’s pussy. He wasn’t completely ignorant to the fact that women’s pleasure wasn’t important to men back then, but Bucky didn’t know if what he wanted was normal, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

As he lies in bed, once again Bucky feels his cock harden in his pants. Luckily for his pride, he’s alone in bed, and nothing is stopping his flesh hand from inching toward his crotch. His balls are so heavy and full even though he jerked himself off twice the night before, cumming so much he had to change the sheets. 

Grabbing his erection, Bucky hissed in pleasure. No matter how many times he’s touched himself this past week, he is still a sensitive baby when it comes to his cock. “Fuck, doll, touch my cock, just like that.” Bucky lets his mind wander to his go to fantasy. He imagines you between his legs, that the hand rubbing his dick is your soft palms and not his callused one.

His hips jerk off the bed, chasing friction of his hand through his boxers. “Go ahead, doll, take it out.” When you aren’t there, Bucky is in charge, making himself feel good, directing you in his fantasy. But can’t help himself but let you take charge when he’s with you. He just gets so nervous, not wanting to let you down and never experiencing pleasure so intense. 

He’s trying to take this slow, drawing his pleasure out, but, hell, you make him so damn horny that he just can’t help but push his boxers down to his thighs, past his heavy balls, and ignores the wet spot on his underwear from his weeping head.

Using his precum, Bucky wraps his hand around his head and slowly pulls his hand down to his base. “Oh, God! Just like that!” He has to squeeze his base to stop himself from cumming at the first stroke of this hand.

Scrambling, he pushes his boxers down to his ankles and spreads his legs, “doll, touch my balls, get them nice and wet.” His metal hand cups his ever growing sack, “shit, yeah that feels fucking great! You feel how heavy they are? All that cum is going down your throat tonight. You hear me, doll?” 

With his metal hand still on his balls, he uses his flesh hand on his cock, imagining your lips instead, you slobbering over his cock, not his precum lubing it. “So good with your mouth, you know that? You’re such a fucking slut.” His thumb traces over the thick vein right under the head of this cock and has Bucky calling you a slut, something he didn’t even know he’d be into, but once that image was in his head he had to take his hand off his cock; he didn’t want to cum just yet. Not when he just started.

Taking deep breaths, Bucky tries to calm himself down, but imaginary you climbs up his body and Bucky knows this is the end. “Sit on my face, doll, and let me eat your pussy.” He closes his eyes for this part, because Bucky has never seen your pussy before, he wonders if you are sporting a bush like the women in his old porn mags did, or if you shave, or wax, Bucky doesn’t give a shit. 

He’s never tasted a cunt before, and has nothing to base it on, but the thought of your entire weight on his face, smothering him with your pussy, makes the most pornographic moan leave his mouth and cum shoots out of his tip without him touching it.

He cums for what feels like minutes before he finally stops and he lays back against his pillow, not having the energy to clean himself off before he falls asleep. He needs to taste your pussy and soon. 

[inkpot909]

Your Relationship Trope (Bucciarati’s Gang)

↳ Gender Neutral Reader. Takes place after the events of Part 5 in a everyone lives!AU.

A/n: It’s been a while! I had to take some time for personal matters, so sorry for my absence. I wrote something just a tad more breezy to help ease myself back into it; I really missed writing. I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): None.

Giorno Giovanna

-> Love at First Sight

This deeply romantic, cheesy, guy.

Because of how much he prides himself on understanding, and by extension owning, his own thoughts and feelings- he could tell there was something drawing him to you the moment he met you. A gut feeling that he’d really care to know you better; one that he knows better than to ignore.

Good luck trying to hide anything from him yourself, either. He is as good at reading others as he is himself.

Therefore, if you felt immediately drawn to him as well, he’s going to notice. You might not say anything outright or maybe try to bury it deep down… but either way, he can tell.

Not that he minds your affections, of course. Giorno gets into this cheeky habit of dangling the concept of a potential relationship above your head. Just out of reach.

Yes, it’s in part because he wants to tease you. Seeing you grow flustered at his unapologetically forward flirtations… it never gets old.

But Giorno is also a very busy individual.

It’s difficult for him to plan meetups with you, being gone for days on end at times. Even up and leaving at the drop of a hat if the need arises. He takes his position seriously, and has been a rather involved Don since day one.

And Giorno is a sucker for the details, so he won’t make the final push to become official unless it’s the perfect moment.

Luckily for you, he’s a patient guy.

And as mentioned, he can read you like an open book. He knows you’re not looking at other men or women. Keenly aware you’re waiting for him to make some grand gesture.

Some guilt inevitably spawns whenever he gets extra busy, but your happiness at getting to see him again quickly puts those worries to rest for the time being.

All that in due time… after all, if it’s really true love, he is in no desire to rush.

That being said, the people in his inner circle would absolutely like him to rush. Who knows about his feelings for you? Everyone.

That’s not hyperbole, he’s fairly certain everyone around him can tell.

He will never shut up about you. In damn near any situation where it may be appropriate. Not in any situation that it would potentially reach your ears.

Mista himself has commented that he doesn’t know which he would prefer: Giorno before a relationship with you or during. Either way he’s ‘dealing with a lovesick fool.’

Giorno doesn’t care much, already knowing it’s something his closest friends ought to get used to. Confident in himself and what he picks up on.

After all, your smile says what his mind is already thinking.

Bruno Bucciarati

-> Reunited Childhood Friends

Bruno Bucciarati is a man that has stuck with the same haircut and pattern of clothing since he was twelve years old.

Of course he’s still not over you by the time of the inevitable reunion. Like Giorno, he’s definitely a ‘one love’ sort of man.

Getting contacted by you felt like a dream… but it also brought forth initial hesitation.

Due to the specific turn his life took, he had to leave a lot of things behind. Some more regrettable than others… and you were one of his biggest regrets for a long time.

Regardless, his heart won that day- as he agreed to meeting up with you faster than he would care to admit.

The excitement and build up to it after a date was set is a beast in of itself. The prospect of finally seeing you again after all these years fills his chest with a warmth he’s only ever associated with you.

His mind whirls, all his thoughts leading back to the hope that he’ll get to know the person you have matured into.

