#i still =kind of like it but i think id need to lean harder into the orange rim light

[lemongogo]

dungeon lord marcille ft. timelapse

[theonottsbxtch]

99 PROBLEMS PT2| MV1

an: after many requests, i've changed up our beloved max. this has not been proof read so pls don't judge i am tired and have had the shittiest week of my life i swear but im slaying i promise!

wc: 5.5k

part one

The morning after was a slow burn of pain.

Noah woke up with a headache that felt like someone was hammering on his skull, each pulse a reminder of his poor life choices. His mouth was dry, and the room seemed to spin even though he was lying still. The sunlight creeping through the curtains made his head throb even harder.

He groaned and pulled the blankets over his head, trying to bury himself in the comfort of the pillow, but it was no use. The light was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, he threw the covers off and staggered to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror was enough to make him want to crawl back into bed—hair a tangled mess, his face pale, and his eyes bloodshot. He splashed water on his face, feeling the coolness settle his nerves slightly, but he still wasn’t ready to face the world.

A thought occurred to him—he hadn’t eaten last night, and he needed food if he was going to survive this hangover. He stumbled toward the kitchen, squinting against the light.

The kitchen felt like a foreign land. The open windows made it bright, the kind of brightness that seemed determined to make him suffer. Noah squinted, trying to locate anything he could eat without being blinded.

Lights off, he thought, grumbling. He reached up, turned off the overheads, and then fumbled his way around the counters until he found the stove. The dim light coming from the street lamps outside was barely enough, but it was better than the harsh sunlight.

He opened the fridge and pulled out eggs, butter, and a bottle of orange juice, setting them on the counter. He moved with the deliberate slowness of someone trying not to trigger the next wave of nausea, and as he grabbed a frying pan, something on the counter caught his eye.

A small bag. A lipstick. A pair of earrings.

Noah froze.

He had no idea whose stuff it was at first, but the instant he saw the ID half-hidden under a paper towel, he couldn’t look away.

He reached for it cautiously, flipping it over to see the name on the card: Rosa, 21 years old.

He stared at it, blinking in disbelief.

Twenty-one.

His brain took a second to process the shock. He’d seen a lot of women come and go last night, but this was different.

His dad—Max—had slept with someone only four years older than him.

He shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, making the room feel hotter and his stomach churn.

He bent down, rubbing his temples to stave off the headache, and that’s when he saw them—clothes strewn across the floor. A dress in a heap near the kitchen table. A pair of high heels kicked to the side like someone was in a rush to get out.

Eugh, Noah thought, feeling his stomach twist in disgust.

Thank god he’d come home early with Charles. He’d heard the stories—heard about what Max was like when he had a good time—but seeing it for himself, well, it was a whole different level of uncomfortable. He would’ve had to witness this, the aftermath, the leftovers of his dad’s typical antics.

Noah closed his eyes, leaning back against the counter as if he could shut out the entire night. He’d had enough of his dad’s antics for the next year—or lifetime.

Sighing deeply, he pulled the pan from the stove and cracked the eggs into it, the sizzling sound a small distraction from his thoughts. The smell of cooking eggs filled the room, but it didn’t do much to calm his nerves. It was just another reminder that life went on, even when things felt messed up.

As he scrambled the eggs, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d seen—the lipstick, the earrings, the stupid ID. Four years older than me?

He made himself a plate of scrambled eggs, avoiding the now-infamous counter, and took a seat at the table. He sat there quietly for a while, the silence pressing in around him.

Noah was just finishing his eggs when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and to his surprise, Rosa—Max’s most recent conquest—emerged from the hallway wearing nothing but one of Max’s oversized t-shirts. She looked a little uncomfortable, and her eyes flickered nervously toward him as she stepped into the kitchen.

Noah immediately pointed toward the hallway. “The dress is right there,” he said flatly, trying not to look at her.

She hesitated, clearly flustered, and then lowered her gaze. “I—sorry, I just—uh…” She trailed off, clearly not sure how to act around Max’s son.

Noah watched her, already knowing the answer but still asking. “Why did you do that?”

Rosa bit her lip. “He’s... he’s Max Verstappen,” she said quietly, as if that somehow explained everything.

Noah felt a pit grow in his stomach. He leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “He’s at least fifteen years your senior,” he replied, his voice laced with disbelief.

She seemed taken aback by the bluntness, but nodded sheepishly. “I... know. I don’t usually—well, I guess I’m not exactly thinking straight when it’s him, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Noah said dryly, then added for her benefit, “It’s Max Verstapen, right?”

She bit her lip, then grabbed her dress from the hallway and quickly went to change. Noah couldn’t help but feel relieved—he had no idea what to say to her, and honestly, he didn’t need to.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway brought him back to the moment. A few seconds later, Max appeared, stretching lazily as he entered the kitchen. His hair was still a mess from the night, but his grin was as wide as ever.

“Morning mate,” Max said, ruffling Noah’s hair as he walked by. 

Noah just stared at him, unimpressed. “Twenty-one, really?” he asked, shocked.

Both of them ignored her as she walked out, Noah still in disbelief.

Max chuckled, clearly not fazed, and started rummaging through the fridge. He opened a carton of eggs, cracked a couple into a pan, and began cooking.

It wasn’t long before Max’s phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and swore under his breath, muttering, “Fuck.”

“What?” Noah asked, curious, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Max looked up, his face briefly reflecting an uncharacteristic moment of stress. “My personal assistant,” he muttered. “She’s off annual leave today.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “What’s so bad about that?”

Max sighed dramatically. “She keeps my life together, kid. Without her, I’d be completely lost.”

As if on cue, they heard the front door creak open. The sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed in the hallway.

Max’s face fell. “Oh, double hell,” he muttered.

Noah looked at him, confused. “Who’s that?”

The door to the kitchen swung open, and a woman walked in, looking both exasperated and amused at the same time. She was in her early thirties, with sharp features and a no-nonsense attitude that immediately made her stand out.

She didn’t waste any time. “Blocking me during my annual leave doesn’t work, Max Emilian,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Max stood up straight, putting on his most charming grin, which, unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to work on her. “Hey, sweetheart, how was the holiday?”

She didn’t even look at him before turning her gaze to Noah, who was watching this whole scene unfold with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow. “Who’s this?”

Max froze for a split second before clearing his throat. “Uh, this is my son... Noah,” he said, sounding almost awkward.

The second she heard “son,” her eyes widened in shock. “MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN,” she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. “What on earth have you gotten yourself into now?!”

Noah couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the way she was laying into his dad. Watching Max get his ass handed to him by someone who clearly had authority in his life was, honestly, one of the funniest things Noah had seen in a long time.

He leaned back in his chair, his mouth twisting into a grin. “This is... amazing,” Noah muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Max, on the other hand, looked like he was regretting every decision he’d ever made. “Sweetheart, come on,” he said weakly. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, Max,” she said, crossing her arms, unimpressed. “It’s exactly as bad as it looks. I leave you alone for three weeks, and you end up with a what? a 16 year old who clearly looks hungover!” She turned to Noah, her expression softening just a little. “Nice to meet you, by the way. But please—please tell me you’re smarter than your dad.”

Max groaned and rubbed his temples, clearly still nursing the hangover. “Ugh, I’m hungover,” he muttered, dragging himself to the kitchen table and sitting down.

She didn’t even glance up from the folder she was pulling out of her bag. “Don’t care,” she said with a roll of her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his state.

Noah snorted with laughter, the sound escaping before he could stop it. He couldn’t help it—there was something undeniably hilarious about watching Max get shot down so effortlessly. Watching the great Max Verstappen, the Formula 1 champion, get treated like an everyday guy was something he hadn’t seen before.

She caught the laugh from across the room and shot Noah a playful smirk. “You think this is funny, huh?” she asked, but her tone was light, not harsh.

Noah raised both hands in surrender, still grinning. “You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “This is gold.”

Max shot him a sideways glance but didn’t say anything—probably because he was too busy trying to drag himself through the worst hangover of his life. He ate his food silently, still looking miserable, while she—who, honestly, looked like she had her life together more than anyone else in the room—slid a thick folder across the kitchen table in front of him.

“Here’s the menu,” she said, flipping it open. “You’ve got a race in two weeks. Act like it.” Her voice was firm, almost maternal, but there was a certain softness to it that suggested she genuinely cared about Max’s well-being. And maybe Noah’s, too.

Max groaned again. “Really? The race is two weeks away. Can’t you just let me suffer in peace for one more day?” he asked, looking up at her with a feigned pout.

She didn’t even blink. “I don’t care,” she said again, flipping through the folder with surgical precision. “You’ve got media events, sponsorship meetings, and training sessions that you will attend. You can wallow later, when you’re not about to crash a car into a wall. So do me a favour and get it together, darling.”

Noah watched the exchange with a growing sense of admiration for her. She had a way of keeping Max in line that Noah hadn’t even thought possible. The pet names, the obvious affection she had for him, it was like a love language they both spoke—but she could flip into business mode faster than anyone he’d ever seen.

Max’s face softened, and he finally gave in, wiping his face and nodding. “Fine. Fine,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re right. Just... can I get through one cup of coffee before I start pretending I’m an athlete again?”

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “You’re not pretending, you are an athlete,” she said, her tone turning teasing, but still with that edge of authority that made her impossible to ignore. “But I’ll let you have your coffee.” She shot a glance at Noah. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re not allowed to slack off like him.”

Max snorted. “What ideas? He’s seventeen,” he shot back, clearly exhausted but trying to rally for the sake of their ongoing back-and-forth. “You think he’s gonna let me off the hook?”

Noah grinned. “If you can get away with it, I might give it a shot,” he said with a wink, feeling a rare moment of camaraderie with his dad—well, his dad when he wasn’t being an idiot.

She just shook her head. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” She pushed the folder over to Max again. “I’m serious, Max. The team’s not gonna wait for you to nurse a hangover. You’ve got a busy week, and you need to start acting like it.”

Max finally straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck, but then something like a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked at her with that familiar cocky glint in his eyes, a look Noah had seen a hundred times before. But this time, it wasn’t as obnoxious—it was affectionate.

“Alright, alright, you got it, princess,” Max said, using one of his usual pet names. She didn’t flinch, but Noah swore he saw the faintest trace of a smile tug at her lips.

Noah felt like an outsider looking in on this little dynamic, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously, princess? Can’t you do any better?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Don’t get me started on the pet names,” she warned. “You’ll regret it.”

Noah chuckled, obviously enjoying the banter. He turned back to her. “If I call you princess, will you cut me some slack?”

“Not in a million years,” she replied with a smirk, her voice as calm as ever.

Max sighed dramatically, clearly not used to being outside of a joke, but he dropped the act, finally flipping through the folder in front of him. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Noah leaned back in his chair, watching the two of them with a mix of awe and amusement. It was clear—she wasn’t just a personal assistant. She was the one who kept Max’s world from falling apart, and soon maybe Noah’s, too. He’d never seen his dad so... well, manageable before. She’d probably seen it all—his dad’s hangovers, his cocky attitude, his late-night escapades—and yet she still kept things running smoothly.

Maybe that’s what he’d needed all along—someone who could manage the chaos, someone who could actually keep him grounded.

“Well, I guess I can’t slack off anymore either,” Noah muttered, pushing away from the table and grabbing his plate. “Guess I’m in this with you, huh?”

Max looked up at him and gave him a playful nudge. “You know it, kid,” he said, grinning. “The real work starts now.”

She stood at the counter, her movements fluid as she made a cup of coffee for Max. She placed it gently in front of him, then gave him a look that made it clear she wasn’t done yet.

“Your room,” she said firmly, raising an eyebrow. “Strip your sheets, air it out. It smells like sex in there.”

Max groaned, but his tone was playful. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he muttered, picking up the coffee and winking at her as if it was no big deal.

Noah watched the exchange, silently chuckling to himself. It was actually kind of adorable how well Max and she worked together. They didn’t seem like just a typical boss-assistant duo—they had a rhythm, a comfort with each other that made it hard to believe they weren’t more than that.

She raised her eyebrows at Max, clearly not impressed by his teasing. “Go,” she commanded, making a shooing motion toward the hallway.

Max rolled his eyes but shuffled off to his room, his back already to them.

She then glanced over at Noah, her expression softening now that it was just the two of them. “Alright, kid,” she said, her voice changing slightly. “Now, how did you end up here?”

Noah hesitated, unsure how much to share. He wasn’t used to talking about his family—about his mum. But she had a way of making him feel safe. She didn’t press, didn’t rush him, but her eyes were kind, giving him the space to speak if he wanted to.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, trying to find the words. “I was an accident,” he finally muttered, looking down at the table. “My mum... she was one of the many girls in and out of his life. She never really stuck around, I spent more time with my grandma.”

She nodded, encouraging him with a soft, understanding smile. She was so good at making him feel like his feelings mattered, like he wasn’t just a burden. “And after that?” she asked, her tone gentle but full of curiosity.

Noah paused, swallowing hard. “She just had enough, I guess. She couldn’t wait until I turned 18, so she shipped me off here to my dad.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, a little embarrassed by how honest he was being. “I don’t know if she ever really wanted to be a mum. But when it came down to it, she couldn’t even handle me for a few more months.”

Her expression softened even more, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice low and comforting. “That must’ve been really tough on you.”

Noah gave a half-shrug, but there was a weight to it. “It was. But, I mean... what can you do? She made her decision, and now I’m here. With him,” he said, glancing toward the hallway where Max had disappeared, an almost nostalgic look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether it was disappointment or something else—maybe just the surrealism of the situation.

She watched him closely, like she was trying to read him. “Do you want to stay after your eighteenth birthday?” she asked carefully. “Or do you think you’ll go back to the States, I’m assuming that is where you’re from?”

Noah felt a tight knot in his chest at the thought. He hadn’t really thought about it—hadn’t been asked. His whole life had been in limbo for the past three weeks, ever since he’d arrived in Monaco. “I don’t really know,” he said, exhaling deeply. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I turn 18 in a couple of weeks... and I guess I’m still figuring things out. It’s... it’s a lot to take in.”

She nodded again, giving him time to process the weight of it all. “Of course,” she said, her voice warm. “But listen, if you want to leave, we can make up for the missed child support. If you don’t feel comfortable here, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, okay?”

Noah didn’t know what to say at first. He felt like he hadn’t even had time to adjust to life with his dad before people were talking about the next step. But then something in her words hit him. We can make up for the missed child support. She was offering him an option. She wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying; she was giving him a choice, and that felt... different.

“But if you want to stay,” she added with a smile, “we can make up for lost time. And I’ll take you shopping.”

