#e-bike security

[electricbikeshopsnearyou]

Gear Up for Adventure: Essential E-Bike Accessories Every Rider Needs

Importance of E-Bike Accessories for a Safe and Enjoyable Ride E-bikes are quickly becoming a popular mode of transportation across urban landscapes, primarily due to their efficiency and eco-friendliness. With e-bike sales skyrocketing in recent years—reportedly increasing by over 145% from 2019 to 2021—more riders are embracing this innovative way to commute. However, owning an e-bike is not just about the bike itself; it's equally about the essential accessories that enhance safety, comfort, and overall riding experience. The right gear can significantly improve your journey while encouraging more individuals to consider e-biking as a viable alternative to traditional vehicles. Accessories play a crucial role in rider comfort and safety, making it easier for people to enjoy their rides without worrying about potential hazards. This is especially important as e-bikes can reach higher speeds compared to regular bicycles. For instance, investing in quality lights and visibility gear can make night riding not just safer but also more enjoyable, allowing riders to confidently navigate through urban environments. Essential Safety Accessories When it comes to safety, a good helmet is the cornerstone of e-bike accessories. Helmets significantly reduce the risk of head injuries during accidents, and many modern helmets come equipped with integrated lights to boost visibility. Additionally, front and rear lights are essential for any e-bike rider, particularly in low-light conditions. Bright LED lights can be lifesavers, illuminating the path ahead and ensuring that the rider is seen by motorists. Mirrors are another vital accessory that enhances safety by improving awareness of surrounding traffic. They allow riders to monitor the road behind them without turning their heads, which is crucial for maintaining focus on the path ahead. Moreover, high-visibility clothing, such as reflective vests, can further increase safety by making riders more conspicuous to other road users, especially at night. Comfort Enhancing Accessories Comfort is key for enjoyable e-biking experiences, especially during long rides. Padded seat covers are a fantastic addition, as they provide extra cushioning and help to reduce fatigue over time. Ergonomic handlebar grips can also make a significant difference; they help prevent hand fatigue and improve control for a smoother ride. Another excellent comfort accessory is a suspension seat post, which absorbs shocks when navigating bumpy terrains. This means that riders can enjoy their journeys without being jolted around, making longer rides much more enjoyable. Additionally, fenders are highly practical; they protect riders from mud and water splashes, ensuring that they stay clean and dry, regardless of the weather conditions. Technology Gadgets for E-Bikes In an age dominated by technology, e-bike riders can benefit immensely from various gadgets that enhance their riding experience. For instance, GPS devices are invaluable for providing real-time navigation and tracking, helping riders explore new routes with confidence. Coupled with smartphone mounts, riders can easily access navigation apps, listen to music, or even take calls while on the go. Bluetooth speakers can bring a new level of enjoyment to rides, providing entertainment and motivation during longer journeys. Moreover, smart bike locks equipped with GPS tracking add an extra layer of security, ensuring that your e-bike remains safe when parked. Cycle computers are also beneficial, offering data on speed, distance, and battery life, allowing riders to monitor their performance and plan their rides effectively. Essential Maintenance Tools To keep an e-bike in top shape, having the right maintenance tools is essential. A portable bike pump is a must-have for on-the-go tire inflation. Opt for models that are compact and easy to carry, ensuring that you can address flat tires quickly and efficiently. Tire repair kits should also be part of

your toolkit, complete with patches, levers, and a multitool, so you're prepared for any emergency repairs. Additionally, a basic maintenance toolkit containing wrenches, screwdrivers, and chain cleaners is crucial for regular upkeep. Spare tubes are indispensable for quick fixes, allowing riders to avoid being stranded due to a flat. Chain lubricant is vital for maintaining smooth operation and prolonging the life of the chain, while brake adjustment tools ensure that brakes function effectively, further enhancing rider safety. Practical Carrying Solutions For those who want to transport items while riding, practical carrying solutions are invaluable. Rear racks increase the cargo capacity of e-bikes, allowing riders to carry bags, groceries, or other items securely. Panniers and handlebar bags are great for storing personal items or essential goods, keeping them easily accessible during rides. Bike covers are another practical accessory that protects e-bikes from the elements when parked outdoors, preserving the bike's condition for longer. Water bottle cages are essential for hydration, especially during long-distance rides, while child seats can be added for safely transporting young children. Lightweight backpacks designed specifically for cyclists can also help carry important items without hindering performance. Enhancing the E-Biking Experience with Accessories Equipping e-bikes with the right accessories is paramount for enhancing safety, comfort, and convenience during rides. By investing in quality gear, riders can significantly improve their e-biking experience and enjoy more fulfilling journeys. The right accessories not only lead to safer rides but also promote a healthier lifestyle through increased physical activity. As e-bikes continue to grow in popularity, the array of available accessories will only expand, making it easier for everyone to customize their riding experience.

[loislane-ana]

NEWS! ~~~ doge, leavitt, tariffs, social security corruption, associated press, blue origin, taxes, atlanta e-bikes, close plane call in chicago, refugees, budget, ice, crime fighting drones, gas prices, fdr flood gates, hoboken path, nyc, snl

[paulcoleman4754]

Are you looking for the best ways to carry your folding bike, especially if you own a folding e-bike? Here are some positive tips to enhance your experience!

Choose the Right Bag: Invest in a high-quality bike bag designed for folding bikes. This will not only protect your bike but also make it easy to carry.

Use the Carry Handle: Most folding bikes come with a convenient carry handle. Use it to easily lift and carry your bike, whether you are heading up stairs or loading it into your car.

Folding Technique: Ensure that you are familiar with the folding mechanism of your bike. A smooth and quick fold will make it easier to carry and transport.

Secure Your Belongings: When carrying your bike, make sure to secure any loose items. This will prevent any accidents and ensure a hassle-free experience.

Plan Your Route: If you know you’ll need to carry your bike for a while, plan your route to minimize the distance you will have to carry it. Look for elevators or ramps instead of stairs when possible.

By following these tips, you can easily carry your folding bike wherever you go, making your riding experience more enjoyable and convenient!

[laurfilijames]

Pick Me Up

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse. Hair pulling.

Summary: After being apart for over a week due to his obligations to the club, Jax surprises you by picking you up from work and taking you for a ride.

A/N: I wanna ride with Jax on his bike and then get absolutely destroyed by him, okay?

(Reader is not described other than having hair long enough to blow in the wind and be pulled)

---

The word terrible didn’t touch how your week had been so far.

You said goodnight to your coworker who lingered behind, your exhaustion and irritation unable to be hidden from your voice even though it was only a few words, and you slung your bag over your shoulder as your heavy feet carried you down the hallway and out the back door.

The sun was still hot, and you paused and closed your eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath as you let its warmth shine on you, having arrived at work before it had even risen and not stepped foot outside the building all day.

It felt rejuvenating, and you felt the tension in your neck and shoulders fall away as you reopened your eyes and took a step forward again, walking around the corner to where your car was parked while wondering if you should treat yourself to some take out for dinner tonight. Then you remembered the chicken and salad you had in the fridge, feeling guilty if you let it go to waste, and sighed, thinking how you just wanted this week to be over, having not gotten any of the things you wanted anyway.

You flipped your keys around the ring that you held in your hand, the one for your car now secured between your thumb and index finger, ready to unlock it and start your drive home.

That’s when you noticed him.

Part of the contributing factor to your sour mood was leaning against his Harley, smoking the last of his cigarette while his blond hair glowed like a halo on his head, his crooked smile greeting you as he squinted in the sunlight and stood.

It had been nine days since you last laid eyes on Jax.

Nine agonizing days that had you questioning everything you had with the gorgeous outlaw, and despite how much you wanted to give him hell, everything in you felt relieved to see him.

He strutted over to you, flicking the butt of his cigarette on the pavement as he made his approach, his cocky swagger never ceasing to make heat rise up through your body.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Well, this is a surprise,” you quipped, tilting your head as you watched him deflate slightly and look down at his pristine white sneakers, kicking a pebble before looking back at you with a shrug.

“I’m sorry.”

You nodded, not trusting your words to come out like ice.

“I miss you,” he added softly, closing the space between you where he gently grabbed your elbow and rested his forehead against yours, the contact making your stomach burst with butterflies while your heart ached in your chest.

“I miss you too,” you admitted, unable to deny it or keep it in despite telling yourself countless times that you wouldn’t give in so easily this time.

He smiled again, the rise of the corner of his mouth pulling out the crease on his cheek you missed so much, bringing your finger up to trace it before he pulled you into a hug and swayed on the spot with you.

You found yourself relaxing in his embrace, essentially melting into him as you always did, letting your cheek rest against the soft flannel shirt that he wore under his kutte, and you nuzzled yourself further into him, inhaling his scent of smoke, fresh laundry and cologne, your hands slipping beneath his shirt to card up his back.

“So, what are you doing here, Jax?” you asked, parting from him enough to see his face.

“I wanted to pick my girl up from work…make up for lost time…”

You smiled, watching his cheeks blush as his blue eyes moved down to look at your lips.

“Don’t think I was happy being away from you for that long either,” he explained, moving in close to you again while grabbing your ass at the same time.

“Jax!” You squirmed, checking behind you to make sure there was no one around who could be looking.

His chuckle sang to you, and when he angled his face down to capture your lips, you forgot about caring if anyone saw.

He pressed his hips into you as he deepened your kiss, claiming your mouth in a way that made you dizzy, his hands moving to hold either side of your face as he indulged in what he was clearly genuine in having missed.

“Come on,” he spoke in a lazy drawl, pulling away ever so slightly so that his lips still hovered on yours. “I’m taking you for a ride.”

You bit your lower lip, excited for your adventure while hoping he meant that in more ways than one, following him over to his bike with your hand secured in his.

Jax unclipped the spare helmet you always wore from the back and placed it on your head, gently feeding the strap through the loops to fasten it, the simple touch of his fingers on your chin making you yearn for him even though he was so close.

“There,” he said, smiling at you again when he had finished securing your helmet with the snap at the end of the strap, leaning in to kiss you softly. “You ready?”

You hummed and nodded, returning his smile as he winked at you and reached for his own helmet.

He sat on his bike, adjusting himself on the seat while he turned the key in the ignition and flicked the switch to the fuel pump, the loud, powerful rumble of the engine vibrating through you when it started up.

Jax looked over his shoulder at you and titled his head for you to hop on, gripping the handlebars with both hands as you positioned yourself behind him and he lifted the kickstand with his foot. You scooched forward until you were flush with his body, the sensation of your core pressing against him something you had been missing desperately, and you had no shame in tucking your hands up under his layers of shirts so they splayed out on his bare skin, feeling the trail of coarse hairs that disappeared in his jeans with your fingertips.

Riding with Jax was equally calming and exhilarating, feeling safe as you rested your cheek on his shoulder, but also free with how the wind made your hair fly, the gusts pressing against your body with powerful force as you traveled against it. He was no different; a risk, dangerous, but providing all you needed to feel like you were actually living, each moment spent with him making you come alive while simultaneously enveloping you in the safety of his arms, the proximity to his circumstance another thing that had your life walking the line between threatened and protected.

Despite it all, you would always choose him, knowing he would, and always had, chosen you over everything else, nothing able to stand in your way.

His hand dropped to rest on your thigh as he cruised, and you held him closer to you even though you had the freedom to ease up on your grip around his waist at this speed, feeling his stomach move as he chuckled.

Pulling up to a stop sign, Jax placed his foot down on the road, pausing even though no other vehicles were around to wait for. He twisted as much as he could, his head turning to look over his shoulder at you, his smile warming your soul as it always did.

“You okay back there?”

“Perfect,” you replied, seeing his grin grow wider, his eyes scrunching up at the sides.

“Hey,” he said, tapping his cheek with his finger and puckering his lips, requesting a kiss from you.

You happily did, pressing your lips into the blond scruff on his rosy cheek, feeling him hum against you.

It obviously wasn’t enough to satisfy him though, angling his face even more so he could reach your lips with his, his tongue dancing briefly in your mouth that sparked even more want and longing in you.

A car honked, annoyed and impatient with your obliviousness to the rules of the road, making you break your kiss earlier than you both wanted.

Jax scoffed and gave the driver the finger, earning another blare of the horn that made you laugh and bury your face in the crook of his neck, your lips gently pressing against his heated skin.

“Just fucking go then!” he yelled at the driver. “Jesus Christ…” he chuckled, shaking his head as he patted your thigh. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Where are we going?”

He smirked, a bit of mischief sparkling in his blue eyes, “I’m taking you home, baby.”

You bit your lip in anticipation of the promises held in his voice and his eyes, readjusting your hold around his torso as he pushed off the pavement and rolled through the intersection, turning left to head back into town and in the direction of home.

Golden rays still cast down on you as you rumbled along, the glow of the setting sun even more of a glorious view from the open air of his motorcycle, but nothing ever compared to him.

You squealed when Jax opened it up, twisting the throttle to add more speed, the bike easing forward smoothly but still a noticeable enough change to make your stomach jump. His laugh sounded out over the noise of the bike and the roar of the wind in your ears, making you giggle in response and smile harder, your hair catching on your parted lips as it blew around your face when he pushed his bike to go even faster.

“Hold on, darlin’!”

Those exact words were said again now, only his tone was completely different.