Your career, hobbies, how your family is doing, the path you’ve been walking down ever since he’d left its course far too long ago… and him praying there’s a distinct lack of a ring on your left hand.

Bruno’s glad to say that his hopes were well-placed. Upon seeing you again, you proved to be just as eager to know how he’s been doing all this time.

Your questions leave him feeling bittersweet; something he knew would happen.

How could he even begin to explain himself? Would he even want to? You deserve more than a short explanation or a lie. But he cannot and will not bring you into gang affairs either. And if he was honest…. where would he even begin?

“I committed murder to protect my father when I was twelve and ended up entangled in gang affairs. Sorry for not giving you a phone call.”

… it needs work, to put it lightly.

He’s not the type to succumb to fear but… it’s difficult not to stress over what you would think of him if he’s completely honest with you. It’s a testament to how deeply special you are to him; hardly ever getting this mentally worked up over anything outside his beloved team.

The push and pull of wanting to be honest with you- yet not wanting to risk putting a target on your back.

Whether it’s due to the years of separation or just the undeserved kindness you offer him, at some point, you admit to only thinking of those old days fondly.

Regardless of being quite startled with his sudden absence in your life, you couldn’t hold it against him. You knew of his parents divorce, and the last thing you had heard, was that Bruno’s father was in the hospital.

At first, he’s just resigns himself into being gratefyl you had it within yourself to forgive him.

But how can he hope to ignore… how lovely of a person you have grown up to be- inside and out. In the long run, it just doesn’t happen. His feelings truly snowballing for the first time in years.

Suddenly, he feels like a foolish child again. Only now, he must be doing something right because you could cause traffic to stop with the way you start to look at him.

There’s a warm nostalgia to you. Someone who knows him; truly knows him. Outside of his work and the contradictions he over for it for years.

And it gets to a point where Bruno resolves he must tell you how he feels. And by then, he won’t dally.

You’re back in his life again, and he’s sure as hell not leaving. Especially not without expressing his feelings.

Only took him short of nine years.

Leone Abbacchio

-> ‘We’re Just Coworkers’

He doesn’t necessarily meet people outside Passione, not one to go out of his way to seek companionship.

He has the team. He has Bucciarati. There isn’t much he wants, or feels like he can, ask for.

It’s because of this that you both are most likely to meet through the organization.

And there’s no doubt that Abbacchio is… apathetic to your position in the gang at first.

Now, he’s not as harsh on you as he was comparatively to Giorno. You’re not a fifteen year old with a savior complex and a tendency to act with a sort of righteous grandeur.

So, in short, you’re already doing great as far as he’s concerned.

Not that he warms up to you quickly; quite the opposite. Weeks will pass before he starts to slowly accept and involve you in any meaningful capacity. A guy like him just needs time to get used to someone so new to him… lots and lots of time.

Once that need has been met, he figures you’re alright.

Not bad company- in or out of Passione business. Far favorable to other people around him, as far as he’s concerned. He finds that you’re much better to converse with than Mista or Fugo.

It’s in his nature to compare a little bit, so when he starts seeing you from a fairer perspective… that’s when a quiet appreciation forms.

Alas, his heart is not as immovable as he likes believing it to be.

Over time, the two of you start to metaphorically lean on one another.

It starts off professionally enough, relying on one another in the heat of battle. Then, it gets to a more personal level- quieter conversations maintained between the two of you beneath the usual noise of the others interacting just a foot or two away.

Still, you two only work together. It’s professional. Without question. At least, that’s the case if Abbacchio or you are asked about it directly.

But the others are oh-so-quick-to-point-out that him letting you crash on his bed during particularly exhausting nights is not exactly platonic behavior. Nor is just how sucked into conversations the two of you get, or how much time you spend one-on-one.

And Abbacchio is nothing if not the type to do the exact opposite of what everyone says.

He’s going to deny it for months. Hell, years if you let him.

Never mind the fact the two of you already act like a couple. Getting ‘mistaken’ as one when going out, regardless if it’s just the two of you or not. Each time, you’re both insistent that you’re merely work friends.

It would be ten times more frustrating if there wasn’t any truth to it that neither of you are prepared to admit to.

It takes a healthy amount of whack cartoonish logic for things to finally fall into place. Being locked in a small room for twenty minutes, or possibly an accidental kiss to the lips… that sort of thing.

Guido Mista

-> Coffee Shop Regular

Mista likes the simple things in life, no doubt.

There’s many ways that fact manifests. One example is that he often wanders around the city in order to check out local businesses. Diners, secondhand stores, and little coffee shops. He knows the area well, and likes sparking up conversations with the people he comes across.

And a cute worker at one of his favorite coffee shops? Makes his day even better, he’d figure.

He was already a regular at your place of employment long before you were hired. Meaning, when he saw a new face behind the counter, he had to offer a hello with a relaxed smile on his face.

And to his credit, it was incredibly easy to like him.

The type of customer who’s always in a decent mood, not too impatient, and always knowing what he wanted to order long before walking in.

Sprinkle in a pleasant ‘hello’ or a lighthearted joke every now and then, and he starts to notice your face brightening every time he enters the shop.

He won’t argue against the idea it fills him with something far deeper than pride.

Beyond finding you initially attractive, he considers you a good worker. He cannot imagine being a barista is always easy, but he’d care to point out that you make it look easy. You know his order by memory after a while, and conversation with you comes naturally.

And soon, the workplace barrier is finally shattered. Happening so casually it was practically thoughtless.

One day, Mista walked into the store just when you were sent on a break. He greeted you as always, and offered to sit with you while you decompressed with a cup of coffee of your own.

That’s when he’d say that something a bit more concrete formed. More real, past the relationship of worker and patron.

And he grows unapologetically forward by then too.

He’s not the type to hit on you at work, but certainly not above blatantly asking for your number after he felt it may be appropriate to do so.

He finds it to be a casual and natural progression, something that is in his nature to embrace.

Like Giorno, though, he’ll drag out the time before asking you out just in order to tease you. He doesn’t automatically figure out that you might be into him, but he’ll get the hint by the time you two start calling one another regularly.

He’s not easily affected by the others teasing him over you, either. He openly admits that he’s into you, why get embarrassed?

