#i'm sure i'm not the only one that saw this

[prokopetz]

As someone who follows a lot of webcomics, including some very long running ones, I'm suddenly curious: have you any thoughts on the decline and fall of Sinfest?

I was there when Sinfest went off the rails, and it's kind of hilarious because it didn't go at all the way most folks assume it did. A lot of people have only seen the comic's early days and what it's doing this week and conclude it must have been a straight line from the former to the latter – which honestly isn't a bad guess! – but it actually went through a milquetoast liberal feminist phase somewhere in the middle, if you can believe it.

The trouble is, the comic's author had this whole Grand Philosopher of the Internet shtick going, and this was back when just having a regularly updating website made you kind of a big deal, so they were accustomed to being treated as an authority on whatever subject they saw fit to shoot their mouth off about. However, when the comic took a turn from edgy T&A pop culture parody to didactic feminist allegory, practically no one was prepared to take it seriously; the comic's established readership was broadly unreceptive, and whatever new readership the comic was trying to court found the idea of suddenly treating the Calvin-and-Hobbes-with-tiddies guy as an authority on the topic of feminism laughable.

Of course, I said practically no one. There was, in fact, one notable group who were perfectly willing to kiss the Calvin-and-Hobbes-with-tiddies guy's ass. I'm sure you can guess who.

(To be 100% clear, I'm not saying "oh, Sinfest's author was forced to go down the transphobic radfem pipeline because we nasty leftists were mean to them". They're a colossally entitled twerp who voluntarily got in bed with fascists because couldn't deal with not being taken seriously as an authority figure, and they made their own choices. I'm just remarking on the particulars of that trajectory!)

[buckysfaveplum]

her weakness

summary: you’re an enhanced individual with strong abilities and one moral code- you only fight with them when your opponent is also enhanced. during the fight with john walker, that code gets broken when bucky is hurt

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, fighting, it’s a fight seen so yea expect things relating to that

a/n: i rewatched tfatws and this fight always makes me so worried for my bbs so yea this was born. I typed it up helllllla quick so I'm sorry if its trash, I'm not too proud of this one idk.

masterlist | send requests

Your feet followed closely behind Bucky as you approached the warehouse. Your limbs were stiff and your skin clammy. Your hand stayed firmly in Bucky’s grasp as you approached John Walker. Sam had tracked him to a storage warehouse near the square you had just witnessed brutality in.

He murdered him, in cold blood, with Steve’s shield. You couldn’t get the screams of the public out of your head, the sound of the vibranium as it slashed into the flagsmasher’s body. You would’ve thrown up if Bucky hadn’t pushed you behind him. You had seen much worse, much more gruesome violence in your line of work. But something about this was sickening, rotting away in your stomach as you tried to grapple with the truth that the shield your friend once carried with honor and pride was just used by an unhinged soldier who found joy in the worst parts of the job.

Bucky stayed ahead of you, following Sam as they entered the building. Your hand trembled in his vibranium grasp. His thumb gently brushed across the veins and bones of your hand, trying to bring you comfort before the scene he knew was about to play out.

As you walked into the large space, you saw him. He was too composed and stoic for what had just taken place. His tall and slender figure loomed as he casually walked up to you all, barely acknowledging Sam as he tried to get him to listen.

“Walker,” Sam started. The soldier brushed Sam’s stern tone off, hopefully delaying what he knew was coming.

“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good,” He said, walking past you.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam took a few steps closer, trying again to get him to focus.

Your jaw tightened as you watched the man pace erratically in front of you. He was muttering quietly before responding as if trying to convince himself what he was saying had any truth.

“What?” He asked, coming closer. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened, sensing Walker’s anger began to boil over. You knew a fight was coming, it always was. 

“I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!” Walker shouted, his arms waving now and revealing how off the deep end he had gone. 

You knew the moment you saw him in that fight. He stole the serum and took it for himself. This behavior just confirmed it. But the serum only enhanced what was already bubbling under the surface. The same John you meet on the highway. The same John who waltzed into the police station as if he had the authority or right to control Bucky and call him an ‘asset’. It was always there. 

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”

Bucky’s smooth and deep voice cut through the tension in the room. You felt his grip on your hand squeeze for a moment, making sure you were okay. He could always sense your anxiety in the field. Your powers made keeping your calm difficult. You would never use them in battle unless your opponent was enhanced as well. You were a skilled fighter and agent, you didn’t need them. And it didn’t always seem ethical. But keeping them at bay, in check, could prove difficult- especially in heightened situations such as this.

Walker scoffed at Bucky’s words, dismissing the truth like it was nothing.

“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well,” Bucky said.

“I’m not like you!” Walker’s voice was full of disgust and resentment. From the moment you met him, you could sense his quiet disdain for your best friend. Looking down his nose at him like he was some scum left over from Steve's life, something he’d always have to deal with. Yet at the same time, resentment. Jealousy over his power, control, and abilities in his enhanced body. As if that’s what made him an excellent fighter. Or a good person.

Your spare hand moved between Bucky’s shoulder blades, giving him a subtle and quiet support as you prepared.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle, okay?” Sam said, taking a step closer to Walker. That shield danced in your vision, taunting you as he paced back and forth. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record.”

Walker’s distress spread across his face, his brows furrowing and eyes scrunching as he tussled with Sam’s words.

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam said.

The warehouse went silent as Walker stared at the ground before him. Bucky gave you a soft, tight-lipped smile before begrudgingly dropping your hand. He slowly took a step towards the man, joining Sam.

“John…” Bucky said, calmly. 

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” Sam said.

That did it. You could feel the room shift that second.

A disturbing serene aura washed over Walker at that moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to you all. His eyes were dark, lacking a certain warmth and compassion you had grown so used to seeing through that blue cowl. A certain warmth that left when he hung up the shield.

“Oh…. so that’s what this is,” Walker said. “You almost got me.”

You could see his grip on the shield tighten, the leather straps twisting between his fingers.

“You made a mistake,” Sam said.

You slowly took a step forward, your hands flexing as you prepared for what was to come. Walker finally turned his gaze to you. His eyes roamed you up and down. You could’ve sworn you saw Bucky’s jaw clench, that familiar muscle tightening in distress. Walker smirked at you before glancing at Bucky. He could read the protectiveness radiating off of your supersoldier.

“You don’t wanna do this,” Walker said to him.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze. His fists balled at his side, practically shaking with anger. He never took pleasure in a fight, every punch or kick felt like a necessity rather than enjoyment. But he couldn’t deny how much he desired to rip that shield from his grimy hands.

“Yeah we do,” Bucky said.

Sam lurched forward first, Bucky soon following suit. Your feet moved quickly, moving behind Walker as your friends attacked from the front. The man moved with a speed you had yet to see from him, a brute force you could only get from the serum.

With a harsh kick, Walker sent Sam flying away, leaving you and Bucky alone. You tried to knock Walker down from the back as Bucky grappled with the shield. As you sent a harsh kick into the back of Walker’s knees, he spun quickly and sent a jab into Bucky’s gut sending him backward in pain and knocking him off balance. Before you could back him up, Walker slammed a harsh punch into Bucky’s jaw. Your heart raced and your hands shook as you watched him drop to the ground. You sprung into action, pulling the shield back in your hands and keeping Walker from smashing it into Bucky’s face. Sam leaped in, kicking the shield up and drawing attention to him.

You slammed a kick into Walker’s back, sending him stumbling forward as Sam slashed at him with his wings. Bucky leaped up, his arm aiming to come down on the faux Captain America’s back hard but was ultimately blocked by the shield. 

You were growing frustrated. Walker never packed this much of a punch. The serum raged through his veins, lacing each kick and swing of the shield with force and hate. As you and Sam continued to trade blocks at Walker, Bucky attempted to pull him down but was quickly met with the shield swinging into the side of his face. Your legs shook. The longer this dragged out the more difficult you find keeping your emotions in check. The longer you watched your favorite person in the world become decorated with blood and bruises, the more your ethical code began to look like a suggestion. Walker deserved a swift blast to the face and more. But you held off. 

Walker slammed the shield into Sam’s back, sending him down. As your two friends recovered briefly, it was just you and him. You surged forward at the man, dodging as he swung at you. Being smaller than the two Avengers alongside you made it much easier to evade Walker’s sloppy attacks. You sent a firm kick into his chest followed by an uppercut into his chin. As he spun and tumbled, Bucky was back on his feet and meeting Walker with punches. Bucky’s attacks quickly led the pair into a tight spot, backing Walker up into a heavy piece of machinery. The pair spun in circles over the shield, yanking the vibranium disc back and forth and trading beatings in between. Sam quickly followed you over, diving in for aid, but quickly was sent flying back by Walker’s attacks. His body slammed to the ground with a grunt.

While Bucky worked, you glanced at Sam. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, preparing to dive back into the fight. In your moment of distraction, the fear and care for your dear friend overriding your common sense to keep fighting, you heard Walker’s voice pull you back. Bucky was trapped between the shield and a machine. You rushed over to help but it was far too late.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Before you could register what Walker was saying, you watched as Bucky went flying. 

Walker’s forceful swing of the shield sent him hurtling across the warehouse. Your body froze as if someone had filled your veins with cement. The dramatic scene Walker had created came to an end with Bucky’s body smashing into an electrified pole and crashing to the ground. The might of his impact snapped the pole in the middle, sparks cascaded from the steel and flooded onto the floors; leading your eyes to Bucky. 

“Bucky!” You screamed.

His body lay limp and splayed out on the cold dirty floors. His face was smushed into the cement. His limbs didn’t dare to move. Except for his vibranium arm, which twitched and spasmed under his body; blue and white sparks burst out from the plates adding to the horror.

Your breaths were heavy and shaky, your hands trembled at your sides as the vibrating blue of your powers began to spark at your fingertips; mirroring the sight of your best friend’s arm. The room was spinning, at least that’s what made sense to you. Your balance was unstable, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. You turned to spare a look at Sam, begging him for permission. But he was already back on his feet and rushing towards Walker. 

“Go!” He shouted.

You had never been faster. Your abilities never gave you the gift of flight but in that moment they very well could have. Your legs became weak and your steps messy as you neared Bucky. You crashed to your knees beside him, pain radiated up your thighs from the impact but you couldn’t care. It couldn’t be worse than the expanding tight pain in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

Your hands quivered as they hovered over his body. With him lying so still you could finally take in the damage Walker had done to his face. Blood was splattered all over, deep purple and blue hues bloomed across his cheekbones, and a nasty split had opened on his lip. Worst of all, his nose was broken.

The sparks continued to burst from the plates of his arm, his hand jerking and spasming with an unsettling sound of grinding metal. Quickly, you placed your hands firmly on the vibranium. A deep blue beamed from under your palms, cascading the metallic golds and blacks of his arm in your glow. The excess electricity from the crash moved in waves through the arm up into your hands. You focused as all the veins in your body became electrified, an aqua glow shone through your skin as the energy you. Your once y/e/c eyes were quickly overtaken, the cool energy overriding your iris’ and leaving an intense indigo shine. With a sharp gasp and breath, you let go. His arm had stopped moving, now lying as still and motionless as he did. 

“Bucky,” you said, giving his damaged body a soft shake. “Bucky, wake up.”