He was out of breath and panting, each word slow to come out and decorated by his efforts, his low grunts of pleasure a contrast to how bright and playful his warning had been earlier.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised from behind you, watching as you took hold of the headboard in front of you for support.

Jax gripped your hips and pulled you back, forcing your bum up and against his groin while your back sank into an exaggerated dip, seating himself even deeper inside your cunt that he had already been buried in for the better part of an hour now.

Resuming his pace, he thrusted in and out of you, dragging his thick cock slowly out before slamming it back in again, each blow making you whine and moan louder than before.

Having edged you the entire time, you were close, each movement a threat to unravel you completely, the longer he fucked you the further you came from being able to hold back your imminent orgasm.

Your bodies were wet, sweat and sex covering every inch of skin, your hair a mess and hanging in your face, sticking to your swollen, moist lips just as it had when you were on the back of his bike.

Long fingers raked through your tangled tresses, collecting it all into one of his hands with a twist and tugging on it enough it pulled at your scalp and made you shiver, angling your head back toward him where he leaned forward and kissed your neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good, darlin’,” he murmured, still thrusting into you at a forceful, precise pace. “You stay right here for me.”

He kept a tight grip on your hair, knowing it was wrapped around his fingers just like his rings were, keeping yourself where he’d positioned you out of fear that if you faltered and fell forward it would sting more than it already did.

Your hands secured their hold on the headboard, bracing yourself for what you hoped would be your demise, a lazy smile creeping on your parted lips when he continued to kiss and nip at your neck, his tongue swiping long strokes up to your ear where his breath followed to dance on the patch of wet skin he created.

“I love you,” he breathed, his voice soft as his mouth lingered on the shell of your ear, making your smile grow larger and tears spring out the corners of your eyes right before he upped his tempo and started fucking you with all he had, a gasp blowing out of your lungs that changed into wimpers and cries that filled the room.

“Jax - fuck! - I love you too,” you moaned, your head tipping to the side slightly only to be righted by him repositioning you by your hair.

“I know you do, darlin’,” he said through a smile you could hear playing on his voice, another unhinged sound spilling off your lips when he reached his other hand around your body to land on your cunt, two of his fingers roughly massaging your clit. “Now you be a good girl and cum for me,” he added, his words making you crumble and obey as soon as they were spoken.

The headboard shook and slapped against the wall as he pounded you harder, the secure clasp you still managed to have on it making it move violently to the sway of your body, and you wailed as you felt yourself gush around his cock that slammed in and out of you mercilessly.

The tension that ripped through your limbs eventually subsided into a relaxed, almost numb feeling, every part of you tingling and awoken, allowing you to focus on him, hearing his feral grunts as he finally unloaded himself inside you with a stuttering push of his hips.

As his cock pulsed and twitched inside your walls, he pulled on your hair more, bringing you closer to him as he met you halfway, his body collapsing over yours heavily, his mouth sucking and marking your neck with sloppy kisses.

A blissed-out chuckle came out of him as he fell onto the bed on his side, taking you with him while remaining buried in you, his arms enveloping you in a warm, lazy embrace that displayed all the addicting feelings that followed sex. Your legs tangled together, a soft hum passing your lips as you felt his stomach rise and fall against your back as he worked to catch his breath, his hand languidly running up and down your arm appreciatively.

Jax nuzzled his face in your hair, inhaling deeply like he was trying to consume every bit of you, his warm exhale ghosting over the sensitive skin that he had made raw with his scruff.

“I really did miss you,” he admitted, and the tone of his voice solidified that you couldn’t doubt that it was true for a second.

You smiled, reaching for his hand and bringing it up to your lips, pressing a kiss on each bruised knuckle and then over the rings that adorned them.

When he eventually slipped out of you, he rolled you over to face him, pulling you onto his body so you half-covered his, your leg hooking to rest high on his waist.

His hand ran over your hair, smoothing it down as he stared at you lovingly, the light in his eyes matching his smile.

He was the sun itself in your world, and like the moon, you'd chase him into each day to rid yourself of the shadows, unashamed to love him for everything he was.

Your heart swelled as he smiled bigger at you, the creases beside his mouth coming out, and you traced along the one with your finger, looking at him beam as if he hadn't committed heinous crimes in the name of the patch worn so proudly on his back and inked into the skin you so fiercely loved.

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your face closer to his so you were able to rub your nose back and forth on his.

A small laugh that turned into a hum blew out of him, his arms pulling you closer to his warmth.

“Anything for you, darlin',” he drawled, his exhaustion showing in his words.

He met your lips with his, softly brushing a kiss on them before capturing them fully, moving so you were guided onto your back and he laid his body over yours, proving that no matter how much energy he'd already expended in loving you, he wasn't nearly done yet.

---

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Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

[whenikissedthegiyuu]

Kinktober 2024

Choking w/ Sano Manjirou/Mikey

word count 1.3k

18+ mdni. fem!reader, smut, choking, jealous mikey, kinda mean mikey, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, begging, mentions of fingering, set in the final timeline (we deserved more motorcycle racer mikey), pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), written in 2nd pov

kinktober 2024 mlist can also read on ao3

You were mad. Mikey was not a jealous or possessive man, on the contrary, he was so secure when it came to your relationship, whenever someone flirted with you he would laugh as he watched you reject them.

You were soulmates, he said once, his face and tone serious as if he truly believed it he was meant to be yours in this and every lifetime.

Yet here he was, at Takemitchi and Hinata’s wedding, making a scene because after his last race, Hanma had hugged you for a moment too long. He had been hired to take a few pictures of Mikey before and after the race, and since you became good friends in his time in Toman, you hung out with him during the race.

It had been a week. You hadn’t realized it at the time, hoping Mikey didn’t see it to avoid an unnecessary fight, but you realized throughout the week that something was bothering your boyfriend.

He had acted like he didn’t notice Hanma’s fingers lingering on your waist before completing pulling away from you. He acted like he didn’t remember the complete asshole Hanma was in all the previous timelines. He acted like he didn’t nearly bend you over his bike just so he made it clear to the taller man that you were his.

Until the wedding came. Hanma found you in the crowd when he was about to leave the party, saying goodbye to Mikey with a handshake before turning to you and engulfing you in a hug. He pulled away quicker than last weekend, however his hands still lingered on your waist as he told you how beautiful you looked.

What made him snap was the way your cheeks flushed at the compliment, as if you liked it. By some miracle Takemichi had been passing by, he grabbed Mikey just in time to prevent a scene. He managed to drag your boyfriend away before anyone noticed Hanma nearly was hauled away in an ambulance.

You caught up with them just outside the door. Watching Takemichi whispering furiously at him, Mikey glaring at him until he turned away. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. Takemichi turned around to rejoin the party. You gently squeezed his arm as he walked by and congratulated him again on his wedding,

Mikey didn’t acknowledge that he heard you come outside. He simply paused for a moment before stomping toward his car.

The silence had you on edge. You were furious that he nearly ruined his best friend’s wedding, but at the same time you were upset that he thought you would betray him like that. He was proud, you knew he wouldn’t say anything, so you decided to speak up once you were inside the apartment and he was behind you locking the door.

“Hanma is just a friend, Mikey.” You dropped your purse on the couch, then bent down to slip your heels off. You held the straps in your hand and faced the raven haired man. “I can’t believe you were about to punch him because he said I looked pretty today. Mitsuya and Sanzu complimented me too. Were you about to punch them too?”

“It’s not the same and you damn well know it.” He snapped.

Your head spun when Mikey’s fingers curled around your throat, pushing you until your back hit the wall. You gasped as the dull pain spread on your back. You were surprised that you had to use all your strength to keep your eyes from rolling back into your skull. The grip on your shoes loosened and they fell to the floor with a thud.

“I love you, Manjirou. Not him.”

His gaze darkened. Arousal pooled between your legs as his voice deepened. “You just had to see how gorgeous you looked when you blushed, princess. You could practically see the lewd thoughts he had in that moment, how many positions he imagined you in. He didn’t even try to hide it, not even because I was standing right fucking there.”

His fingers slightly tightened and your hand darted up to wrap your fingers around his wrist. He blinked once, then looked down at your hand. His lips parted, letting out a soft breath before he let go of your neck and taking a step back. He met your gaze again, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Oh. He thought you didn’t like it, that you were pushing him off.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so–“

You pulled him forward by his tie, reaching for his hand and pushing it beneath the slit in your dress, pressing his fingertips to the front of your panties. “Don’t be.”

His eyes darkened, his eyebrow raising in surprise. “Did you like his attention that much?”

He was taunting you. You almost got whiplash from how suddenly his demeanor changed.

You shook your head. You let go of his tie, reaching for his other hand to bring it up to your neck. “I liked this.” His fingers twitched, then he pressed down firmer.

“You like that?” His grip tightened, your eyes fluttering shut at the limited supply of oxygen. His fingers pushed your panties to the side and collected the wetness in your folds before teasing your entrance, barely dipping his fingers in. “Don’t tell me you’re this wet just from being choked?”

Your thighs pressed together and trapped his hand between them. He pulled you forward, his thumb moving to tilt your chin upwards. His lips curled into a smirk.

He bent down to throw you over his shoulder, slapping your ass before holding onto your legs as he carried you to your room. He threw you down onto the bed, watching as you bounced on the mattress before climbing beside you. He easily discarded your dress and slid down between your legs.

A choked moan escaped you when his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking the hardened nub before flicking it with his tongue. He held your thigh up, resting his head on the other. He looked up to see your head thrown back and your hands searching blindly for the back of his head. Your fingers found his hair and you gripped it tightly between them, pulling him closer.

He let you push your hips down onto his tongue, he let you set the pace to search for your climax. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around your throat, fingertips pressing into the sides until you moaned and your thighs trembled around his head.

He knew you were nearing your orgasm. Your legs struggled to stay open, your fingers dug into the back of his head, your eyes wouldn’t stay focused on his. He wanted as your mouth fell open and pulled back, making sure to keep his hand on your neck as he moved up and pushed you to lay on your back.

His fingers spread the mix of your wetness and his spit on your lower lips, then he circled your clit. You tried to reach for his wrist, to hold it still and grind against his palm, only to earn yourself a warning squeeze on your neck and a slap on your pussy. Your walls clenched and your mouth fell open.

“Please, please.” The plea fell from your lips, begging for mercy as you slowly reached for his hand again. “I just– just wanna ride your fingers, baby. You don’t have to do anything, I’ll do all the work.”

He groaned. “Did you just beg to ride my fingers, princess?”

He tapped your clit twice, then moved down to collect your wetness with his fingertips. Any punishment he wanted to inflict on you went out the window.

“Fuck, yes. Come here, sweetheart.” He was already sitting up and pulling you onto his lap, his hand disappearing between your legs again. “I want to watch you come all over my fingers.”

[joonipertree]

Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on

You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.

Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself

  Mikey was a dumbass. 

In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----

“Oi, Sano Manjiro.” 

The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching. 

“What?”

“Did you beat up the guy? 

“I beat up a lot of guys.”

“The guy who asked me out.”

Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye. 

“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”

“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”

“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”

You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends. 

“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”

And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no. 

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”

“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony. 

"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then." 

"Yeah I was already planning on it." 

No you were not.

You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.

♡

"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out. 

"I dunno what you're talking about." 

You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included. 

"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures." 

You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you. 

You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap. 

But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that. 

It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful. 

Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside. 

"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!" 

Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.

  With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.

 Pretty. Always so pretty. 

"How's your boyfriend doing?" 

Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere. 

"So you aren't gonna tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

"Why you punched an innocent dude."

"He pissed me off." 

"Why?" 

"Did you say yes?" 

"Answer me first." 

"I did." 

You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again. 

"It was an accident." 

Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened. 

"I don't believe you." 

"It's the truth. Answer my question." 

You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.

"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.

"You're pissing me off." 

"Good." 

There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist. 

Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin. 

And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression. 

Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits." 

You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin. 

"You need to stop fighting in public settings." 

"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it." 

"Where did you--- not gonna ask." 

Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him. 

"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him." 

Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue. 

"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar." 

"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close." 

"Then why did you ask---" 

"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend." 

Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him. 

“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”

“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”

Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease. 

"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste." 

"Manjiro." 

"What?"

"I'm not yours." 

"Since when?" 

"Since always!!" 

His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down. 

"What the fuck?"

"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat." 

"Everyone knows you're mine."

"I dont." 

Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---

"I found you first." 

Your palms slammed against the table.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"

And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. 

Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”

The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up. 

A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.

You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--

The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver. 

Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.

 But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world. 

“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder. 

You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye. 

“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”

Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.

 You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned. 

You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth. 

“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered. 

And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought. 

“Yours, in every universe.” 

Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss. 

“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out. 

You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head. 

You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.

Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.

Oh, how dare he 

He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face. 

 Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.

 Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane. 

You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless. 

“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”

And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had. 

“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”

He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind. 

Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted. 

“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”

And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.

“Stop teasing, jerk.”

The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair. 

“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier. 

“Don’ want you to be. Please.”

And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.

How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?

Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do. 

Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.

 The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.

Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:

“No hiding. Be good.”

You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment. 

“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”

“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully. 

The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss. 

You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you. 

“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?” 

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation. 

[hisvelvetfur]

S H A D O W ’ S M O T O R C Y C L E

18+ — MDNI!

You saw him every night on that highway. With his feet against the metal pegs, and the reflective lights on his golden inhibitor rings, following you, in the same direction.