Noah chuckled, feeling a little lighter at the thought of her offer. It was a small thing, but it was enough to make him feel like he had options. Like maybe, just maybe, he could make a life here.

“Shopping, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the deal-breaker?”

She smiled knowingly. “A little retail therapy never hurt anyone. Plus, it’s a good way to build a real wardrobe.”

Noah smiled back, surprised by the warmth in his chest. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he wasn’t just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe—just maybe—he could find a place for himself here.

Over the next few days, Noah couldn’t help but notice the unique dynamic between his dad and her. It was almost like a carefully choreographed dance—Max would slack off, mess around, maybe even throw a tantrum, and she would step in like a well-oiled machine, putting everything back in order without missing a beat.

She was the one who could actually control him, Noah realised. Not that Max ever looked like he was being controlled—he had that cocky, self-assured air, like the world owed him something. But she was the one who could gently rein him in, who knew exactly when to cut him off, when to play the tough love card, and when to let him have his moment of weakness.

And Noah saw it. He saw how Max listened to her. He’d always thought that Max did whatever he wanted. But with her around, he noticed a shift. She was the one who could keep Max grounded in ways Noah never could, and in that, Noah saw something—something that made him wonder if, maybe, she was the only one who could be perfect for his dad.

It was race week, and everything was running at full throttle. Max was his usual self, the high-octane Formula 1 driver, constantly on the go, living off adrenaline and the expectations that came with it. They boarded the private jet with a few of the other drivers, and as soon as they were in the air, Max and his mates turned their attention to technical talk, while Noah, feeling out of place but not entirely unwelcome, found a seat beside her.

As the engines hummed in the background and the landscape below them blurred into a sea of clouds, Noah let himself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. She was reading through a set of files, occasionally glancing up at him with that comforting, steady gaze she had perfected.

“So...” Noah said, breaking the silence after a while, “How did you get this job?”

She looked up, offering him a warm smile as she closed the folder in her lap. “That’s a loaded question,” she said, her voice playful but still laced with that underlying wisdom. “How much time do you have?”

Noah grinned, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got all the time in the world, it seems. Might as well learn something interesting.”

She chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Well, I’ve always had a thing for organisation. I’ve worked in a lot of high-pressure environments, but this—” she motioned around the jet, a flick of her hand that encompassed the luxury, the chaos, the busy hum of the race world “—this was different. I actually came into it by accident.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Accident? How does someone accidentally end up working with the best Formula 1 drivers in the world?”

She shrugged casually, like it was no big deal. “I used to be a personal assistant for a couple of big-name corporate execs, and after some... interesting situations, I realised I needed a change. My family had always been involved in motorsports, so I started working for a racing team, just answering emails, scheduling meetings. Then one day, Max’s manager called me in to help out with his chaotic schedule. The rest is history.”

Noah laughed. “I’m guessing Max’s schedule is a nightmare?”

She gave him a knowing look. “You could say that.” She lowered her voice as though she was telling him a secret. “Max’s not the easiest guy to manage, but we get along just fine.”

Noah nodded, his curiosity piqued. “What’s it like... working with him? I mean, really working with him?”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost nostalgic, like she was remembering the past. “He’s a pain, honestly. He doesn’t listen half the time, and he thinks he can do whatever he wants. But that’s Max, right? He’s got this fire in him, this energy that doesn’t let anyone or anything hold him back. And... well, someone has to keep the wheels turning when the engine’s running at full speed. That’s where I come in.”

Noah couldn’t help but grin. “Seems like you’re the only one who can actually keep him in line.”

She gave him a small smile, her eyes sparkling with that quiet confidence. “I don’t keep him in line—I just know how to get him to do what’s necessary. There’s a big difference.”

The jet hummed steadily, and Noah leaned back in his seat, thinking about what she’d said. She was good. Too good at her job to be just another assistant. She was like the secret engine that kept Max running, and Noah didn’t think he’d ever fully understand why she chose to work with him, but he didn’t mind. She clearly had everything under control.

“So, do you like it?” Noah asked, after a beat of silence. “The job? I mean, it’s got to be crazy, right?”

She smiled at the question, looking thoughtful. “It’s a lot, yes. But it’s also rewarding. I’ve always loved a challenge, and Max... well, he’s a big one. But he’s also got a heart under all that arrogance. It’s just buried deep. You’d have to stick around long enough to see it for yourself.”

Noah stared at her for a moment, absorbing her words. He wasn’t sure if he believed she meant that, but it made him wonder about his dad in a way he hadn’t before. Maybe she was the one person who understood Max better than anyone. Better than he did, that’s for sure.

As the flight continued, the other drivers gathered in the back, talking racing tactics and joking among themselves. Max glanced over at Noah, giving him a quick nod before returning to his conversation with the others. But even from where he sat, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he felt... maybe a little bit more at home in this strange new world.

It wasn’t just about living up to the chaos or trying to impress his dad. It was about finding a balance between who he was and what this life could offer him. And maybe, just maybe, the one person who could make him see it clearly was sitting right in front of him, offering him coffee and a chance to truly know her story.

Race day had arrived, and the atmosphere was electric. The entire paddock was buzzing with energy as the team prepped for the race. Max’s PA was in the hospitality area, typing away at her laptop, responding to emails and making sure everything was in place for the post-race debrief. Her calm, focused demeanor was the eye of the storm, while around her, chaos seemed to swirl.

Noah had been lingering nearby, watching the action unfold. The race cars lined up, the drivers warming up in their suits, engineers giving last-minute adjustments. But Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still so much he didn’t understand. Formula 1 was more than just fast cars; it was strategy, timing, and a whole world he hadn’t fully cracked yet.

She noticed him staring into the pit, looking like he was trying to figure it all out, and her lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. She closed her laptop and pushed her chair back, standing up.

"Hey," she called over to him, "You look a little lost. Want to get some fresh air?"

Noah blinked, his gaze lifting to meet hers. "Sure. I mean, I could use a break."

She motioned toward the balcony, a quieter spot away from the noise of the paddock. "Come on. Let’s go up there. I'll teach you a few things about the race."

They made their way out, and as soon as they stepped onto the balcony, Noah took in the view of the circuit below. He hadn’t even noticed the race started. Or was this the formation lap? He was sure he read something about that. The track was alive, filled with motion, the cars zipping around as the tension built toward the start.

She leaned against the railing, her arms folded as she studied Noah. “So, how much do you know about all this? The strategy, the pit stops, all that?”

Noah shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “I know a decent amount. I mean, mum sometimes put on the race for me to shut me up, but I didn’t really get into the details. She wasn’t into it, and I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it.” He paused, then added with a bit of a sheepish grin, “So I know the basics, but it’s a lot more complicated than I thought.”

She nodded, a knowing look crossing her face. “Yeah, it’s a lot more than just fast cars and fuel. Let me give you the rundown.”

She began explaining the finer details of race strategy—the tire choices, how teams monitored fuel and tire degradation, the timing of pit stops, the importance of keeping track of the weather. As she talked, Noah found himself listening intently, his mind absorbing the information. She wasn’t just teaching him about the race; she was showing him how the puzzle pieces fit together.

“You’re getting it,” she said, smiling at him as he absorbed it all. “The strategy isn’t just about winning; it’s about staying ahead of the competition at every turn. A good driver can have the skill, but it’s the team that makes them successful.”

Noah nodded, feeling a new sense of respect for everything that went into a race. “I get it now. It’s more than just the guy behind the wheel.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

The sound of the race engines revving up brought them both back to the present. The cars were lining up, and she could feel the tension building as the race was about to begin. She turned toward Noah, her tone shifting slightly. “Alright, time to get back to work. Max has quite a few places to make up.”

They both turned toward the pit, and with a knowing glance, she led Noah back inside.

The race was intense, but as the laps ticked down, Max started to pull away from the pack. Noah could see it happening before anyone else—his dad was dominating, racing like the champion he was. It wasn’t just about the car; it was about Max’s relentless drive.

And then, it happened. Max crossed the finish line in first place, and the entire team erupted in celebration. Noah felt a strange mix of pride and awe. This was his dad—he was winning, and it was like nothing else mattered in that moment.

She was already moving, heading straight for the garage to make sure everything was set for the post-race celebrations. Noah followed behind her, curious but also wanting to see what happened next.

As they entered the garage, Noah couldn’t help but ask, “Why are we back here?”

She turned to him with a knowing smile. “Away from the cameras,” she said simply. “Sometimes the celebrations should be private.”

The doors opened just as Max walked in, his face flushed with triumph, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. Without a second thought, he crossed the space in long strides, pulling her into a tight hug.

Noah watched them, a small smile tugging at his lips as he saw the chemistry between them. It was impossible to ignore—the way Max’s arms wrapped around her, how she laughed softly in his arms, as though they had all the time in the world. It wasn’t just the physical connection between them, it was the way they fit together. They had this unspoken understanding, this quiet intimacy that Noah couldn’t deny.

For the first time, he felt like an outsider—just a kid who had stumbled into a world he didn’t fully understand, yet somehow found himself caught in the middle of something bigger than himself. Watching them together, he couldn't help but think they were cute—and it was a thought that made him feel oddly warm inside.

Max pulled away from her, looking down at Noah with a mischievous grin. “Atta boy, kid,” he said, pulling Noah into a hug. The older man’s arms enveloped him easily, and for a second, Noah felt the weight of everything—his confusion, his place in all of this, but also the new undeniable love for moments like this, moments he never had. 

It was rare, moments like these, where Noah felt like he truly belonged in this world, like he wasn’t just a spectator in anyone’s life. The hug felt like a reassurance, like Max was showing him, in his own way, that he was happy he was here.

As they pulled apart, Noah found himself grinning, the rush of the race and the moment of connection filling him with something he couldn’t quite name. But whatever it was, it felt real.

She stepped forward, brushing off a stray piece of hair from her face. “Good job, Max,” she said, her voice soft but proud. “You didn’t screw it up for once.”

Max shot her a playful look. “Who are you calling a screw-up?”

She winked at him. “You, it’s just not obvious because I pick up your slack Max Emilian.”

Noah looked between them, watching the playful banter, and for the first time since he’d arrived in Monaco, he felt like things were... right. Whatever this was between his dad and her, it was something real. And maybe, just maybe, it could be the foundation for something that could help him find his place in this chaotic world.

taglist: @linnygirl09 @mirrorball-6 @miyasuni

[girlgenius1111]

I want to be here.

part 3!!!

no warnings... i don't think.

You sat on your couch, staring at your phone resting on the coffee table. It was opened to your messages with Ona. You had barely texted in 6 years, only sending happy birthday's back and forth. Today, though, sat a message sent from you.

-Are you okay? I hope nothing we did made you uncomfortable. Not that you had to stay. I just want to make sure that you're okay.

It was marked delivered. There was no response. You'd only sent it an hour ago, and it was possible Ona had just gone home to sleep. But you didn't know when she'd left, how she got home. You were worried. And, as much as you wished you weren't, you were hurt. You felt... icky. Used. You knew Ona, and you knew she wouldn't just fuck you to get back at you, or just for fun. There was a small part of you, however, that felt like it would have made sense for her to do either of those things.

It's not like she could really have still feelings for you, if she ever did. She was Ona. The human embodiment of sunshine. A laugh that brought a smile to anyone who heard it's face. She was perfect, or as close as a person could get. And you were just... you. Nothing special. Nothing compared to her.

You pulled yourself out of the familiar spiral when your phone buzzed. You felt nauseous as you picked your phone up, Ona's caller ID flashing across the screen. Hand shaking slightly, you answered.

"Hello?" You tried to keep your voice level.

"Hey, I'm fine, I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed to get my head on straight." She didn't sound okay, she sounded like she'd been crying.

"No, it's okay. I was just worried, wanted to make sure you were safe." There was so much more you wanted to say, but you stuck to simple sentences, simple statements.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just kind of freaked out. Not because I felt pressured or anything, I just... got scared." You were relieved at that but still, she sounded slightly choked, like every word to you was a challenge. You could hear the murmur of someone else's voice next to her, but you couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, you needed to get off the phone. You were convinced she regretted it, regretted you, and the rejection that hadn't actually happened yet felt suffocating. "It's fine. I get it. I messed things up, and I shouldn't have let it go this far. I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

You tried to hang up, feeling a lump in your throat as you spoke, but Ona's frantic voice stopped you.

"No! Y/n, no. Please don't run again. I know that's insanely hypocritical considering what I did this morning, but please. Can we please just talk?" She sounded panicked, and you felt too guilty to tell her no. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing tears out of them, wondering how she still had you wrapped around her finger, so many years later.

"Okay. Do you want me to come over?"

"Um. I'm actually at Alexia's. Don't be mad, I told her what happened, I just needed advice. Can I come to you?"

That shouldn't have surprised you. It made sense. Alexia was the biggest pusher of team cohesion. If people had a problem with each other, she made them work it out. She clearly had told Ona to talk to you, to tell you that it was a mistake in person, so there wasn't any tension.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you soon." You hung up before she could respond, leaning back against the couch, trying to pull yourself together. You wiped the tears off your face harder than necessary, and took a couple deep breaths.

Ona was going to come over, and tell you that you guys made a mistake. That was it. There was no other option. And you had to be fine with it, because this was your fault. If you'd handled the situation differently when you were 18, maybe things would be different, but they weren't. There was no conceivable way that Ona would want you.

You must have sat thinking longer than you thought because suddenly the doorbell rang, and you jumped to your feet, masochistically excited to see Ona even if you were sure she was about to break your heart.

----

The 2 of you sat on opposite sides of your couch, silently. She'd been crying, you could tell, and she was wearing clothes that were obviously Alexia's. You ignored how good she looked even in a t-shirt and sweatpants that were too big on her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few pieces falling free. You were about to speak, to tell her it was alright, you knew what she was here to say, but she beat you to it. Her words surprised you.

"I was hoping maybe you could tell me what happened on my 18th birthday. After I kissed you." Her eyes met yours, and her gaze was curious.

"What makes you think something happened?" You hated how defensive you sounded, but this wasn't where you thought the conversation was heading and you didn't think you wanted to talk about this.

"Well you took off, moved out of your parents house a couple weeks later, and pretty much stopped speaking to me. You wouldn't do that without a reason." Her voice was gentle, as if you were fragile and you were so, so confused. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

"You didn't try to talk to me either, Ona." You said it more bitterly than you intended, and suddenly realized that you were kind of angry. Not really with her, but with yourself. For not allowing yourself to lean on her when everything happened with your parents. You hadn't realized, until that moment, how much you had needed her.