He didn’t move, his face slack and limps heavy as you struggled to turn him to his back and off of his arm. Your hands rushed to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding him close as if you could shield him from more of John Walker’s savagery. If someone had the power to take your abilities and trade them for the ability to heal, you’d offer them anything they wished just for the potential to spare Bucky from his pain even for a moment. 

“Buck… come on wake up,” the fresh blood from his injuries spilled into your fingertips, the crimson caked into your cuticles and threatened not to leave.

“Plum, please,” His body twitched; your lungs finally filled with air. 

His breaths were labored but there, his chest rattled as he sucked in much-needed air. Your fingers moved to his neck, their shuddering finally stilling as you felt his pulse return to a firm and strong pattern.

The sounds of Sam’s grunts and Walker’s cries swiftly pulled your attention back to your friend. He was up in the air, a long metal cord pulling on the shield and attempting to free it from Walker’s venomous grasp. To no avail, as soon Sam was flung back to the floor and across the room. The shield clattered to the ground, equally laid between the two men. The smug and determined look on Walker’s face enraged you, the blue glow returning to your eyes. Sam glanced over at you before rushing for the shield. He needed you.

You turned back to Bucky, still unresponsive to your touches and voice. He was breathing, his pulse steady. Taking in the broken state of his body, his face battered and bloodied, you couldn’t hold back your rage any longer.

It was as if something had possessed you. Gently, you laid Bucky back to the ground, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice monotone yet determined. The expressions of concern, fear, and horror that had played upon your face just moments ago were now gone. You were cold and still, as you rose to your feet and walked over to the two men fighting behind you.

Before Walker could grab the shield, a harsh blast of blue energy sent him flying back in the opposite direction. The man was studded, confused by how he could have been knocked down. He looked up to see you rushing towards him. You were steady in your movement, not running but with each step winding up for the next blow. Your hands were baked in a fierce glow of aqua as you channeled more energy through your fingertips. 

Walker scrambled to his feet, preparing for the offense. Before he could even take a step he was back on the ground with another blast from you. A loud cry fell from your lips as you slammed him down with force from your power. As you ran up to Walker, he quickly sent a firm hit to your jaw. You stumbled back, regaining your vision to see him coming at you. You jumped up, knees to your chest and feet pressing on his as you blasted him once again. 

He was on the ground with you towering over him. His face was coated in shades of black and blue, mirroring the face you were trembling over just seconds ago. Good, he deserved that and more.

You blasted him again as he struggled to crawl away. You followed him, hot on his trail as energy overflowed from your hands. The shield was long forgotten by you, only driven by your need for revenge. Bucky couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t move. He needed to pay.

Walker’s body slammed back into machinery as you surged more energy at him. He was done, hands shaking above him as he prepared for your next blow.

“We’re better than this right? Captain America doesn’t do this,” Walker said through his split lip and shaking jaw.

You scoffed; if only he had thought that way an hour ago. You wouldn’t be here. Bucky would be okay.

“Good thing I’m not Captain America,” you said. Walker shielded his face as you wound up your aim. Energy radiated from your fist up your forearm as you pulled it back to deliver one last shot.

“Y/n, stop!” Sam shouted.

Your blast was halted by a firm hand on your upper arm. You recognized the stillness and coolness that held onto your body. Turning you saw Bucky behind you. He was shaking as he stood, breaths labored and heavy, but there he was. Sam ran up behind the two of you, shield in hand as he looked at you. But all you could focus on was Bucky.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking his head softly as he lowered your arm. 

“This isn’t you, you don’t do this,” he said. Your nostrils flared as you breathed heavily, struggling to reel your rage back in. You glanced back at Walker who lay on the ground, glaring at you smugly. Your eyes shone brighter, your fists clenching as the glow intensified. 

“Hey,” Bucky said, taking your face and turning you to look back at him. “You’re not him.”

The energy overtaking your body began to fade as you relaxed under his firm touch. The uncontrollable blue glow began to fade back into your body, leaving you panting as you tried to calm your emotions. Bucky stood before you, vibranium hand stroking your own.

“You’re okay,” you said.

“I’m okay. Hey, hey, I’m okay. It’s over,” he said, pulling you away from the scene you had created. He walked you slowly back towards Sam, you shook in his grasp. Walker struggled to stand as he watched the three of you leave. The shield taunted him as it hung off of Sam’s arm, finally back with its true owner. The Captain America.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at Sam. “I just….” you glanced at Bucky, once again seeing the battering of his beautiful face. Your throat swelled as you lost your words, choking on your fear.

“We got it back,” Sam said, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading out of the building. His limp as he walked didn’t escape you.

Bucky gripped your hand tightly, pulling you with him as he walked. He didn’t make it far before his knees began to buckle, his body slipping as he fell. You were at his side in a heartbeat, arm hauling him back up beside you; refusing to let his body crash to the filthy ground again. 

“Hey, hold onto me,” you said. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and his other gripped at your waist as you began to pull him from the warehouse, his feet limping and tripping as he struggled to walk. Walker’s body began to fade in the distance as you left.

“Why did you do that, doll?” Bucky asked as you walked, his voice slurred and low. Each wince and suck of breath stabbed at your side like a pecking bird, refusing to let your wound heal. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never done that. I….” you paused, stopping your feet as you gave him a moment to catch his breath. “When I saw you hit that pole, I lost it.”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” he said, yet his words seemed to hold no weight as he struggled to stay upright at your side.

“Your arm was sparking, Bucky. You weren’t moving. I-I thought that you…” You couldn’t finish, gripping him tighter as your voice shook. As if letting him go would give the world a chance to tear him from you once again. Your fingertips dug into his tact suit, determined to embed yourself in him.

“Hey, babydoll,” he said, hoisting himself up just enough to take your face in his hands. He swayed on his feet as he stood, intent on holding you close as he spoke. Your hands held him steady at his side.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. But no matter what happens to me, I don’t want you to lose yourself,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I can’t have that.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you said.

“You won’t. I’m right here, I’m always coming back to you.”

You nodded softly as you rested your head on his chest. His hands moved to your hair as he held you close. Your hands wound around his center, keeping him safe in your arms. As long as you were around, no one would take him.

“You’re so good, you’re so special, Y/n. You need to be strong, even if I get hurt. You can’t drop your morals for me. They mean too much to you,” he said.

“I think you may be my weakness,” you said, your voice muffled in his chest. He tucked himself closer into you at your words, his head resting upon yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ve always been mine,” he said softly.

---

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[nanenna]

So I was reading the Animorphs books as they came out, I was one of those middle schoolers who read the first few volumes and lost my mind. My friends and I continued to read them, anxiously waiting for the next book and then talking about it in the breaks between classes and squealing about spoilers for whoever was furthest ahead. Around the time after the first multiple choice book came out (I distinctly remember reading that) I came to a realization.

This is a war story. It wasn't going to be pretty, it wasn't going to have a happy ending.

I saw it coming, she was not at all subtle about it. I knew it was going to be long and drawn out, that we were going to watch the good guys (the undeniable good guys, which really doesn't happen in a real war, yes not even with the nazis) get ground down as they bled and were maimed over and over to barely scrape by with half victories. That these kids were going to be ragtag guerilla fighters trying to keep their home from completely succumbing while waiting for backup that was likely to never actually come. I don't know if that's the actual ending because...

I struggled with that for a bit, then dropped the series.

I knew it wasn't for me. I was just a kid back then, I think a freshman in high school? We were watching Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z and Justice League (Unlimited). My friends were starting to get bored of the series too, it was to them a lot of just status quo. The heroes were trying their best but weren't really making any meaningful changes. I'm not sure if I was the only one who had the "there won't be a happy ending" realization, but I think we all felt it.

So I found the letter that the Animorphs author and trans ally K. A. Applegate wrote after the series ended and I’m FLOORED

I mean

[velvetvexations]

Chiming in on the whole "do tmascs/the transandrophobia community actually harass tfems on the scale that is claimed" thing, I've been wondering that for a while too, especially since back when [Popular Trans Blogger] was dealing with The Most Normal CEO Ever I saw literally EVERY SINGLE major voice in transandrophobia circles immediately drop everything, put aside all the harassment and hate they had faced, make it clear that trans people being harmed by cishet society comes before discussing deeper theory, and basically non-stop post about how she didn't deserve that and openly critique tumblr's transphobia and how it hurts tfems despite the fact that that user and her followers had been consistently vile to transmascs. Like they all jumped up to add their voices against the banning, it was so fucking clear they were able to prioritize protecting trans people no matter what, and no one ever really talks about it because they also don't gloat about putting the swords down for the greater good. It's just something they know needs to be done and they won't paint themselves as heroes or martyr for it.

On the other hand, I've never in my entire life seen a big TRF or anyone who travels in those circles ever stick their neck out when tmascs are experiencing harassment and transphobia, not once. Not even when it leads to the same unjust bans that tfems face(which do happen, at similar rates to tfem bloggers like the idea that the trans bans are a tfem only thing is simply not true). Like I've blogs that are constantly posting about how "if you never post anything about supporting trans women then you're probably a secret transmisognist" turn around and respond to people pointing out that they never post anything even vaguely supportive of tmascs(not even talking about discourse just the usual "trans men are valid and deserve support" positivity stuff that goes around) who are on their "side" by saying "um I'm a trans woman and this is my personal blog so I don't have to say nice things about trans men ever and it says absolutely nothing about me that I never have anything kind or nice to say about even the transmascs that are on my side/valid in my opinion and actually it's bigoted for you to demand I say nice things about other trans people fuck you kthxbye" and I just. What??

I know that there have been some cases of tmasc/transandrophobia bloggers harassing a trans woman, but like. It's pretty rare and usually only a couple of people. And that's still bad ofc but the scale is different for sure. In terms of big, influential tumblr users I swear every single time a popular tfem gets deactivated all the transandrophobia bloggers jump to their defense, meanwhile TRFs just gleefully go around attacking every trans guy who so much as breathes in their direction and calls you a transmisognist if you point out that it's fucked of them to have a double standard about trans rights. Or acts like "I said something bigoted and other members of my community got mad" is harassment. Like [Popular Tfem Musician] was def getting Harassed but I watched the whole thing unfold and while there were a few shitty tmascs chiming in, overall the harassment was led by an entirely different group who was mad about something unrelated, they just happened at the same time so everyone figured ALL the harassment was coming from tmascs when it very much was not.

(Also tmasc/transandrophobia bloggers are also constantly adding "if you're a follower and I see you bothering the person I'm talking about I'll report and block you myself" they like care a lot about all trans people and will show tf up for even ones they disagree with or who have directly harmed them when push comes to shove. [Popular MLP Tfem Artist] is still getting accused of harassing other trans women despite her constantly instructing her audience to leave everyone alone. And I have def seen way more transandrophobia bloggers call out any tmascs or other trans people on "their" side get ignored and deplatformed if they prove to be bad actors. I don't see TRFs doing that like. Ever. Like they go "take our the trash in your community" to tmascs but pretend they can't read when someone asks them to denounce people who openly harasses tmascs. Or just makes excuses for them because surely we can't actually harm a trans man, it doesn't count.)