There was an aura about him that intimated you. His black, velvet fur, with that sun tanned muzzle, and those crimson red eyes. He had a presence that felt alluring and dangerous. He was the embodiment of the night. Unconventional, taboo, sinful. You loved the way his quills blew in the cold wind. Highlighting the shape of his hairs while they sang with the air.

But most of all — You loved the way how his hands gripped tightly onto those handles. Accentuating the broadness of his hands. The shape of his fingers had a suggestive nature to them. The way they curved tightly onto the rubber. The way he would fix his gloves before setting on them. But there was more to him than just his hands that aroused you.

You liked the way how his back curved against the seat. Framing him in such a primal position. With that silky black fur, he looked like an obsidian illuminated by the moonlight.

He drove faster than any car on that road. And he drew that attention. The sound of car horns blaring across the street while he rode with no hesitation. He stole the show every time he set foot on that road.

“What the fuck asshole?”, a driver once said after Shadow speeded through a traffic of cars. He drove past him, nearly hitting and scratching his car. Shadow paid no mind to him and kept riding into the night.

And you liked that. The fact that he just didn’t give a fuck. That rigid and coldness to Shadow was attractive to you. He was bad. So bad. And he showed it in the way he drove that motorcycle.

There was a flavor of sensuality the way he rode that bike. It was methodical. Rhythmic. And incredibly sexy. He owned that bike. Controlled that bike.

The truth was, you didn’t want to be on that bike. You wanted to be that bike. You wanted him to ride you.

His hands, gripping on to your wrists like the handles. His legs, wrapped around you like the seat.

You wanted that control. To be owned by him. You imagined what he would smell like after getting off. After a long night through the city. Leather. Smoke.

With no protection. No helmet. No security. He rides with death on the line. And when he rides, he rides fast.

[notsopersonalcharlie]

My Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader fluff

Bucky is part owner of a mechanic shop and bar, but his girlfriend is the one who rakes in the big bucks, so who's to judge him (his friends) if he's just a little (very) whipped for her.

Notes: Based on this post and this post! In my own personal headcannon readers name is Noelle, which explains the nickname bell(e) lol. There will CERTAINLY be more installments of this story. Gif isn't mine

You muttered under your breath as you pulled your work shoes off your stockinged feet. There were runs at the toes because you were too lazy last night to cut your toenails. Too lazy and distracted by a certain biker coming home. The same biker who was waiting outside, who had kindly turned off the idling engine, but still waited on the sidewalk patiently holding an extra helmet. 

Bucky looked down at his phone. The Howling Commando group chat was blowing up about some sports game and Bucky turned the notifications off before making sure you hadn’t messaged. You hadn’t. He checked your location, you were inside the building in front of him. He checked the texts again and then put his phone in his pocket. Staring at it won’t help, is what you would say. What did you know? Everything, Bucky thought to himself. Sam would have laughed in his face if he could hear the inner monologue.

“See ya monday!” Your team's receptionist called. 

“Not a moment sooner!” You quipped back over your shoulder as you pushed open the glass double doors. All six feet and a bit of your biker were waiting on the sidewalk, tattoos peeking out at the neck and along the wrists speaking of one of your favorite features of his.

“Hi Buck!” He looked up and a grin split his usually stoic face. 

“There’s my girl.” Two long strides and you were wrapped up in his arms, a warm kiss pressed hard to your lips. Bucky spun you in a circle.

“I missed you, belle.” 

“I missed you too, Buck.” Anyone would have thought you hadn’t seen each other in days, but Bucky had stopped by only a few hours before to drop off your lunch.

“You’re not getting on the bike like that, honey.” You rolled your eyes, setting down your bags. 

“I know, I forgot to grab my overpants this morning. Do you have extras?” Of course he did, you knew that, but it was the sweet pout and big eyes just for him. You knew he loved to take care of you, so if you “forgot” the pants, maybe it was just because he liked to know he was always prepared. 

“Of course I do.” He waited as you slid the cargo looking pants up over your work bottoms. He stored your bags away as you did, and then sat down on the bike, making sure your helmet, the black one with muted flowers sprouting along the edges that he bought especially for you, was secure on your head.

You slid onto the bike behind Bucky, taking a deep breath of the mechanics grease and sweat smell that always seemed to live on his biking jacket, before snapping your visor shut. Bucky couldn’t help the way his heart leapt a little like always when you wrapped his arms around his middle and rested the chin of your helmet against the middle of his back. Two squeezes to check that you was ready or okay, two back to tell him you was good to go. Three squeezes to say I love you, four back to say I love you too. 

Bucky started the bike and took off back toward the little house they shared just two blocks down from the Howling Commando. You watched the scenery passively, relying on Bucky’s expert riding to get you home safe. You was so glad it was the weekend. Work had been busy, all week you had found yourself calling Bucky, letting him know that you had to stay late, that you would call a rideshare home so he didn’t have to come. Of course every night by the time you were ready to go, Bucky was sitting outside, leaning against his bike. The only day he wasn’t, it was because he had to drive a few towns over that afternoon to pick up a special part for your car.

Instead Steve had been waiting with his own motorcycle, grinning ear to ear as he recited precisely the text Bucky had sent to make sure you was dressed properly and your helmet was on correctly. 

“You know he has never, since childhood, through the service, after, never once, acting like this with a girl.” You just rolled your eyes, followed the instructions as you always did, and sat on the back of Steve’s bike and let him drop you off right in front of the white picket fence Bucky had insisted he would build when you first moved in. 

“You there, belle?” You blinked and found that they had already gotten home. 

“Yeah, just... thinking.” You slid off the bike, gravel driveway crunching under your feet. Bucky pulled your helmet off your head and his blue eyes were intent on your expression, his adorable little pout on his lips.

“What’s up?” You took the helmet from his hands, setting it on the bike before pulling his gloves off his fingers and then intertwining your fingers together. 

“I love our life, Buck.”

“I love our life too.” He looked worried, the little crease between his eyebrows so endearing as always. You lifted one hand to rub your thumb to the spot, eliciting a smile from him. 

“That’s all, baby. I want to spend every day of my life with you.” The grin grew, and you found yourself lifted in the air again, and seated back on the bike. His sweet demeanor towards you and his friends made it easy to forget that Bucky was six feet tall and made entirely of muscle, even if he had built up a healthy bit of relationship chub since you started dating. Bucky kissed you, soft in the dying light of the evening. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, belle.” You stood like that for a long while, till the glow of the sun was barely left in the sky and the automatic yard lights had turned on. 

“What do you want to do tonight?” Bucky asked. Sweet, as always, but it was the same thing you did every night. 

“I can get changed and we can head over to the bar.” And as always, “Only if you want, honey.” 

Bucky put your things away, dirty lunch containers in the dishwasher and bag beside your desk in the living room, while you got dressed. It felt like it was a fresh start to life when you pulled on comfy jeans and one of the well worn and soft shop t-shirts. You grabbed a sweatshirt, and then paused and got another one for Bucky, before heading back into the kitchen where Bucky was looking at his phone. 

“Howling Commando, huh?” Bucky joked. You nodded with a grin, tossing him one of his gray Army sweatshirts. 

“Only if you'll let me be one."

"You're already an honorary member," Bucky responded, pressing a kiss to your temple. You walked down the road less than a half mile hand in hand. The bar must have been getting busy on a Friday night, because you hadn’t even made it within view before you could hear the rowdy sounds of your friends and regulars. The front patio was full of folks, some spilling over into the front driveway of the shop. 

“Oh! Can I check on my baby?” You asked, popping up on your toes to try to look into the tinted glass of the garage doors. 

“I thought I was your baby!” 

“She was my baby first,” you shot back, already heading for the side door between the bar and shop. Bucky tossed the keys to you. 

“Do you want your usual?” He was already headed toward the front door of the bar. 

“Mmm, how about whatever cocktail special Sam is whipping up today?” He nodded and you unlocked the door, pushing into the dark mechanics shop. The side door led right into the garage, as opposed to the neat front office, or at least Yelena liked to keep it neat, and you fumbled in the dark momentarily to find the lights. They were slow to warm up, but you started toward where your car had been sitting for a few weeks, inoperable while Bucky painstakingly replaced every piece of the engine to make sure it was as safe as possible for his girl. 

Bucky walked in the front of the bar after saying hello to a handful of regulars and service buddies who still stopped by. Steve was leaning against the front of the bar, and clapped him on the back when he sidled up beside him. 

“Where’s your better half?” 

“Checking on her baby,” Bucky waved for Sam’s attention, “Where’s Nat?” 

“Trying to get her to take a break.” Yelena scoffed from where she was sitting on a stool on the other side of Steve. 

“As if you could ever make her do that.” 

“I said trying to,” Steve shot back as Sam walked over. 

“Where’s your belle?” Bucky scowled at his friend. 

“Wants whatever cocktail concoction you’re making. I’ll take the usual.” 

The custom painted powder blue vintage Mini Cooper was more assembled than it had been when you checked in on it a few days ago, and as you got closer you could see that it was almost done, a few pieces were still sitting on Bucky’s workbench. 

A slightly Russian accented call of your name identified it as one of the two Romanoff sisters, one who ran the front of the shop and the other the front of the bar. 

“Yeah, I’m back here.” 

“I figured.” Natasha appeared from the other side of a Cadillac SUV. 

“She’s almost done!” You grinned. 

“I heard. The guys put me on break and when I was refusing, Bucky said I should come make sure you didn’t linger too long.” You laughed. 

“He hates when I mess with his work.”

“Then maybe you should come let him mess with your make up,” Natasha suggested. 

“Are you flirting with me for Bucky?” you asked incredulously. The redhead laughed as you followed her out the side door, locking it behind you before going into the bar from the front. Multiple of the regulars called out your names, offering waves and grins, and the cacophony doubled inside. 

“Finally! The better one! I have your drink right here!” Sam called. You smiled, taking the drink. 

“Thank you, kind sir.” The bar was reaching capacity, pool tables in the back already in full swing. The waiters were a constant blur, Howling Commando Bar shirts identifiable in the bustle from the star logo in white. 

“Buck said you had a long week at work,” Nat said, returning to her spot at the front of the bar waiting to intercept underaged looking patrons. 

“It was a busy one. We’re tr- Actually, you don’t really care and I don’t really want to talk about it. Where is Bucky?” You responded good naturedly, trying to spot the brunet in the crowd. 

“I think I can see Steve’s blond ass over there,” Sam said, pointing further into the bar. You took your drink and headed toward the general direction. Steve and Bucky were in the corner near the office, heads together. 

“Hey Steve!” Both men looked up, eyes wide, at your appearance, and quickly took half steps apart. 

“Not at all suspicious guys. Good thing you were special forces.” Steve smiled, and Bucky looked a little shy. 

“Buck keeps trying to hustle me in pool,” Steve responded, “I have fallen for that many many too many years in a row. Your turn to carry the burden.” He pushed into the crowd, leaving you beside Bucky. 

“What was that about?” 

“Just business stuff. How is the Sam special?” You eyed him as you took your first sip, pleasantly surprised by the lack of a remarkable burn on the back end of the taste.

“Better than the last one.” Bucky's hulking presence should have been stifling or claustrophobic, but instead it was comforting. You looked up into sincere blue eyes and he leaned down, pressing warm lips to yours. Your hands slipped up around his neck, holding your drink out so the condensation wouldn’t drip down the back of his shirt. Bucky’s arms were strong and warm and one hand palmed your ass before pulling away. Bucky’s hand found its way around your back as you looked across the bar.

“You know, you guys really did something,” you said, “I know I say it all the time. But it's just amazing.” Bucky and Steve had wanted to start something after they left the service and with their penchant for drinking and ability to fix nearly any mechanized vehicle a bar and mechanics shop made the most sense. Three members of their team, Tim Gabe and Percy, had moved on with their lives, even though they stopped by when they rolled through town. Sam, the Romanoff sisters, Tony, and a half dozen more had joined the family since the start, but there were still plaques honoring the fallen Commandos above the bar. 

“All we knew how to do.”

You spent the rest of the night drinking with regulars, Bucky beating them in pool and not taking money from them, and you running drinks and convincing one of the girls at the bar that Sam was actually sweet and coming by again couldn’t hurt. 

“If that’s what kinda wing woman I get when I make a good cocktail, I should really do it more often,” Sam joked when the group of women moved off. Bucky appeared over your shoulder, sliding his pint glass over to his friend who refilled it. 

“What’s that?” 

“Just trying to get Sammy a girlfriend, since he blew his shot with all our friends.” 

The bar was still in full swing when Bucky and you said your goodbyes, and if Bucky picked you up and carried you over his shoulder fireman style while you giggled the whole way home so they could get back a little faster, that was between the two of you.

Wonder what Bucky and Steve were talking about... Find out here right now!

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card:Whats Next in your Love Life? Pick a Guitarist

Left to Right Top Row- Pile 1->Pile 2 Left to Right Bottom Row- Pile 3-> Pile 4

[Bonus: Keanu Reeves Gifs for each pile]

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+Free E-Guides on New Moon Manifestation and Gem Stone for Life Path

=============================

Pile 1: The Lovers, The Magician, The Star

Drawing The Lovers suggests that aligning yourself with the energy of love is crucial. This card signifies not only romantic love but also harmony and balance within yourself. It's essential to cultivate self-love and embrace your own worth. By loving and respecting yourself, you naturally attract similar energy from others. The Lovers also hint at making a significant choice in love, suggesting that being clear about what you want in a partner and relationship can draw the right person into your life.