Now, if someone makes a comment about it in front of you, then he’ll get flustered. An emotion expressed through frustration and defensiveness.

Regardless of that, it’s such a relaxed progression that at some point he thinks meeting you may have been fate. There’s a ton of coffee shops all around Naples, yet you chose to work at one of the small handful he regularly likes visiting.

If his life is predetermined, like he believes it is, then he’s grateful fate is on his side.

Pannacotta Fugo

-> Friends to Lovers

This man looks at someone with a view on love like Giorno and scoffs with distain.

The notion of ‘love at first sight’ is one that is only entertained by foolish and idealistic individuals, according to Fugo. Rolling his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips… he thinks that mindset is ridiculous and is unafraid to express it.

Hell, romantic relationships aren’t even on his radar in general.

He doesn’t look down on or think negatively of anyone in one, of course. But it’s hardly ever on his mind. Focused on Passione and the team he is proud to be a part of.

And that doesn’t change one bit upon meeting you.

As usual, such a thing doesn’t cross his mind once. The prospect of a potential new ally and friend is the only one he cares to ponder, even if you start off on the right foot. He’s a little distant, but polite and fair enough to give you a chance.

Good thing he did to, as far as hindsight is concerned.

A funny individual and someone who hardly ever makes him want to flip a table? He’s glad to call you his friend once a foundation of trust is established.

If he thinks about it, he’d have to admit to himself there’s something very earnest and warm about the relationship.

You’re a good conversationalist, he respects your intelligence, and even silence around you is comfortable.

More than that, you’re reliable. Stress doesn’t come quite as easy whenever you’re around. And when it does, you understand him. You know just what to say and how to say it. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to express the same kindness.

He starts thinking of you when you’re not around, especially when he’s alone. Thinking of anything from a fond or humorous memory, or simply the curve of your smile.

Oh… oh no.

Tackling his own growing feelings is a lengthy process. He wasn’t interested in seeking out a partner, but he catches feelings before he even realizes it.

And figuring out your feelings on the matter? Forget it.

He won’t say a thing unless you make a move yourself, too wary to even admit he could realistically do something himself. A fact the others are quite keen on reminding him of.

His insecurity won’t last forever, though.

Being around you is such a joy that it’s hard to get trapped in his own mind in the moment. That smile on your face, and sentences leaving your lips in the familiar tones of your voice…

You are his friend first and foremost; someone he feels he can really talk to and trust.

And that’s why you turn out to be everything he didn’t know he’d ever hope for.

Narancia Ghirga

-> Will They, Won’t They?

Giorno is going to start making Narancia pay for his therapy appointments. Abbacchio once made a sarcastic remark about wanting to start drinking again because of this. Mista has given Narnacia approximately twenty three lectures over the subject. Fugo is pulling his hair out.

And really, who can blame any of them?

Having to watch you and Narancia interact on a regular basis is a frustrating experience- to put it lightly.

That feeling only heightened by the fact that it’s something no one feels as though they can even comment directly on whenever you and Narancia are both around. Simply swallowing any words bubbling to the surface.

All this to say, Narancia falls for you quickly and he falls hard.

At first, there wasn't a single complaint to be had from anyone on the team. On the contrary, the others took the time to hype him up with wide smiles and pats on his back.

Narancia himself is excited to be experiencing something as genuinely sweet and grounded as a crush, and that elation was contagious.

But then a couple weeks pass... then a month... then another month... then another....

If the others were a smidge more invasive, they would've just pushed you two in front of one another yelling 'to just get on with it already' months ago.

Specifically Fugo, who actively lets it get to him in a way that Narancia merely huffs at. Sometimes offering a noncommittal response if he feels it’s necessary.

It doesn't matter how much his former tutor gets on his case, Narancia’s not budging. A light blush present on his face when he insists for the hundredth time that there's no way you could possibly feel the same.

Your own friends go through a very similar situation on the other end of things.

Similarly with someone like Abbacchio, the two of you act like a couple far before anything is set in stone. Unlike him, it's less causal and downright mind-boggling to the people around you.

Your legs lazily draped over his lap, going on drives that last for hours at a time, one barely ever seen without the other, and talking about each other constantly.

The latter became so frequent that Giorno once had to pull Narancia aside and tell him to stop mentioning you at Passione meetings.

Narancia has to bit his lip just to stop himself, but he manages. Much to the Don’s relief- never wanting to have that kind of conversation with a friend again.

Giorno cannot and won't try to control him outside of work, though, so it was merely half the battle.

Not that Narancia particularly minds the others' reactions to it very much.

Months into his affections and he's gotten used to the constant stream of teasing. Besides, he lies to himself figures that maybe they're just jealous. He wouldn’t blame them if that’s the case, finding you as special as any person can be.

Regardless of what anyone says, the sweetness is there.

An amusement to be had over how truly clueless the both of you are, despite interacting with flushed faces and stuttering words. It’s sweet, then annoying to the point where it circles around to being funny.

But you and Narancia retreat into your own little world where all of that melts away. He’s loyal, and since you hold his heart, it would be an understatement to say you’re just important to him.

Who will give in and admit the crush first? It's up in the air.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

I WON'T TELL IF YOU WON'T

KINKTOBER DAY 6 - PROFESSOR AU WITH CILLIAN MURPHY

Pairing.| Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary.| You’re Professor Murphy’s star student and play on his obvious obsession with you. But when he eavesdrops on a secret of yours, he has to mark you as his.

Warnings.| Dubcon, noncon, head f!receiving, groping, manipulative, blackmail, Cillian a creep.

Word count.| 2.6k

You were a teacher’s pet. It was in your female nature to grovel to those men in power. Your future depends on it hence why you need to take every opportunity you could. Professor Murphy, your literature teacher had a spellbinding fixation on you. You were his unsaid favorite student. You knew Mr Murphy had the hots for you from day one. It was a different kind of confidence boost you craved everytime you walked into his class. 

It was a dirty pleasure of yours, being a tease. It’s common for you to act in such a way, many other women do. Women desire male attention to feel validated, to feel good about themselves. A lot of the time it’s based on their raising, a lack of parenthood as an example. 