But yeah I fully assume the reason TRFs say no one ever harasses tmascs but that they harass tfems all the time is because they simply do not think harassing trans people is wrong so long as it's directed at the correct target. I mean why would the "trans men don't have real problems" crowd ever actually say anything nice about them or help them when they're being harassed or tell their followers to leave them alone? It's just really sad to watch, big tmasc bloggers are not harassing people the way the TRFs want everyone to think, and they certainly don't harass other trans people the way TRFs do, but they get burdened with the harassment accusations and no one thinks to even check if that's actually what's happening.

10/10, I have nothing to add.

[themultifanshipper]

It was a lot of fun, being persued by by two Formula 1 drivers. 

But they would soon be getting tired of the chase. They weren't going to let you stay ahead of them for much longer. 

Warnings: smut, finally bottom franco, technically a threesome but not really, restraints (belt), edging, shower sex, anal (mxm), face fucking, tension?

Anon originally had an idea with journalist reader but I went in another direction :3

The tension between you and Max had been brewing since your rookie year. 

You'd instantly taken a liking to each other and hung out all the time whenever you had breaks. 

You'd been on his yacht, he'd been to your family's vineyard for some wine tasting. You were good friends, and you knew each other exceedingly well. 

And of course it wasn't rare for the two of you to find yourselves battling for positions on track, and even came together a couple of times over the years. 

That lead to some pretty heated arguments, you even took a swing at him once. You were both hot-headed competitors, it was inevitable. 

Nothing ever happened between you though, you'd always kept a sensible distance to your coworkers. 

But you couldn't help being a tease. 

You'd put sexy bikini pictures of yourself on holiday in your private story, which only Max had access to. 

He figured it out pretty quickly when no one else seemed to know what the hell he was talking about when he asked them about it. 

And then Franco arrived. 

But he never pushed. If this was a game you wanted to play, he could wait it out, no problem. If you got desperate enough you would come crawling to him, he was sure of it. 

Franco was the biggest flirt you'd ever seen. Surpassing the likes of Daniel and Carlos as the smoothest talker on the grid. 

 He was slightly closer to you in age, so you gravitated towards each other naturally. 

You went on holiday with him a couple of times, and you went clubbing a lot. 

So pretty soon the rumours shifted from you and Max, to you and Franco. 

And there were pictures circulating. You and Max had had your fair share of paparazzi nuisances, but with Franco it was on another level. 

It was impossible to see each other without photos coming out the next day. 

Some were photoshopped, like the ones of you and him on your yacht, kissing.  

Or at least that's what your PR team told the public. 

You hadn't slept with him of course, but 4 glasses of wine is 4 glasses of wine. 

That's 3 too many if you want to keep a clear head. And day drinking in the sun is a dangerous game when you're alone with a horny man on a yacht. 

But you politely rejected his advances, insisting that your relationship was supposed to be professional. 

Max saw the photos. Of course he did. And he knew they weren't fake, so the next time he saw you he confronted you. 

Much to the chagrin of both of your bodies’ needs. 

“So how's it going with Colapinto?” he asked, faking nonchalance while you waved to the fans at the drivers parade. 

“Nothing's going on, don't be jealous” you plastered a fake smile on your face for the cameras. 

“I'm not jealous” he snapped. 

“Sure you aren't, Max. Anyway I keep my love life, and sex life, separate from my career, you know that”  

He scoffed, turning away from you to talk to whoever was on his other side.  

During the next week you decided to spice things up a little. 

The race weekend went by without a hitch, and Max didn't bring it up again. 

You sent Max a dirty picture. 

Nothing too bad, just you in some lingerie and a see through robe that hid absolutely nothing.  

You followed it up with “shit, that wasn't for you sorry” 

If that didn't get Max riled up nothing would. 

But to your disappointment, he didn't reply. 

That night you got yourself off to Franco's answering texts instead. You sent the same picture with the same caption, and waited for him to take the bait. 

The next weekend Max cornered you in the paddock on media day. 

He’d played the game at least, sending you a delicious picture in return, in the name of fairness. 

He dragged you to a quiet corner and caged you in against the wall. 

“What the fuck are you playing at?” he hissed, pressing you against the wall. 

“What the fuck Max! What are you even talking abou-” 

“I'm not fucking stupid, I know that picture was for me” 

You sighed. 

“No it wasn't, Max” 

“Who was it for, then?” 

“Wouldn't you like to know” you smirked, which just made him angrier. 

“Yes, I would actually”  

You pushed him off roughly and he stumbled backwards, taken off guard by your sudden aggressiveness. 

“None of your fucking business. And if you want to fuck me, this really isn't the right way to go about it” 

The next day, lord knows how, Franco managed to sneak into your driver’s room. 

You sauntered off, leaving Max to fume in silence at your audacity. 

“I enjoyed that picture very much, you know” he mumbled as he approached you from behind. 

He quickly plastered himself to your back, hands on your hips while he felt you up. 

“I'm sure you did. But it was an accident” your voice shook as his hands wandered. 

He chuckled. “I am not convinced of that”  

He placed kisses along the side of your neck, trailing upwards towards your lips as he turned your head to look at him. 

“Any chance I can see more?” 

His lidded eyes bore into yours and you sighed, pushing him away half-heartedly.  

“No Franco. I can't go around sleeping with my coworkers. It's not professional” 

He smirked. “Not professional? Tell me, who was that picture for?” 

You hesitated a second too long. 

“You don't know him.” 

He bit his lip mockingly, he knew you were lying. “Okay. I guess will just go then”  

Max won the race. He was back on his A-game and you’d spent the second part of the race squabbling with Franco and Alex over 10th place for the last point. 

And he did, he slipped out without anyone noticing him, leaving you to contemplate your next move. 

You got it, at the expense of Franco's front wing. 

“That was a dirty move” he groaned into your neck. 

You'd found yourselves back in the same position, him grinding against your ass, this time in the club while the bass made your bodies thrum with excitement. 

“If you want to get my attention, crashing into me isn't the right way to go about it” 

You shivered, both at his tone and at the fact that you'd said almost exactly that to Max three days prior. 

“Why would I want your attention?” you murmured back, enjoying the feeling of his hands caressing your body. 

“Darling, we both know you want to fuck me” 

You turned around in his hold, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster. 

“No I don't” 

He groaned and threw his head back in frustration. 

“Don't do this to me. We both want it, stop playing around and let me show you how good I can make you feel…” 

You smiled and leaned in. 

“But where's the fun in that?” 

You removed his hands from you body and slinked back into the crowd. 

What you didn't know is that Max was in the DJ booth with Lando, and with his vantage point he could see everything. 

Running away, once again. 

He saw you slip away through the crowd and over to the bar. 

His blood boiled and he decided to take action. 

But he didn't make his way to you. He went to see Franco instead. 

“Mate I need to talk to you” 

“Ok, mate” Franco was confused, but followed him towards the bathrooms anyway, where it was slightly quieter. 

“Did she send you a picture of herself last week?” Max was going straight to point. 

Franco hesitated. “Who?” 

Max rolled his eyes at the younger man “You know who, don't play stupid” 

The sudden thought that you might be in a relationship with Max flashed through Franco’s mind. 

What if he'd read the situation all wrong? What if Max had found out about the flirting and was actually about to beat him up? 

“No?” he answered, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. 

Max looked unimpressed. 

“Give me your phone” 

Franco complied immediately.  

Max proceeded to scroll through his messages, and clicked on the conversation with you. 

The picture of Franco appeared on his screen first, and he looked up at the man incredulously. 

“You sent one back? It was obviously bait. Are you stupid?” 

“I know it's all a game to her” he snatched his phone back “but playing it got me a very nice picture of her so who cares?” 

“I'm not playing the game and I got the same fucking photo” 

Franco frowned at his phone, and had to admit, he had him there. Maybe he had been stupid. 

“Well… you keep not playing, and I will keep playing, and we will see who get her to break first?” he suggested. 

“No” Max snapped. “I am sick of not playing”  

He glanced at Franco's screen, where the photo of you was still visible. 

They completely ignored you for two whole weeks. 

“She has been teasing us for too long. Now it's time she learned her lesson”… 

They avoided you at the weekend, and they never returned any of your calls and messages. 

You even tried sending them more pictures, but they both left you on read. 

You were bored. 

You knew something was up when you spotted the two of them deep in conversation in front of the Redbull garage. They were plotting. 

Max was pretty much your best friend on the grid, and you missed messing around with Franco. 

So on Saturday night, you sent them both a text you knew they wouldn't be able to ignore. 

Well Max might, but Franco would definitely crack. 

To Franco, you sent “If you come and fuck me now, I won't tell Max” 

And to Max, “If you come fuck me now, I won't tell Franco” 

You sent them both your room number, and waited. They both saw the texts immediately. 

Max had too much self control, so you doubted whether he would be desperate enough to show. 

You waited barely 20 minutes before Franco was at your door. 

But Franco…  

He was so easy. 

You had him on the bed, laying under you while you made your way down his body, picking off his clothing bit by bit. 

“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me”  

His pupils were blown wide and a slight blush was creeping up his neck. 

“The offer was too good to pass up” he groaned as you rubbed yourself over the bulge rapidly growing in his boxers. 

You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and roll you over. 

“Your teasing has been driving me crazy” he panted, hovering over you while he made quick work of your clothes. 

“Why do you think I was doing it” you muttered with a smile, and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he realised how much you'd been enjoying teasing him. 

“To make me lose it and come fuck the shit out of you?” he asked, exasperated. 

“That's the plan” you bit your lip, looking up at him with a smile. 

“Perra” he groaned, sitting up. “Turn over” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, doing as he said. 

His hands were palming your ass while he admired the view, when a sharp knock at the door broke the tense silence. 

Your jaw dropped as you looked back at Franco who was wearing a similar look of shock on his face. 

Neither of you knew quite what to do, and the knock sounded again, louder this time. 

You jumped to your feet, grabbing a robe on the way and opened the door. 

Max stood there, fists clenched. 

“Max…” 

“Is Franco in there?” 

You were taken aback by his question. 

“And bear in mind, the answer is going to determine how this evening goes for you” 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but was saved answering by Franco appearing next to you. 

“I am here… sorry” 

He looked slightly afraid, and it was understandable, because the grin that spread over Max's face was evil enough to scare even you. 

“I had a feeling you would be here” he stepped inside, crowding against you as he slammed the door behind him. “Option number two, then”… 

You didn't know what option number one was, but number two involved you having your hands tied to the headboard, while Max had his cock shoved down Franco's throat. 

Which is not something you ever thought you would see. 

But there Franco was, drooling around Max’s girth with red cheeks and tears in his eyes. 

You knew he was enjoying it though, because he was still wearing his boxers and the wet patch at the front was getting steadily larger. 

“Look at you” Max cooed “are you crying because you got caught betraying me just to get your dick wet?” 

Franco whined, hips bucking at Max's tone. 

“Or are you crying because you’re enjoying this a bit too much?” 

Franco closed his eyes, more tears falling as he breathed deeply through his nose. 

“You were fucking made for this. You've obviously had practice, slut ” 

Franco whimpered pathetically and you throbbed at the sound. 

You were fully naked, spread out for Max to admire. 