The Magician card indicates that you have the power and resources within you to attract love. This card is a reminder that you can create your reality through focused intention and action. Utilize your skills, talents, and personal power to manifest the love you desire. The Star, as the final card in this pile, offers hope and reassurance. It suggests that by staying optimistic and keeping faith in the process, you can attract a fulfilling and beautiful love into your life. Healing past wounds and maintaining a positive outlook will set the stage for new romantic opportunities.

The Adventurous Partner

Loves Travel and Exploration: Always ready for the next adventure, whether it's a weekend road trip or an international journey.

Spontaneous: Enjoys making last-minute plans and trying new activities.

Outgoing and Sociable: Thrives in social settings and enjoys meeting new people.

Active Lifestyle: Prefers outdoor activities and physical challenges, such as hiking, biking, or water sports.

Optimistic and Open-minded: Approaches life with a positive attitude and a willingness to embrace new experiences.

==============================

Pile 2: The Empress, Two of Cups, Ace of Pentacles

The Empress card represents abundance, beauty, and nurturing energy. To attract love, embody the qualities of the Empress by nurturing yourself and others, and by creating a warm and inviting environment. This card encourages you to tap into your feminine energy, regardless of gender, and to focus on self-care and personal growth. The Empress also suggests that you might find love through activities that involve creativity, nature, or caregiving.

The Two of Cups signifies the possibility of a new romantic connection or deepening an existing relationship. It is a card of partnership and mutual attraction. By being open to connections and putting yourself in situations where you can meet new people, you increase your chances of encountering someone special. The Ace of Pentacles indicates a new beginning in the material realm, suggesting that practical steps towards building a secure and stable life can attract love. This could mean focusing on career or financial goals, creating a solid foundation for a future relationship.

The Intellectual Partner

Highly Educated: Values learning and often engaged in intellectual pursuits.

Curious and Inquisitive: Always eager to explore new ideas and deepen their understanding of various topics.

Excellent Communicator: Enjoys deep conversations and can articulate their thoughts clearly and thoughtfully.

Ambitious and Goal-Oriented: Driven to achieve their professional and personal goals.

Thoughtful and Analytical: Makes decisions based on careful consideration and analysis.

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Pile 3: The Hermit, Queen of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

The Hermit card suggests that attracting love into your life might require a period of introspection and solitude. This time alone is meant for self-discovery and understanding what you truly want and need in a relationship. By gaining clarity about your desires and values, you can attract a partner who aligns with your true self. The Hermit encourages you to be patient and trust that the right person will come when you are ready.

The Queen of Cups represents emotional depth, intuition, and compassion. Embracing these qualities within yourself can help you attract a partner who appreciates and reciprocates them. This card encourages you to be open to expressing your feelings and to nurture your emotional well-being. The Knight of Pentacles emphasizes the importance of patience and consistency. Attracting love might require steady, deliberate effort, such as gradually building a friendship that can evolve into something more. Focus on creating a stable and dependable environment that will naturally draw a like-minded partner to you.

The Nurturing Partner

Empathetic and Compassionate: Highly sensitive to the feelings of others and always ready to offer support and comfort.

Family-Oriented: Values close relationships with family and friends and prioritizes these connections.

Patient and Understanding: Exhibits great patience and a deep understanding of human emotions and behaviors.

Loyal and Reliable: Extremely dependable and trustworthy, always there when you need them.

Gentle and Kind: Treats everyone with kindness and respect, creating a warm and loving environment.

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Pile 4: The Fool, Page of Cups, Ten of Pentacles

The Fool card suggests that attracting love into your life might involve taking a leap of faith and being open to new experiences. Embrace spontaneity and be willing to step out of your comfort zone. This card encourages you to approach love with a sense of adventure and a fresh perspective. By being open-minded and willing to take risks, you can attract exciting and unexpected romantic opportunities.

The Page of Cups represents new beginnings in love and emotional openness. It encourages you to be playful, creative, and receptive to the messages your heart is sending you. By embracing a youthful and optimistic attitude towards love, you can attract positive and heartwarming connections. The Ten of Pentacles indicates that focusing on long-term stability and building a strong foundation can help you attract love. This card suggests that envisioning a future filled with abundance, security, and family can draw a partner who shares these values. Creating a vision for your ideal relationship and working towards it can manifest the love you seek.

The Creative Partner

Artistic and Imaginative: Possesses a strong creative streak, whether in the arts, music, writing, or other creative fields.

Passionate and Expressive: Lives life with passion and isn’t afraid to show their emotions and express themselves.

Innovative Thinker: Comes up with unique and unconventional solutions to problems.

Appreciates Beauty: Has a keen eye for beauty in the world, from nature to art and design.

Open-Minded and Flexible: Welcomes different perspectives and adapts easily to change.

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[fryingpan1234567]

DC high school au… mayhaps…..

I’m not sure if anyone’s done this before

But I’m doing it now

So the JL, right. These are famous alumni who made school history and now obvi they’re billionaires and reporters and museum owners but they’re not superheroes— just regular people

Liiike Clark Kent was the best quarterback the school has ever seen

Oliver Queen essentially revolutionized the archery team

Diana Prince convinced the school to start a fencing league

Barry Allen slayed both track and any and all chemistry competitions thrown his way

Arthur Curry… I shouldn’t have to say anything about his swim team career. That’s where he met his wife

Bruce Wayne was one of the smartest people probably ever, especially to grace that building

And so on and so forth

Anyways so these people are famous, and they’re up on the walls and display cases and shit

The staff!! Was so thrilled!! To be getting their children!!!!

(The principal counted down the days on his calendar after the news hit that Brucie adopted his first kid)

So.

Dick and Barbara are seniors. Dick is the cheer captain and Babs WAS on the team until a fun little accident that has her wheelchair-bound. (It’s fine, she discovered she actually likes computers better. She’d hacked the entire security system one day at lunch because she got bored)

Dick is kind of the queen bee of the school, which is hilarious, because he KNOWS but refuses to let it get to his head. This man will start water gun fights in the hallways for fun

Jason and Cass are juniors

Jason is one of the drama club’s absolute best (singing and acting). He played Billy Flynn in Chicago, Prince Charming in Cinderella, Aladdin in… yeah. He slays pretty hard

Cass is on the dance team and regularly misses class for some competition or another. Sometimes, when cheerleaders and the dance team collab on stuff (like assemblies), she actually likes the pompoms. She does not like the skirts.

Tim, Steph, and Duke are sophomores— people are s c a r e d of these three

Tim is known for constantly having a stockpile of energy drinks in his locker; sometimes a few of his friends get access to it. He’s also terrifyingly smart. And he’s got a bike. SOPHOMORE YEAR. TIM WHAT

Steph’s whole entire TikTok presence is lifting/ workout challenges against any poor scrub who tries to go up against her. She can lift the same amount as Jason Todd. That gives her a very confident “don’t fuck with me aura” around school, which is good, because she’s got zero interest in any guy there anyways (bi f pref queen)

And Duke… Duke is the golden boy, so the first time you see him in a sparring match with any of his siblings (they do that for fun at lunch), you’re very shocked to see him holding his own against Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown. He also slays

Damian is the only freshman in his family. Jason and Tim make fun of him endlessly

It is pretty impressive that a freshie organized the biggest fundraiser the school has ever seen— and it was for local animal shelters. Nobody knows how he did it. Probably intimidation. You never know with that kid

Now the superfam. Ohoho, yes, these legends go to that school too

Kara is a junior, Kon is a sophomore, Jon is a freshman. They’re all on the football team (their dad comes to every game🥰)

Did anybody expect a woman or freshman to land on the varsity team the first year either of them tried out? No. But they made it anyways. Good for them

And football is just so different from their day-to-day personalities, sometimes it gives people whiplash

Kara pretty much runs the broadcast and yearbook teams, and she does it along with dominating the football field and gym

Conner looks like he’d deck you for looking at him wrong (I mean he might but like he won’t… probably), and he’s like. He makes good fashion choices. He’s the Bad Boy, which is funny considering his nerdy bf is the one with the motorcycle

Jon is fluffy?? So nice?? Sir who let an actual decent person on the varsity football team?? When someone spots Dami wearing his letterman at some point, they become the most popular couple at school. As freshmen. Slay for them tbh

Donna Troy is a senior. Fencing and beauty pageants is a weird combination. But she knows she’s pretty and she’s gonna make damn sure everybody else knows too

Cassie is a freshie, but she’s already on the fencing team as well and several people have seen her sparring with Damian (wHERE did he get KATANAS), and it looks like a couple of war gods who happen to be fifteen are fighting to the death for a few yards of shitty grass behind the school

Conner Hawke, Artemis Crock, Emiko Queen, Roy Harper, and Mia Dearden are the archery team captains. Yeah, there’s five of them, yeah, the coaches couldn’t pick because the kIDS ARE BETTER THAN THEM

(Ollie laughed so hard he fell out of his chair when they came home and told him that)

Roy is a junior and definitely brings his bow everywhere he shouldn’t. He also “accidentally” shot Jason once. Whenever someone asks about their meetcute they just laugh until the person gets scared and runs away

Conner is a sophomore but a bitter old man in his soul. What a king

Artemis is also a sophomore and everyone thinks she’s Ollie’s favorite because she’s like a mini-him, but Ollie doesn’t actually HAVE a favorite and she finds this claim hilarious

Mia, third sophomore, has a very strange attraction to the color yellow. She LOVES it. And she actually pulls it off, how awesome is she

Emi is a freshman but gets along with Dami pretty well, which isn’t surprising considering their matching deadpan humor and lowkey murderous rage constantly

Jackson Hyde broke Arthur’s record for fastest lap on his fourth try. He spends more time at the ocean than literally anywhere else

Wally West and Bart Allen are technically not related?? They’re like. Cousins. But Barry ended up officially adopting Wally (long story)

Anyways they’re actually cousins with Jesse Quick

The three of them DOMINATE track and field/ cross country/ physics club (yeah you read that last one right don’t even with me)

Wally is a senior and working towards becoming a forensic scientist for the cops. When someone asks why the fuck he wanted to do that to himself, he always jokes, “I’m not fast enough to be a serial killer so I guess I’ll help catch ‘em” and everyone is scared

Bart is a sophomore but should be a freshie, because he’s almost a full year younger, except that he skipped fifth grade and went straight to sixth. Tim and Kon pretend to be his adoptive parents and it’s like a soap opera watching these three act out a dramatic divorce arc

Jesse is a junior (alliteration go brr) but a younger one (summer birthday WOO) she definitely takes after Barry, especially in speed

SO people call their friend groups chaotic. What are you gonna do, go up and fuck with any of them? Bad idea

For fun, these assholes run a fight club after school with betting and rosters and everything, with anyone who signs up. FOR FUN. Once the batkids learned their dad has a black belt in like six different martial arts, it was all over

They say it’s a good workout

They’re probably not wrong, but still

Who the fuck wakes up and chooses violence on all their friends and family all in good fun to make MONEY OFF OF BEATING THEM UP

The most viral videos taken from their school is a push-up contest with all eight batkids, seven competing, Babs filming

Cass won.

LET me know if you want more for this. Because I’m gonna write more. But if you had specific suggestions or characters or scenarios or questions, I would love to write them

Good morning/ night/ 4am!! (PS BACK TO SCHOOL WOO)

[loislane-ana]

NEWS! ~~~ doge, leavitt, tariffs, social security corruption, associated press, blue origin, taxes, atlanta e-bikes, close plane call in chicago, refugees, budget, ice, crime fighting drones, gas prices, fdr flood gates, hoboken path, nyc, snl

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 15-16 & 25-26

Prompt: “You look awful.” | “I’m fine.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Depictions of illness; vomiting; allusions to symptoms of stomach virus

A/N: Daryl’s human so humans with stomach bugs experience icky symptoms. There are allusions to those but nothing gross.

You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, your lip securely tucked between your teeth in anticipation. Carol chuckled behind you and patted a hand between your shoulder blades. 

“I think you’re actually vibrating, Y/N.” She laughed a little louder when you beamed at her before it softened into something a bit gentler. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone other than Judith so excited to see Daryl come back. Well, and me but that’s a given.”

“It’s been two weeks. I’ve been going out of my mind!” You made a crazy gesture with your hands and then clasped them together again and continued bouncing. 

“How does he do around all this…energy?” You went still and blinked at her, a great many questions swirling in your gaze. “No, no. It’s not a bad thing! You’re good for him. Great for him. I just wanted to make sure he’s not being a total grump and raining on your parade.”

Pursing your lips, you tilted your head. “No, not really. I mean, at first it was like he didn’t know what to do when I would do a cartwheel through the living room. He just stared a lot. But he smiled!” Daryl always smiled for you. In the beginning, it was only in private. All of it was. He was wary of you. 

You had lived in Alexandria since the beginning. Knowing now what you didn’t know then, he was justified in holding back, keeping secrets. When you had proven to be just the average person trying to survive, it was like a switch had flipped. He’d show up at your house unexpectedly. Sometimes you’d find him just sitting on the porch steps, having a cigarette. Other times, he’d actually knock and ask you to go for a walk. He even taught you how to defend yourself with and without weapons. He wouldn’t teach you to hunt though. Always said you’d scare off the game. 