"I'm not proud of that." Your eyes snapped up to hers. "I was hurt, when you ran, but I shouldn't have kissed you. You weren't ready, you weren't comfortable with it yet, it was obvious. I pushed you too far, and I assumed you wanted space, and I was hurt, and then. I don't know. It had been too long."

You were really confused now. Baffled. It sounded like she was telling you that she knew you hadn't left because you didn't want her, but because you weren't ready. This whole time, she had understood you better than you'd really understood yourself. You felt tears welling in your eyes again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep everything in.

Ona scooted closer. "Y/n. Can you tell me what happened when you got home that night?" She knew. Of course she did. She had known your parents well, and they weren't shy about their beliefs. And she'd know that something catastrophic must have happened for you to move out at 18.

You couldn't look at her, staring at the coffee table, watching it get blurrier and blurrier as tears continued to gather. Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you spoke, but it still managed to break on every other word. "I told them. They weren't happy. They told me to leave when I turned 18." You stuck to the facts, the bare minimum.

You felt her grab your hand, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'm so sorry for all of it. I shouldn't have kissed you, and I shouldn't have just let you pull yourself away. I knew you felt bad about what happened, and I felt bad about what happened, and I didn't know how to fix it. You needed me, and I wasn't there, and I'm so, so sorry y/n.

The tears were really flowing now. Because how was she sitting her, apologizing. To you. For something that was completely your fault. You looked at her then, your eyes meeting hers. They were filled with apologies, regret. She was crying again, and you couldn't help yourself but reach a hand up and gently wipe a tear away with your thumb.

"Oni, you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have left. I loved you and I should have been brave enough to tell you that. And I definitely should have been brave enough to try to fix it after. I was a fucking coward, and you deserved so much better than that, than me."

"No." Her voice was suddenly harsh, and you jumped a little, startled. She softened slightly. "No. You were terrified, I could see it on your face. Please don't talk about yourself like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I always knew you had a tougher time with being gay than I did. You needed more time, and there is nothing wrong with that."

She said it so definitively, like it was a fact, not just what she felt. It was... almost convincing. Taking a deep breath, you tried to let her off the hook, still convinced she didn't want you.

"Well. I'm still sorry. I know I ruined us." She shook her head at that.

"You said you loved me. Past tense." Your eyes dropped again, suddenly interested in the tattoo on her arm. She kept talking, undeterred. "I hope it's not past tense. Because I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I never stopped. Alexia told me I needed to get my head out of my ass and just tell you, because she says it's obvious that you love me too."

You looked back up at her in shock for a couple seconds. You sounded broken when you spoke again, lower lip trembling. "I don't understand." And you didn't. You were genuinely perplexed at the idea that Ona loved you.

She moved closer to you, taking your face in between her hands gently, forcing you to meet her eyes. You'd never had someone look at you that way before; like she was consumed with love for you.

"I love you. I want you. I didn't leave because I didn't want you, I left because I was I didn't know how to tell you. I just want to be here, y/n. With you. I want tell you that I love you, that you're a good person, and you deserve good things, until you believe it. If you love me, if you want me. I want to be here." She spoke slowly, making sure you heard every word.

You were still surprised. Still kind of confused. A part of you was starting to believe her though. Her words, the way she looked at you, the gentle feel of her hands cradling your face. It didn't leave much room for doubt. She stared at you, and you realized she was waiting for an answer. As if you would say no.

Surging forward, you pressed your lips against hers, kissing her firmly. You pulled back after a second, and you told her what you'd been dying to say since you were a kid.

"I love you, Ona. So much." You were sobbing at this point, and she sighed in relief at your words, pulling you back into her. You smooshed your face into her neck, holding her tightly. She held you just as tightly. You let yourself feel it all then, and you cried into her for a while. She didn't ever let go, running her hands through your hair and whispering reassurances into your ear.

When you were done crying, she was still there. Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of Alexia's sweatshirt. Ona was looking at you so tenderly, so gently. You leaned forward, pressing another kiss to her lips, just because you could. She smiled against you, pulling you to lay down on top of her. You rested your chin on her chest, looking up at her.

"God we're so stupid." She laughed at that, and the sound made you grin, a bigger smile than you'd felt yourself have in a while.

"The stupidest. If we'd just had one conversation, we could have figured this out years ago." She was smiling down at you, still lightly pushing your hair out of your face. "Thank god Alexia convinced me to come back over here. She was so sure you loved me back, she practically dragged me into the car."

"I wonder how she knew," you mused.

"She says you look at me the way Mapi looks at Ingrid, Marta at Caroline. I knew what she meant, but I never saw it. Not until now." You blushed, realizing that you were staring at her, enamored. "She also said Mapi said something to her about you having feelings for me. I think they've been conspiring together."

Your jaw dropped at that, and you were suddenly sure that they had been. "Oh they absolutely have. We should tell them we aren't getting together just to drive them insane."

"Yes, and we aren't speaking to each other. They'll lose their minds. But first, I have something I need to do." She sat you up, and you looked at her, confused.

"What do you ha-" She cut you off, pulling your face into hers in a decisively dirtier way than you'd been kissing. You met her with equal enthusiasm, wrapping your hands around her body, pulling her sit in your lap. Pulling back after a minute, gasping for air, you responded.

"You're right, I think we're busy for the rest of the morning"

"Maybe the rest of the day"

She pulled you back into her, and you kissed her hungrily, taking your time, because neither of you were running this time.

-----

Hope you enjoyed :) not sure if we've seen the last of these 2, but let me know if there's anything specific you want to see.

[osachiyo]

haiiii chiyoooo :3

which of the bsd men do u think is the best at dirty talk - my mind leans towards fyozai but that’s only because im biased and i need them to whisper filth into my ear until im a puddle (simultaneously or not i’d die either way)

-🪽

𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 — heya nonnie ! this kinda turned into "which bsd characters are into dirty talk" instead of who's the best lol hope it's still to your liking !

i also think fyodor and dazai would be amazing at dirty talk — these two smartasses don't know how to shut up. though fyodor is a bit more on the quieter side — his words are harsh, mean and more degrading towards you in contrast to dazai. he likes to see the fat drops of tears running down your pretty face and ruining your makeup — it gives him a sense of power, in a sick and twisted way. he enjoys the thrill of thoroughly picking you apart before piecing you back together — it's a twisted game of his.

dazai, on the other hand, likes to whisper words of filth into your ear to watch you squirm. he loves watching you fiddle with your fingers as your face heats up at his crude words — the sight makes his cock twitch in his pants. gets him even harder if you talk even dirtier to him, how cute. either way, it ends up with you either on your knees, getting face-fucked by him, or his face between your thighs — eagerness dripping off of the pink muscle that swirls around your clit.

nikolai is another dirty talker — and he's filthy. if you thought dazai had no filter, he's somehow worse. nasty words effortlessly rolling off his tongue — words about how he couldn't wait to fuck you, take all of your holes until you're all but dripping with his cum before he cleans you up with his tongue — it's so dirty.

another one is chuuya — he's really into dirty talk. he's a fan of whispering lewd stuff into your ear to gauge out your reaction — especially if it's in front of other people. he almost groans when he sees you rubbing your thighs together, trying to relieve yourself of the arousal he's borderline torturing you with. your words come out stuttered and breathy, making the other person's (higuchi or tachihara) eyebrows furrow in concern and ask if you're okay — to which you can only let out an embarrassed nod, catching the way chuuya smirks from the corner of your eye. bastard.

of course, what kind of post would this be if jouno wasn't here? he's another one who enjoys spewing dirty words only you can hear in public. he especially does this when you've been talking too much to tetchou or tachihara for his liking. the most infuriating thing is that he says all that filth with a smile on his face — no one (especially someone as dense as tetchou) would even guess that he was whispering about how he wants to spread you on the table of the meeting room and fuck you silly in front of his boss and coworkers to see.

— sooo these are all the characters i could think of ! if you think i forgot about someone (which is most likely to happen) then don't hesitate to comment about it, id love to know <3

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Delta anon here again and I've got another headcanon for you:

Delta and Beta are very touch starved (as are all of the Epic Sanses, honestly), and absolutely love physical affection/attention, but don't necessarily know how to ask for it, much less how to ask for it without being embarrassed by showing vulnerability and admitting they need things.

(Beta's also probably not used to being allowed to ask for affection, due to our headcanon of him maybe being abused before he had fallen into the underground, so he was probably taught from a very young age that initiating affection wasn't allowed or okay to do, or that affection might turn into hurt.)

And since the Epic Sanses have all been friends for probably years, they most likely began to be able to pick up on Delta/Beta's cues on when they need something but don't want to ask. Said cues might be lingering around a bit too long, sudden physical touch or affection, randomly bringing up something relating to their need so they can see how their friends would react before they attempt asking. Stuff like that, probably.

(They test the waters like this, mostly because they're too embarrassed to ask for the attention/affection they need, because vulnerability is not a concept they're good with yet. Sure, they're vulnerable with their friends in some ways, but they'd rather die than ask for affection/attention straightforwardly.)

Color and Epic would also just eventually get used to Delta/Beta becoming more and more comfortable with them physically over the years. It still takes Delta and Beta a bit of time to feel comfortable asking, so instead of asking like a normal person, they settle for initiating - subtle nudges, leaning against/on them, stuff like that. And eventually once they got comfortable enough, they'd probably be fine with just silently cuddling right up to Color or Epic if they need the attention and aren't getting it.

Lucky for them, Color and Epic are patient and are able to understand what they need after a while. If they see Delta or Beta getting fidgety or trying to subtly initiate affection, they'll gladly reciprocate and offer affection.

(In my mind, it's sort of like how a cat wants attention but would rather die than be normal about it and ask for pets. It also might be how cats pretend to show disinterest, but in reality, they do want the attention.)

Thoughts?

I think this is a wonderful but also kind sad headcanon, although the thought of them getting better at initiating physical affection eventually makes me very happy.

It actually kinda reminds me of how I picture Killer and his cat-like ways. I usually view him (at least while in Stage 2) to have been so used to either being denied what he wanted or needed, or having those things held over him and used to control him, that he just started detaching from ever needing or wanting anything—which was only encouraged and reinforced. Really helps to convince someone that they’re an emotionless being if they believe they no longer have needs or wants.

So I always pictured that once he realizes that he actually needs something (id imagine itd be a lot harder for him to recognize or care about a want, if he’s internalized that what he wants doesn’t matter), he’s basically gonna do just about anything to get what he thinks he needs and to keep it. Manipulation, intimidation, blackmail, mind games, people pleasing and fawning.

Which is why I often think it’d take a long time for him to do things like express affection or ask for it openly if there’s no reason for it—those things are often tools for him, and he rarely wants affection for affection’s sake.

But when he does, he engineers reasons and situations and excuses for why someone has to touch him or why he has to touch someone else (this last one is often easy, considering he relies on physical touch for grounding, he can either use his rep as a disrespectful asshole who doesn’t care for others’ physical space to hide his grounding technique, or he can use his grounding technique with closer people such as Color as a justification for why he’s touching.

Or he may even do things like let Color hold his hand, with the justification of “keep him happy, and he’ll stay,” even though Killer wanted to hold hands too lmao.)

(making someone so mad they hit him, “accidentally” getting hurt or cutting himself so someone has to touch him to treat his wounds and they have to do it gently and carefully unless they want to hurt him. (which in the case of someone like Color, who claims so often that he doesn’t enjoy or want to hurt Killer, this type of situation also doubles as a test, a sort of landmine that Color has to be careful with.

Because although Stage 2 does enjoy pain (he would very likely enjoy being hurt by Color lmao), if he’s hurt in a “vulnerable” position by someone like Color, then he will just take it as proof of his fucked up worldview—and it’s likely that it could potentially have a ripple effect on to Stage 1, who does not enjoy being hurt.

Which must be so exhausting for Color, having to navigate what is and isn’t a test for him—and sometimes im sure color just sees right through him and calls him out on it.)

This also allows him to comfort of less vulnerability and a lot more control of these interactions—someone is only touching him because he made this situation where they have to, and they do not need to know that he wanted them to touch him. Which suggests a want, suggest an attachment, which—in his mind—can then be used against him if that person realizes the “power” they have over him.

Silly fella and his fucked up little world views on relationships and power dynamics.)

Which all in all, I’m sure helping and understanding Delta and Beta’s problems with asking or starting affection is more like a breath of fresh air. I’m sure this is mainly because, compared to Killer’s innate distrust for others, his control issues, his little tests and naturally manipulative ways, and the conflicting desires of his Stages, this is much more straight forward.

Color would likely take notice of Delta and Beta’s tells, notice even small things like their lingering, and would at least be able to tell that they want something—and can either ask directly (perhaps instead just asking them if he can have a hug, rather then having them ask for it), or just wait for them to feel ready to.

[mischiefmaker615]

Hearts and Bubbles

Rating: R

Summary: Happy Valentine’s Day!