“And you” he snapped at you. “You have been teasing me for years, making me wait, while posting pictures of yourself for my eyes only. Then this little bitch arrives and you let him touch you? Absolutely not” 

He pulled out of Franco's mouth and manhandled him onto his hands and knees, facing you while Max dragged his boxers down his legs. 

Franco's eyes widened as he looked at you, glancing between your thighs at where you were glistening in the soft light. 

“You've been playing games with me since you joined the grid. And you would just let Franco have you after a couple of months? Over my dead fucking body” 

He pushed Franco down onto the bed, making his arms buckle and his back arch obscenely, and the younger man gasped. 

“So I'm going to fuck Franco, and you are going to watch.” 

God knows where the bottle of lube came from, but you were grateful for it, on Franco's behalf. 

The way Franco reacted when the first finger went it made you gasp softly. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he arched his back even more, pushing back against Max as he let out a porn worthy whimper. 

You were getting so turned on, you went to close your thighs but Max tutted. 

“Franco, hold her legs open” 

He obeyed, shuffled forwards and curled his hands around your knees to hold you in place. 

Unfortunately, that brought his face closer to your soaked folds and you could feel his cool breath down there. 

You whimpered and he groaned, leaning his head against one of your knees as he looked at your slick lips with a pained look on his face. 

“Don't you dare touch, Franco” Max growled “You need to learn patience” 

He was on three fingers already, and he was entranced by the way Franco's hole swallowed them greedily. 

He made quick work of lubing himself up and pushing into the younger man, who mewled at the stretch. 

“Jesus, you are tight.” He gritted his teeth as he pushed in to the hilt. “squeezing around me so good, maybe I should give up on her and just keep you as my plaything, hmm?” 

He gave an experimental thrust and Franco whined low in his throat as he looked up at you through lidded eyes. 

He looked so fucked out it was almost pathetic. 

But to be honest, you probably looked even worse. 

You squirmed against the bed, unable to get any sort of friction or stimulation as you were forced to watch Max rail Franco into the mattress. 

“You're fucking dripping” Max commented, finally glancing at where you could indeed feel the sheets under you becoming damp. 

He wrapped an arm around Franco's middle, shuffling him forwards until he was only an inch away from your soaked folds. 

“You want a taste Franco?” 

The younger man nodded as best he could with Max’s grip his hair. 

Max just chuckled and pushed Franco's face forward, allowing him to eat you out hastily. 

The sudden intense stimulation made you writhe under him, cursing as he sucked on your clit while his tongue delved into your wetness. 

“Fuck! Oh my god-“ you whined, hips trying to buck but Franco's hold on your thighs was too strong as he devoured you. 

As your moans increased in pitch, Max could tell you were getting closer and just as you were about to fall over the precipice, he pulled Franco's head back roughly. 

You cried out at the loss, and Max just chuckled, slamming his hips into Franco even harder. 

“Max please” you whined, and Max cooed in mock simpathy. 

He pushed Franco against you once again, revelling in the way he tightened around his cock at being manhandled like this. 

He angled his hips so that his cock pushed against Franco's prostate, and the vibrations of the resounding moan against your cunt got you right to the edge once again. 

But again, when Max saw your thighs start to tremble, he pulled on Franco's hair to separate him from you. 

Tears clung to your lashes as you were robbed of yet another orgasm, and Franco let out a loud moan. 

“I'm gonna come, Max!” he cried, and Max just picked up the pace of his hips. 

“Then come, I'm not stopping you” 

Once Franco had come down from his mind-numbing orgasm, Max pulled out of him carefully and rolled him over, making sure to avoid the puddle of cum now in the middle of the bed. 

Franco's eyes rolled back and his upper body slumped against the mattress as Max continued to pound into him while you watched helplessly. 

“You can go now, I will take it from here” he muttered as he handed Franco his clothes. 

You looked at Max. 

He looked at you on his way out, sending you a kiss before the door slammed shut behind him. 

He was making his way around the bed to come and untie you from the headboard. 

You weren't quite sure what to say to him as you stretched your arms. 

He walked into to the bathroom and turned the shower on, then poked his head around the doorway. 

“Come and join me”  

You got off the bed hesitantly. 

Was that it? Were you going to take a shower and then he’d leave? Or stay with you and talk? 

You weren't sure which option you hated more. 

You got to the bathroom and he was already under the water, cleaning himself without a care in the world. 

You approached him, putting an hand on his shoulder. 

“Max? Are you angry with me?” 

He huffed out a laugh. 

“No, why would I be angry?” 

He kept washing himself, and you had no idea what to answer. 

He had every right to be pissed after all. 

He looked at your confused face and chuckled. 

“No, I am not angry with you” 

You nodded, and he moved over a bit and pulled you under the spray. 

He pulled you against his chest and looked down at you. 

“I'm not angry, but I am sick of your games” 

You gulped. 

You could feel him against your hip, he was still hard. 

“You didn't come” you muttered, and he smiled. 

“Neither did you” 

Your heart was beating fast as you stared at him. 

“Are you planning to?” 

He nodded. 

“Oh yes. But you have a choice to make. Either I fuck you now, and we both come.” 

His hand came to cup your jaw as his thumb stroked your cheek. 

“Or, I leave right now, and you’ll never get to know how good you could've had it these past two years.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your cunt throbbed at the idea of finally getting to fuck Max. 

“Well?” his other hand trailed downwards to ghost over your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, to confirm that you were still soaked. “What will it be?” 

You gasped, head leaning back against the tiles of the shower wall. 

“Fuck me, please” 

He grinned. “That's what I was hoping for” 

He wasted no time turning you around and pushing into you roughly, your wetness easing the slide as he bottomed out on the first thrust. 

You both groaned, and he snapped his hips, determined to hear that noise again. 

He made you come twice like that, pressed against the shower wall as he took the frustration of the past two years out on you. 

He did indeed make you regret not giving in to him sooner. 

Later, in bed, you cuddled together after having changed the sheets. 

“So tell me Max. If tying me up and fucking Franco in front of me was option number two… what was option number one if Franco hadn't been here?” 

He chuckled, pulling you tighter against him. 

“If you had been alone, I would have tied you to the bed and left you there alone" 

You gasped. 

“and Franco?” 

“I would have fucked him anyway, to congratulate him for not giving in to you” 

You went silent. Thank god for Franco’s weak will. 

“Can I fuck him?" you asked "I really want to"

Max nuzzled into your neck and nipped at your skin. 

“Of course. As long as I can keep fucking you, I don’t really care” 

You hummed and turned your head, looking into his deep blue eyes.  

“Sounds good to me” 

He smiled, giving you a quick kiss before laying his head back on the pillow. 

“Me too” 

You giggled sleepily.  

Just like you planned. 

You had your best friend back, and two men were at your beck and call.  

[bigification]

Lumberjack - A TF Short

"Why did I need to come here dad?" You whine.

"This is important, son. It's a family tradition." He responds, clearly tired of convincing you.

"Look, I already told you a million times, I'm not gonna be a lumberjack like you." You try to plead with him as you enter the department store.

"Just give it a try, we'll start with some woodworking to get you started and if you still don't like it I'll stop asking." He says as he holds his hand out.

"Deal." You smile and shake his hand.

You're 99 percent sure you're not gonna like it, so maybe this will finally get him off your back about this whole family business thing. Your father is nothing if not honest, so it feels like a weight off your back that he might actually stop nagging you about it.

"Here we are." He says as you turn into the lumber aisle. "Why don't you grab a few two by fours." He asks.

It doesn't bring you joy, but you promised you'd give it a chance. You walk up to the wall of wood planks, scanning for which ones are two by fours.

"Not that one." Your father says with concern as you grab the wrong plank. "Just to the right."

Your hand wanders to the right until it meets a large two by four. You wrap your hand around it and try to pick it up, but you can't. You try a few times to lift it off the shelf, to no avail. Is it just too heavy? Are you really that weak that you can't even lift one plank of wood? That can't be right.

The silence is broken by a cracking sound coming from your hand. You watch in horror as your hand starts to grow, the bones cracking and reshaping as your palm doubles in size and your fingers become thick and calloused. It somehow feels comfortable holding the plank of wood now. Your hand is large enough to nearly wrap around the whole plank, and the callouses protect from the splinters sticking out of the wood. Why does it feel so... familiar?

You don't have to think about it though. As if it was spreading up from your hand. Your forearm grows thicker than your biceps and your biceps triple in size in an instant, ripping right through the sleeves of your shirt. Thick veins start to surface along the defined muscles on your arms.

Your other arm quickly follows suit, making you look like a cartoon character with massive arms and a tiny body. That wouldn't last long however.

Your shirt rips even more as your shoulders broaden with bulging muscles. Your flat chest suddenly bursts outward with muscle, quickly becoming two juicy pecs that strain your shirt to its limits. Your pudgy belly melts away to reveal a perfectly defined eight pack. Even your waist slims down, creating a perfect V shaped upper body.

The transformation has only just begun. You feel a tightness grow in your shorts. Your free hand wanders over to your crotch. Your dick feels much smaller down on account of having hands twice as large as before. Although you start to feel your underwear tighten as the bulge in your shorts grows and grows until it fits perfectly inside your massive man hands.

Your shorts continue to get tighter when your flat ass begins to rise like a loaf of bread, growing into two perky fat globes. It doesn't help when your thighs swell to twice the size, forcing you to spread your legs just to walk. Oh, and a man as well hung as you needs a pair of beastly feet to match. The straps on your sandals don't stand a chance against your Sasquatch feet, growing to a monstrous size 20.

Then the transformation finally starts to make its way to your head. Your neck thickens, your jaw widens, your nose grows longer, your brow bone sticks out more. Then it hits you. Your eyes widen as your brain starts to change. Everything you learned in university is gone in an instant and replaced with the memories of a real man, like your father. Axes, saws, and sex are all you know. Your brain also pumps your body with a surplus of testosterone. A light brown beard sprouts along your sharp jawline. It spreads down your neck to your pecs and along your eight pack. You keep the rest under check, but you would look like Bigfoot in a week if you didn't shave.

"You sure it's the two by fours you want?" You ask your father in a deep gruff voice.

There is an awkward silence for a moment.

"Son?" Your father says.

You turn to face him.

"Why don't you flex for me?" He asks.

It was a weird request, but you'll never turn down a chance to flex for someone.

"You've been hitting the gym, haven't you?" He compliments you.

"Yeah, I'm glad you noticed. Maybe you should come with me." You tease him by pinching the fat in his gut.

"You know I used to look just like you when my pops was teachin me. But us lumberjacks need to eat well to make it through the day." He chuckles.

"I'll be fine with chicken and rice." You respond.

"Oh, just you wait until I've got you workin in the forest with me. You'll be begging for seconds and thirds. Soon enough you'll look just like your old man." He continues laughing while he shakes his gut. "Now c'mon, let's get you in some real clothes. None of those shitty gym clothes." He says excitedly as he walks away.

[bakerstreet-and-beyond]

Hey please be careful in sharing things like this because a number of these things folks are claiming you can't search/get flagged since the Ban you very much still can search and or were things that were already being flagged for review BEFORE the 19th ...

Like- did we all forget talking about this over a year ago when there was a decrease in Pro-Palestine content due to outside suppression on the app or when real time Lives of fighting in Ukraine were being taken down? There's a reason why people on TikTok were using 🍉 and 🌻 instead of the flag or actually naming the countries.