Things evolved from there. It started small. Daryl wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed public displays of affection. Well, he wasn’t before you came along. He would still blush and duck his head if you kissed him in public. You were always the one to grab his hand but he never pulled away. Hugs were okay but he’d yelp (in a very manly way of course) when you’d grab or swat at his ass. 

It had been nearly two years and you couldn’t imagine life without the grumpy, quiet bowman. 

“I’m glad he found you.” Carol wrapped her arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head when you laid it against her. You were about to say something else when the shout came to open the gates. 

You jumped up and down, jostling the woman beside you but even as she laughed, you paid her no mind. Your eyes followed the man on the motorcycle. He rode through faster than he should have, something you always scolded him for but he’d only scoff at you. 

“You’re back!” You leapt on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, just as his boot touched the ground after dismounting the bike. “I missed you!”

“Ain’t been tha’ long.” He spoke into your shoulder. His arms held you steady but if he had let go, he would have found you securely latched to his front. 

“It’s been two weeks! That’s the equivalent of forever!” You pulled back and pouted at him, your lip jutting out further when he lowered you. “You hurt? Bring back all your parts?”

“Nah, M’good.” He answered tiredly. Your eyes narrowed when you realized how exhausted he actually looked; something off by the way he was even just standing still. 

“I think we should get you to bed and not for the fun stuff. Not yet anyway.” You stepped around him and retrieved his bag and crossbow, smacking his hand when he reached to take them from you. “I got it. Come on.” He was grumbling something about stubborn woman as he walked just beside you. 

You watched him from the corner of your eye, making certain to be discrete. Daryl would never openly show vulnerability, especially outside your home. He rarely let it be seen inside your home. At the very moment though, you weren’t sure if he realized he was doing it. His hand was clutching his stomach over his vest, fingers digging into the leather until his knuckles were white. His face was neutral but the pallor to his skin wasn’t something he could hide. 

You balanced his bag on your shoulder and opened the door for him, smiling cheerfully when he scowled at your special treatment. “Go on upstairs. You want a shower?”

“S’tha’ yer way’a tellin’ me I stink?”

“Yes, sir.” You noticed his hand had left his abdomen, but was flexing at his side. “You want something to eat? There’s some leftover venison stew that I could—”

The archer blanched, any color that was left present drained from his face while his throat visibly worked to swallow convulsively. Oh shit. Before you could even put down your burden, he dashed from your sight and into the downstairs bathroom, the sounds of his retching painful to hear. 

You placed his bag on the floor and the crossbow against the wall, walking quietly to the bathroom door. When you peeked around the doorframe, Daryl was on his knees, arms draped around the toilet seat with his forehead resting on his hands. He was no longer heaving but still spitting into the water below. 

You knew what his reaction would probably be but you couldn’t act like you didn’t care. “You okay?” The archer didn’t look up. He stretched out a leg and kicked the door shut. You had the good sense to not be in the way of the wooden barrier. 

You were expecting wounds and bruises, not stomach ailments. The medical supplies you had set up in the en-suite bathroom would remain there. You hadn’t seen much of him before he was sick and he could still have injuries that needed care. Now, you needed to add some fresh towels, clothes, and a basin of water with a cloth to put by the bed. You had some Tylenol from the infirmary, just in case he needed it for pain, not anticipating he’d probably need it for fever. 

There were a few cans of chicken noodle soup that you could drain the broth from later, but for now, until the nausea passed, you went downstairs for a few bottles of water. You doubted there was any ginger ale in the pantry but if you were able to see Carol or she came for a visit, you could ask. There was no way you were leaving him for it. 

Everything was set up, including the shower. You were hoping you could coax him in just to get him clean and comfortable. With a gentle knock on the door, you placed your forehead against it, wincing at the sounds coming from inside. Seemed like the toilet and sink were receiving his attention. 

Definitely a stomach virus, but you’d have to ask about what he’d eaten the past few days to rule out food poisoning and other gastric ailments. 

“Daryl? Are you okay?”

“Go ‘way.” The reply was gravelly and weak. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” You replied softly, promptly walking away from the door. He was going to be ultra embarrassed after that, so you had to handle things carefully. The last thing you or he needed was for him to try and run because he was ashamed of things he had no control over. 

You set about cleaning up the kitchen, though it barely needed it. You kept everything spotless most of the time. Daryl was always out doing physical jobs while you helped with inventory or delivered meals to the elderly residents. He didn’t need to worry about the state of your home when he was able to be there. 

It was about half an hour before you heard the toilet flush and the tap turn on. It ran for longer than usual. You assumed he was washing his hands and rinsing his mouth. His toothbrush was upstairs but you made a mental note to ask for two more to keep downstairs. 

You were leaning on the kitchen island when he finally emerged. He was drenched with sweat, his face flushed from embarrassment or fever. Maybe both. His belt was still undone but his pants were zipped and buttoned. Poor guy looked like a wreck. 

“Hey.” You called softly, earning his attention. “You look awful. Are you okay?”

He nodded, the movement jerky. “Thank christ fer indoor plumbin’.” He rasped, joining you on the other side of the island. He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the cool surface of the countertop with a sigh. 

“Did you eat anything weird while you were out?” You circled the structure to stand by him and rub his back in slow, soothing circles. 

The bowman rolled his head back and forth against the countertop. “Nah. Jus’ the regular expired canned shit we could find.” It made you sad to think that this was the norm now. Relying on food that was far past the date of recommended consumption. 

“When did you eat last?” You rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles stiff and knotted. 

“Yesterday afternoon. Wanted ta get back. Didn’ go lookin’ fer anythin’ today.”

Still could be food poisoning. You’d have to ask if anyone else was sick. “Let’s get you upstairs. Think you can shower?” Daryl straightened with a grimace before nodding. You met his gaze with a gentle smile, bringing up a hand to sweep the damp hair away from his eyes. “Come on then.” A hand on the small of his back gently urged him forward, his shuffling steps and unsteady gait giving him the appearance of a living walker. 

You trailed behind him up the stairs, braced and ready in case he lost his balance, but the ascent was successful without any tumbling. The archer was shedding clothing before even reaching the bathroom, down to his jeans and socks by the time he was standing in front of the shower. 

“Do you need me to stay?” It was a reluctant question. Daryl hated it when you hovered but he was sick and exhausted so it was an offer you had to give him. 

“Nah. M’fine.” He was unzipping his jeans when you pulled the bathroom door closed behind you. 

The shower began running moments later, so you busied yourself with grabbing your own pajamas, turning down the bed, and pulling a chair over to his side. As an afterthought, you placed the room’s small wastebasket there as well. The shower was still running when you heard the unmistakable sounds of another round of vomiting, your heart clenching at the painful noises. 

“Daryl?” You called loudly enough for him to hear through the door and over the spray of water. 

“M’…m’okay.” A low, strained answer from the other side. 

With nothing else to do, you sat down on the end of the mattress to wait for him. The toilet flushed but the shower continued for several more minutes. There was a brief silence followed by a shuffle of clothing, and the sounds of him brushing his teeth. 

When the door finally opened, he looked clean in his sweats and t-shirt but no less miserable. His hair was still damp, beads of water dripping from the ends. Even as undesirable as the situation was, it was hard not to take note of how normal he looked dressed like that. It was as if you were a couple before the end of the world, spending an evening at home in comfort and without fear. But the reality was that fear was always lingering. Always. 

“Bedtime for you, mister.” 

He couldn’t even manage to scowl at you properly, ending up with a tired frown dripping with resignation. He was slow to lower onto the bed and said nothing when you pulled the blankets over him. 

“Anything need stitched or bandaged?” You asked, brushing his hair away from his face. There was always a warmth that crept into your chest when he didn’t flinch away from your loving touches. 

“Jus’ a few bruises. Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” When you fixed him with a skeptical stare, he sighed. “Promise.” Daryl didn’t take that word lightly and never used it carelessly. 

“Okay, try to sleep.” You perched yourself on the chair, noticing he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned onto his side, facing you with his legs drawn up slightly. His stomach was surely angry and cramping, muscles tired from heaving on top of feeling nauseous. There was no hesitation in your hand resting just below his knee, rubbing the area in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. 

He was asleep within moments. 

Watching him grimace and tense without waking, you let your mind build scenarios and how you would handle them. If Rick came knocking with requests of the archer, you’d kindly tell him to get bent. If Carol came over, you could get her to fetch some things for you that would help keep him comfortable while he recovered. If he continued vomiting and couldn’t keep down the water at the very least, you’d need to leave long enough to grab Denise. 

Daryl woke suddenly, lurching over the side of the bed to retch into the wastebasket you had been smart enough to grab earlier. There was nothing left but acidic bile to bring up but it sounded no less brutal. You could do nothing but keep his hair out of the way and rub his back. There was a moment of consideration. Maybe if you could alert Denise, she would have something for the nausea. 

That train of thought was interrupted by the hunter shakily pushing himself back up only to sag back against his pillow. 

“Sucks.” He mumbled, eyes closed.  “Ain’t been sick since…S’been a long time.”

You were gently rubbing his stomach which he either didn’t notice or it felt nice so he allowed it to continue. 

“It won’t last forever.” You whispered, watching as he dozed off again. 

He was still resting comfortably when the knock came on the front door downstairs. Reluctantly, you rose from the chair, taking just another second to brush Daryl’s hair away from his eyes. He mumbled something, turning his head away, but remained asleep. You wanted to be quick.You just weren’t willing to leave him alone for long. 

“Hey!” Carol greeted with that gentle smile of hers. After all she’d been through, even with her apprehension about settling there in Alexandria, she was able to keep that kindness. Especially when it came to Daryl. 

“Hey.” You said, turning to look anxiously at the stairs. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s Daryl?” When you turned back to her, the smile was gone, replaced with growing concern. 

“He’s asleep. I need a favor. He’s sick. Could you grab a few things for him? Anything he might be able to keep down.” The other woman was already nodding. “Maybe put a bug in Denise’s ear in case she has anything for nausea.”

“Is he alright? Really?” Carol was leaning closer toward the doorway. It was obvious she wanted to go to him. 

“Yeah, he’s okay for now. He hasn’t thrown up in an hour or so but when he first got back…” You trailed off, looking back at the stairs again. “Could you please do all that for me? Then maybe come upstairs and see him? I know he won’t want anyone else seeing him like this. But you and me? We don’t count.” You smiled, knowing it was true. Carol and yourself were the only people Daryl was fully comfortable relaxing around. 

“You got it. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.” You watched her swiftly descend the porch steps before closing the door and nearly sprinting up the stairs. The bowman was still sound asleep when you returned to the bedroom. He still looked pale but there was no fever, no signs of dehydration just yet. 

You made yourself comfortable in the chair, drawing up one knee to rest your chin on it. You’d be his silent sentinel until he was better. 

Whether he liked it or not. 

[laurfilijames]

Flat To Filled

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Tig being a bit of a perv. Oral sex (M receiving). Unprotected intercourse. Sex in exchange for a service.

Summary: Your flat tire turns out to be a very happy nuisance, and a scene right out of a porno.

A/N: I got a flat tire a couple of months ago and came up with this idea while waiting for it to be repaired, though sadly not by Jax Teller.

---

"You've got to be fucking kidding," you mumbled under your breath, seeing the low tire pressure light illuminate on your dash.

It didn't seem like that long ago you had finished paying off the loan used to purchase the new set of tires, and as you put your car in park and climbed out of the driver's seat, you prayed it just needed some air and wasn't completely flat.

"Fuck."

The tire was smooshed right against the hot asphalt, and crouching down to run your hand along the circumference of the wheel, your fingers caught on a screw buried into the rubber.

At least you weren't rushing anywhere in particular, you thought, having only been on your way to grab yourself a coffee from the cafe in downtown Charming, laughing in realizing the irony in the situation that you were meant to be saving money anyway. The silver lining was that your flat just so happened to take place about two minutes down the road from Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair, and with the sun shining and feeling pleasantly warm on your skin, you didn't necessarily mind going for a walk.

The gates of the entrance were open as you approached, the yard full of Harley's and various members of the nefarious motorcycle club along with some vehicles actually being repaired by mechanics, your presence quickly being noticed by everyone in the vicinity.

"And how can I help you, sweetheart?" a man with black, curly hair and soul-piercing blue eyes drawled, his pervy tone making you grin and tilt your head in amusement as he stood straight from leaning over his bike and puffed his chest out, his hands securing themselves on his belt to help draw your attention to his crotch.

"I have a flat," you began to explain, hooking your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of where your car sat abandoned on the road. "I was hoping someone could take a look and hopefully patch it."

"Yeah, probably, but there's something else I can definitely help you with."

"Jesus Christ, Tig," another man's voice sounded from inside the garage. "Stop preying on innocent people."

The sight of the man defending you made your heart leap into your throat, and suddenly the mid-afternoon sun wasn't the cause of the sheen of sweat growing on your skin.

Messy, blond hair that rested at his shoulders surrounded his gorgeous face like a halo, and if the blue eyes on the first man were anything to admire, his were like looking into an abyss that would swallow you whole.

He didn't shy away from looking you over up and down, a crooked smile dressing his lips that were surrounded by scruffy, bleached stubble, his smile only spreading more to create lines around his mouth when his friend walked past him and slapped his shoulder.

"See, told ya."

He strutted into the garage while still looking back at you obviously, nearly tripping over his own feet, leaving you and the living incarnation of Helios standing somewhat awkwardly.