Mr Murphy would bend at the knee for you. He always had your best interest in class. You’d receive extra help from him without asking. He’d reply to your emails in a snap. Your little mistakes on your assignments would also go unnoticed by him. In return, you dressed flatteringly for him. Short skirts and cleavage showing every lecture, just for his ogling eyes. 

Flirting with him was a piece of cake, and he licked his lips clean every single damn time. Sometimes you’d brush your fingers over his. Grab onto his shoulder as you leant over him to point something out. But who really gave a shit. He pretended to be too much of a gentleman to bring to light your subtle advances, but really he was too horny to brush away those opportunities. It made him miss his youth a bit too much.

But one day you made the dumb decision of being too open in front of your professor. An urge inside of you wanted him to hear - because you knew he was already listening - that you were still a virgin. Your tongue dript of so much dignity, pride and amour propre that it would be considered a slipping hazard. A rush of adrenaline clouded your logical judgment. It’s normal to act with emotions over maturity, even at your age.

Of course your eyes have seen a couple of cocks in your life. Your hands and mouth have touched them, but you refused to a man touch you, let alone fuck you. Truth was, you were iffy with having a man inside of you. Someone touching you in that manner made you feel dirty. The longer you waited from puberty, the less you desired to do it. Your self-esteem ended up relying on your state of virginity.

When his class was dismissed, Professor Murphy couldn’t pull out his aching dick quick enough as he fisted himself behind his desk. Quicker than anticipated, he spurted out his white seed against the draw as he panted heavily, his chest heaving. He grumbled your name over and over, craving you to be underneath him.  

His mind was a drawing board on how to devour you. There were so many possibilities, but all could have severe consequences if he acted through his primal needs. But now, Professor Murphy knew that he had to act quick. A fellow classmate has captured your attention. William was kind, funny, considerate, and promising. Not to mention, a great kisser. But you were still too subconscious to let him touch you that explicitly. You started sitting next to him in class, he was distracting you a lot. Your attention on Mr Murphy lowered. Do you wonder how Mr Murphy felt?

His blood boiled. He was ready to commit murder at that moment. But no, he just had to act quicker and sharper. He had to confess, you had to confess, your binding love for one another. It was understanding, why would you admit such a thing on your own? Professor Murphy understood how anxious and restricting you would be on your thoughts towards him, towards being together. 

Yet, he couldn’t help but to wonder if you were trying to move on or trying to make him jealous. Both seemed to be logical. Either you couldn’t deal with the pain of wanting a man you couldn’t have or you wanted to make him break his moral code, his legal obligation. You got a reaction out of him, that’s for sure. 

His emotions got the better of him however. He was a harsh critic of your recent assignment, clearly shown through his final mark. You’ve never failed at anything before. Not only was it a massive smack to your ego, your scholarship depended on it. It made you angry, frustrated and anxious. So you had to know how on earth you could have failed. 

As you stood before him, you went unnoticed. It was a first, him not noticing you. The insecurity weighed down on you. Like everyone sitting in the room was watching you. “Sir, I don’t understand my mark” you mumbled, fingers twirling with one another as you stood before him sitting at his desk. 

He took a moment to acknowledge you before he even spoke. “I suppose I could go over it in detail with you” he replied, his no eye contact and no emotional tone left you dumbfounded. “But I wouldn’t be available until after my meetings after school hours” he added, finally making eye contact with you.

No, you had to be in over your head right now. He was not making a sexual advance on you. That anxious mind of yours was thinking of the worst possible outcomes. But his dark expression told you otherwise. 

“I suppose I could give you a call when you’re free” you half offered, half begged since your dignity and desperation fought with each other. 

“It would be easier doing it in person” he counted, fuck. “Just drop by my office after seven” he said carelessly, not phased if any other student would hear. Your heart started pounding. He spoke as if you were already consenting to this. How were you meant to reply to that? “Is that all?” Mr Murphy asked, a small grin on his lips. You nodded your head and did the  walk of shame back to your seat. 

You couldn’t look at him for the rest of the class. It made you feel nauseous and your skin was crawling. But he had no shame in watching you. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his was picturing fucking you in every position possible. 

Later in the day, you walked the deserted halls. Your mary jane shoes clanked over the polished floors. No one was at school at this time since it was a Friday. You could hear your footsteps echo down the hallways. With a hesitant thought, you knocked on his office door. He called you in, the door creaked open. 

“Hi there” he smiled, sitting behind his desk, the only source of lighting was his desk lamp. All of the blinds were shut. As you began to walk to the desk, he stopped you, “shut the door behind you, love”. Obediently doing as you were told, you shut the door slowly, your hand placed firmly on the knob. “Now, lock it” he ordered. You don’t know why you did it. Maybe because you were intimidated, anxious of what he would have done if you didn’t. Or maybe because it made your core naturally clench. “Come here” he gestured, you did, there was usually a pair of chairs in front of his desk but they were out of sight. Walking up to him, your teacher turned his seat to face you, legs wide open, silence filled the room. 

“Come on” he grinned, his hand patting his slim thigh.

“Professor” you whimpered.  

“Do what your professor tells you” he sighed, a hint of frustration in his tone as he patted his thigh on a slow heavy beat. 

“I thought we were going to go over my mark” you responded through a clenched jaw, refusing to make eye contact with him. 

“We can do that later” he said blankly. 

“I want to do it now” you whimpered, finding it hard to keep your guard up, your posture curling forward. “This is what I came over for, remember?” You tried to show some sternness, remembering you still had to have some power over him. His expression was as cold as ice. 

“Fine, you were sloppy. Your piece lacked creativity. I’ve never read something more rushed, do you know how many grammar issues I found?” he spat. You felt yourself tear up, not sure if it’s because of his tone or the fact that you were always a high achiever. Out of the blue he added a ultimatum, “I haven’t entered it yet, if you submit to me, then I’ll give you a more generous mark”. His eyes were dark and tone was blank. 

You gasped out and took a large step back. Professor Murphy stood from his seat abruptly, making you flinch. 

“No- I, I can’t do that. That’s wrong” you shook your head, hiding your tempting body with your arms. 

Mr Murphy sighed, his eyes lingering up and down your perfect figure. His mouth always frothed over when he saw you wear that beige pleated tennis skirt with the white see through blouse. 