Also the majority of negative comments being flagged about these awful people is because it contains the word "Fuck" which on Tumblr y'all've been dunking on how on TikTok you couldn't/can't say, "Fuck" "Kill" "Sex" "Die" etc in comments and descriptions for YEARS... Literally if you put those words in as tags, descriptions, captions or comments you get flagged; We've known this for A WHILE.

They took 170 MILLION users offline and then back, some issues people are reporting are literally growing pains of putting the servers in weird limbo life support after taking them down (technically the app is STILL banned) like the Live Feature needing about 24hrs to come back online and quality being nuked.

Certain users are missing or aren't uploading anymore because they deleted the app not because they are "Banned", which still since the app itself IS STILL technically banned, you can't re-download in the app store currently. We all thought it was the end and some actually deleted their accounts the day of because of how sure folks thought it was over.

Also the primary editing software people use for TikTok, Capcut, isn't back either because of this purgatory the app is in so people can't even make the videos they normally make too.

Under the cut here the actual results when you type in those terms into TikTok search and what I saw for Lives literally 48 hours ago

When Lives Feature came back on literally the first Live I got on my FYP was for a MLK Day parade and it was someone zooming in on a sign a little girl was holding that said "This is the Kings day, NOT his" followed by the next Live got was a gentleman walking around his neighborhood speaking in Spanish about how he's been up all morning checking out suspicious trucks in his neighborhood worried that they may be undercover ICE vans. Next Live I saw was someone talking about how no one can see her live and yet there was 5,000 people watching 🧍🏻the next video I literally got was a Luigi Update; unfortunately I didn't realize I should've taken screenshots of all this but also,

I'm in the US and not using a VPN, here are my results for the following as of 1/22/25:

The Radio Station only comes up as a banner at the top suggesting the account but, all the results are tho what you'd expect

These videos also are still here,

And this is what you get for searching "Fascism"

And our boi is still very much here

I hit my photo limit, but I implore you to type those terms in that supposedly have "no results anymore" and see they very much do and or realize that some things have already been removed well before the 19th

I really think letting us purposely spread that the app is now overly censored and the Meta buyout rumours is a tactic to further divide us. I really think, right now at least, the only thing they had to do was put "Thank You Donald Trump" in the return message, without having to actually change anything else, and then let folks go wild with the accusations, rumors, and conspiracies so then we all turn on the app ourselves and thus we won't cry about it being gone or that it gives us some falsely created moral high ground for deleting it/not using it anymore/etc and again will keep us more divided than together.

Literally this is destabilization tactics our government uses on other countries and it's own communities...

Thankfully there are creators on there who are also pointing this out as well as, just look at the comments on this post and you will see that others are saying, again in the US without a VPN you can still search these things in the post above.

It doesn't excuse the other fuckery definitely happening by any means but, they are letting us destroy ourselves and the 3rd space we created where we were the most united we've been on a platform in a while. They know how to push our buttons and we're all being played.

Already seeing people on tiktok saying “I still hate trump but he ate with this one” like … babes … you just got propagandized … that’s literally exactly what he created this situation in the hopes you would say …

[landososcar]

jump then fall ; ln4

chapter one — i’m feeling you, baby

— pairing(s) ; college basketball captain!lando norris x college tutor!reader

— summary ; in which lando was so worried about his grades falling, he didn’t realise he was too.

— warnings ; 1692 words, death of a parent (mentioned), alcohol mentioned, nothing else i don’t think!

— note ; longer note at the end but i know this is set in america but i refuse to write ‘mom’ instead of ‘mum’ idc who that bothers

masterlist , next

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

the library was not a popular hangout space on a friday night for many of the people i go to school with — i know this because i'm one of the few people who regular the two story building.

tonight, like most nights, my corner of the library was deserted. a few students sat scattered across the first floor, scrolling through their phones or cramming for last-minute deadlines, but upstairs, where i always worked, it was silent. the kind of silence that wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing and distracting all at once.

i had just opened my laptop and pulled out my notes for monday’s tutoring session when i heard the unmistakable sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.

i looked up, half expecting a lost freshman wandering in search of the printers, but what i saw instead almost made me freeze.

lando norris.

he was hard to miss — tall, broad-shouldered, perpetually disheveled in that annoyingly effortless way athletes always seemed to master. his varsity basketball jacket hung loosely on him, and his backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder. he didn’t belong here. not just because he was the school’s golden boy or because his team was undefeated this season, but because lando norris had a reputation. parties, games, and the occasional appearance in class—those were his natural habitats. the library was not.

he stopped a few feet away from my table, glancing down at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, then back up at me.

“are you y/n?” he asked, his voice deep but tinged with uncertainty.

i blinked at him, trying to piece together how he even knew my name. “uh, yeah. why?”

relief washed over his face, and he shoved the paper into his pocket. “good. i need your help.”

i arched an eyebrow. “with what?”

“passing calculus,” he said, flashing a grin that was somehow both charming and exasperating.

i stared at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. “calculus,” i repeated, as if saying the word out loud might somehow make this whole interaction make sense. since when did he care about passing classes?

“yeah.” he dropped his bag onto the table across from me with a soft thud and sank into the chair. “i have no idea what’s going on in that class. coach says i’ll be benched if i don’t pull my grade up, and the professor said you’re the best tutor on campus. so, here i am.”

my brain took a second to catch up. calculus wasn’t exactly light reading, and the idea of tutoring lando norris—someone i’d only ever seen surrounded by teammates, fans, or beautiful women—felt surreal. i’d heard his name in passing a hundred times, seen him on flyers for basketball games, but this was the closest i’d ever been to the school’s star athlete.

and now he wanted me to help him?

“why now?” i asked, leaning back in my chair, my brows furrowed. “the semester started months ago. you’ve just realized you’re failing?”

he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “something like that. look, i know this is probably the last thing you want to be doing on a friday night, but…” he paused, his hazel eyes meeting mine, almost pleading. “i really need this… i can’t be benched—it’ll ruin my shot with scouts, you know?”

i wanted to say no, that i didn’t understand. i had other students to tutor, i had my own workload, and honestly, i wasn’t sure if he was the type to take tutoring seriously. but something in the way he looked at me—equal parts desperation and genuine hope—made me hesitate.

“i don’t know,” i said slowly, closing my notebook. “do you even have your textbook with you?”

he froze. “textbook?”

i sighed, already regretting this. “yes, textbook. the big, heavy thing with equations in it? you’re going to need one if you want me to help you.”

“right, yeah. got it. i’ll bring it next time,” he said quickly, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “so, you’ll help me?”

i hesitated, weighing my options. if he failed, it wouldn’t just be his grade on the line—it’d be his position on the team, and judging by the way he was looking at me, i got the feeling basketball wasn’t just a sport to him.

“fine,” i said, crossing my arms. “but i’m not doing all the work for you. you show up on time, bring your materials, and actually put in the effort. if you don’t, i’m done.”

his grin returned, wider this time, and he nodded enthusiastically. “deal.”

“—and i charge $35 an hour.” he nods, muttering something about anything is fine and i hold back the urge to roll my eyes at him, “good. then i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” his face fell slightly, like he hadn’t expected this to start so soon.

“yes, tomorrow,” i said firmly, “i have to fit you in between other students whenever i can, and if you want to pass, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. be here at eight.”

“eight a.m. or p.m.?”

i narrowed my eyes.

“got it. eight a.m.,” he said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. he begun to get up from his chair, slinging his bag over his shoulder before he paused, “actually…” he looked at me sheepishly, “i’ve got training from six-thirty until eight, can we meet here at eight-thirty?”

i scoffed and his face looked as if he regretted asking, “eight-fifteen, i can’t do any later. i’ve got training at nine-thirty.”

his eyes furrowed at my mention of ‘training’ but before he could ask any questions i continued, “goodnight, lando,” i said, and he nodded his head, beginning to walk out of the library.

“night, y/n.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

the cool night air hit me as i stepped outside the library, the faint hum of campus life echoing in the distance. a group of students passed by, their drunken laughter bouncing off the pavement as they stumbled around, but i barely noticed them. my thoughts were still tangled up in the unexpected turn my evening had taken.

lando norris. calculus. tutoring. it felt surreal, like i’d just stepped into someone else’s story for a moment.

i adjusted my bag on my shoulder and headed toward the front of the school where the large forever-open gates would lead me home.

the walk home wasn’t far—just ten minutes away from campus—but it gave me enough time to collect my thoughts. as i turned onto the street where i lived, the familiar weight of responsibility settled on my chest.

as i made it to the apartment building, i prepared myself for the three flights of stairs ahead of me—thanks to the elevator doors that still held the ‘out of service’ sign. i unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeted by the sound of soft giggles and the faint hum of the tv.

“y/n!”

my five-year-old brother, lukas, came barreling down the hallway, his tiny socks sliding across the hardwood floor. he launched himself into my arms, and i dropped my bag just in time to catch him.

“hey, buddy,” i said, ruffling his messy curls. “did you have a good night?”

he nodded enthusiastically. “we had chicken nuggets, and i beat the boss level in my game! liam helped me.”

i glanced up as liam, our neighbor’s teenage son and occasional babysitter, appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile. “he insisted on showing me his video game skills,” liam said, shrugging. “and he was pretty good.”

“thanks for staying late,” i said, shifting lukas onto my hip.

“no problem. he’s a great kid,” liam replied, grabbing his backpack. “anything else you need?”

“no, we’re good. i’ll text you about next week,” i said as he headed out the door.

once it was just me and lukas, i carried him to the couch and set him down. “it’s bedtime,” i said, giving him a stern look.

“five more minutes?” he asked, his wide eyes pleading.

i sighed, already feeling the exhaustion from the day creeping in. “five minutes. then brush your teeth.”

lukas grinned, turning his attention back to the cartoon on the tv, while i went into the kitchen. the sink was full of dishes i hadn’t gotten to this morning, and there was a pile of unopened mail on the counter. i leaned against the counter and rubbed my temples, trying to ignore the growing list of things i needed to handle.

between my classes, tutoring, and my part-time job at the diner across from campus, i barely had enough hours in the day. add taking care of lukas to the mix, and it felt like i was constantly teetering on the edge of burnout. but i didn’t have a choice.

after mum died two years ago, it was just the two of us. dad hadn’t been in the picture for years—not that it mattered. i wasn’t about to let anyone else decide what happened to lukas. he was mine to protect now.

“y/n?” lukas’ small voice pulled me from my thoughts. he stood in the doorway, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“yeah, lukey?” i asked, straightening up.

“are you okay?”

i forced a smile. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?”

he tilted his head like he didn’t quite believe me. “you look sad.”

my chest tightened, but i crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “i’m not sad,” i said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “i’m just tired. but i’ll always have time for you, okay?”

“okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around my neck.

as i hugged him back, i thought about the crumpled bills in my wallet, the overdue rent notice i’d stuffed into my bag, and the tutoring session i’d somehow agreed to with lando norris.

i had no idea how i was going to balance everything, but for lukas, i had to, “let’s get you to bed, luke.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

— longer note ; ignore me starting a new series when i’ve only posted 3 chapters of my other series lollll umm sorry. anyways im so much more excited and motivated to write for this story so ‘packing it up’ can wait til im interested in her again im sorry.