He nodded his head behind you, "So, what's wrong?"

"Just a flat. There's a screw in it. I was hoping someone would have time to patch it for me."

"Yeah, let me take a look," he grinned again, squinting slightly from the bright sunlight as he wiped his oily hands on a rag he held.

You took note of his slender fingers and how rough and worked yet soft the skin on his hands looked, curious as to what else they were capable of, and how the way the large rings that adorned them enhanced the appeal to feel them on your body even more.

"Is it just down the road?" he asked, beginning to walk over to the wall where a bunch of keys were hung on hooks.

"Yeah, about two minutes," you confirmed, remaining in place.

He held a set of keys up and tossed them up in the air before catching them, "I'll go give it a lift, then. You can wait here if you want. Despite your first impressions they're all pretty harmless."

His smile had you nearly bursting into flames, and holding out your own keys for him to take, your fingers brushed each other, igniting even more heat within your body.

He winked at you as he walked confidently over to the tow truck parked on the far side of the row of bikes, allowing you the opportunity to eye-fuck him just as he had you minutes ago.

Even with how baggy his jeans sat on his lower half, you could tell he had a perfectly plump ass that would no doubt power some hammering thrusts, and his back and arms were shaped nicely by strong muscles that showed through his t-shirt and mechanic's shirt that had the sleeves torn off, making you bite your lip as you thought how this unfortunate event was proving to be anything but.

It didn't take long for him to return with your car being pulled behind the tow truck, flashing you another smile as he hung his left arm out the window, a cigarette hanging from his inviting lips.

You watched the production as a few other mechanics went over and began helping him, the assistance he received allowing opportunities for glances your way, his silent flirting making you flush and shift on your feet.

Within minutes the tire was off and being carried into the bay of the garage, and as he got closer to you, you were able to see the name embroidered in black thread on the right side of his chest.

Jax.

You mouthed it, the whisper of those three letters feeling like silk on your tongue, and you wondered how saying it out loud and on repeat in the throes of pleasure would make him react; all smiles and that boyish confidence shining brightly as he basked in your praise, or a brutal and claiming side coming to reveal itself after being encouraged by your mantra.

He slammed your tire down on the workbench closest to the door and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing dirt and grime across it, and gave you a smile and a nod as he parted those luscious lips and started talking.

"So, you from around here?"

"Yup," you confirmed, placing your hands in the back pockets of your shorts to force your chest out a little further.

He hummed as he started to work, "I would've remembered a pretty face like yours."

"Do you say that to all the girls you help?"

Jax shook his head, his eyebrows rising on his forehead to crease it. "Nope."

He looked completely innocent despite it being a blatant lie that he could barely get away with, and you knew that was exactly how a man like him was likely to get everything he wanted.

"Well, I really appreciate you dropping whatever else you were in the middle of to sort me out," you thanked. "Jax…" you added, his name sounding sinful from how lusty your voice suddenly became.

He tucked his bottom lip in his teeth, smiling big even with the restriction, his eyes dancing and alight with mischief as his hands paused what he was doing.

"My pleasure."

His words were spoken with such conviction, as well as what you hoped was a promise or at least a hint at a request, and for whatever reason, the more you were in his presence and talking to him, the more daring and confident you felt yourself becoming.

"Is it?" you asked, watching as he leaned against the workbench, his forearms flexing and showing off the tattoo decorating his right one, his glare serious and almost threatening while his lips continued to feign innocence.

"I think it's going to be."

Time passed too quickly for your liking, your very effortless and charged conversations with Jax tempting you into driving the pocket knife that you kept tucked away in your purse into one of your other tires just so you could spend more time with him; his efficient handy-work resulting in your tire being back on your car and good as new in the fastest forty-two minutes of your life.

“You're all set there, darlin’,” he drawled, squinting at you in the beaming sun with a crooked grin as he wiped his hands on the rag he pulled back out of his jeans.

“Looks like it. Thank you.”

“You have somewhere you need to be?” he asked, leaning against your car comfortably.

“Not necessarily,” you answered, part of you praying he would extend an invitation to something that involved you staying longer and having those lips that were still curled into a smile pressed against yours. They were perfectly shaped and full and impossible to stop admiring, and the fantasy of learning how good they would feel refused to quit playing in your mind, deeming him a talented kisser without even knowing.

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, the assumption that this repair would cost the equivalent of at least twenty of those speciality coffees you were on your way to getting making a pit settle in your stomach.

His bottom lip tucked between his teeth and he chewed on it while still managing to grin mischievously, the brightness of it reaching his eyes.

"I think we can work something out."

You swore you had to be dreaming, finding yourself being led through Samcro's clubhouse and down a hallway where you were continuously stopped to be pressed against the wall and kissed until you were breathless, the sound of your bodies slamming against the wood panels and your shared laughs drowning out the loud music coming from the common area.

It always felt good to be right, you thought, your speculations that Jax knew how to kiss exceptionally well turning out to be more than correct, the way his tongue claimed your mouth and his lips sealed against yours making you quickly abandon all morals and sense of reality.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he walked backwards with you into a room, the scent of stale smoke mixed with a bit of weed overpowering the hint of cologne that lingered, and once inside, Jax pushed the door shut and shoved you up against it.

He slowly peeled his face away from yours, taking a deep, steadying breath, his eyes trailing from your chest up to your lust-drunk eyes while his arms braced on either side of you to cage you between him and the door.

"We do accept cash, too," he smirked, his smile growing when you laughed and shook your head.

"I'm afraid I don't have any on me…"

"See that's too bad," he said, his tone falsely serious. "Non-paying customers tend to get fucked in a situation like this…"

The emphasis and double-meaning he put on that one sinful word made you ache and visibly squirm, and you did your best to keep your hands to yourself while you waited for him to move first, only to fail miserably.

You gripped at the edges of his gray mechanics shirt at the same time your mouth crashed against his, peeling it off his arms with his help as you walked forward, forcing him backward into the middle of the room where he ran into a chair, causing both of you to laugh between kisses.

Next came his somehow still freshly white t-shirt, the pure glee that overcame you when you whisked it over his head and laid eyes on his smooth skin and impressively ripped torso making you feel dizzy, and trying to get to the rest of him as quickly as you could, you hurried to unbuckle his belt and send his jeans that were already half-way down his ass to the floor.

You glared at him hungrily as you reached out for his hard cock that strained against his loose boxers that managed to be an even brighter white than his shirt, and stroked it through the cotton appreciatively, watching his head tip slightly back and his eyes close as he succumbed to your touch.

"Fuck," he chuckled, his abs contracting as he did, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his trunks to get rid of them.

"May I?" you asked, the innocence in your request contrasting heavily to how impurely you were looking at him.

"Since you asked nicely," he drawled, holding his hands up away from his body to allow you to do whatever you wanted.

With an excited and satisfied grin, you tugged on his shorts, your mouth instantly watering as his cock sprung free from them and bounced wildly before you, his size and girth and perfectly veiny shaft confirming that the man standing proudly naked before you was utterly perfect.

"Like what you see, darlin'?"

Rather than answering, you wrapped one hand behind his neck and pulled him into you, kissing him madly and desperately while your other hand took hold of his silky flesh and pumped him slowly from tip to base, feeling him flex in your palm.

You basked in this for a couple of minutes until Jax regained control and guided you somewhat forcefully over to lean against the edge of the desk that sat against the wall, his thigh wedging between yours as he gathered your wrists in his one hand and held them up over your head, his other one left to trail up your side, pulling your shirt up along with it.

His mouth attacked your neck while he teased you, the sensation making you roll your hips on his thigh to get some friction on your needy pussy, and when he growled as he got to your breasts that you hadn't bothered to restrict in a bra today, you nearly came undone.

"Fuck, you're hot," he muttered, roughly tearing up your shirt to remove it from you, and he took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him before diving to your mouth again, his hand squeezing at the fullness of your chest and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You whined into his mouth and arched your back in order to get closer to his touch, your body begging to be used by him in any way possible, this self-made porno you were suddenly living out making you hornier than you've ever been before.

"Are you gonna fuck me, or what?" you asked, his keen attention making you feel bold and powerful.

He chuckled and shook his head, his blond locks moving with the action.

"Patience, darlin'. You need to remember who's paying who here."

You nodded and smirked, pushing off the edge of the desk to take hold of his cock again while you slowly sank to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes to see a very satisfied and eager look on his face.

Pressing your lips against his smooth tip, you spread the precum that leaked from it across them and stuck your tongue out, that first delectably salty taste of him making you swallow thickly as your mouth watered, your thirst for him skyrocketing. You gripped the base of his shaft as you eased him inside your mouth, taking him slowly inch by inch until you reached your hand and your nose was tickled by his flaxen hairs.

Bobbing on and off of his length and swirling your tongue around his head each time you passed it, you worked him steadily with your hand, the sound of his appreciative curses and groans making you squirm and shift on your knees and moan as well, taking him deep into your throat so he could feel the vibrations on your windpipe.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he hissed. "That's it, baby."

His praise sent a shiver down your spine, making your nipples harden even more in addition to you gagging on him each time he pounded the back of your throat, the way he bucked his hips and lightly held your head in place encouraging you to want to be wrecked by him in whatever way he saw fit.

He laughed in disbelief as he gently held your chin and told you to stop, mad at himself for doing it, but not ready to end this with you yet.

"Fuck, you're good. That pretty little mouth of yours sure has some talent," he purred, using his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth.

"Then you should've let me finish…"

Jax chuckled again as he helped you up off the floor, a sound that made you melt each time, his eyes shining with a playfulness that matched his cheeky smile.

"Oh, no," he said, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. "Your debt isn't going to be repaid that easily."

Your breathing became shallow as the way he looked at you turned from kind and light-hearted to intense and almost dark, and he grabbed your face and kissed you roughly, stealing your breath from you as he leaned into you in an overpowering way, his cock poking you and reminding you of its impressive size that you were about to have to try to handle.

He snuck a hand between your heaving bodies, cupping between your legs where an intense heat radiated, and began to rub your pussy through your shorts with a taunting pressure.

"This pussy's gonna feel good, isn't it?" he asked, dragging his hand harder over the material that kept you from him, the whole act and his question driving you mad. "I bet it's nice and tight…"

"Fuck, yes…" you whined, grinding against his hand even more, your head tipping to the side in an offering for him to kiss your neck.

He did, granting you one of your many wishes, sucking and nipping at the tender skin where your pulse hammered frantically.

After another minute or two of torture, you raked your nails up along his back, feeling desperate for him to give you what you so badly needed.

"Please, Jax," you begged. "I'm so wet."

He pulled away from your neck, kissing your swollen lips sloppily as he removed his hand from between your legs.

"Yeah? Lemme see, sweetheart…"

With deft fingers he ripped open the button on your shorts and tugged them down your thighs aggressively, his pupils blown wide when he noticed how your slick had darkened your panties and soaked them through completely, the corner of his lips curling upward menacingly.

He leaned in and kissed you again, a little sweeter this time, a display of his appreciation for how ready you were for him and how much he was enjoying this game with you.

That only lasted for so long though, the more he danced his tongue with yours the more he felt completely out of control, the need to drive his cock into you coming to the forefront of his mind once again just as it had since the minute he met you.

He released your cheeks from his gentle hold and used both of them to grab onto the side of your thong, tearing them off of you barbarically, the sound of ripping cotton making both of you more feral than before.

You sat up on the desk, holding his head to keep him kissing you as he settled between your legs, his cock nudging your inner thigh dangerously close to your center. It was all heavy, panting breaths and the sound of teeth clashing together as you went at each other furiously, your fingers making a tangled mess out of those gorgeous blond tresses, your nails no doubt leaving red scratches all over his pale skin.

With a sharp inhale to catch his breath, Jax broke the messy seal of your lips enough to look down at you naked and spread beneath him, slipping his fingers slowly through your wet folds to gather your slick on his fingertips, admiring you before slamming them inside you deep enough that his rings prevented him from going any further, pumping in and out before hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Your cries filled the room, the build-up to this making everything feel more intense than you could bear, your hips moving to meet the tempo of his hand enthusiastically and instinctively.

"You want that dick?" Jax asked breathlessly, his cock throbbing and ready to explode if he held off any longer, the sensation of your pussy clenching his fingers and coating them with your juices making it worse.

He was always diligent about wrapping up when it came to sleeping with new chicks, but something about you made him want to bury his bare cock deep inside you and drive into you again and again, the thought of seeing your cunt leaking with his load sending him into a fury.

"Yes…fuckkkk!" you screamed, your consent barely past your lips as he pushed into you, stretching you out over his thick girth.

A shuddered breath escaped your lips as you sought to adjust to his size, Jax giving you no mercy as he immediately started hammering into you with ruthless force.

By the time he had rammed himself into the deepest part of you, you were both so close to falling apart, not taking long to get each other right back to the edge where you had been left hanging, the rhythm chosen by him and matched by you one that was sure to put this desk through the wall in no time.

It shook precariously beneath you, and it seemed the threat of breaking the damn thing only spurred Jax on more, his brutal thrusts increasing as he worked even harder to ruin you.

His skin became slippery as he began to work up a sweat, your hands gliding over his shoulders and up the column of his neck as you tried to hold on to him as best you could.