You had forgotten how much people posted on social media when it came to Valentine’s Day, and each post you saw only reminded you more and more about the last conversation you had with your boyfriend before you had to spend the night at work. You were grateful for the barracks SHIELD had available but if it wasn’t for the backed-up paperwork, you would have found yourself in Loki’s arms in your own apartment doing a much better job at explaining what the particular holiday meant. Flashback~

“I mean.. its not exactly a holiday compared to thanksgiving or Christmas but a majority of the time, people still do something on it,’’ you explained as you zipped up your uniform with Loki leaning on the doorframe behind you, enjoying the show yet in deep thought. ‘’but darling, shouldn’t partners treat each other like that every day?’’ he questioned. ‘’yes but.. think of it as like thanksgiving, we should be grateful every day but focusing on the symbolic meaning of it in general kind of makes thinks feel official.. more like required where its harder to put off’’ you explain, not even knowing if that made sense to yourself as you grabbed your keys and bag and finally faced your boyfriend who had just been coming up at the same time and enveloped you in his arms. ‘’I could never put you off darling, Midgardian traditions are.. quite strange. Id dare to say then that I have spent every day since we’ve been together celebrating Valentine’s day.’’ He prided in himself and began kissing a trail from your jawline to your neck, making you bit your lip yet tilt your head to grant him more access. ‘’cant argue with that, but I guess society set up certain requirements to make things official, stereotypically getting the girlfriend-‘’ buzz you look down at your phone and saw an urgent text from Nat on how your presence was needed before Fury got even more closer to firing everyone in direct eyesight after the latest mission fail. Minor but still, that man could be a sensitive ticking time bomb. Looking up at Loki, you catch his lips in your own before stepping out of his arms ‘’I’ll have to explain better tomorrow when I get back, I love you and I’ll be home as soon as I can.’’ Present~ You shake your head to rid of the terrible explanation of Valentine’s Day and finally stand once the bus stopped. You clutched the card and container of Asgardian mead Thor managed to get you as you began walking towards your apartment. You hadn’t been able to explain what the stereotypical things to do on Valentine’s Day were, like flowers, a card and perhaps diner- stuff like that, but did manage to get Loki something. It could also pass as an apology to help lighten the sexual punishments Loki liked to bestow whenever you left him alone for to long, and considering how it was an overnight stay, you seriously prayed Thor helped pull through with this beverage. Your steps quickened the closer you got and finally opened your door only to stop at a dead halt. The lights were dimmed and instead were supported by the light of scattered candles all around the room. By the smell of it, at least two were scented and placed on either side f the living room to give the place a rose and lavender(?) smell. Your mouth nearly fell by the sight of it all as you stepped further inside, the door closing behind you as you set your things down on the chair closest to you and your eyes dropped to find a trail of rose petals leading down the hall before you. Your heart began to flutter, being reminded how this was your first Valentine’s Day with Loki and for him to go do all this made you want to find him all the more quickly. How did he- this was beyond what most people would do and as you passed the kitchen, could smell there was something delicious covered and cooling on the stove. Your eyes moved back to the hall as you walked down and opened the door that led to your bedroom and found your bed covered with rose petals and a bouquet of roses in the center. A card and a heart shaped box of what you assumed had to be chocolates sat on top of your pillow and your lip began to quiver by the sight of it all. Two hands came behind you and covered your eyes, making you jump out of surprise but immediately relaxed upon recognizing who it obviously was. ‘’now if I would have known you were going to cry, I wouldn’t have done this.’’ ‘’they’re tears of joy Loki’’ you laughed, knowing fully well he knew that and he let you turn around and you wrapped your arms around his neck. ‘’thank you so much!’’ you beam and he holds you close, feeling him take a relaxing breath now that you were both together again. ‘’I’ve missed you darling..’’ he breathed and you couldn’t help but giggle. ‘’its only been-‘’ ‘’to long darling. Next time I’ll have no choice but to spend the night over there as well just to be with you’’ he teased and leans down to capture your lips. Humming against his, you tangle your fingers in his hair and you feel like lean into your touch, biting your bottom lip as his hands travel slowly down to grasp your ass. Before things would lead to.. that, you lean back a little to look at him with a questioning look ‘’but.. how did you know to do all this?’’ ‘’you didn’t get a chance to finish on what your Midgardian traditions were so I attempted to look them up on the computer.. though I suppose I do need a bit more practice because the bloody thing wont cooperate’’ he sighed though you knew it probably was going to be something simple he wasn’t doing and he continued ‘’so.. I spoke to Thor on his observations upon being on this planet and went from there.’’ Your heart fluttered again as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself closer to him. the fact that he was willing to even speak to his brother- despite how he felt, you knew he wouldn’t have gone to any of the other members for help and go the extra mile to try to figure out all of this on his own just for you, made you want to cry tears of joy all over again. ‘’oh Loki.. no one has ever done this for me.. thank you’’ you cry and kiss him again where he wasted no time to return the affection and pulled you close, turning you both around so your back was against the now closed door so he could lean deeper into the kiss. ‘’and I’m the only one who will love’’ he promised and his lips and teeth found your vulnerable neck ‘’now I know you must be a bit tired but I have one more surprise for you..’’ he murmured against your skin and you tried to gather your concentration to register what he had said before he suddenly releases you. You almost whine from his lack of contact but he places a hand on the lower side of your back and nudges you to follow another trail of rose petals leading into your bathroom. as you follow, he trails behind you, his hands resting on your hips as you open the door and gasp. ‘’oh gods this is just what I need..’’ you sigh with contentment to find a bath drawn with more petals floating on the water, candles and by the smell of it, special oils in the water for healing. You go to take a step forward but Loki’s hands on your hips stop you for a brief moment before you feel his fingers curl at the base of your shirt and before you knew it, it was pulled up and off. You shivered ever so slightly at the change of temperature and smile with your eyes closed as your body began to relax. Loki tended to force you to do so anyway as he took the initiative to pamper you whenever he could so it was already on instinct not to fuss. Your back leaned against his chest as his hands ran over your sides and stomach, a low hum was heard from his throat as he enjoyed the feeling of your skin with his hands. As one pressed at your stomach to keep you pinned against him, his other hand ran behind you and skillfully unhooked your bra in one second. You lightly rotate your shoulders so the straps fell down your arms and to the floor and Loki waisted no time to grab your mounds in haste as if he’d been waiting to long for them. Your hands came to rest on each of his wrists as he massaged your breasts, your head falling back to his shoulder to feel his lips gently running along the crook of your neck. His finger tips paid extra special attention to your nipples as they harden from the slight chill and your arousal and Loki seemed to notice your slight shiver. His hands slowly left your chest and glided down your sides, coming to the front to grip your button and pulled down your zipper, taking his time on purpose to tease. Before you could take a breath to whine, he yanked them down, panties with it to the floor and you let out a squeak with his sudden motion. ‘’what’s wrong darling? I thought you liked my motions fast?’’ he smirked against your skin, nipping at your shoulder before he let you turn around to face him, eyes already dropping to scan you hungrily. ‘’rip my pants and you’ll have to buy me new ones my good sir’’ you giggle and he smirked, taking hold of your hand. ‘’then I best make sure to be gentle with my fair lady, at least to the parts that she wishes..’’ he said dramatically as he lead you towards the bathtub, eyes roaming as you catch him. ‘’my eyes are up here darling,’’ ‘’oh I do believe they are love, and what wonderful eyes they are’’ Loki cooed with his eyes flicking to yours ‘’but tell me, where are your own eyes?’’ he questioned and before you knew it, a flash of green and he was undressed before you. You tried not to prove him wrong but your eyes couldn’t help themselves and drank him in. you immediately felt wetness between your thighs, fighting the urge to close them as he ushed a hand with a triumphant smile. ‘’ladies first my love.’’ Taking his hand for support, you got yourself in and immediately felt your body relax in the warm water. Moving to one side, you kept a hold on his hand as he got himself in, smiling gently to see your face happy and his heart beat faster just to know he made you feel that way. Rather than laying back on his side, he moved himself to swaddle you instead, leaning forward and captured your lips in his own. You moaned in each other’s mouths, being filled with the smell of the bath, candles and tension, you couldn’t help but raise your hips to him and he happily obliged with your motions. As his tongue massaged yours, you felt his hips raise and lower against your own, his cock rubbing against your folds and you lightly bit your bottom lip to warn his teasing. Knowing you wouldn’t fall through with biting him hard, you kept rubbing against you, a hand holding himself up on the edge of the tub while the other hand alternated between breasts by squeezing and kneading. Your arms wrap around his neck as you quiver by your arousal, already ready for him as his motions alone build up the knot in your stomach. Running your fingers through his hair, you feel him lean into your touch and your lips move to the jawline that seemed to have been built by angels. Having quite enough of the wait, he moved his hand from your chest and aligned his cock at your entrance. You happily spread your legs for him as he slowly pushed in the tip and paused, closing his eyes as he seemed to shiver himself from the please as his head fell back with a steady breath. You took a deep breath as you already felt your pussy trying to pull him in and rested your hands at his shoulders to try to brace yourself. Not a moment longer, he slowly slid himself all the way to the hilt, deep and with a growl as you two seemed to fit perfectly like a glove. ‘’gods Y/N.. regardless of how many times.. you always seem so tight around my cock..’’ he breathed, his arm wrapping around you to pull you closer against him as he lowered himself as well against you. With a hand still latched t the edge of the tub, your hands ran along his back line and sculpted shoulder blades before your nails dug in when he thrust hard, having pulled back to the tip and then in again. He began bucking his hips, snapping into you as your own hand grabbed the edge of the tub to brace yourself while the other wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulder blade as he bucked. His motions were hard and fast, making your moans forced out of you as he seemed to always find a spot you didn’t think you had that sent you a wave of new pleasure. The knot seemed to tighten in your stomach and your back arched, your folds seeming to be throbbing with each thrust as he moved a hand to your clit. His fingers moved quickly in tight circles and you almost began to see stars. His thrusts became more desperate as you climbed your high with him and your pussy began to clench around him. ‘’gods- LOKI!!!-‘’ you scream his name as you tighten around him and he was close behind, cursing old Norse language as he came undone, watch splashing a bit over the sides as he thrust deep inside you and stilled, his grip holding you close as you both panted against each other. Once several seconds have passed, he slowly pulled out of you and you felt a bit of him spilling out. You leaned forward as he started to lean back against the tub on his side and lay up against him. his arm wrapping around your waist as he kissed your forehead and you smile in bliss. Looking up at him, you gently kiss his lips and he rested his other hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss before you lay your head just below his chin. ‘’happy Valentines day Loki’’ you breath and lace your fingers with his as he smiles down at you. ‘’happy Valentine’s Day Y/N… tell me, what other holidays do you Midgardians have?’’ he smirks.

[ghosttotheparty]

Dialogue prompts: 08.  “I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

hi sorry this took so long!!! i decided to do byler for this one bc i don't write them enough and i had another byler idea so i just thought id combine them <3 also on ao3

The air feels tense.

Everyone is downstairs, but it's like Mike can feel the way they're all holding their breaths too as they prepare.

Prepare feels like such a silly word. But he can't think of a better one. They're all packing their bags with first aid supplies. Nancy is making sure she has enough ammunition. Steve is putting more nails in his bat. (Some of them have bent over the years.)

Mike looks across the room at where Will is changing his shirt. His back is to Mike, and Mike watches his muscles shift under his skin as he pulls the fabric down over his head and shakes his hair out. It's gotten longer.

Will exhales shakily, pausing after fixing the shirt around his waist, and then he leans down to grab his shoes, looking back at Mike, whose cheeks flush with heat when their eyes meet.

"'S gonna be alright," Will says gently, and of course he wouldn't understand why Mike is looking at him.

"Yeah," Mike says, taking a deep breath, nodding, watching Will cross the room to sit on the bed next to him, bending over to put his shoes on. "I know."

It's quiet as Will ties his shoelaces and then reties them, tighter. He's always liked having his laces done up tightly, but Mike supposes it makes sense in this context, needing his laces in a knot that won't come undone. Will holds his feet out in front of himself when he's done, knocking his shoes together. Mike copies him.

They both look down, sitting side by side, listening to Dustin say something in the hallway. His voice is muffled and they can't understand him, but he doesn't seem to be talking to them, so it doesn't really matter. Their hands are almost touching where they're both holding the edge of the bed, their pinkies brushing as Will bumps his foot into Mike's, and Mike smiles.

It feels so stupid, getting butterflies at a time like this, but he can't help it. Will does it again, and Mike retaliates, knocking their shoes together harder, kicking him away. He suppresses a smile when Will snorts.

"You're so dramatic," Will says, but Mike can hear his smile.

"I've never been dramatic a day in my life."

"Oh my god, you liar--"

Mike elbows Will, and Will lets out a giggle (a giggle), trying to dodge it, but he's unsuccessful, and he just turns his body, laughing as he tries to catch Mike's arm as he tries to elbow him again.

"You're so annoying," Will laughs, trying to get him back, and Mike grins, knocking his arm away and reaching to jab him in the ribs. Will yelps, hunching over to block his midsection, but he just falls forward, into Mike, who catches him in his arms.

"You're annoying," Mike refutes, feeling the way Will shakes when he giggles again.

"How the fuck am I annoying?" he asks, and he's just leaning against Mike now, not even trying to pull away.

"You're so optimistic," Mike complains, but it just makes Will laugh again, and they shift, staying close, leaning against each other, Mike's arm around Will's shoulder. Will's hands are in his lap, his fingers tangled.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Will asks lightly, and it sounds like such a genuine question that Mike doesn't even know what to say. He guesses he's kind of right. They've all gotten through everything in the past few years with bumps and bruises and scars and nightmares, but they've still managed. Why won't they this time?

"So annoying," Mike says, and Will snorts. "I mean, seriously, I've never met anyone as annoying as you."

"Wow," Will says slowly, elbowing Mike's side, but neither of them pulls away. "You ever run into a mirror?" Mike's jaw drops, but he's grinning, and he drops his arm when Will reaches an arm up and tugs at his hair. "I guessed you haven't 'cause of this mess, but..."

"Wow," Mike says loudly, ignoring the way Will's fingers in his hair make his brain short-circuit a little. "Now you're just being mean, I was gonna say you're annoying 'cause you're so sweet."

"Sweet?" Will exclaims, his arm dropping, but it's resting on Mike's shoulder, his hand still touching the ends of his hair. "Since when am I sweet?"

"Since always, are you kidding me?"

"No?" They're both laughing. This is ridiculous. "I've never been sweet, oh my god--"

"What about when you gave that girl your toy because she was sad?" Mike says, running his hand over Will's back absentmindedly, over his spine and the folds in the fabric of his t-shirt. (That's actually Mike's t-shirt, but Mike is trying not to think about that.) "Or when I was sick that year and you brought me, like, a stack of drawings you did for me?"

Will rolls his eyes, playing with the ends of Mike's hair, his cheeks flushing pink.

"That was when we were little kids," he says dismissively. "That doesn't count."

"You're still sweet," Mike argues. "And it's annoying."

"My sweetness is annoying," Will repeats, suppressing a smile as he looks at Mike, and they're so close, sitting like this. Mike could count his eyelashes.

"Yeah, it's like you fucking glow with it." Will interrupts with a laugh. “I mean, I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

Will's eyes squeeze shut when he giggles again, turning his face away, His arm falls heavily on Mike's shoulder, and his fingers are still tangled in the ends of Mike's hair, and Mike thinks maybe Will doesn't actually hate his hair as much as he says he does. Mike runs his hands over his back again. He's warm through the fabric of the shirt, and Mike settles on what he said. Will is sunshine.

"You're so annoying," Will says after a moment, still smiling.

"You're annoying."

Will glares at him half-heartedly, but he's smiling a little, and Mike grins. And then Will's eyes flicker down to his mouth, and Mike is awfully aware of how quiet it is. He can almost hear their heartbeats. They're fast.

Will's fingers push into Mike's hair, and his hand is holding the back of his head gently like it's fragile, and Mike slides his hand up Will's back, skimming his face. (And it's a really nice fucking face. God.)

They're getting closer. Mike exhales when their noses brush together, and Will's eyes flutter shut, his fingers tangling with Mike's curls and tightening a little bit.

Mike tilts his head, nudging his chin up, and this is fucking happening, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--

Will moves closer, his other hand finding Mike's leg and holding on loosely, like he's scared of breaking him, of breaking the moment, and their lips brush, and Mike's eyes sting.