— taglist ; im open to making one if anyone’s interested ahhahah

[scarnatlover]

Run, baby, run

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (romantic)

Summary: Finding a moment of peace away from the chaos of superhero life isn't easy, but with a little help, you can carve out time for a romantic retreat in a secluded cabin in the woods. What begins as a lighthearted chase soon transforms into an exhilarating game of predator and prey, sparking intense passion and desire between two lovers.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. sexual themes, smut, Reader has a cock, predator x prey, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, edging, name calling, praise, passing out, aftercare.

REQUEST: YES

A/N: I'm sorry if anything is spelled incorrectly, but English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for my grammar and spelling. If you have any request (read this first), I will try and write them.

Taglist

She had been running for what seemed like hours. She didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t know the route she had taken, and she didn’t know where she would end up. The forest she was in seemed endless. There was no stream to orient herself by, and the treetops were too thick to see the stars. She could hear her labored breathing, her quick steps, the owls hooting in the trees. But most of all, she could hear whoever was behind her and chasing her getting closer and closer.

Their footsteps were heavier than hers, but their breathing matched hers. She could tell that whoever was following her was taller and more muscular, but not more agile since she heard them trip over some fallen tree branches. She also knew that they were far behind her and that this gave her an advantage. And so she did the only thing she could think of. She hid behind a massive rock after jumping off its top.

She held her breath, trying to stay as quiet as possible, but she jumped as soon as she saw the figure dart over her head, then rolled on the ground to cushion the jump and immediately resumed running. She was right, actually. Even from a distance they looked about four inches taller than her and decidedly more muscular. She breathed a sigh of relief and, once she was sure they were far enough away, she stood up and began to run at a moderate pace towards where she thought the exit of the maze of trees she was in was.

But after walking a few meters, she started to feel like she was being watched. She turned in every possible direction, but there was no one but her. She started walking again, the feeling of being watched always with her, but she turned again when she heard a twig snap behind her. After not seeing anything or anyone, she prepared to start again but this time, when she turned, she found your muscular figure in front of her. “Boo” you muttered, a smile plastered on your face and your arms that wrapped around her hips.

“Are you running away from me, pretty girl?” you asked, backing her up against a tree trunk. “Why are you running, baby girl? You know I’ll always catch you.”

And with that you kissed her, hard. Her back against the tree made your body pressed against hers, making her feel your hard cock against her belly. Her hands flew into your hair, pulling you closer. You moaned into her mouth, enjoying her hands on your head, and she smiled slightly into the kiss.

Your violent kisses ran down her jaw and neck, pulling her skin with your teeth. She moaned in pleasure and pain, without letting out a gasp first. She could feel her arousal dampening her panties, yet she remembered that this person in front of her was the one who not even ten minutes ago was chasing her through the same woods where she was about to be fucked.

Your hands traveled to her breasts to feel one of her spheres through the shirt she was wearing. Being the impatient person you were, you quickly shrugged off the piece of clothing, ripping it in half. There, you were met with her bare tits, no bra covering them. You smirked, easier access for you.

You lowered your head to take one of her nipples into your mouth, licking it until you felt it harden under your tongue, your other hand still busy groping her other tit. You then switched sides, repeating the same movements and giving the same attention to both of her tits. Her back arched, pleasure coursing through her. Her hands still in your hair to hold you closer to her chest and instigating you not to stop. She laughed briefly feeling you play with her nipples, but immediately moaned when you bit one of them.

You both watched your fingers slide along her skin, down past her belly button, and stop above her pelvis. You looked into her eyes as you slowly knelt in front of her. You pulled down her leggings, but left her panties on. With a smirk, you moved them to the side and slid your hand to her pelvis between her legs. You caressed her folds, parting them slightly so you could see her arousal before sliding your fingers inside her.

She moaned and leaned her head against the tree trunk, completely surrendering to the feeling of your fingers inside her. She let your hands and fingers explore her body, both inside and out and in all the ways you wanted.

“God, you look beautiful even from down here,” you murmured, starting to slowly move your fingers inside her. She groaned at the sound of your voice, so low, husky and sexy, full of your desire for her body. Simultaneously, your mouth began to leave hot kisses everywhere it could reach: her thighs, her belly, her pelvis, until you lightly kissed her clit.

She gripped your hair in her hands as your lips touched her hot clit and whined. Her hips began to move back and forth on your fingers. “That’s it. Ride my fingers like the good girl you are. My good girl.” You pinned her hips against the tree so you could slide your fingers deeper into her. You started slow and gentle until you built up to a force and speed that rivaled – not really – your cock. “Good, just like that. You’re doing great.”

Your tongue laid flat against her clit, her eyes rolled and her mouth made sounds sweeter than honey. Her entire body jolted with pleasure as your tongue flicked at her bundle of nerves. Your fingers slowed, making her whine, but the movements of your tongue made her hips buckle, your hand on them the only reason she didn’t fall to the floor.

Her moans grew louder, louder, her body shaking with pleasure and the need to come, as you brought her closer and closer to the climax. As you continued to tease her, she moaned in frustration and writhed beneath you. With each passing second, her need for release grew stronger and stronger due to denial. You took your time, pleasuring her until she was begging for more.

“Please, let me come. I beg you,” she pleaded, her eyes locked on yours, her green ones filled with desperation.

You quickly removed your tongue from her slit and stood up, now much taller than her, but your fingers never stopped moving inside her. “I’ll tell you what,” you whispered in her ear. “I’m going to let you go now. You’re going to start running in that direction again, until you see a cabin. I’ll give you a twenty-second head start before I start chasing you,” you removed your fingers from inside her, drawing out a whine from her throat. “If I catch you before you get to the cabin, I’ll fuck you until you pass out and it’s up to me whether or not I make you come. If you get to the cabin and I can’t catch you…” you gently kissed up her neck, until you reached her cheek. “…when I fuck you, you can come as many times as you want,” you concluded, placing your sweatshirt on her shoulders and lifting her pants, to cover her nakedness.

As soon as those words left your mouth, she started running again in the direction you indicated, faster than before despite the ache between her legs. She could smell you on her, her pussy clenching around nothing even as she ran, but most of all your voice, which was counting the seconds, growing more and more distant.

The forest seemed endless, she didn’t know how much longer she had to run. There was no sign of the cabin you had told her about. She was starting to doubt its existence. Her legs were burning and with them her muscles, the temperature had dropped slightly, but it was cold enough to notice the air coming out of her mouth every time she was out of breath.

She stopped to rest only when she was sure that your footsteps couldn’t be heard, but she remained alert anyway. She collapsed on the ground, her back against a tree, she caught her breath and looked around, but she couldn’t see anything. Her ears couldn’t pick up any suspicious noise, other than the wind in the branches of the trees and a few night birds here and there. Not even a shadow of you could be seen.

When she was sure she was rested and had enough breath, she started running again, always in the same direction you had told her. She ran and ran and ran, until she could see a light far away from her. She breathed a sigh of relief and increased her pace. Now she could also see inside, with the fire lit in front of the couch and under the TV, thanks to the windows that acted as a wall on the outside of the house.

But just as she was approaching the path that led to the stairs to enter the cabin, out of nowhere she glimpsed your figure staring at her from a tree. Nat returned your gaze for a few seconds, and then sprinted towards the house, but you wrapped your muscular arms around her waist before she could touch the wood of the stairs.

“That means…” you murmured in her ear as she squirmed. “That I won, sugar.” You took her earlobe between your lips and bit it enough for her to feel it.

You slowly brought a hand to her face and turned her towards you, kissing her without hesitation. She immediately found herself returning the kiss that became more and more passionate. Her head was spinning and you pulled her towards you roughly, making her feel your semi-hard member. Your tongues rubbed together. Her hands returned to your neck while yours continued to move down and then back to her breasts and grope them roughly.

You quickly removed the hoodie she was wearing and kissed along the column of her neck, leaving purple marks as you went further down, your hands now massaging her ass. You backed up with her, leading her up the three steps to the wooden patio and setting her down on the cool surface. You ripped a hole in her pants, then did the same to her soaked panties.

“Look at you, sugar,” you turned your gaze to her pussy. “Your swollen, soaked cunt, still clenching around nothing,” she whimpered, the cool night air in direct contact with her wet, exposed sex. You ran two fingers between her folds and brought them to her mouth, letting her taste her essence. “You need it, don’t you? You need to be stretched, ruined, and used like the whore you are for me.”

You pulled down your pants and boxers, letting your cock pop out, pumping it a little to get it fully hard, which didn’t take long given the magnificent sight before you. You leaned over her, your hands on either side of her head, staring into her beautiful green eyes filled with lust.

She kissed you harder than before, nipping at your bottom lip, making you groan into her mouth. She suddenly felt a lot warmer, wondering if she was really about to get fucked on the wooden patio of a cabin by the person who had been chasing her ten minutes ago. But her mind went blank the moment she felt one of your hands spread her thighs, making her wet pussy meet your now painfully hard cock.

You positioned the tip of your cock so that it was prodding at her entrance and at the same time you pulled away from the kiss to watch her facial expressions. She immediately gasped and her back arched towards you. You slowly pushed it in, feeling her warm and tight around you. “Fuck, are you still this tight? After so long?” you asked a rhetorical question.

You took her hands and brought them above her head, pinning her down, and leaned down to kiss her slowly. You started moving, rocking your hips harshly. She gasped first into your mouth, then broke away from the kiss and began teasing the sensitive skin of your neck. You moaned in her ear, increasing the force of your thrusts, the only sounds that could be heard at that moment were your breathing and moans and the wet sound that Nat's pussy was making.

At this point you were ramming into her, whispering in her ear how pathetic and desperate she was. “Look at you, beautiful. Taking everything I’m giving you like the slut you are,” you moaned in her ear, feeling her shivering and whimpering beneath you. You could feel her getting closer to her climax, but you had other plans.

“Please,” she whispered, running her hands under your shirt and digging her nails into your back. “Let me come,” she continued with a few tears rolling down her soft face. You just grinned and continued to rock your hips fast and hard, her walls squeezing you tighter and tighter, making you groan once more.

Immediately, you slowed down and looked down at where her cunt met your cock, which was fully immersed inside her, filling her completely. She sobbed, her orgasm having been denied for the second time that night, and she began to shake even more. After a few minutes of your thrusts being soft and slow, making her feel every inch of your cock, you started moving your hips violently again, her cries of pleasure could probably be heard from miles away. Her body was aching, from the run she had been on and how you had left her in the middle of the woods, and her moans were now coming out uncontrollably. Her legs were shaking, her eyes scrunched shut and you could feel how close she was to cumming.

You continued to do this until she was a blabbering mess, the only things coming out of her mouth were pleas and moans of your name. “Tired, baby? You can’t take it anymore?” you asked, slightly worried. You looked at the expression on her face and it all hit you. You started to ram into her one last time, intertwining your hands with hers above her head and kissing her sensually and softly. “Can I come inside you?” you asked, feeling the knot in your stomach about to break. She just nodded, too tired to even respond.