His praise at how good you felt was broken up by a variety of curses, the way he sounded as he got so lost in you making the pressure in your core erupt rapidly, and you strangled his cock through your release, soaking him enough for you to hear the lewd squelching through your mind-numbing euphoria.

"Fuck!" he roared, his last thrusts slowing in pace as you coaxed out his end, his cock pulsing inside your choking walls and filling you up with his hot cum in vicious spurts.

His sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead as he leaned it against yours, chuckling while he fought to catch his breath.

"That was…"

"Yeah…" you panted, hardly able to believe just how incredible it was, your whole body tingling and alive with pleasure.

He smiled against your lips before kissing you sweetly, humming into your mouth while he remained inside you, wanting to relish in the after effects for as long as he could.

You made out until he eventually slipped from you, the loss making you whine and you both to slowly cease your kisses.

“I've never done anything like this before,” you admitted, feeling totally liberated in your behaviour as you watched his sweaty, naked, and absolutely perfect form step away from you, his smile beaming at you once again.

He winked at you, “Me neither," and ran a hand through his hair to try to fix the mess you had made of it.

“For some reason I don't believe that," you chided, tilting your head as you remained in your spot, his cum starting to drip out of you.

“You shouldn't," he purred, strutting back over to you, his eyes fixed between your legs where you could tell by his expression that he enjoyed what he saw.

He held your waist, his head tipping to the side as he looked down at you, his voice low and lusty when he spoke.

"Still have nowhere to be?"

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @theesirenteller

I went ahead and tagged everyone I have written down for my Charlie/Will Miller taglist so my apologies if you're not interested in being tagged in Jax fics and I will happily add or remove anyone as they wish!

[azulonso]

What We Have – marcmarc (e) ao3

"He has done it, a one thirty seven point five, a new all time lap record in Argentina, and it's from Marco Bezzecchi on the Aprilia."

Marc's eyes shine, widening as he watch the rider that's being talked about from his garage's screen. Impressive, he smiles to himself. Not that he couldn't do it too, he's very much capable, and he's going to do it. Let them play their little game together, others are irrelevant.

At the end Marc sets the new lap record, Marco is happy enough for a secure spot for Q2, his pace has been great this far.

8.21 PM

Motorhome in 5 minutes.

Marco reads the message and gets out from his own motorhome, checked his surroundings before he walks towards the Ducati's motorhome labeled with a big, red "93". He knocked at the door, soon Marc opens the door as if he has been waiting for Marco's arrival. Atleast that is what Marco think.

They have been doing "this" for a while, what do you call it? Hooking up? Friends with benefits? Can they even be counted as friends? "Frequently fucking your competitor that you're supposed to hate" suits better, maybe.

Regardless, it's nothing serious and it's not that deep anyway. Plus it's a great "stress reliever" too, especially in race weekends when one of them fucks up their race. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right? Also they had agreed on keeping it private.

"You have been fast this weekend," Marc starts as he sits on the edge of the bed. The younger just nods, not getting any clue on what the older rider is on. Marc patted his lap, "C'mere," Marco moves closer, now he's standing in front of him.

Marc's lips curved into a smile, "Sit down," he orders, hinting at the floor. Marco followed the instruction instantly, and settled himself between Marc's legs. Marc hands move to gently caress his cheek, he leans onto the touch.

"At this point, you're going to catch me tomorrow, cause a lap record isn't enough, yes?" In the right mind Marco wouldn't believe that, overall this track is Marc's too and there are still more things to improve about the bike, but the thought of only them, fighting for a win, it excites him. His dick stirs up at that thought, making his pants uncomfortable.

He was about to reply, but the only thing that came out from his mouth is a whimper– Marc is now pressing his heel against Marco's crotch, leaving a sensation for the other man, "What are you waiting for? C'mon take your reward," he pressed again.

Marco gets the hint and started grinding against Marc's leg, just like a dog. Marc continues to shower him with praises, "My champion, no?" making his head dizzy.

Marco is gone by now. He's chasing his orgasm, Marc could notice that, since he's getting more and more desperate. They keep their eye contact, not breaking even a second, the air is heavy with desire.

"Marc– please," Marco finally speaks. It's hard for him to come like this, but he feels like he's going to. His eyes are glossy now, no tears forming but the sight riles the older's up. He's waiting for Marc's approval, not wanting to upset him. It reminds Marc of a trained dog. Not like he didn't "accidentally" train him, but that story is for another day.

"Such a good boy, looks like I have teach you well hm?" Marc coos as he hold Marco's chin between his thumb and index finger. He could just go on like this, even leave Marco hanging, but he wanted to gift him as much as possible tonight. Also he had more plans in mind so he'll stick to them. He will take his time.

"You had earned it, go on, come," and that was enough to make Marco come so hard, brain numb with pleasure, eyes shut, mouth agape. The view really does something to Marc, now that he's getting hard too.

Marc sits up, striping off his clothes, letting Marco admire the show. Marc ordered him to lie on the bed while he helps him strip too. The wet underwear gets discarded too, that's going to be a hassle for Marco to clean since there are still two days of work. Not that he really cares now, because Marc is currently positioning himself on top of him, lining up over his dick.

"Keep your hands to yourself, eh?" he told him.

"Just like that, good boy," he lowers himself on Marco's cock.

The Italian tries to resist the urge to touch Marc's body, he wants to grip that waist, to feel that muscled ass on his palms, or even stroke his dick that has been ignored by Marc himself, since he's more determined on bouncing up and down while his hole deliciously squeezes the cock inside. He lets Marc use him however he likes and that brings him his satisfaction too. He wants to be good for Marc.

He's beautiful like this, Marco thinks. Marc's hair has gotten long, the curls sticking to his sweating forehead it almost reach the eye. Marco's hand is on automatic when he moved the bangs behind so they dont get into the older's eye. The act receives a smile from Marc, a geniune one that he rarely shows the public. It made his heart skipped a beat.

Minutes have passed, Marc has been ignoring Marco's hands that now are gripping on his waist, he couldn't focus as much as when this started, due to the younger's cock hitting all his sensitive spots. His voice is getting more difficult to hold, strings of "Marco," "Please," keep leaving his mouth.

"I'm close," Marco said as he felt Marc getting tighter around him, desperate for his release.

"Me too," Marco pulls Marc body to make their lips meet. The kiss is messy, hungry, also unexpectedly tender– it's like it's shared between lovers– not like whatever they are.

Marc broke the kiss first, breathing heavily, "Inside me, please," and Marco is happy to fulfill his wish. They began making out again as Marco released his load deep inside. Marc soon follows, with Marco's hand wrapped around his cock, the come dirtying his hand.

They looked at each other, trying to catch their breaths, before Marc falls into the bed. After some seconds, Marco gets up, "Shower?" he asked the other man. Marc looks at him and nods, letting Marco carry him to the bathroom.

The shower is clearly too small for two grown-up men, causing it to only leave a few centimeters between them.

Marc grabs the small shampoo bottle, put it some on his and Marco's hand. "Duck down a little bit." The other was a little bit confused but he does it anyway. They ended up helping washing each other's hair, it feels domestic like this. it's almost like– like they've lovers. That thought again, huh.

Marc settled into bed right after putting a new boxer on, while Marco tries to put the blanket over him because he knows he needs to go back to his own motorhome– just to be interrupted by Marc, "Stay?" he asked, even holding Marco's right hand, trying to pull him down to the bed too. He doesn't answer and immediately lays beside him.

The clock is ticking, and Marc could hear Marco snores faintly. He turns his position to look at the sleeping man, "I wish this would last forever, it'll be nice if you're mine instead," he said. He brushed off that thinking and closed his eyes.

I want to be yours too, Marco answers in his head, pretending to be asleep. Well he doesn't want to ruin this, whatever they have, between them. What if Marc is just carried away because they have been doing this for too long? Maybe he shouldn't stay over so he wouldn't stress over his feelings. But regardless he lets himself to enjoy this moment. The perfect time will arrive for them, maybe.

[turbofanatic]

I’m sorry but I’ve been dying to know ever since you posted the aeromorph: is there a hellflower fandom? Do people anthropomorphize the hellflowers? Flowersonas?

IRL? Some people have done hellflower fan art and it’s always lovely.

In the Aphelion universe? A hellflower-sona would be rather gauche because they’re like, real people. There are fandoms for actual hellflowers though, something akin to influencers with military hardware. Hellflowers are built to be incredibly confident and perhaps a bit vain, so they typically indulge in these fandoms and do a decent job of keeping them from getting as rancid as you’d expect. Do gross things and they might wipe all your internet enabled devices. The hives won’t really stop them because really, people ought to know better and it’s good practice to secure your devices.

Imagine Swifties if Taylor Swift could perform orbital bombardments and… yeah it’s actually amazing the hellflower fandoms are only somewhat rancid.

As far as common ‘sonas go, there’s “currently” a trend for old cars, vehicles, and bikes, something about wanting the freedom to travel around outside fearlessly. Millie’s sona is a mountain e-bike with cat stickers.

[lenreli]

with a glimpse of your teeth [2/2, Dreamling]

[AO3] | [Chapter 1]

Ah yes, more of mafia Dream/bodyguard Hob or, you know, Reacher-ish inspired fun!

After a million years or so. Enjoy~ 💖💖

E, 3.5k.

-

Hob blinks, can feel that he’s definitely going to check for bruised ribs, but, “that’s unimportant,” he frowns as he looks around, going through the dead bodies ― their pockets, more specifically, pulling out some matchboxes and fancy lighters from one with a hum. “We have to go.” 

Dream follows along, blue eyes fixed on him as they climb out the window, landing on the metal fire escape rails outside. Even though they were on the first floor of the mansion, big and sprawling, all brick and mortar, a line of windows in front of them, which does make things handy for him. 

Glancing away, he can see the exit, and a car, much like Dream’s own mansion. This place would have lots of security around it as well. One, maybe two. Three? Frowning, he pulls out one of the matchboxes, lighting it quickly and throwing it into the room they were just in. “Down,” he whispers, tugging Dream down by the arm so they’re under the windows. 

Swiftly, he lights a match ― then throws it in the window, continuing down the line of the escape as screaming starts, and they hide behind some greenery as Hob lights even more, and finding windows to the basement, he opens those and throws more in. 

At this point, the mansion is burning steadily, fire department probably called at this point as Hob puts the matches into his pocket, using the chaos of it all to grab Dream as they walk quickly to the car, doors opening. But turned off, with no key as Hob gets into the driver’s seat. 

Huffing, he opens up the panel behind the wheel, hotwiring the car, the skills rusty, but much like riding a bike, it comes back easily as he crosses wires. “You can hotwire a car?” Dream asks as the car revs to life, the chaos opening the big security gates as he drives them out of the area. 

“Why wouldn’t I know?” He asks in return, adjusting the mirrors to watch their back as a fire engine drives by. Three, he decides as they drive back into the city.

-

Parked in some unassuming street, Hob motions for Dream to get out as he looks at the rows of cars, walking along the street, choosing an older car to take this time. The locked door is easily opened with his butterfly knife, and then he opens the passenger door before he hotwires it. 

“Really? Can’t we just go straight home?” Dream asks, voice pouty as they drive. 

“No,” he is all he says, on high alert as they drive close to the other edge of the city, then doing the same thing ― jacking an older car from a street, Dream getting even more whiny as they enter the third car, which does smell suspect, Dream rolling down his window to breathe in the evening air, the sun making its way down ― which’ll make the next part a bit easier. “We’ll go to a hotel.” 

“A hotel?” Dream at least sounds interested in that, pressing against his side as they drive into the more tourist areas, plenty of hotels along a stretch of road as they get out of the car. Hob starts at the hand on his face, Dream keeping him still as he wipes the blood off it. “Hob,” Dream scowls, not looking happy as―ah, Hob’s mind ticks over as Dream kisses him. Hob’s mind freezes, still in clean escape mode. Dream pouts as the kiss ends. “Really? Nothing?!” 

“Once we’re safe,” he promises, voice flat as they wait outside the front of a hotel, one of the cheaper ones. Hob lifting a wallet from someone who looks rich. “Order a room, one person,” he says as hands the wallet to Dream, who still looks frustrated ― sexually, by the looks of it. 

“This hotel?” Dream asks with distaste. 

Hob rolls his eyes, “ground floor. Just do it.” 

-

Finding Dream’s room is easy, and soon enough Dream opens the window, letting him in as sits on the windowsill. “This one,” Dream says flatly. 

“No,” he says dryly as Dream slots between his knees, expression confused. “Come on,” he says ― though, as he moves to leave, Dream grabs his waist, pulling him in for another kiss. Sighing, he holds Dream’s jaw, taking a moment to appreciate the soft skin as he strokes it with his thumb. “Just a bit longer,” he whispers, pulling himself away, and Dream groans as the kiss ends. 

Blue eyes plead at him before Dream sighs, hopping outside of the hotel. “Now you’re just being cruel,” Dream huffs. 

“If you like,” he offers, tugging Dream along by the wrist, walking to another hotel nearby, this one notably fancier, and up to Dream’s standards as they wait at the entrance, Hob lifting another wallet easily. 

“Were you a thief, before?” Dream asks once he’s back to him, and Hob shrugs, looking through the wallet, satisfied. 

“I did have to survive,” Hob says as he leads them inside, booking a room for two.