“I won’t tell… Will you?” He cocked an eyebrow, head tilted as he carefully stepped towards you, as if you were a timid animal. 

“No” you replied softly. 

“Then what’s wrong?” Mr Murphy pulled a face. 

“I’ve never had sex before” you whimpered. 

“I know baby, I know. You said that knowing I’d hear you. A cry out in hopes that I would claim you. The clouds have rained a blessing for us both. I can’t wait any longer, I can’t risk you acting foolishly with anyone” he mumbled slightly towards the end. “I know you have feelings towards me” he brought to light. “And I want you to know that I reciprocate those feelings” a gentle sigh escaped his lips. 

As the distance closed in, Mr Murphy grabbed onto your hands and placed them on his beating chest. His expression was hidden by the dark, your face scrunched as you tried to decipher anything. Your heavy breathing filled the room, your ears felt blocked as you blinked with teary eyes. Slowly, he placed his hand on your heartbeat, but gradually his hand began to roam across your breasts. His other hand snaked around the small of your back, his fingers cautiously tugging your shirt out of your skirt. 

“You can’t help but to feel subconscious over your attraction towards me. It’s taboo after all, you’re so young. You still have a life to live. I’d want to get over it as well, it must hold you back so much” another sigh, a gentle smile on his lips. “But I’m here, right now. I need you to know that. That it’s me here” he said unsmiling now, his grip on your back much tighter than before. 

“I don’t want to fuck you!” you shrieked, your lips trembling. It was all a joke, it was just fun to tease him, with all of them. After trying to rip yourself out of his firm hold, you lost balance and fell onto your backside. 

You never could have predicted him to be so obsessed, so insane even though it was as clear as daylight. It terrified that he felt this way about you. Mr Murphy acted swiftly and pounced at you before you could get up. He pinned you down, your head whacked against the floorboards. You cried and thrashed to break free but it was no use when his hand smacked over your open mouth. “Why are you fighting me? You wanted this didn’t you!” Mr Murphy hissed with frustration. Hushing you of your muffled cries, he held you still until you managed to calm down.

“Now, don’t be a fucking prickteaser” he spat by your ear. “Sick of your fucking vamping, when I was so good to you” he mumbled as he started kissing your neck. You whined underneath him, still squirming like crazy, but he held you down with ease. “Now, be a good girl and stay quiet otherwise I’m going to have to spank you” he warned, a cheeky grin on his lips. His clamped hand slipped down, his fingers brushed over your wobbly lips. 

“Please sir, I don’t like this” you cried, keeping your volume down low. Mr Murphy started cooing you and brushed your hair to the side. 

“Hey, you’re stressing over nothing. I’m going to take care of you, okay baby?” Mr Murphy assured. His expression was unhinged but tone was kind. 

The only way you could respond to that was by quietly crying more. There were so many things going unnoticed by you, like how badly your body was shaking or how your core was squeezing like crazy. Admiring your face, Mr Murphy slid his hand down to your breasts and began kneading them, you bit your lower lip. 

“Such a good girl” he praised. “Always dressing up for me, looking sexy, just to make me happy” he grinned. “So your cunt is untouched mhm?” He questioned with his hands unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your cream bra. 

“Y-yes” you whimpered. 

“Good girl, you were saving yourself for someone special, for me right?” Mr Murphy asked, a sinister look on him. 

“Yes” you unwillingly repeat yourself. A soft moan fell off your lips as he played with your tits roughly. 

Slapping both of them harshly, you shrieked as he rode up your skirt, revealing your matching panties. “You did this on purpose yeah?” He mumbled with a grin. To keep him happy, you nodded. 

Slowly, he slid down your panties, you whined, heart racing and throat tightening as he pulled your panties off complete. Mr Murphy hushed you and slid down to practically lay on his chest as he took your thighs to wrap around his head. His ass was poking up like a slut, legs planted widely apart as he admired your gorgeous cunt in the dim lighting. The first lick was slow, he grumbled as you yelped at the sensation that ran up your skin. The next lick was deeper but quicker, Mr Murphy’s eyes rolled back, his cock twitching in his pants. Fingernails digging into your bare skin, you tried to grip onto the floorboards but found your hands slipping too much for your liking, resulting in you gripping onto his luscious, dark hair. 

His tongue slipped along your slit, your core was gushing now. Whimpering against his tongue, you found your back arching and hips locking up onto his mouth. Circles around your clit, up, down and zig zagging along your slit, deep inside your canal, Mr Murphy’s tongue was attacking your cunt in every movement. Your sweet, soft moans were music to his ears. 

Your walls began pulsing around his tongue, your legs shaking like crazy and your words unable to form a sentence. Nose deep into your cunt, your teacher started moaning into you, the vibrations made you yelp. With a massive pop sound, he pulled his mouth away from your cunt. 

“Does my sweet girl want to finish?” He smugly asked, his fingers slipping over your folds. You nodded instantly, hips moving up higher to him. Mr Murphy chuckled, a finger slowly slipping inside of you. You mewled, his tongue warmed you up but it still hurt to have his finger inside of you. “You’re gonna have to get used to my fingers first if you want to come. God, how are you going to react when you feel my cock inside of you?” he pursed one’s lips.  

[rainchyna]

⌗ ˚ ͙◌˖ ࣪ . ִֶָ𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝐇𝐇𝐇 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟗𝟎𝘀˖ ࣪ .ִֶָ

(f!reader, fluff, language, mentions of drug and alcohol use, smuttish, i've lost my touch i fear)

⏾ you didn't really care for hunter when he first joined the wwf. you didn’t exactly know who he was, you just saw him around backstage. he wasn’t exactly memorable to you, he had the basic wrestler look. 6’3, blond, muscular. not much to think about.

⏾ hunter, on the other hand, had his eyes on the prize way before signing with wwf. you had been established in the company as women’s champion at the time, the company heavily relied on you as their top female draw. you were great, the fans loved you, and your merch sold.

⏾ after he was signed, he’d just admire you from afar, you were so effortlessly cool. you've always been his wrestling crush. you were beyond talented, bombshell of a beauty, so, so sweet, and well liked by everyone. of course everyone liked you, look at you. the things he would’ve done to even be near you.