Your climaxes came at the same time, her coming on your cock with the loudest moan of the evening and you painting her walls white, filling her with your seed. Her pussy contracted around you for the last time, making you groan in her neck, where you were resting your head, which you raised a few seconds later to look into her eyes, but instead you saw her passed out from exhaustion. You smiled gently at her and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

You carefully slid out of her, trying not to hurt her, and got dressed, but first you watched your cum leak out of her gaping hole. You then picked her up bridal style and the two of you entered the cabin, which felt like a sauna compared to the outside. You continued to the stairs and carefully carried her to the bedroom you were in. You laid her on the bed and ran to the bathroom, where you drew a hot bath. You quickly ran to the kitchen to get her a bottle of water and a snack for later.

When you got back to your room, Nat was waking up. You were immediately at her side, stroking her hair. “Hey,” she whispered to you and you smiled, telling her that a bath was ready for her. “Can you carry me?” she then asked and you rolled your eyes playfully and picked her up in your arms, carrying her to the bathroom and placing her in the hot water. You handed her the bottle after opening it and helped her take a few sips.

Nat looked at you puzzled when she noticed that you were not undressing and getting in the tub with her, but instead grabbing the shampoo ready to wash her hair. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked and you looked at her in disbelief before answering her.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to hurt you,” you started, looking at the water instead of her face. “I think I overdid it a little,” you continued. Nat pulled her hands out of the water and placed them on your face, looking into your eyes.

“I liked everything you did, from the chase in the woods to the fuck on the patio. I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me,” she wiped away the single tear that was sliding down your face with her thumb. “Get undressed and come in. I want you even closer to me,” and with that you took off your clothes and Nat made room for you between her legs, where you stayed until the tub water was cold.

The two of you dried off and got dressed, exchanging a few kisses here and there. Once you were in bed, Nat immediately curled up around you, her head on your chest and one leg bent over your hips. One of your hands slid under her shirt, touching her bare skin, while the other reached for the remote on your nightstand and you scrolled until you found her favorite James Bond movie on the TV.

Nat fell asleep not even halfway through the movie, her breath on your neck, where you could feel her smile as she slowly massaged your abdomen, tracing her fingertips over your abs. You looked up at her softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face like you had done a few hours ago. You fell asleep shortly after her, hoping that Tony hadn't installed cameras on the patio too, otherwise neither of you would ever see the end of it.

[kouzih]

You're fucked.

Nam-gyu ( Player 124 ) x gn!reader .ᐟ

warnings : smut is all i'm gonna say . . ( cockwarming, unprotected sex, semi-public sex )

tags,, @gongyoosgf @cybrasigilism @paulilvsremus

requested by anon! idk what the word count is..

( sighs..why did this take so long to finish..no proofread tho.. )

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The images on the big screen and some people pleading to release them said it all. You were wondering how people could be so stupid and still manage to get this far. As if seeing their pathetic and whiny ass wasn't enough, the person you were trying so hard not to see was here too. Even from his repulsive voice, you knew he was here. Technically he didn’t speak, it was just that his presence here made you uncomfortable the moment you heard him chuckling at the others.

You could tell by the way he looked around with his hair tucked behind his ear and how he enjoyed watching people embarrass themselves. Because that's how it was when you first started dating. He hadn't changed at all. The way he looks at people..how he puts his hands over his mouth..and that expression on his face when he sees someone familiar. You weren't sure if he saw you or not, your view was already limited and the number of people in front of you must have prevented you from being seen as well. After looking in your direction for a good minute, he crossed his arms and brought his eyes back to the big screen.

Oh, how you hated those looks of his. Realizing with your own eyes that he was here made your blood boil even more. You sighed, your situation here was about to become even more unbearable.

Some people had already split into groups before the games started, and you went to mingle with the crowd while praying you wouldn't see him. As you stare at people with your arms crossed, your eyes go to the sound of someone clicking their mouth. Your eyebrows furrow as you look indifferently at the person the voice is coming from. Nam-gyu, who was looking down at you with his head raised, had his hands lazily stuffed into his pockets and tilted his head slightly to the left, causing some of his hair to fall from his face. The tips of his lips curve upwards and lean slightly to the side. "Are you desperate enough to end up here?" "It's funny to think that you have the right to speak out because you're in the same situation." You throw the words back in his face without even letting him finish. He raises an eyebrow at you, giving you a judgmental look. But none of that applies to you; you already know what the fuck he is.

"Our little abstract's ego has never diminished, I see."

"This is coming from someone whose ego is bigger than his dick? Hah. Don't make me laugh."

"Shut the fuck up." You realized he was clenching his hand in anger, but you honestly didn't care. Talking to the being in front of you not only got on your nerves but also gave you a headache. You didn’t miss his voice one bit. As you search your eyes for people who seems at least better than others, you realize he's taking a stubborn breath. "What? Didn't you asked me nicely to shut up?" You could have sworn he rolled his eyes on impulse. That thing he always did when he was so done.

The tension in the atmosphere was starting to bother you, so you took a step forward, passing Nam-gyu and the other people. You were so unlucky because everyone you tried to talk to was either a complete moron or a snob. As the games started, they were pulling everyone to a different area. An area where there was a giant doll and everything else was completely..empty, the top was open and a scorching heat was hitting your face. A man who you hadn't noticed before stepped forward and shouted something about the danger of the game and how you would be eliminated. Even though you couldn't hear what he was saying very well, you chose to stay in the middle rows. The front and back could be dangerous.

When the giant doll standing at the end of the platform turned her head and started talking, you understood what the game was at that moment. The man who spoke earlier, player 456, is trying to guide the others in the front and that catches your attention, and you listen to him even though you would do your own thing. You knew that when the it was red light, you had to stay still. You stood a little to the side, making sure there was no one in front of you or behind you. Suddenly you heard a screaming coming from the front and the sound of a body hitting the ground. You witnessed people around you screaming and trying to run towards the back, even though it made you flinch, you didn't move an inch. You see everyone lining up as the man shoutsz, deciding that it's something you can't handle on your own, you join them.

You freeze when a familiar touch caresses your back.

"We met again, huh.."

"Are you thirsty for death?"

"I could eliminate you right here, right now, if I wanted to."

Your voice stopped when Nam-gyu said that. He chuckled as if he heard you swallow. As soon as you reached the end of the line, he pushed you away. He ran after you, causing the sand splashing on you. He nearly made you fall to the ground but you managed to keep your balance. You snapped at him loudly. "Hey! What was this for??" "Dunno, being a spoiled brat?" What did he imply by saying this? You guys already broke up and he was still deciding what you could and could not do..You noticed his fingertips tracing the corner of his lip, he didn't say anything else as he looked at you sideways. You'd like to talk about it, but not until you see the time is up.

As they lead everyone back into the room you were in before, your eyes searched his body. You weren’t going to forget what he did right away, he should have realized that what he did was childish but it was also something that put your life at risk. You took a step towards him when you noticed where he was,but it seemed like he had already found someone to hang out with before he went inside. You chose to let it go so as not to be stubborn any longer. "Ugh..man."

Ohh, great. As if it wasn't enough to make a lot of people suffer, now they make you to vote too.. To stay or leave here. If possible, you would prefer to stay here. It seemed more logical to you to leave with a larger sum of money. Until your ex appeared in front of you. The person you assumed was his friend behind him left to talk to others, while Nam-gyu clears his throat. You bite your cheek and glance at him, not really understanding why he came. He started talking to you, His voice was monotonous yet threatening. "You're gonna vote 'O', alright?" "Excuse me?" He approached you while sucking his teeth, supporting his waist with one hand. "You're gonna press 'O', otherwise.." He waited for you to confront him as his eyes took on a darker look. But you chose not to answer him, you knew he would only get angrier that way. "You're fucked." His voice was quieter, but you knew exactly why he spoke like that. He was trying to make you feel small underneath him.

When it was time to vote, you were actually both nervous and excited. Even if he hadn't come and threatened you, you would have still chosen to stay, but you had a strange feeling inside you. When you see that the path in front of you is empty and everyone is waiting for you to walk, you gulp unnoticed and walk towards the buttons. As your hand moves towards the tip of the buttons, your head slowly turns towards where your ex is.

You notice him making a circular motion with his hand as he smiles at you with his eyes. As Nam-gyu signals for you to press the button, your head turns back to the lights in front of you and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

No. It doesn't feel right to press 'O'.

Especially after he came.

Your hand suddenly presses the button with the red light, and after waiting for the pink soldiers, you move to your side. Your eyes involuntarily turn to him. The moment your eyes met, it made you flinch. You frowned and shook your head slightly, trying to get your hair out of your face. You knew this wouldn't end well, but you weren't about to just do what he said. You were sure that they would be the side that won the vote. Why would people who are so greedy for money choose to go? And just as you thought, they were the winners. You followed your own path as you watched everyone take their places, but the sound of footsteps getting faster and louder stopped you in the middle of the room. With a curse under his breath, you were pushed roughly against the nearest bed rail, Nam-gyu practically hissing at you as he narrowed his eyes at you. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His hands around your neck made it hard to breathe, and when you try to move your head, he causes you to hit the metal behind you again. He looks down on you, dragging you under him. "You better talk before I fuck your brains out."

You had nothing to say to him, it was your decision anyway. When he sees a few people gathering around you, he takes his grip off you. "Fucking brat.." His voice was a whisper loud enough for you to hear it. You started to caress your neck, brushing your hair back with one hand as you cleared your throat. Before you can stand up and start walking, you hear a few people asking you if you're okay. "Yeah, I'm fine." You walked slowly to your bed as you followed his path to his own bed. You have to wait until everyone is asleep or when people are too busy to care about what you're doing.

And finally you get an environment where everyone is quiet. You slowly get up from your bed and tiptoe towards Nam-gyu's bed. The lights in the middle of the room were gently hitting your face, making your presence known, but when you looked from afar, he didn't look awake. You slowly got up onto his bed and covered your mouth with one hand, pressing one knee to the edge of the bed and started to climb onto him without making a sound.

Nam-gyu threw his head to the side, mouth slightly open and he let his hair fall onto the pillow. You weren't quite sure what to do exactly, but your eyes wandered to his bare neck. You swallowed, slowly bringing your hand closer to his face. You held on tightly to avoid making a sound when his lips suddenly curled upwards and grabbed your wrist, covering your mouth. 'Cause of his grip, your face fell towards his chest, your knees touching his waist. When you try to lift your head you feel his hands holding the back of your hair, pulling your head tightly he forces you to look at him. His voice was a heavy whisper. "And what were you exactly planning to do, huh?" All you could see in the darkness was his toothy grin and his eyes that looked like they were going to eat you alive. You tried to say something with your muffled voice, but his grip almost covered your nose too. You placed your hand on the sheets to balance yourself, your neck was in a very uncomfortable position and Nam-gyu wasn’t about to release you.

Seeing your helpless state, Nam-gyu's smile widens, a small giggle is heard from him. He lets go of your wrist until he's in a sitting position on the bed, not taking his eyes off you as he sucks on his teeth. "What? Did you suddenly become so shy?" You forget that his hand is still over your mouth as you shake your head to the side, and he grunts as if he’s thinking as he silently watches the sounds you make against his hand. He uses his free hand to pat his lap, your eyes darting to the side to make sure no one is watching but he suddenly pulls you into his lap. "You were always this stubborn..You don't know how to obey when someone tells you to do something." He throws his head to the side and speaks hoarsely, watching your hands fall to your sides as he adjusts your position.