But neither of them has to worry about breaking the moment, because Mike's door bursts open, and Dustin sticks his head in as they jump apart.

"Hey, we're ready to go," Dustin says breathlessly, apparently not noticing anything out of the ordinary. He's wearing a black bandana on his head. "You guys ready?"

"Uh, yeah," Will says weakly, pulling his hand away from Mike's lap as his arm falls from his shoulder hesitantly, and Mike realizes how close they are, but he doesn't pull his arm away from where it's resting around Will's lower back. "We'll be right there."

Dustin nods. He leaves the door open when he goes back downstairs.

Will sighs, and he falls forward so his forehead is on Mike's shoulder. He puts his hands back in his lap, pausing there for a moment. Mike runs his hand up his back again, holding him close for a moment.

And then Will lifts his head, taking another breath.

"We'll be fine," he says lightly. Too lightly.

"Optimism," Mike says dryly, raising an eyebrow. Will cracks a smile, softening.

They sit together in Argyle's van, side by side across from Lucas, who's facing the ceiling, his eyes closed, and El. Mike glances at Will. He's got his head down, his eyes closed, and he's taking deep, measured breaths. Mike's chest aches as he listens to them, and he looks ahead again, meeting El's eye. She gestures toward Will with an unreadable expression, but Mike gets it.

He reaches over hesitantly before he sets his hand on Will's leg, touching him lightly just above his knee. Will doesn't react, and Mike runs his thumb back and forth gently, watching Will carefully in case he hates it.

Will's eyes flutter open, landing on Mike's hand on his leg, and he exhales shakily before he reaches for it. His hand is shaking a little as he slides his palm over the top of Mike's hand before he entwines their fingers, and his hand is so warm it's ridiculous. Will takes another breath, letting his head fall back against the wall of the van. They hit a bump, and it jostles them, and Will's hand tightens on Mike's.

Mike sighs, running his thumb over Will's skin gently, relaxing against the wall, and El catches his eye again. She nods, smiling softly.

Everyone is quiet as they exit the van, as they all line up to go through the gate. Steve helps them all through, holding their hands and arms tightly to support them.

They all seem hesitant to separate into their groups. Mike feels sick, watching Will turn to join Steve and Robin, almost panicked as his stomach twists and turns, as the thunder rumbling turns to white noise, and as he watches them all step away, he can't stop himself before

"Will."

They all turn back, which wasn't Mike's intention, but he doesn't really care when their eyes meet, because Will looks fucking desperate, like he's about to burst into tears, and Mike's whole body hurts. It's quiet as they look at each other, as Will's eyes glisten, and then Mike is moving forward, going down the steps two at a time, and he's kissing him.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go.

But his hand is holding Will's cheek, and Will's arms wrap around his waist tightly, and their lips press so hard it kind of hurts, but Mike doesn't fucking care. He also doesn't fucking care that literally everyone is seeing this, and El is the only one who even knows he likes Will, and Jesus fuck, what the hell is he doing--

But Will's hands grasp at his jacket, holding him close, and after a moment Will tilts his head, and the kiss softens, and maybe everything has actually been worth it.

They both gasp when they part, and Mike holds Will's head in his hands, his fingers pressing into his hair gently as their foreheads press. A tear slips down Will's cheek as his eyes close, and Mike wipes it away.

"Optimism," he whispers. "Right?"

Will's hands tighten on Mike's jacket, and he takes a shaky breath, nodding, and then he lifts his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Mike's lips.

And Mike has never wanted to survive anything more as they separate and part ways.

[scarlettjade420]

It's a world where many people have powers. while it may not be the majority, it's certainly not uncommon. about 40% of the population has some kind of ability around the entirety of the world. One would think life to be easier for these individuals, however that's not at all the case for most. These people are viewed as dangerous by the majority of the population. often separated from the rest. however, the government has (kind of) worked on making this separation equal. they may go to a separate school, but it's required to be equally funded or else shut down. they can go to the same food places, but are usually only allowed on on side that may be slower run. you get the idea. However no amount of laws or regulations will stop people with powers or abilities from having a harder life. who don't. especially for those born into a family who does not hove these powers. ~~~~~~~~~ bam! bam! bam! "Onyx! get out here or you'll be late for freak school!" i hear my mom scream from outside the door. unknowingly to her, I'd been up for an hour already. "'freak school?' how childish of an insult..what ever" i mutter to myself. i pull myself up, already haven gotten dressed, and i start to brush my hair and finish getting ready for a day of hell. i mean school. hm..my dark roots are coming in..i need to redye my hair. making my way out to the kitchen, i grab my mug and pour myself a cup of coffee. as i stand in the kitchen for a moment, leaning over the counter, i hear my sibling come in. They jump up to sit on the counter facing towards me. something i would have been metaphorically murdered for doing. They help their sketch book and pencil in their hand, and already i knew what it was they needed. "Onyx, what does a flame look like? Boogle sucks at giving me good reference images!" i chuckle slightly and think a moment, trying to listen for the nearest and loudest sound at the moment. i focus on the sound of the old coffee pot struggling, going 'i think i can i think i can i think i can' to try and make the last cup of coffee for this pot. that of course will be drunk up within minutes. i focus on the sound and begin to bend it to create an image in the air in front of me and my Sibling. as a flickering unstable image dances in front of them, Kai's face grows and smiles. their face soon changes to concentration as they start sketches on their paper, looking at my flickering illusion for reference. "sorry it's not more stable. the howling coffee pot isn't usually the most ideal sound to use" i state as they erase a few lines. "it's ok!" they look around to check who of the family is in earshot. "i still think it's so cool that you're able to do that at all..even with dad's dyeing coffee pot" they say with a little above a wispier, knowing they'd be scolded by our parents if they heard them say that. i smile and nod a thank you, and wait for them to finish their drawing before i wipe away the image from in front of us. Soon i must finish getting ready. i grab my backpack and go down a mental check list to make sure i have everything. books, laptop, pens, pencils, paper, notebooks, chargers, ect. once I've got everything i grab my lanyard with my keys and ID card on it, and grab my phone before making my way out the front door. "don't forget to step in front of a buss on your way back!" i hear from my older brother as i close the door. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ defiantly gonna continue writing this, maybe even get to a full story. but for now, here is this. pt.1?

[dbssh]

how would u make her look? like if u got to redesign her

so basically my biggest gripes are that she is so skinny waist and i find her outfit design really busy and also very lame. if i was going to redesign her but stick to the same general vibe as we have now i would simplify and yuckify her. i want her to be grimy ykwim. i would also want to make that outfit less bad to look at and i personally would love if she had like a crown of some sort and the wrestlers champion belt instead of. whatever those tassles are supposed to be. also scars and tattoos. also take the fucking makeup off my girl dont need winged eyeliner she is in the wastes. i can take or leave the facepaint i wish it looked better. also i think junkertown generally has grimier yellows and oranges so i would want that to be the main bulk of her color scheme with the blue as an accent. i would take away those heels and give her some slay demonias because i hate her skinny calves and tiny boots that is so not punk rock.

a mediocre diagram ^ BUT if i were building her more from scratch i would lean harder into the queen stuff. id like to take inspiration from like. cartoon kings as well as roller derby + wrestlers. fuckoff huge crown and like a grimy torn up version of that velvet cape and a lot of gold jewlery, but its all kind of scrapped together and none of it really matches or is Nice anymore and shes dirty and also has some tattoos or something idk.

as it stands now most of my gripes feel very small and like. stuff that was good in concept but the execution and the combination made it all add up to be incredibly bland, busy, ugly, and unmemorable which is a shame because i feel like she could be so much fun and i really would like her if she was just a little to the left of what she is. i also believe she wouldve looked better if theyd designed her as a man because so much of my beef comes down to Woman In Overwatch syndrome which is a SHAME. she couldve been great.

ALSO as a final note my favourite skin for her is wastelander, i still dont love it and her models body is a huge part of that but i do consider it a massive improvement simply because it feels so much less busy to me. i hate those stupid things she usually has on her belt over the crotch area so them not being there + those horribly ugly tights and shitty tshirt being gone + these colors is much better imo

[rafescoke]

Need To Know (Part 2) ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 2 

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: More angst, more flashback smut, substance, swearing, Rafe being a dick again

A/N: Thank you so much for the overwhelming love from my last post! I love you to the moon and back <3

p.s, my request box is always open for you to drop in any ideas!

“My god, you both look great.”

Rafe chuckled, too drunk to say anything, and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend of 4 months. The night breeze flew past everyone on the yacht as they strolled down the stream, moving their hips along to ‘Summer’ by Calvin Harris and trying to hear each other’s conversations over the loud music.

“Thanks, Tops,” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her body moving to the beat. She thought about the amount of drinks she had, but giggled when she had to recount again, and then frowned when she kept forgetting the number she ended on.

“What are you thinking?” Rafe whined, pulling her away from Topper who had his arms around another girl, trying to move on from his failed relationship with Sarah Cameron. He had told Rafe and (Y/N) that he have never felt better, but they both know the truth. He was completely wrecked after the breakup; when Topper found out about Sarah and a certain boy from the other side of the island, Rafe had to be there for him every single night until recently. He was too afraid of the things that Topper would do to himself.

“I can’t remember how many drinks I’ve had tonight,” she cried, tugging on his shirt as she placed her chin on his shoulder. Rafe laughed, patting her back before pulling her to face him.

“You had 8 shots. I had more.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, raising her brows. When she saw a smile slowly creeping onto his face, she groaned loudly.

“You always do this to me!” She grunted, but a tone of humor laced in her face. “God, I hate you.” She made a move to talk away, crossing her arms.

“No-” he shook his head, pulling her arm so that she will end right back into his arms again. He grinned when his tactic worked, “You don’t hate me. You love me too much.”

“Disgusting,” (Y/N) made a face, and stood on her toes to whisper into his ear. “Wanna do something?”

Rafe looked at her, and when he saw the sly smile etched onto her face, he kissed her fully on her lips, always admiring this side of her that she rarely shows to other people.

When he first found out about this opposite side of his girlfriend, Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes. He tried to convince himself that when she had asked to do coke with him for the first time that night, it was merely his imagination and not reality, but when she woke up next to him the next morning, the sun highlighting her hair and eyes, smiling shyly at him, he knew that it had, indeed, happened.

“You want to do coke?” he asked, forcing himself to keep his grin concealed. “Right now? In the middle of the party?”

(Y/N) hummed in response, and kissed his cheeks. “Please?”

Rafe didn’t answer her as he pulled her through the many dancing bodies to one of the back rooms in the yacht, trying to contain his excitement. The last time they had done this together ended up being one of the best nights of Rafe’s life, and he hoped to relive it again.

Rafe poured the intoxicating powder on the cold table, licking his pink lips as he separated them into four lines using his driver’s license. (Y/N) saw a glimpse of his handsome ID photo on the card, and tried to stop herself from kissing him. 

How could someone look so handsome in their driver’s license? It’s impossible.

(Y/N) licked the side of his face as he tried to balance the lines evenly, not able to contain her feelings anymore. She felt like having him for the rest of her life, and she can’t imagine spending her future with anyone else. 

“What was that for?” Rafe groaned, but he was smiling. (Y/N) wiped the already- drying wet mark on the side of his face with her sleeve, only to be stopped by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist.

“I didn’t say you could wipe it.”

(Y/N) giggled, kissing his cheeks as he returned back to his previous work. She wondered again on the never ending questions of why would Rafe choose her amongst the many girls who have tried to get his attention since forever, but her thought was disturbed by the sudden swift of Rafe’s lips against hers.

“Ladies first,” he whispered, handing her a rolled up hundred dollars bill. (Y/N) smiled, putting a light pressure on her left nostril using her pointer before dipping her head to inhale the substance.

She threw her head back, laughing when she could feel Rafe’s soft lips peppering wet kisses along her exposed neck. She closed her eyes against the warm feeling, her fingers running through his messy hair.

“Your turn, baby,” she giggled, stopping her boyfriend before they could provide a free show for everyone else. Rafe sighed, clearly unsatisfied, but he took the rolled up bill from her fingers and dipped his head.

Before he could inhale the white powder, he turned to look at her, a glinting mischief in his eyes. (Y/N) groaned, wanting to spend her hazy trip with her boyfriend instead of going ahead of him.

“What is it?”

“Lay on your back,” he said, not looking at her as he took out the extra mini ziplock bags. (Y/N) looked at him with a frustrated expression. “I swear to god, (Y/N), just fucking do it.”

(Y/N) sighed and laid her back against the sofa, trying to hold her skirt from lifting up and exposing her black thong she had bought beforehand. She widened her eyes when she felt Rafe’s cold rings grazing her skin, closing her eyes when she felt his hands slowly creeping towards her aching core.

“What are you doing?” She hissed, closing her legs quickly. “Rafe, we can’t do anything here.”

“Relax,” he whispered, pulling her legs apart again, and (Y/N) almost moaned from the sudden cold breeze nipping on her skin. She gripped on his wrist again, trying to remind and warn him about his next move at the same time.

Just by the glare that Rafe had given her, signaling that he wasn’t playing and he hadn’t got the time to joke around, she let go of his wrist, looking up to her boyfriend who was unlocking the mini bag.

She hissed when Rafe poured a perfect amount of cocaine on her lap, enough for him to get on by the night. She watched as he separated them into lines using his driver’s license again. She gulped, her heartbeat getting quicker.

“Stop moving so much,” Rafe grunted, focusing on perfecting the lines against her soft skin. After a few seconds of trying his best, he looked back to admire his work, licking his teeth.

“Oh my god, Rafe, you can’t be-”

“Shut up,” he said, taking the rolled up bill and dipping his head until he was on the same level as her head. She bit her lips, nervous. She threw her head back when Rafe inhaled a line, her heartbeat beating quicker than that time she tried to hide herself in Rafe’s closet from Rose. 

She could feel his fingers gripping her thighs, and she couldn’t deny the growing feeling inside her. Rafe chuckled, wiping his nose, and dipped his head back to the previous position.

“Rafe. . .” she whined, trying her best not to move around so much. The grip around her legs tightened, and she gritted her teeth as he placed wet kisses along her leg, ending directly before her desperate core.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, closing her eyes.

(Y/N) has experienced nothing of that sort, and the farthest thing they have done was fucking each other in Rafe’s hot tub that one drunken night. The last time she did coke with her boyfriend, no body parts were involved and it was only the two of them and her grandmother’s glass table.

Rafe chuckled, rubbing his nose as he resurfaced from his second last line, holding the rolled up bill between his fingers like a cigarette. “You like that, huh?”