⏾ hunter began hanging out with shawn (who had essentially recruited him for the kliq) almost immediately. you and shawn were really good friends at the time, as vince had put the tag team belts on you and shawn as a joke. shawn could immediately tell that hunter had a thing for you, the way he could barely pull a proper "hello" when you're around immediately gave it away. hunter's eyes would be glued to your face, and up and down your body, he'd immediately smile and look away, slightly blushing when you'd even glance at him.

"dude, what's all that about?"

"don't. don't even, I just-.. she's.. wow."

"do you want me to introduce you-"

"yes, please."

⏾ you were somehow, magically, (backstage politically, shawn michaels sends his regards) dragged into a romance angle with hunter. he was the new signing, and the company wanted to give him a little push. so, now you two were forced to be around each other a lot. you dropped the tag belts soon there after, but kept the women's championship.

⏾ he had kept his french aristocrat gimmick from wcw, but instead of Jean Paul Levesque, he was now Hunter Hearst Helmsley. you were his ‘wife’, y/n y/l/n-helmsley, you escorted him into the ring, interfered in his matches, and cut promos with him. you spent a lot of time on and off the road with him, it's not like either of you had a choice.

⏾ you two slowly became friends, though the dynamic was a bit weird at first since he seemed to be a big fan of you. he kept up some of his 'aristocratic' behaviours, he was trying so hard to win you over. he'd hold doors open for you, always keep as seat open for you, push chairs in and out for you, carry your stuff whether it's a bag or a championship belt.

⏾ and warm up to him, you did. you thought he was really sweet, even though he'd give you 'funny eyes' when you worked out together. hunter was always complimenting you, your matches, your gear, your looks, anything. if he could find a way into your heart, he sure was going to sweet-talk his way there.

"your match was so good earlier, I watched the whole thing."

"yeah, I know. I saw you at the commentary table, burning holes into my body."

"how could I not? you're so talented, and you looked so damn gorgeous."

⏾ a friendship was beginning to blossom between you two, he was actually genuinely so lovely. it was nice for once to not be the only one sober when the rest of the kliq were either drunk or stoned off their mind. you two became the friend groups 'parents', and were often left alone when shawn, kev, scott and sean were passed out.

⏾ you could talk to him for hours about the most random things ever, whether it was wrestling, music, life, ways to get the idiots on the floor to sober up, it was just so easy to talk to him. you two had a whole lotta chemistry in real life, and it translated into the ring.

⏾ having you almost as a 'mentor' to his french gentleman character was constantly messing with his brain. it was like the really hot, popular girl tutoring the new guy in class.

⏾ you were trying to hard to teach him how to cut a babyface promo, but he just couldn't do it the way you wanted him to. he was just a natural heel. you ended up convincing vince to turn you both heel, as it would've been better for him. but, as you turned heel, vince wanted you two to turn up the sexual element of your on screen relationship.

⏾ you were now all over each other at all times, you were wearing shorter dresses, unbuttoning his white shirt before matches for him, he was constantly groping you and kissing your neck, just touchy.

⏾ you two immediately became significantly closer. the tension from your fake relationship spilling into your friendship. it was obvious, something was happening here.

⏾ you two were now hanging out without shawn, or the chaos of the kliq, just one on one. you work out together in hotel gyms, go on coffee runs because the coffee in the arena sucks, eat together in catering way before or after lunch breaks so you can be with each other in peace. sometimes, you'd just sit together just to be in each other's presence.

⏾ you and hunter were entering the mutual crush phase, and it was so beyond obvious to everyone around you.

⏾ shawn was your biggest fan, no one wanted you two to get together more than he did. he was always teasing you two, making loud kissing noises when you and hunter were doing literally anything, 'your girlfriend' to hunter's face when you were right there. shawn would even purposefully create situations where you and hunter had to be basically breathing each other's air. whether it's him taking up more space in cars so you'd be forced to sit on hunter's lap, or talking one of the boys who didn’t need much convincing into locking you two in a a tiny closet.

⏾ then degeneration-x formed, you two couldn't escape each other now.

⏾ shawn lobbied hard for you and hunter to be in the faction, and it was immediate perfection. it became a public secret that you and hunter had something going on, everyone backstage was so aware of it, and the fans began seeing it during shows. it was obvious it wasn't just the 'y/n and hunter are married' thing, even commentary would make jokes about it.

⏾ it went from casual friends, to close friends, to no one really knows what's going in with you two. now became stolen glances, hidden touches, whispered words, longing looks, painful yearning. hunter was always hugging you, his arms were always around your shoulders or you waist, hand glued to your hip, heart eyes.

⏾ you two were almost always cuddled up, hunter didn't care if people talked, he was obsessed with you. he wanted to always be near you, to be the one who made you laugh, to be the one who made you feel safe and love. he would even kiss your head and cheeks, he didn't care who saw. the relentless teasing was worth it, all the jokes and the stares. it was all worth those couple minutes of intimacy.

⏾ but he wanted more, both of you did.

⏾ it all boiled up to a moment when are four of you were on the road. shawn had stopped the car, and him and chyna went into a convenient store to buy some snacks and drinks. you and hunter were sitting in the back seat when he turned to you, and asked;

"why aren't i your boyfriend?"

"you haven't asked me-"

"can you please be my girlfriend? like please?"

"yeah, i would love that."

⏾ by the time shawn and chyna came back, you two were busy making out, not paying attention to anything but each other. shawn loudly knocked on the window, "happy for you, idiots, but not in my car." he said, chyna laughing in the background.

⏾ hunter is so obsessed with you.

⏾ hunter is also such a jealous boyfriend. it took him so long to finally have you all to himself, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you get away from him. he fucking hated the way some wrestlers backstage looked at you, sometimes even the fans at ringside pissed him off. you were his, and his alone.

⏾ he would possessively show you off. if someone in particular was annoying him, he'd pull you as close as possible to him, sometimes on his lap if he could. he'd hold and kiss you while holding eye contact with that person. he didn't give a fuck, you were his.

⏾ he'd also refuse to let you out of his sight. if you had a match, or a promo, he's there watching, the furthest he could be was gorilla. if you had to change, he was in your locker room. he was always there, but he had limits, of course. if you wanted to be left alone, he respected your boundaries.