-

In the elevator, mirrors reflecting them, Hob stares at Dream, mind ticking away from escaping as he grabs onto Dream’s wrist closest to him, fingers pressing into the other’s ever-quickening pulse. Dream’s muscles flex  under his hand, leaning closer to him and Hob thinks about what Lucifer revealed, now that he can think of living another day.

As soon as they’re in the room, Hob pushes Dream against the door, tightly gripping the lapels of the other’s suit jacket as they kiss, and he enjoys the shiver he feels as his body covers Dream’s. Hands hold onto his biceps as they kiss, Dream letting out a moan as Hob puts a knee to Dream’s groin, can feel the arousal building as they kiss. 

Dream clutches him, nails digging in Hob moves down to nibble at the other’s jaw ― and his hands move up, digging his own fingers into Dream’s neck, making Dream gasp from the sudden lack of air. “What else did they do to you?” He asks quietly, thumbnails pressing into the skin under Dream’s adam’s apple. 

There’s more wheezing and spluttering as Hob lifts him, feet off the floor as Dream’s hands move to his wrists. Dream stares at him with wide blue eyes, mouth moving soundlessly as he gapes for air. Pursing his lips, Hob puts him back onto the floor, choked grip loosening as Dream sucks in a breath. Hob watches, feeling Dream’s heaving breaths as he swallows. “Nothing like you,” Dream rasps, voice rough and pleading. 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he says, nosing at Dream’s jaw, can smell the sweat and smoke from their day, thumbs trailing up the soft column of Dream’s throat, fingerprint bruises already showing on the pale skin. 

Dream shudders as his thumbs press in, can feel the bones of him as Dream shudders, eyelashes fluttering as Dream presses against him, fingers scrabbling to his palms, lightly scratching, “fuck, I,” Dream breathes as his he applies a bit more pressure to Dream’s neck, “can’t think. Hob.” 

Hob can feel Dream swallow, bones and muscles fragile under the skin as he lets go and tugs Dream by the jacket lapel to the hotel bed. Dream crawls onto his lap, hands digging into his shoulders as Dream heaves for breath next to his ear. 

“I think,” Dream groans, and there’s a tiny whine as Hob traces the fresh bruises under the other’s jaw, “I remember something.” Hob hums, forcing Dream’s neck up so he can nose at the purpling marks, “they used to record us fucking, and then we would, they’d play the previous video sometimes―” Dream groans, pressing into him as he bites at the marks, making them redder, mind sparking at the thought of having Dream on video like this, “they probably burnt up in the mansion, but, Hob, please,” Dream pleads. 

“Perhaps they did have a good idea or two,” he says, pushing Dream onto the bed, and he grimaces as a knee hits his bruised ribs, distracting Dream from his reaction by tugging off Dream’s clothes, shoes being hiked off before Dream wriggles out of his pants. 

“Hob,” Dream whines as Hob sits between his legs, getting out a small lube and condoms from an inner pocket of Dream’s jacket, “enough about them.” 

“You may have a point,” he says, smiling as Dream gasps and presses down on his finger, the warmth and velvet squeezing around him making his cock ache. Dream rises up to kiss him, pulling him in as Hob licks into his mouth. 

Hob puts more fingers in, making Dream keen, nails digging into his suit, hands desperately scrabbling over his chest, his beard and into his hair, roughly holding onto it as Dream’s hole gets stretched. “Need you,” Dream says, voice cracking. 

-

Unlike Hob’s own room at the Endless mansion, Dream’s bathroom has a large black bathtub ― which is useful for when he wants to relax in it, soaking in just-a-bit-too-hot water. And it’s especially nice to have after some painkillers for his ribs. 

Head resting on the edge, his eyes open at the sounds of doors opening ― Dream, can tell by his footfalls. Shutting his eyes, Hob goes back to clearing his mind as he hears Dream move around his room. The bathroom door opens and he hears Dream let out a breath. “Hob,” Dream says as he opens his eyes, staring at the other man in the doorway, still in the rumpled suit with no tie, “you’re here.” 

“My room here doesn’t have this,” he replies, waving a hand above the tub as Dream walks closer in socked feet. And then, Dream steps inside the bath, Hob raising his brows as Dream flops on top of him, fully clothed as the water ripples softly over the edge.

Dream lets out a sigh and Hob can feel as he uncoils, tension seeping out of him as a nose brushes against his neck. A bony elbow brushes against his rib and he grimaces, a hand coming up to stroke Dream’s dark hair. “I was wondering where you were,” Dream says, voice small.

“Relaxing,” he answers, his other arm going around Dream’s back ― then to gently pull Dream up, whose blue eyes are closed as Hob takes off the other’s sopping wet jacket and shirt, the items plopping onto the floor. Dream just hums as his hands go slowly down the other’s pale skin, covered with various bruises and marks, eventually tugging off Dream’s pants and underwear. “How was the reunion?” He asks with a smirk, thinking of his own tiring debriefing with security, then a looking over from the doctor. 

“My siblings aren’t happy that Morningstar’s dead,” Dream says against his chest, hands patting his chest hair, “especially with Burgess’s power vacuum too.”

“Much like when I talked to security,” he hums. “Morningstar and Burgess were known, and now there’ll be more struggles for territory by people, people that aren’t known entities. More people to cut deals with.” 

Dream groans and presses deeper into his skin. “Enough of this.” 

Hob smiles and continues stroking Dream’s hair, content to have Dream’s weight on him as they soak in the water.

-

A week later and early in the morning is when Dream returns to his room, momentarily pausing as Hob sits up from the bed. He should’ve expected it, considering that Dream’s loose black clothes are splattered with orange and red paint. Dream hovers close to him, leaning down to greet him with a kiss, cold hands on his cheeks as Dream crawls into his lap. 

Hob puts his own hands on Dream’s face, and he can feel him shiver at the leather gloves on his hands. Dream lets out a whimper, tongue pressing into his mouth desperately as Hob guides Dream onto the bed. Hob shivers, pleasure slow as Dream arches into him ― and puts a hand into his pocket, fiddling with the remote until he hears the soft whr of the video camera he set up on top of a black set of drawers nearby.

Nibbling at Dream’s jaw, he uses his other hand to put Dream’s head to the side, “look,” he whispers into the other’s ear, making Dream let out a sound at the camera, the red light on it shining. The viewscreen is flipped, showing them on the bed, and Dream whines as they kiss, as Hob tugs off his paint-splattered shirt and pants. 

“Hob,” Dream cries out, pulling him into a rough kiss as Hob’s gloved hands trail down his torso, breath shuddering into Hob’s mouth as pale legs wind around his hips, heels digging into his back. Hob hums, biting at red lips as a hand goes down to stroke Dream’s cock to full hardness. Dream keens, hands scratching up his blazer. “You,” Dream breathes, hands scrabbling around to pull ― ripping off the buttons of his dress shirt, and Hob groans as cool fingers tug at his chest hair. 

Dream squirms deliciously under him as his free hand pinches pink nipples, enjoying the sight of black gloves with Dream’s luminous skin and pink bruising to a darker red. The hand stroking Dream becomes smoother from pre-come, he can feel it as Dream writhes, blue eyes only showing a thin stripe of colour as he brings Dream closer to orgasm. Nosing at the straining neck in front of him, he brings his hand to force Dream’s head back to the camera, keeping a soft pressure, can feel Dream’s throat moving as he swallows, “watch,” he says. 

“Hob,” Dream breathes, desperate as a hand moves from his chest to undo his pants, then belt ― and Dream hisses as the belt comes off, a splash of red on a few of the daggers lined on the inside. Dream’s bloodied fingers come up to caress his cheek, and Hob’s heart skips at the blood, can feel it dripping and smeared on his beard, dragging him into a kiss. “Close.”

“I want you to,” he says, biting down on Dream’s collarbone as he strokes, making Dream shudder and whine around him, hands clutching the back of his suit jacket tightly. “We’re only just starting,” he whispers into Dream’s skin as Dream twitches, and Hob speeds up his hand until Dream comes with a shout, coating his hand with white fluid. 

Dream gasps and arches into him, shouting turning into a groan as Dream thrashes, only taking a breath once his hand is off Dream’’s dick, now soft and oversensitive. Hob swallows, own cock throbbing and still confined, but he just ignores the feeling of it, focusing on sucking marks onto Dream’s shoulder as he reaches into an inside pocket of his jacket with his come-covered hand, pulling out a small bottle of lube. 

Moving to sit in the middle of Dream’s legs, he sits up, taking note of the other’s glassy eyes and red lips, still watching the camera ― which Hob forgets about once more as he wipes clean his glove on the jacket, then takes it off, picking up his belt with it and throwing them onto the floor, daggers making a brief metallic sound as Hob considers his clothes. 

He did take off his weapons and shoes in preparation, aside from the belt, so he just shrugs and takes off his shirt, pants and socks, leaving only the gloves as the rest joins the clothes on the floor. Dark blue eyes stare at him as he puts some lube on his fingers ― then Dream gasps as two fingers go inside his hole. Hob sucks in a breath at the tightness of it, the way Dream keens, throwing his head back as he feels resistance, the gradual loosening of Dream’s walls. 

Hob passes time by the slow, languid way he stretches Dream open, counting minutes by the way Dream moans as he eventually adds another finger, putting his other hand on Dream’s hip to stop him from moving too much. “Hob,” Dream strangles out, twitching into his fingers ― then away as they press into prostate, making him shudder. 

Soon enough, Dream’s cock hardens again, twitching and leaking as Hob puts in a fourth finger, Dream grabbing onto biceps as he’s fingered into a second orgasm, Dream panting into his ear as come shoots up to his neck. 

Hob’s fingers press in more, making Dream beg, though Hob can’t tell whether it’s for more or less with the way Dream says his name, so Hob continues. Pulling his fingers out makes Dream whines and pout, legs winding around his hips again. Huffing, Hob looks between their bodies, putting more lube on his cock ― and Dream gasps, nails scratching into his back as he easily reaches the hilt, the slide inside Dream smooth. 

Biting down on Dream’s collarbone so he doesn’t come immediately, Dream continues to dig his nails into him. “Move,” Dream breathes. 

Everything else falls away as he slowly builds up a rhythm, eventually feeling Dream’s arousal once more, though with almost no pre-come compared to before as he slowly fucks Dream into a third orgasm, lost in the way Dream whines and shudders against him, a hand tugging his hair as he stays inside Dream’s loose warmth, their bodies sweaty and covered in come. 

The fourth orgasm he pulls from Dream is slow ― and painful, Dream boneless, on top of him as Dream keens, still leaning into his touch as Hob guides Dream up and down by his hips. 

When Dream comes, it’s dry and he can only tell by the way Dream wails, walls squeezing around his dick until he also orgasms, the relief making him gasp as Dream lies boneless over him. Patting Dream’s hair, he reluctantly slips out, Dream whining as he does, though Dream does seem to be very unconscious by this point. 

With Dream on the bed, he leans in to press a kiss to a cheekbone as he gets up, wiping his gloves on the sheets and taking them off before going to the bathroom so he can wipe Dream and himself down with a wet towel. Looking around, he blinks at the camera, still rolling, then gets up to stop the recording, putting it on the bedside table as he picks up his dagger-lined belt to clean off the specks of Dream’s blood in the bathroom. Wiping off the blood on his face, Hob also checks Dream’s fingers, finding only shallow cuts on a few fingers as he wipes them clean.

Groaning, he lies down on the bed, Dream curling himself around Hob as soon he lies down, arms around his shoulders and Hob only manages to pull up the sheets before he falls asleep. 

-

Two small knocks at the door wake Hob up, though not Dream as he carefully extricates himself from the other man and puts on his pants, as well as getting out a spare dress shirt from the spare outfit he keeps in Dream’s drawers. Opening the door, he raises an eyebrow at Death as he closes the door behind him. “Yes?” 

Death gives him a scrutinizing look as she crosses her arms, “I wanted to talk to you,” she says, dark eyes boring into him. “If you hurt him―” 

Hob tilts his head, thinking at Death’s unfinished sentence, “I’ve only hurt him in ways he wants to be hurt,” he offers, a smug sort of happiness at the way Death scrunches her nose, not wanting to think of her brother like that. “Why now? Surely you could’ve done this before your parents died?” 

Death’s lips, “well, I had to do it eventually. And even with your―skill, you won’t be able to hide from me,” she says, voice steady and powerful, and Hob believes her. 

“Okay,” he shrugs and Death scowls at his lack of reaction. Death leaves, boots stomping down the corridor as Hob goes back into the bedroom. There’s quiet moans, Dream’s face hidden by the camera as he watches what’s been recorded. 

“Who was it?” Dream asks, voice croaking and raw as Hob sits on the edge of the bed. 

“No-one important,” he says, pressing a kiss to Dream’s temple as Dream hums, eyes on the viewfinder as the sounds of last night fill the room. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Water,” Dream asks, the video sped up lightly. “And toast. With jam. And fruit. And something for you.” 

Hob nods and gets out his other spare clothes, putting his jacket on and finding his belt in the bathroom, then his shoes near the bed. “Painkillers?”

Dream shifts and grimaces, then nods. Knowing Dream, he’ll most likely stay in bed for the rest of the day ― while making eyes at him, wanting more. 

Hob’s hand is on the door handle when Dream speaks, stopping him. “You didn’t,” Dream stops and swallows, voice barely there, “you could’ve continued, after I was unconscious,” Dream says, blue eyes big. Hob shivers, arousal blooming quickly, and he licks his lips as he considers. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

[Fin]