“I’ve never wanted you to fuck me so bad before,” she said, groaning as she tried to keep her legs still for Rafe to inhale that one last line, but she knew he wouldn’t make her life that easy.

She watched as he kissed the inner of her thighs, going upwards, placing more kisses on her hips and again, directly halting before her core. Rafe could see the wet mark on her thongs, and could feel himself getting harder. 

“Please,” she begged, looking at him with her innocent eyes, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Please, Rafe, baby, please.”

“As you wish, princess.”

She went into another unexplainable feeling as he did his final line, and then  giving her more wet kisses along her thighs and lastly, that resulted her into jerking her body upwards towards his chest; he placed a strong kiss on her clothed core. 

Rafe laughed, watching her pressed herself against him, trying to find any kind of friction. “Relax, baby. I thought you wanted me to stop?”

“Fuck you,” she whispered, before climbing onto his lap and attacking him with kisses. 

“Okay-” he said in between kisses, “Fine-” more kisses, “Fuck me.”

(Y/N) groaned, feeling his hard member all pushed up against her as she kept on attacking him with kisses. This is exactly the problem; he would tease her and she would just not stop. 

“People are watching, baby,” he whispered, stopping her fingers from unzipping his jeans. They were both breathing really hard, and (Y/N) leaned closer to his ear.

“Let them.”

He groaned as she finally unzipped his pants, exposing his throbbing penis against the night air of North Carolina. He tried to pull his and (Y/N)’s body downwards by an inch to hide their ungodly behaviour behind the table, but was caught off guard when (Y/N) gripped his fingers, halting his movement.

“I said let them watch.”

Rafe wasn’t sure if it was the drugs that took over her or it was just another side of her that she was finally exposing to him, but he couldn’t deny the excitement coursing through his veins. This was every teenage boy’s wet dreams, and Rafe couldn’t believe the fact that he was finally experiencing it.

Before he could prepare himself, he felt her sink into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his as she panted to reach her end. Rafe held her waist, not putting any pressure and letting her take control completely. He watched as she bit her lips, placing quick kisses against his neck.

“I love you, oh my god,” she said as she pushed herself down onto him, closing her eyes to concentrate on the familiar feeling growing in her stomach. “My perfect boy.”

“I’m close,” he shuddered, this time thrusting his hips against her to quicken the pace, feeling his end reaching. He didn’t care about the crowd that was starting to form near them; he was happy and content with the girl who was a moaning mess on top of him.

“Fuck-” she screamed as he released himself into her, falling against his chest to catch her breath. Rafe placed a lazy kiss against the top of her head as she grunted, too tired to even remove herself. 

“I wanna do coke with you every single night,” she whispered involuntarily as Rafe pulled her up, finally finding the strength to do so. He fixed her dress for her as she rested her head against the sofa, feeling so close to doze off for the night. Rafe smiled, tucking a strand of her hair before buttoning his jeans back again. He kissed her cheeks as she sighed, intertwining their fingers. 

“I’ll always love you, okay?” he said, but she was too tired to say anything back. She whispered something back, and Rafe laughed in return, and the night continued with her head against his chest as they snuggled up close on the sunbathing area. When the clock struck 12, they watched the fireworks decorating the night sky, and Rafe swore he had never seen anything more beautiful than (Y/N) under that glowing sky that particular night.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Rafe whispered, before placing a longing kiss on her lips.

(Y/N) woke up with a start.

She heard noises coming from her window, and she groaned before making her way towards the light. Her feet tapped lightly against her carpeted floor, feeling the cold temperature coming from outside.

Great. Just the person she wanted to see.

“Let me in, baby, please,” Rafe said against her window, fogging her glass. “Please? Let me explain myself.”

(Y/N) held her middle finger up to him before returning to her bed, watching the panicking boy from the corners of her eyes.

How could he climb up to her room after all the things he did to her?

“Oh my god-” she heard him speak, “It’s cold out here. Please? Let me in.” 

(Y/N) tried to block out his voice as she placed her pillows against her ears, but when she kept hearing his pleads, she couldn’t shake the bad feeling in her heart. She stood up from her bed, watching Rafe struggling to hold on to a branch, and opened the window, all while silently cursing to herself.

Rafe quickly shut the windows and sighed as he got used to the warm atmosphere, his eyes following the girl as she returned back towards her bed. Rafe stayed shut, following her actions, and sat beside her limp body.

“I’m-”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she cut him off, and Rafe watched as she shifted to get comfortable. She wasn’t looking at him, and Rafe felt a pang of pain across his heart.

“Please, baby, you deserve an explanation.”

(Y/N) stayed quiet, and Rafe took the silence as an agreement. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, trying to find his voice; because this is exactly the problem -

He didn’t know how much more (Y/N) had heard from his ex’s mouth, but based on the quick summary that she had given him through the phone call an hour ago, everything that she told him was true.

Because he was stupid. He was selfish, and he didn’t believe in the idea of falling in love with some and making great memories with them. Life simply wasn’t that way to him - 

All he cared about was sex and drugs, and his ex filled that exact cravings in him. He grew attached, but (Y/N) had taught him love. She taught him all the things that he didn’t know existed in him before.

“It’s true,” was all he said.

He grimaced as (Y/N) let out a shrill laugh, and stayed shut right after. He felt the need to caress her but decided against it, knowing that she will probably push him off.

“And I’m sorry. I was stupid, okay? I didn’t mean any of that. God, I wish I can turn back time and did everything differently because god, I was so fucking stupid and I hate seeing you cry because of me.”

Rafe could feel his own tears crashing down. The last time he had cried this hard was when Ward yelled at him, saying how useless he is and that he will never be proud of him, but (Y/N) was there for him during that time to calm him down. 

Now he’s alone.

“God, (Y/N), you give me love and you’ve taught me how to love and- and, I can’t let you go now, oh my god, I can’t-” he took a deep breath, “Not when I love you too much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, and Rafe felt like killing himself at the sound of her voice in pain. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” She repeated, louder this time.

“I was scared,” he whispered back. “I wish I can take your pain away.”

“Rafe-” she sat up, her eyes puffy and red from the never ending tears since she fled the party. She looked at the boy she loves, and felt a sudden wave of emotion for the thing she was about to say.

“Can we stop seeing each other for a while? Can we take a break?”

“What?” Rafe shook his head, his fingers trembling. “No. No. You are not hearing yourself. No.”

“Rafe, please,” she cried, gripping onto her bedsheet. “Give me time to think. I can’t think about all this, just let me breathe!”

“You can’t let me go, (Y/N),” he whispered, trying to connect their fingers like always. When he saw her slipping her hand into her covers, he let out a breath.

“It’s too cold for you to go home. You can sleep in here, with me.”

“Don’t do this to me,” he said again, getting closer. When she flinched, he used all of his energy not to let out a yell, knowing that it would cause her to leave him for good.

“Just give me time. To think. Okay?”

“I love you,” he whispered, “I’ll wait. However long it’s going to take, I’ll wait.”

She didn’t return his affection and Rafe waited a few more seconds for her to mutter the words back. He took a deep breath before standing up, limping towards her window again.

“Rafe, you can stay here. Don’t make this any harder for me.”

But he left anyway, and (Y/N) was frozen in her position as she stared at his previous space on her bed, his scent slowly evaporating into the air. She couldn’t believe it; she lost him. She lost every inch of him, the only boy she truly loves.

She cried again against her pillows, missing her boy.

#Part 3

-

add yourself to the taglist!

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Have you finished Interview with the Vampire yet? What did you think? I just finished the finale and I’m still figuring out what I think about it.

I have! I think I'm....... also figuring out what I think about it.

To me, its framing feels quite moralistic, in a way that's grating to me. There are many ways it appeals to my id, but I think the show is determined to undercut that appeal, and wag the finger at the viewer for being compelled by the concepts and dynamics at play. The domestic violence angle, as I've said before, really didn't work for me - it felt like channeling the elevated, campy absurdity of Lestat through a register that doesn't suit the story. I saw someone say that they loved the fact that even though they were supernatural creatures, the interpersonal violence between the three of them was grounded in realism, rather than being at a remove, and honestly, I didn't. I hated that. The nature relationships between them are already somewhat divorced from reality - this is even touched on with the shifts in Claudia's status in that household - so the fact that they felt the need to lean into how the Louistat dynamic would function if it were a real relationship felt distasteful and patronizing to me. The overwhelming need for control and possession of another person due the paralyzing fear of loneliness, and the irresistible bending of one's thoughts and desires towards one person, even though they're evil, are both incredibly hot dynamics for me. But grounding those in the context of a real life abusive relationship, rather than a gothic romance, dulls that shine, and makes it harder for me to appreciate the more fanservice-y moments.

(I have some sort of argument here about how the writing in this show, coupled with some popular reactions to Dracula in the Dracula Daily fandom, reflect a cultural backlash against dark and violent eroticism and fantasy - not sure I'm phrasing that right, but it's definitely a trend I'm noticing, and that I don't like.)

I think there's plenty of room for ambivalence about vampirism - it is a trade-off! And a very lonely way of being! I'm fascinated by the vampire as being, in several respects, cut off from human life and connection (as well as the challenges of empathy when dealing with a being who's potentially sympathetic but also a bloodthirsty killer). But.... hmmm. This is certainly present in the source material, so I can't blame the show entirely for this. But I find the emphasis on murder, and being morally opposed to murder, to be a pretty boring tack to take with all this. Like, we know murder is bad. Agonizing over the ethics of killing people just makes me frustrated and impatient, rather than sympathetic. Angst of a much more selfish nature, like the impossibility of forming relationships and finding community, is much more compelling to me, and has much more of an interesting allegorical applicability for me. (This is probably why Lestat's selfishness landed much more for me, lol.)

And they were kind of getting at that with Louis and the queer analogy - the way he can't go back to his family, the way he's on the fringes of society, etc. But for me at least, that wasn't carried through with the potential it had, because there was so much more emphasis placed on the murder aspect, and on how grotesque Lestat's reveling in it was. When for me, the most appealing moments of the show were Lestat's gratuitous acts of violence. That scene in the finale of him draining that guy's blood into a wine glass while mocking his book was soooo fun.

And that brings me to Claudia, because I don't like the shift in her motivation in killing Lestat. I like the idea of it being a somewhat petty decision! Here, it's not based in spite over him turning her into a vampire, but rather Lestat's abusive treatment of both of them, which makes her seem much more righteous. It's too neat.

Claudia in general makes me a bit uncomfortable, which is unfortunate, because she really is an objectively interesting character, and the actress playing her is great. But there were a lot of aspects of her narrative that I found squicky, though to be fair, those are also not unique to the show. I'm thinking specifically of the emphasis in multiple texts on her body not maturing, rather than on the loss of adult identity and autonomy, which I just personally don't like. But her speech about how she could have had a husband and kids by now just felt, more objectively speaking, like a poor writing decision - there are so many reasons she'd be upset about not growing up, and centering it on never getting to be a wife and mother just seems stupid and sexist.

I didn't care for the thing with her dead boyfriend either, especially because the bit in the film so much of her fixations are with women, and wanting to look like them, and killing them because she can't become them - especially with a somewhat aged-up Claudia, there could have been much more queer potential to her character. Missed opportunity.

I also didn't like that they changed Louis being the one to kill Claudia. Both because I think it softens Louis' character a bit too much, and because it removes the interesting queer reproduction aspect of them both contributing to her vampirism ("I took your life, he gave you a new one"). Louis being able to read her thoughts, and Lestat being cut off from that dynamic, was an interesting result of this change, especially with both of them being Black. But again, this wasn't really explored symbolically to the degree that I thought it could have been.

Rashid-as-Armand... I'd seen the theorizing, but I was really hoping it wouldn't happen lol. Both because I really dug the D/s dynamic they had going on and Louis' dom vibes and didn't want it to be a bit, and also because I was interested in the concept of Rashid being not a vampire or a mortal but a secret third thing. And the method of the reveal was a bit silly.

Also, the writing was just straight-up bad and corny in a lot of places. That scene with Louis and Claudia on the boat where she asks "how does love work between two men" and he says "it works like love"... jesus, I can't even type that without feeling intense secondhand embarrassment. So much of it is grossly overwritten - I'm thinking of Louis' "a lie I told myself about myself" line in the first episode. It has no subtlety whatsoever, and not enough in a fun campy way, just in a "they think the audience is made up of idiots who don't understand themes and narratives" way.

(Another example - Louis saying "I'm a vampire" at the end of that one episode was quite silly. It would have been far more intelligent writing for him to say "I'm the devil", but "I'm a vampire" just sounds silly and makes it sound like he's coming out as a vampire. XD)

I also just hate the treatment of the women. What happened to Lily fully sucked, and the dehumanization of Antoinette was quite distressing. (It's possible she'll be only mostly dead, like Lestat, but.... I'm not optimistic at this point.) So many of the women just seem to be props in the story.

I think the last complaint I have (for now) is the way Louis' POV is dealt with. The "unreliable narrator" tactic is often never used to my satisfaction in media - especially visual media - and I didn't feel as if that element of the story was borne out the way I wanted it to be. (Though hopefully that'll be unpacked more in later seasons.)

Things I liked - I loved the horniness of the Louistat dynamic in the first few episodes. Louis saying "maybe we were put on this earth for a higher purpose" and Lestat saying "I put you on this earth. Your purpose is to enjoy yourself" was sooo hot, jesus. Louis' character backstory was great, and the race commentary added an interesting dimension to a very tone-deaf aspect of the original story. The fucked up hypocritical poly negotiation was a lot of fun. Daniel and Louis' dynamic in the present day as well. Even though I didn't love every aspect of Claudia, her actress was great to watch, especially in the chess scene where she's plotting to kill Lestat. I am curious to see where the show is going, and it's an enjoyable watch. But I do have a lot of quibbles, and generally feel talked down to in quite a few respects.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me. 

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface. 

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.” 

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back. 

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site. 

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform. 

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them. 

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store. 

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head. 

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came. 

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

[narutogwriting]

18

⋇✦ Pairing: Shikamaru x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: smut; NSFW; oneshot

⋇✦ Synopsis: You just turned eighteen and are rebelling against your dad and his new wife. Good thing Shikamaru finds you before some douche can take advantage of you

⋇✦ CW: DARK CONTENT!! NSFW; statutory mention; mean shikamaru; dirty talk; anal mention; slight dacryphilia; cheating mention; anal mentions drugs?