⏾ he was so protective of you, so, so protective. he hates seeing you upset, or bothered. he would do anything to make his girl happy. he didn't care if he had to spend his entire cheque spoiling you, hunter would go to hell back to see you smile.

"is that a diamond fucking ring?"

"anything for my baby."

⏾ loves, loves, loves when you ask him to give you head. that man is a munch, i don't care what anyone thinks. especially as he gets older, baby, that alone gets him off.

⏾ absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes, specifically in his leather jackets.

⏾ super touchy. whether it's a hand around your waist, around your shoulders, finger hooked on a belt loop on your pants. hunter always needs contact, especially when emotions are high. you're the only person who he could feel genuinely and wholly vulnerable with.

⏾ huge on cheek and forehead kisses

⏾ genuinely, has a sexual thing for you sitting his lap. has something to do with him being so much bigger than you.

⏾ massive daddy kink, even worse sir kink.

⏾ also has thing for seeing you in his merch, or anything with his name on it.

⏾ literally gets so annoyed and straight up upset when you have to do anything. he wants you to just sit back and relax, he wants to take care of you all the time. hates seeing you up on your feet doing something he could do for you. he gets borderline embarrassed.

“where are you going?”

“to get.. water..?”

“water? mhm, what else do you want?”

“uhm.. a sandwich…?”

“seat your ass the fuck down, then.”

⏾ you’re so beyond spoiled in this relationship. want a sandwich? he’ll start with making his own bread from scratch. need a change of clothes? here’s his comfiest hoodie, while he does your laundry. want to paint your nails? gel, or regular polish? you want a diamond ring? do you want that lab grown or naturally mined?

⏾ when he began growing his beard, he became absolutely in love with you trimming and cleaning it up for him. he closeness, having you on his lap, the bathroom smells like aftershave and your perfume, your clothes are slightly damp and he can’t get that silly smile of his face for you to actually work.

⏾ you’re his bestest friend :(

⏾ constantly reminds you that he loves you, mostly because he’s loves hearing you telling him you love him back.

⏾ gets the most raging boners when you tug on his hair. like, this man is borderline whimpering when your fingers barely graze his scalp.

⏾ the second you’re on your knees for him, he loses his mind. it’s like he can’t breathe anymore.

⏾ LIVES between your thighs. his eyes barely open, licking and sucking, he’s humping the bed beneath him. it’s gets him off so much. (i’m obsessed w this can u tell)

⏾ sit on his face, smother him. his nose takes care of your clit. (iykyk)

⏾ “angel” and “baby” are his favourite nicknames for you.

⏾ one of his favourite things to do was to rub the fact that you’re his in the faces of your fanboys. he lived for it, it gave him an excuse to be all over you on national television. the explicitness of dx also added to him being just inappropriate on live television.

“see this? see all of this? *actively groping you*, i get to have this gorgeous, sexy woman all to myself *more groping ofc*. and you pathetic scums can’t have her, you can just watch. *groping intensifies*”

“suck it? i mean, as long as it’s this pretty little thing”

⏾ (stupidly) flirts with you like his life depends on it

“ya come here often?”

“??? we both work here.”

⏾ 5939/10, need him. need him bad

[dovesdreaming]

౨ৎI want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck౨ৎ

Hi I hope this is good! I found getting jacks character hard and when I first imagined this it was a lot fluffier than what it turned into! But I would be happy to right a fluffier version of anyone would like that!! 1.3k words

Needs editing!!

Warnings: suggestive

Requested:@fuck-i-burnt-the-tea

Jack had never been a sentimental person. He was a pirate, they couldn’t care for anyone but themselves. Jack was widely known for that, not even having loyalties to his crew. There were very few things Jack cared about in this world. The first being his compass he kept it by his side at all times and never let it out of his sight and the second was a recent development. He had developed feelings for you. He didn’t know how it happened it went from you joking around with each other to him actually confiding in you, what was happening to him. Jack thought he could get rid of these feelings by pushing you away but the distance only made his heart want to be in your presence more. Jack didn’t understand feelings and he’d be damned if he let them get in the way of finding his recent treasure interest. There was a slight issue with this though as his compass would point in the direction of the treasure but then make a ticking motion towards wherever you were. He debated throwing you overboard or getting rid of you somehow so that he could finally get back to his pirate life yet he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

His crew had also become attached to you, it was impossible not to. You had a way of drawing everyone and making them feel comfortable. The men aboard also didn’t mind a woman on ship but they all respected you and would protect you if needed but after they had seen you fight a rival pirate ship they decided they more than likely would never be needed.

Gibbs had noticed a change in jacks behaviour, how could he not he was the only other person than you that was close to him.

He had suspicions but never brought it up because he knew that the Jack sparrow would never admit to having feelings for someone.

Jack was always a flirtatious person and when he noticed his feelings for you develop he cranked his flirting up to the point he would flirt with a mop if it looked like a woman to rid himself of thoughts about you. He needed you out of his head and this lead him to have multiple one night stands every time the ship docked somewhere, sometimes even several a night. He thought it was working but in reality it only made him crave you more.

You had feelings for Jack sparrow before you even joined his crew. His name was whispered throughout the pirate community with many mixed comments about him. From some of the stories you had heard he sounded like just your type of man. You however ended up on his ship by accident you had been looking for a permanent crew to join and this had been the only ship accepting new crew mates. You and Jack found common ground straight away and from there you only grew closer. You never thought much of your relationship until you felt you stomach bubble with a mix of anger and sadness every night when you saw Jack take another woman to bed. Inside you knew you were jealous but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet, especially when he takes a new woman every night.