⋇✦ Length: 2.3k+

⋇✦ Inspiration: 18 by Anarbor

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” Shikamaru praised as he shoved your head further down on his length, hissing in pleasure as you gagged around him. He had your hair bunched up in a makeshift ponytail in one of his hands, using it to work you back and forth on his cock. In his other hand, he held a cigarette between his fingers. Holding you down, your nose nuzzled in the trimmed pubes at his base, Shikamaru took a long drag. He yanked you off of him, causing you to cough and splutter as your lungs sucked in greedy gulps of air.

It didn’t last long before Shikamaru was bending over, blowing his smoke into your face. You inhaled in straight, coughing as it burned your throat.

Shikamaru only snickered as you blinked up at him through bleary eyes. “Don’t cry, baby. I help you out, you help me out, remember?”

You did remember. Part of you was starting to wonder if it was all worth it, but you shook the thought away as you licked at the head of his shaft again. A sharp tug of your hair made you yelp. “What are you, a kitten?” Shikamaru jeered. “Put it back in your mouth.”

How had you gotten here? Well, alcohol had been involved, of course.

“Wanna know a secret?” You giggled from behind your glass as you swirled your finger in your drink. It was only your second one, but it was already going straight to your head, making the room spin. You weren’t much of a drinker, afterall. It wasn’t like you could hang with the big boys, though you were doing your best to.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes as he lifted his own glass to his lips, knocking it back and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. “Sure,” he agreed, deciding to play along.

The two of you had met at this same bar a week prior and ended the night with a drunken quicky in the bathroom before closing.

If he was being honest, Shikamaru didn’t even remember your name. He hadn’t expected--or cared, really--to see you again, but when he walked in that night, there you were, already drunk. So if he had to put up with your blabbering for an hour or so before he could bury himself in your cunt again, well, that was a price he was willing to pay.

Placing down your drink, you leaned over to Shikamaru unsteadily, placing your hand on his thigh for balance as you grinned stupidly up at him. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone.” You slurred.

“That’s what makes it a secret, isn’t it?” Shikamaru couldn’t help but roll his eyes; god you were dumb. If he hadn’t already seen how pretty your pussy was, he wouldn’t even bother talking to you right now.

You nodded, gripping his leg. “Okay… My secret is that I’m not even supposed to be in this bar!” You began to laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world, but Shikamaru stared at you a bit dumbfounded as he felt a sense of nausea turning in his stomach.

“I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean…” He muttered, straightening in his seat. In your drunked state, you were oblivious to his clear disdain.

So you just pushed yourself up, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a sip. “I’m only seventeen… I borrowed my friend’s ID to get in here.

And that was what Shikamaru had been hoping you weren’t going to say. You were a minor. At seventeen, that put Shikamaru seven years older than you. You were still in high school; meanwhile, he’d graduated from college three years ago already. All of this to say that your inebriated hookup in the bathroom was statutory.

Shikamaru felt sick with anxiety wondering who you told, if anyone. Would he get caught? Did it matter than he didn’t know you were a minor when he'd fucked you?

And yet, even in the midst of his worry, the words went straight to his cock. You were clearly in some kind of rebellion, probably a daddy’s girl who was trying to revolt against the good girl image you’d grown up with.

Shikamaru wanted to help with that; he would absolutely ruin you given the chance. Take this good girl and turn you into his little toy.

But Shikamaru wasn’t an idiot; he wasn’t going to risk jail time or the words “sex offender” on his record just for an easy, gullible lay.

So he brushed your hand off of him, pushing himself to his feet. Pulling out his phone, he called you an uber. Shikamaru wouldn’t call himself a good guy, couldn’t care less what you did on your own time, but he figured that maybe if he got you home safe, you wouldn’t retaliate against his rejection and turn him in.

“Come find me when you’re eighteen,” he muttered before shutting the car door behind you.

Lucky for him, that was only a week later.

You’d walked right into that bar clad in little red heels and a tight black dress that had him drooling. All eyes were on you, but yours were only on Shikamaru as you sauntered up to him and his friends.

He was leaning back in the booth, eyeing you expectantly as his friends drooled by his side. You reached into your purse, pulling out your ID and tossing it to him. It slid across the table in front of you, and he picked it up, eyeing it curiously before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s eighteen.”

You dangled your keys in front of him, the BMW logo on the remote visible to the whole ground. “My place or yours?”

That was how you ended up in Shikamaru’s bed, face down and ass up as he pounded into you from behind. He pushed your head into the mattress as he battered your cunt with his large cock. He hadn’t even taken time to prepare you, not that it mattered much. As soon as he rubbed his tip against your pussy lips, you were practically dripping.

“Couldn’t even wait for this cock, could you?” He taunted as he placed a hard smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it delicately. “What is it, baby? Those high school boys weren’t satisfying you? You needed a real man?” As if to punctuate his point, Shikamaru pressed his thumb against your tight, unused hole, making you squeal as he pushed it inside. Yeah, he’d definitely be using this hole at some point, too.

You were blabbering incoherently, the noises muffled into the bed as his cock dragged deliciously against your walls. You’d never been fucked like this before.

Shikamaru was rutting into you without rhyme or rhythm, chasing his own high, but you were already coming around him, making him laugh. “And I wasn’t even trying to get you off,” he ridiculed. “You’re just that desperate for me, huh?”

After hammering into you for god knows how long, he pulled you back up, using your hair as leverage to ride you even harder. “Shikamaru!” You cried out, clenching around him again. You’d lost count how many times you’d come.

“That’s it, baby… Say my name…” he grunted, smacking your ass again. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, baby? Want me to come in this stupid little cunt?”

You really were stupid because you were nodding, squeezing around him harder, practically begging for his load. You hadn’t been sexually active long enough to realize you should be on birth control, hadn't even bothered to make sure he was wearing a condom.

A string of curses fell from Shikamaru’s mouth as his grip on your hair tightened, and his hips began to stutter into yours, and then he was cumming, shooting his load deep into you as he bottomed out. His fingers went to your hips, gripping so hard you were sure they’d bruise. He held your hips tightly to his as he rolled back into you, pushing his cum deeper inside.

“Fuck,” he breathed before pulling out, collapsing down onto the bed. With shaky legs, you flipped yourself over to lay next to him, trying to cuddle into his side, but Shikamaru just shrugged you off.

“So, tell me…” He cocked an eyebrow as he looked over your naked form. You tried to pull the blanket up over yourself, feeling suddenly vulnerable under his gaze, but he yanked it off. “Don’t. I want to see you.”

Reaching into his night stand, he pulled out a blunt and his lighter. Placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and took a deep drag. “I know that’s not your car you pulled up in. Who’s is it?”

He blew out the smoke, and you wrinkled your nose at the smell. He smirked. “Never smoked before?” You shook your head and then wished you hadn’t as he shoved the blunt between your own lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, your eyes watering as you held the smoke in your mouth before releasing it, making Shikamaru laugh at your patheticness. “No. Again. All the way into your lungs.”

Again, you did what he said. Your lungs immediately began to burn as you inhaled the smoke, making you cough and hack violently. It seemed like every time you did, it only made you have to cough more.

You were light headed as you watched Shikamaru shake his head as he took another hit. “I asked you a question.”

“It’s my dad’s,” you managed between coughs.

He’d figured as much. You looked like you came from daddy’s money.

Shikamaru was able to coax your situation from you with fake niceties, how your parents had divorced because of your dad’s affair. He’d married the lady not a month after the divorce was finalized. She wasn’t even thirty yet.

So that was where your rebellion had come from. Probably the first hard thing you’d ever experienced in your life, and you couldn’t handle it. You were so pitiful, so clearly lost.

Well, lucky for you a guy like Shikamaru found you. Who knows what kind of creeps were out there just waiting to take advantage of a sweet, vulnerable girl like you?

Shikamaru was your boyfriend now. You couldn’t have been more thrilled. With his smoking, his long hair, his tattoos, he was your father’s worst nightmare. And there was nothing your dad could do to stop you. He’d already hurt you so much, broken all your trust. He was desperate to get back on your goodside.

So when you showed up to dinner one night with Shikamaru in tow, cigarette still tucked between his teeth, your dad nearly had a fit. It was clear by the look on his face; you’d never been so delighted before. But he sucked up it, sticking out a hand for Shikamaru to shake.

Your boyfriend only stared at it.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t smoke in my house.” Your father said.

“Sure, no prob.” Shikamaru dropped the cigarette on your front porch, crushing it under his heel before pushing past your dad into the home. You just smiled up at him sweetly before following behind.

“Nice place you got here,” Shikamaru said, cocking an eyebrow.

Dinner was awkward at best and everything you’d wanted. Shikamaru didn’t mind either. He was more than happy to play along with your antics for a fancy meal. You were so focused on how uncomfortable your dad was with every question Shikamaru answered that you didn’t notice the way your boyfriend was eyeing your new stepmom.

Later, when he had you on your knees in the bathroom as you father and his wife sat in the living room, it was her he was thinking of as he shoved his cock down your throat over and over again.

“Cmon, take it baby. You know you want it,” Shikamaru moaned, head thrown back in pleasure. “You owe me, don’t you? Using me to make your daddy mad. Such a bad girl, huh? Well, I held up my end of the bargain, sweetheart. Now you’re gonna hold up yours. Gonna let me use you to dump my cum in whenever I want, aren’t you?

He took the gurgled moan against his cock as confirmation.

It was a few more minutes of using your mouth before he was cumming long and hard to the thought of bending your stepmom over the bathroom counter. His load spilt down your throat before he pulled out slowly, making sure to fill your mouth before pulling you off him completely and finishing over your face.

He groaned at the sight of your tears mixed with his cum, making your makeup run and smear. The sight was almost enough to get him hard again.

“Better clean up, darling.” He jeered as he rubbed his cock over your messy face. For good measure, he smacked it against your cheeks a couple times.

Nodding and sniffling, you took him in your mouth again, cleaning the cum off of him so he could tuck himself away. “Don’t be too long,” he told you as he left you alone in the bathroom, a mess and covered in his cum.

He wasn’t too worried. He knew that you wouldn’t be dumping him any time soon. Then you would have to go running back to daddy, and he knew you didn’t want that. So you’d put up with just about anything he did.

Including when, a week later, you would walk in on him in his apartment, balls deep in your stepmom’s ass.

Through tears, you would just nod in agreement as he insisted it wasn’t cheating if it was in the ass.

He was nice. He even let his friends fuck you in the ass whenever they wanted, and he didn't get mad at it, so how could you?

Shikamaru loved eighteen year olds. They had so much to learn.

And he was willing to teach.

[adelle-ein]

hi! i cant believe i saw ur post about my tags! (no worries about @ing or not @ing me.) and ur SO RIGHT about the quality being too high for 2013… (id also love an aesthetic writeup)

it really was just a surprise because the number of gif creators has been drastically reduced since this post type has been dying out on all other platforms. for me it gave me the similar vibe of recent dvd movies being redesigned for vhs covers (tho not quite that old). it was super charming!

and i hope i didnt imply that your gif work was bad or outdated! i think the colors are quite fitting and the quality speaks for itself.

im quite new to the fe3h and ferdibert scene, so im having a great time trawling tumblr for all the great posts ive missed since 2019. i was quite happy to see this particular gif post because it felt like such a classic tumblr staple, like all ships need (at least) one dedicated set of gifs/edits, and this was the one i needed 🥰

thanks again, for both your original post AND reply!

Hi! I'm glad there's no worries there, I went back and forth for a bit and I didn't want it to feel like a callout post because. it was very much not! I just wanted to talk about gif stuff a little bit

and I definitely don't feel bad about your comments or anything! At first I was surprised but when I went and looked at the gifset I definitely agreed with you (despite nitpicks about the time period heh.) It did make me think about how, in general, I don't think tumblr gif-making trends have continued changing as much since the mid-2010s, and if they have I stopped really keeping up with them. I think some of that is probably just me, esp due to my never buying Photoshop CC (i remember looking at others' methods in maybe 2016ish and seeing that I just didn't have the tools others did anymore. my old CS6 is still chugging along…) but also due to the site becoming less popular over time and there being less interest and fewer people getting into gif-making. Like you said it's a bit of a dying medium, and it's never really been a popular post type on other platforms, so if not for tumblr who would people be making gifsets for?

Lol I definitely feel you about that style of post being an older ship staple though! It used to be such a common thing that every fandom had (albiet less for video games bc that's often harder - I do not honestly remember really making that series of 3h ship gifs but that was definitely dedication to the cause at the time, there was so little media to work with). Now a bit of a dying art alas (including from me since I don't really make many gifs at all anymore….learning to draw instead for a number of reasons)

Anyway yes that was a fun rabbit hole to go down! Genuinely I would love to read a Tumblr gif/graphic aesthetic writeup - putting framerates aside I don't think people really use textures that much anymore for example unless they need a background, and sharpening has definitely been toned down. And fewer song quotes. And filters still lean more pastel than the really saturated stuff in the early 2010s. But I don't really have the time atm to do some kind of deep dive myself…it would be really neat though!

(Also just in general as someone who never left, seeing the site come back to life a little bit as the twitter BS kicked off has been fun…idk if it will last but i'm enjoying it while it does!)

[shhh-no-ones-home]

death wish* matt murdock x reader

+++++++++ Request from @juniebugg : similar to Matt and Elektra in the gym ft Matt's choking kink

thank you again for the request and sorry it took so long. i had no idea how i was gonna write this and then it just hit me and i actually really like the way it came out so i hope you enjoy!

* - there is so little plot to this, i got so carried away omg. we definitely highlighted the choking kink, and maybe a praise kink, and mayhaps use a few pet names (good girl and baby girl) 😅

Song: disappear (remember when) by issues

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg  +++++++++

"matt what are we doing here?"

i asked, watching him unlock the door. it made me that much more curious that he even had a key to whatever the hell this was.

"i want to show you where i go after work everyday. you said you wanted to know."

i looked around as he stayed by the door, holding his cane to his chest like he usually did.

"this is it, isnt it? where your dad trained?"

i asked, touching the punching bag hanging from the ceiling with the lightest touch. i looked to him and he nodded, walking to me slowly.

"i have an arrangement worked out with the owner and i come as i please. after hours of course."

i stared at him for a moment and a silence hung over the entire room.

"he's part of you ya know."

he raised a brow as i moved to hug the bag close to me, using it as a resting post.

"well he was my father."

i sighed out a short laugh.

"no matt, i mean daredevil."

he drew his brows.

"im not daredevil."

i rolled my eyes, letting the bag go and stepping to him slowly.

"I'm not an idiot matt, i know you sneak out in the middle of the night when you think I'm fast asleep. i don't know exactly what's in that trunk under the stairs but its kind of hard to miss the smell of blood. and even harder to miss the bruises on your face and body you try so hard to hide."

i shook my head, reaching up to touch his face gently and he flinched.