One night when you and Jack were hanging out at the bar you both had a few two many drinks. Most of the words coming out of your mouths now didn’t make sense to anyone, it was just drunk babbling. Jack had been eyeing up a few women that were across the bar all night and this had deepened the feeling in your gut. You were nearly blind drunk and jealous which were not good combinations. You became touchy with Jack, reaching your hands out to touch his hair and rub his shoulders. You also stared directly into his eyes making Jack question what had gotten into you. You launched yourself at him, grabbing his face in your hands and smashing you lips into his. He hesitated before his drunk haze of want took over and he kissed you back. The kiss got deeper and deeper before he lead you away and you became another woman he took into the night with him.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed and you looked around to see clothes strewn across the room. The vague memory of last night was at the forefront of your mind yet the face of who you left with was a blur until you turned your head to find no other than your captain. Realisation hit you like a wave and you were frozen in panic. Your mind raced with thoughts and as you saw Jack stir from his sleep all your mind could come up with was to pretend you were asleep til he left, leaving all decisions to him.

Jack awoke and collected his clothes like he did every morning after his nightly activities. It was routine at this point and he usually didn’t bother to even spare a glance to the person in bed with him. He couldn’t remember any of their faces if he tried. Yet as he was walking toward the door he stopped dead in his tracks as he recognised the article of clothing on the floor. It was your average dress yet it sparked an image in his mind and that’s when his memory flooded back. He saw images of the night before with a woman under him. The face of the woman slowly came into focus and it was you. His head snapped to the figure in bed still and sure enough he saw your face just peeking from the covers still asleep.

He panicked and ran out the door slightly slamming it in his hastily exit.

Your relationship was slightly strained from this point on both wanting the other yet feeling as though the other didn’t feel the same. Jack was also still struggling to allow himself to have feelings like this. He wanted to make a gesture to show he cared for you. He was just waiting the perfect thing to present itself to him.

He had found what he thought might do the trick. He found a necklace within the chest that the crew had been looking for the past couple of weeks. It was a chain necklace embroidered with jewels and conveniently a j engraved into it. It was like his compass had led him here all along, knowing his heart wanted to give you himself. He snatched it from the chest before anyone else saw and stuffed it into his pocket for safekeeping.

Jack had been going back and forth about giving you the necklace. He couldn’t decide whether it was too big of a gesture or too small of one. He just wanted to show you that he cared about you.

He had called you into his quarters and sat down on his desk. You were left standing in front of him, questioning why he had brought you in here. He stared at the ground before reaching into his pocket. You saw the necklace shimmer in the sunlight from the window behind, it casted spots of sunlight across the room. This made you even more confused. He twirled the necklace in his hands before speaking “this is for you”. He leant his arm out with the necklace in. You took the necklace carefully into your hands, taking every detail of it in. You heart jumped when you saw the j engraved and ran you thumb over it. You looked up to him questioningly, what did this mean? He looked away and said he wanted to show his fondness for you (jacks code word for something along the lines of love you guessed). You walked over to him and asked him to put it on for you. As he clasped his initial round your neck you didn’t feel owned by Jack, you felt he knew you. This necklace was the silent acknowledgement that you both liked one another and wanted more. It was a silent agreement that you were each others and no one else’s.

Thank you for reading! And again if anyone wants a fluffier version I have a good idea for it!!

[enviedear]

omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die

protective!billy bonney...

babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.

tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)

request

it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.

it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.

it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.

you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.

"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.

you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.

the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"

his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.

the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.

the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."

your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.

"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.

the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.

"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"

you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.

"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.

the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."

you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."

the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."

but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.

the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.

you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.

"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."

the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.

you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.

you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.

together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[katakaluptastrophy]

Let's be very clear about what the Houses do.

When Gideon fantasises about leaving the Ninth, this is what she imagines:

Not for Gideon a security detail on one of the holding planets, either on a lonely outpost on an empty world or in some foreign city babysitting some Third governor. Gideon wanted a drop ship—first on the ground—a fat shiny medal saying INVASION FORCE ON WHATEVER, securing the initial bloom of thanergy without which the finest necromancer of the Nine Houses could not fight worth a damn. The front line of the Cohort facilitated glory. In her comic books, necromancers kissed the gloved palms of their front-liner comrades in blessed thanks for all that they did. In the comic books none of these adepts had heart disease, and a lot of them had necromantically uncharacteristic cleavage.

A drop ship of infantry. Armed with those infantry standard two-hander swords. Their job is to secure the initial bloom of thanergy. Which sounds like a very antiseptic way of saying that a House invasion starts with a suicide squad of teenagers whose job it is to cause as many casualties as possible, so that the necromancers have something to work with. Teenagers like Gideon, desperate serfs or just wanting to make something of themselves, sold a promise of sex and glory, economic assets of their far-flung Houses until their untimely deaths.

But how useful their deaths, and those they take with them are! To the necromanvers of the Second, who can drain your thalergy as you die screaming. The Third, who can draw energy from the corpses littering the battlefield. The Fourth, who can turn them into bombs...

Until the subdued planet can be flipped, a contract put in place, a profit exacted. That Third governor installed.

Later, John explains to Harrow how planets are flipped:

So back at the start we’d drop in a single Lyctor, unnoticed, to start the thanergy reaction. Not to flip the whole planet, you understand, just to get the juice flowing.” He made a hand gesture for get the juice flowing, which made your head hurt. “Then within an hour or two you could send down a team of adepts and be confident they’d have all the reserves they needed. Nowadays we can’t afford to use Lyctors, so the first strike falls to the men and women of the Cohort, and they do a magnificent job…but the old way was neater, and kinder too, I think.

And in NTN, Aim describes her own harrowing experience as a displaced victim of what happens after that invasion, after the long and exploitative economic contract, and after the planet finally succumbs to its flipping:

The usual. It had been under contract for a long time. I mean, we were the third settlement wave, they built the Crescent in the bones of two other cities, you couldn’t dig up anything without finding remnants of a people we’d never known. The microbial population didn’t show signs of serious decay until the moment before the sea went anaerobic. The things crawling out of there … they seemed to mutate all at once … The Houses pulled support, said they’d prep us for an early move, but they left minimal forces in the barracks. We dug up old caches of materiel and used them. On the mutants from the sea, on the animals as they changed, on one another, on the Houses when they saw what we’d got our hands on and came back to take control. Blood of Eden was there too, you know. And in the end the Houses won and most of us surrendered and we were moved. Two moves later, and I’m here. There’s still a facility on Lemuria, of course. A decade later the Houses made it safe for geopolymer refining. It must be desolate.

And so you get the "lonely outpost on an empty world", the assignment Gideon saw as so unglamorous.