"you cant hide who you are from me Mr. Murdock. i see right through you."

he swallowed hard, tilting his head down as if he were looking at me through his red glasses.

"You always have."

"I think that's why I didn't ask you about it. I wanted you to come to me first. Tell me on your own terms."

He smiled and I smiled back before he leaned down and kissed me gently.

"And you're not mad I'm the devil of hell's kitchen?"

I snorted.

"Of course not. I'm a little concerned maybe but not mad."

"Concerned?"

I looked to the side and picked my words carefully.

"I've heard the stories and I see you limping sometimes. It's not a secret whoever it is you are fighting can throw you around."

He smirked at me.

"Not that I can't handle it. In fact i do a good amount of my own throwing around."

I smiled, amused.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

he challenged. I shook my head, placing my hand on his chest.

"Wanna show me just how much you can do?"

I challenged back and he smirked.

"is this a test? this feels like a test."

i shrugged, tracing my fingers lightly down his chest.

"i dont know, why dont we step into the ring and find out."

"lead the way."

he said and i did as told. i climbed onto the platform and he followed shortly after, leaving his cane by the door.

"so, matt, how much can you really see?"

i tested, squaring up with him, hands in a defensive position.

"enough."

he said and i raised a brow, making an impressed face.

"so if i-?"

i said before throwing a punch, him dodging it with ease and retaliating by pushing me. i huffed before trying again and him repeating the motion. we circled each other for a few moments before he decided to throw one at me, me stepping to the side and both of us laughing.

"something tells me this might go on for a while."

he said a little snarky and i snorted.

"only one way to find out."

i said before throwing another punch. in a second he grabbed my wrist and threw me to the ground. i groaned in pain, looking up at him as he offered his hand to help me back up.

"guess we found out."

he said and i smirked up at him.

"did we?"

i asked, grabbing his hand and yanking him towards me, pushing my foot into his hip and flipping him up over me and onto his back opposite me. i rolled over quickly and got into a new fighting pose, one knee bent and still on the ground and the other leg up with my foot on the ground like someone who is proposing. i had my hands up in a defensive position again. he just groaned, tilting his head back towards me.

"so its gonna be like that."

he stated before rolling over and doing a push up to get to his knees.

"i suppose it is."

i said slyly, dodging his punch and standing quickly. he was just as quick to match me though, grabbing me and flipping us both back onto the ground. he was only on top of me for a few seconds before i flipped him onto his back and straddled him, holding his hands against the mat above his head.

"guess i win."

i said proudly, looking over his face. he clenched his fists twice before he pushed upward and slammed his lips into mine. it took me off guard at first, making me let go of his wrists to kiss him back. he slowly sat us up, not breaking the kiss and i could feel his hands roaming up my back. i hummed against him until we were completely upright and he started kissing across my jaw and down my neck.

"you win."

he whispered against my skin before sucking at my collar bone, holding me against him with one hand and the other traveling up my torso slowly.

"matt."

i moaned as he gripped my breast over my shirt, biting my neck as he did so. i held onto him for dear life as i pressed my hips down against his, tangling my one hand into his hair.

"i need you."

he said, leaning back and pulling my shirt over my head. when it was gone i moved to him to do the same and when it was tossed to the side i pushed him back down onto his back. i kissed down his chest and torso slowly.

"id say this is a pretty good victory."

i said, undoing his pants and he laughed, helping me get them down his thighs.

"one we can share in."

he said with a smirk, tracing his fingers against my ankles as i stood over him and got rid of my own bottoms.

"god i want you so bad."

i said, dropping back down on top of him, kissing him deeply as i ground against him. he was already hard and part of me was proud again for not only pinning him before hand but also getting him worked up that fast.

"then have me."

he whispered against my lips and i sat back up. first i trailed my fingers slowly down his torso, watching his chest rise and fall as his breathing got heavier. then as i got further down i heard his breath hitch in his throat, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

"trophy?"

i asked and he nodded quickly, pushing his hips up against my hand. i smirked before stroking him lightly, watching as his mouth opened a little.

"please."

he gasped, bucking his hips up again as i moved my hand up and down his member.

"i need words matt."

"i need-"

he groaned, squeezing his eyes tight as i continued to tease him slowly.

"i need more."

he pleaded. i let him go and moved to hover over him. his grip loosened a little bit.

"like this?"

i asked before running his tip through my folds, covering it in my slick and sinking down onto him. i dropped all the way down onto him until our hips were pressed against each other and he let out a shaky breath.

"oh my god."

he said, moving his one hand to my stomach. i looked down at him intently as i started moving against him. as i sat up and sank back down onto him his hand got further and further up my body, sending shivers down my spine as he traced gently up the valley between my breasts.

"matt."

i moaned, his hand making its way around my throat and holding firmly.

"do you trust me?"

he asked and i nodded against him.

"god yes."

i confessed, him pulling me down and flipping us over. his one hand was still on my throat, the other coming to the mat to hold him up.

"how does it feel to have your life in my hands?"

he asked harshly as he jutted into me and i let out a short breath, my mouth hanging open.

"answer me."

he demanded, slamming into me again and i moaned.

"fuck, it feels great."

i whined, him doing it again and again until he had a good rhythm, pounding into me.

"tighter."

i said, holding his wrist with a death grip, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"how do we ask?"

he said and i pushed my hips up against him.

"please!"

i screamed as he pushed into me harshly.

"good girl."

he praised, squeezing tighter and my brain went fuzzy.

"matt."

i said drunkenly, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. then he let go of my throat and i made a disappointed face. but my expression changed as his fingers found their way to my clit. i moaned loudly as he circled it with his forefinger. i pressed my nails into his bicep as he kept his pace, pushing into me hard and fast.

"you gonna cum when i say?"

he asked and i made a squeak noise in my throat.

"was that a yes?"

he asked and i nodded quickly.

"yes, oh god yes!"

i cried, trying to hold out.

"please matt."

i pleaded.

"almost there."

he grunted, hanging his head beside mine. i could feel his unsteady breaths against my collar bone and it sent a shiver down my spine again.

"cum for me baby girl."

he said and i could feel him twitch in me. then i pushed up against his hand and screamed as i came around him. he groaned against me as he came in me, pushing into me a few more times before pausing and trying to catch his breath.

"y/n."

he said softly between breaths.

"matt."

i sighed out, rolling my head back and forth, my vision getting clearer. he just hovered over me for a few seconds before pulling out slowly and i gasped at the sensation, feeling his cum dripping out of me and onto the mat below us. he dropped to his back beside me and sighed heavily.

"how have we never done that before?"

i said breathlessly before we both laughed.

"ive never gotten you into the ring before."

he said matter-of-factly and i turned my head to look at him.

"if you always fuck like this i might have to make more of an effort to get into the ring with you."

he smiled at that but only for a second.

"ya know i definitely didn't think tonight would go like this."

i snorted.

"and i did?"

he let out a short laugh.

"no i guess i just meant, well, we've only been dating for a little bit."

i rolled onto my side and touched his face gently.

"does that stand against how long we've been friends before hand?"

he half shrugged, rolling onto his side to face me, tracing his fingers up my arm gently.

"i have loved you for a while."

he said and i smiled, kissing his hand as it made its way up my shoulder and to my cheek.

"the feeling is mutual."

he smiled back at me before leaning forward and kissing me gently.

"god i cant believe foggy was right."

he lamented and my face fell to that of confusion.

"what do you mean?"

i said i little amused.

"he bet that id say i love you first."

i made an unbelieving laugh-like sound before hitting his chest and sitting upright.

"and im guessing you bet that id say it?"

i said, faking hurt and he laughed, sitting up too.

"i honestly didnt have a doubt in my mind."

i shook my head, reaching for his pants.

"rude."

i stated bluntly, tossing them at him and  he laughed again.

"youre right, and i was wrong. but now that its out i have no intention of stopping my oh so serious confession."

i stood to pull my pants back on, amused.

"well, save it for the priest then lover boy."

[violetnotez]

Hiiiiiii! Can I have a request where Midoriya’s s/o makes a promise to him that they will protect them with their life?

“God, this part always made me so upset,”

you snuggled closer into his shoulder, grip tightening on his sleeve as you watched the woman on screen let go of her lover to the ocean, the melancholy music playing like the main theme like a funeral progression as the camera captured the beart wrenching moment.

Midoriya chuckled, looking down at your pouted face as you watched the scene of Titanic unfold, your expression obviously unhappy with the events taking place in the story.

“And why’s that?” He asked, almost sheepishly, timid voice ringing out with curiosity as he smoothed the hair away from your face with his scarred palm.

He felt you take a deeper breath, your chest deeply pressed into his for a second or two. “I could never do that,” you stated, your voice muffled from being curled into his tshirt, “just leave somebody I love like that to die. It’s kinda messed up when you think about it.”

“Well, she didn’t really have much choice, the door only couil fit one person-“

You shuffled on top of him, propping your head up with a playful huff. “It could have totally fit him on too!”

Midoriya chuckled, finding it kind of funny how adamant you were about this fictional scenario. Apart of him agreed with you, that the protagonist maybe could have tried a little harder to save her lover....but apart of him felt sympathy for her.

Many times he’s been in near death experiences, the sole task of saving people in need left on his shoulders. He couldn’t count how many times he stayed up at night, rethinking his approach to those situations in order to do better the next time around, beating himself up when situations ended up worse than he thought.

He knew what it felt like to be those situations, where the line between life and death was only but a single fragile thread, one wrong move snapping the boundary Indeifnitley, and not knowing what the right move was until moments after when everything was said and done.

Did this character regret her decision? Did she wish she saved her lover, not listening to him and joining him in death as well?

Midoriya shook his head of the morbid thoughts, coming back to reality when he heard a man yelling from the TV.

Izuku looked back down at you, grabbing your hand instinctively, finding a certain solace with touching you, grounding himself back into reality.

Midoriya was prone to going on tangents internally, his mind an Icarus of itself. He would fly through his thoughts, each other more detailed than the last, until it ran him into a barrier like the sun, suffocating his sanity.

But with you, you were his saving grace....an angel to gently pull him back to Earth, unknowingly keeping him from being engulfed by his own self.

His thumb squeezed yours gently, smiling as the familiarity of your face made him feel at ease in the present. The man on the screen was still yelling, presumably looking for any survivors as your brows knitted in sadness, hands pressed deeper into Midorya’ chest.

“What would you have done?” He suddenly asked, his thumb grazing the skin of your outer hand.

“Like-if it was you and me?”

He felt you tilt your head, gaining a peck to see his facial reaction. Izuku gulped, feeling a familiar heat raise to his cheeks knowing you were curious by his question-did you find it wierd he was asking such a sad question? Was it a bit morbid for a home date to ask? You had been together for a while...was it okay to ask that?

You felt your voice call out his name, the sound sweet and dreamlike against his ear as he awoke yet again from his internal tangent, shaking himself from the thoughts.

He sent you an apologetic grin, green eyes wide and cheeks glowing a dusty pink.

“I-I guess you could say that,” he said sheepishly, hoping the question didn’t bother you too much with its dark undertone.

He felt you hum against him, your smaller chest sending a vibration down his spine as you thought about his question.

“Well...” you sighed, your eyes shifting upward to look at him “I would obviously try to make you go on with me.”

“And what if it didn’t fit us both?”

I’d make it fit us both,” you said triumphantly, shuffling to prop yourself up in your palms, showcasing a proud grin.

Izuku chuckled at your antics, scarred digits moving to your hips, encasing you on his lap. It was so comfortable like this, so domestic...you really were like a dream, so stubborn yet so sweet in all the right ways.

Deku bite his bottom lip, emerald eyes looking down.

“And what if that didn’t work?”

You tilted your head, leaning down slightly to look at Izuku’s expression. Your grin was on your face, that pride still plastered on your expression.

“I’d force you on it.”

You said it so effortlessly, as if it was so normal and nonchalant. But to Izuku, this was major-you practically said you would-well, die for him-how could you be that.....devoted?

It wasn’t as if Izuku wouldn’t do the same-hell, he’d willingly give his life over yours if it came to it, no question about it...but hearing it from you-well it worried him as well as filled him with a strange sort of gratefulness.

“Force me?” He stuttered out, eyes wide with confusion. “But I-I wouldn’t, I couldn’t let you do that-“

“Cmon ‘Zuku, lets be real here-“ you pursed your lips, your expression more serious than before. “you’re a pro hero. Your life is way more valuable than me.”

“T-that’s not true, all life is valuable, especially yours! I couldnt live with myself if you-“

“You lived without me once-you could live without me again.”

Izuku sucked in a harsh breath, his chest brushing against your yours for a split second. He didn’t expect that from you...such a blatant lack of your own concern for your life. How could you be so willing to lay everything down for him? Of course, you were only saying this, and actions speak louder than words as they say...but the way you were looking at him confirmed what you were saying. Your eyes were knitted, irises dark and full of harsh honesty. It terrfied him, filled him with a pool of icy worry in his stomach.

“I couldn’t.”

He breathed out, digits squeezing your skin, almost as if to confirm you were still there with him, heart beginning to beat like a steady drum in his chest.

“Izuku, your life, no matter how you look at it, is much more valuable.”

You explained, your lips curving into a sweet smile. “You save lives, and you’re pretty damn good at it-Id protect you with my life, because you’d help way more people than I could ever in one life time.”

“T-that’s....no, I-“

You laughed at his obvious flustered look, loving how adorable he was with his cheeks like red licorice, freckles dusted like specks of choclate, sweet and enticing to devour.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his heated cheek, nose grazing his skin, warmth radiating off of him. You giggled at how much he reacted to that one small gesture, his nose taking in a sharp inhale of breath and muscles of his legs tightening under you.

“Just be grateful I wouldn’t toss you into the ocean.” You said mischievously, eyes creased with amusement.

“T-thanks....I guess...”

You smiled, feeling guilty as well as proud that you had the power to turn such a strong person’s mind into much with just a few actions. You decided to give the poor guy a break, finding your spot against his chest yet again. You snuggled back into him, relishing in the smell of his shirt that was so familiar at this point.

“Ya know...I-I...I really-love you,” you heard Izuku stutter out the words, voice so timid it made your heart tug with adoration, “and Id do the same for you. In a heart beat.”

In A heart beat.

It echoed in your head like a mantra, that honey sweet word circulating your body, warming up every corner of your insides.

You yawned quietly, the feeling so refreshing and calming as you snuggled deeper into him, relaxing your body as your lids fluttered down.

“In a heart beat...” you repeated back, feeling as if the simple phrase was perfect to say, the sensation of Izuku’s strong heart beat a reminder of that promise.