You could pretty much guess how this was going to end.

You remained silent for a while, waiting for him to pull his hand away. He slowly pulls his hand away, smirking with his eyes. You let out a warm breath as Nam-gyu pulls his hand away, he watches you swallow as he wipes his went hand over your clothes. "..I knew I shouldn't have come." "Is that so?" His hands slid down to your hips, his grip tightening with each second. "Yeah." It was clear from your voice how you felt about him. He pulled you closer to him as your hands followed his fingers. "You are so damn annoying." "So are you?" "At least I'm not a spoiled brat." He could tell by your face that you were nervous, but sitting on his lap was making your body warmer.

"I fucking hate you." You hissed at him, letting out a shaky breath. Moving might not be a good idea, you were making enough contact with the tent beneath you. "Our feelings are mutual." He presses you tighter against him, making a moan escape your lips. "But your body seems to love me." His eyes met yours for a second. His ego was way too high right now. "Still." His thumbs lift your cardigan up, revealing your bare skin. He stops at the hem of your sweatpants, dragging his nails over your skin. You feel yourself squirm under his touch, his hands stopping you as you find yourself lifting yourself up. "You always care about your own pleasure, bitch." He pushes you towards his legs, making his own position more comfortable. He opens his legs slightly, revealing the wet spot created by his tent. He taps his leg against you while gesturing with his eyes for you to take off your sweatpants. Before you could open your mouth to refuse, his hands grab your sides and lower them. You squeal at the sudden hit of cold air on your skin, he grabs your back and pulls you closer to him. "I'll be the only one enjoying this night, not you." You could see the precum on the tip of his cock as he used his leg to lift you up a little and lower his down.

Before you can prepare yourself, his hands are on your waist and he lifts you up, placing you on the tip of his cock. "Wait-" "Shush." "But-" "Fucking hell." His voice was loud enough to shut you up. You had already taken him in without even realizing it. As your hands reach out to grab him, he stops you by grabbing your wrists with one hand, keeping you in place with the other hand by holding your wrists in the air. You begin to feel your body shaking, his hand moving from your waist down to your belly as you resist moving yourself. You bite your lip as his thumb presses against your belly. You shouldn't make a sound. As you digs his nail more into your skin, you tilt your head down, causing your hair to fall out. A few purring moans escape your mouth as your hands tremble in the air. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, and it was obvious he was enjoying it. His eyes don't leave your body as a few breathless moans leaves his lips.

All he did was hold you in place as you cursed at him under your breath so you could move. "What, you didn't like your punishment?" When you heard the word punishment, your body involuntarily began to squeeze him even tighter. He whistled lowly and brought his face closer, feeling his breath next to your ear causing you to lift your head slightly.

"Your voice is so fucking annoying..god, wish I could make you lose your voice."

His voice was muffled and sounded like he was holding himself back. When he doesn’t get an answer from you, he throws your wrists aside and forces you to look at his face with his grip. "Cat got your tongue? Or are you embarrassed that the person you hate is fucking you?" "S-shut..up.." You want to speak to him through your teeth, but his grip prevents you from doing so. When you feel his hips start to move, you quickly bring both of your hands towards your mouth. You wouldn't want anyone to see this, do you? He releases his grip on you and moves one hand to the sheets next to him, so as not to lose his position. When he starts to move, tears start to flow from your eyes, and because you weren't prepared, the pain overwhelms the pleasure. You feel your body shaking as your face falls slightly towards his shoulder. You realize that your body is trying to follow his rhythm, even if it's unintentional. As his rhythm quickens, the sound of your skin hitting each other starts to get louder, and even though the feeling of embarrassment didn’t make your body any hotter, doing it with him made you angry at yourself.

Tears were now starting to flow down your cheeks, Nam-gyu noticing that his shoulder was starting to get wet, placed his hand behind your head again to pull your head up. "I'm not your boyfriend whose shoulder you can cry on anymore." You find yourself suffocating as you swallow, your eyes refusing to stay open and you’d have already lost your balance if it wasn't for his grip.

As the press continued to roll, his insults at you continued, about what a whore you were and how you didn’t even deserve his dick. "No one deserves your body, you fucking know that?" You couldn't decide if what he said was jealousy or anger, your only concern was not passing out. He didn't slow down at all, even though your face was covered in sweat and you couldn't fix your breath. You could feel him finishing inside you but he didn't seem to stop. His grip was moving down to your neck as you were trying to pull yourself together. "If I had lost my temper so easily, you wouldn't be here right now." Your eyes are tightly closed and your mouth is half open as you follow his rhythm while your legs try to support you. "T-that's enough..ah- didn't you finish already..?" "Not enough to satisfy myself." You swallowed hard after feeling another orgasm inside you, you tried to lift yourself up thinking he would stop, you opened your eyes slightly, trying to look at his face. He was biting the corner of his lip lightly while his hair was stuck to his face and cheeks. He paused for a moment and slightly opened the front of his cardigan. When he looked at you with that smirknon his face, you wanted to cry with anger.

"You're not going anywhere unless I'm fucking satisfied."

"..Fuck you."

"You'll have to save that for next time."

[gurugirl]

guru, i have a requests bc I need something ✨fluffy✨ as im healing from closing my fingers in my front door!!

could you write any harry au finding out that the reader is in paramore and wrote the only exception for him?

Oh my gosh your fingers! Ahh I hope you didn’t break anything! 😬

Feel better soon hon ❤️‍🩹 Enjoy! (also I hope this is what you wanted )

A/N: I didn't mention Paramore specifically (except for some bits of the song) nor are there any physical descriptions of Y/n so it's inclusive! Imagine who you like! xoxo

Word Count: 1,174

Warning: FLUFFFFFFFFYYYY SWEET! (Harry has a quick moment of anxiety)

. .

Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking at when he saw it. Maybe you were just playing a joke on him—? He always thought your singing voice kind of reminded him of a band he'd heard on the radio a few times… but this?

There you were on video. Right in his phone... wearing a very short skirt hopping around on stage like that. You were usually more of a jeans and t-shirt or sweater gal. It was clearly you–but it was like watching a doppelganger of you.

He blinked his eyes at his screen. His apartment was quiet as he was just waking up and still sitting in his bed. It was a normal morning routine. Wake up and check social media, emails, his daily schedule…

He had no idea how this had come across his feed. You. Like that. He rubbed his eyes. Was he still dreaming?

You hadn't been dating all that long but you were both already head over heels. It'd happened so fast and there was still so much to learn about one another but he knew you were it just like he hoped you felt the same. He knew you had a band and he'd heard you sing. You had guitars at your place and you wrote poems and lyrics in your notebook all the time. You were talented.

A text popped up on his screen from you.

See you in five minutes!

Scooting himself out of bed so he could at least brush his teeth he clicked on the page that had posted the video and there were more! Of you! Of this band that he'd heard of in passing. He held the phone up and started watching the next video. You were singing for a semi-large crowd. He pressed the button on his electric toothbrush and felt his heart thrumming harder and harder as you started singing another song. A song he'd heard on the radio.

It was surreal to see you like that. Why hadn't you told him? Why was he finding out like this? Did you not want him to know? Did you not see a future with him at all?

The questions in his brain were buzzing as various puzzle pieces began to fall into place. It made so much sense now that he was thinking of everything but it also had him worried that you never told him. Maybe you didn't trust him.

When he was done brushing his teeth he splashed water on his face and pressed his palms over his sink counter. He was going to have to confront you.

He looked down at his phone and clicked on the next video. The most recently uploaded video.

"I'm Y/n! Thank you for being here with us tonight!" The crowd was loud and he could hear some whistles and cheering.

"This next song is about a guy that I'm falling for hard. It wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't think it ever would. I haven't told him yet but I have this song." You began to sway as the guitarist started to play. "This is for love. For anyone who's felt it. This is for Harry."

He blinked at the screen and you began to sing.

"When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind..."

Harry was startled when he heard you knocking at his door. You were there and he was reeling from everything he'd just learned. Pausing the video he made his way to his door and opened it to see your pretty face. You immediately stepped in and wrapped your arms around his middle for a big hug.

He hesitantly placed his arms around you after he closed his door. But you noticed something was off. Harry was still holding his phone in his hand as you looked up at him.

"Everything okay?"

He looked like he was unable to put thoughts into words. Like he was stunned or hadn't expected to see you, even though you'd made plans to come over. Stepping back you clutched your hands over his wrists. "Harry?"

His throat bobbed when he swallowed and he blinked his eyes. "You're famous."

Your heart stopped. You knew he'd find out soon. You'd planned on telling him but it was always tricky telling people. You'd dated people in the past that were just looking for clout or trying to get there own name out there by using you. So it was a precaution. But you didn't need to hide it from Harry anymore.

"Yes. Well... kind of. I mean... a lot of people don't really know who I am. I'm not like at that level of fame but—"

"You don't trust me?"

"I do trust you, Harry. I promise." You slid your palms up his forearms and stepped in closer. "I was going to tell you. I just got a little scared because everything happened so fast between us. It just... I wanted to make sure first. I swear I've been planning to tell you because I... god... I just want to tell you everything."

"I don't understand why you never said anything." He shook his head but he didn't pull away from you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out before I told you. I wanted to share something really special with you and tell you in this like... really romantic way."

He moved his arm and opened up his phone before you heard your song being playe. The song you wrote for him. His eyes flitted from you to his phone as the lyrics you sang poured out around you.

Because none of it was ever worth the risk... Well, you are the only exception...

Harry looked at you, a sheen of tears in his eyes as he let the song play out. You kept your hand on his forearm and let the lyrics do the talking. You just hoped he understood. You hoped that he could see why it took you a bit to work up to telling him.

Oh, and I'm on way to believing…

He tucked his phone into his sweatpants pocket and looked at you with soft eyes. Taking his hands into yours you smiled up at him.

"I have a lot to tell you."

He puffed out a low laugh. "I think that's an understatement."

"Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head. "Kind of hard to be mad after hearing that song you wrote for me. Is all that true, Y/n?" He pulled his hand out of yours and lifted his warm palm up to your cheek.

"Yes. Every word of it."

"Does that mean you love me?"

Your heartbeat tripped up on itself as you nodded. "I do. I love you."

His eyes were piercing and so deep with emotion, you'd drown in them happily. "I guess it's time for me to confess something to you then, too." He grinned and you felt his hand move back to cradle your nape. "I love you too."

. .

@yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @tiaamberxx @closureesny

@angelbabyyy99 @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @onlyangellucifer

@harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @lc-fics @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads

@harrrrystylesslut @elidoho @gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

@tiredinwinter @angeldavis777 @lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo

@brittanyzelazno @lemoncrushh @caynonmoondreams @mellamolayla @ladscarlett

@heartateasee @littlenatilda @finelinepie @michellekstyles @harrysredroom

@harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994 @devilsqueen722 @bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

@idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies @fruity-harry @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @mema10

@gmikaelson

[thewertsearch]

GT: Well ive thought about it. GT: Even went downstairs to check the great vaulty doodad. GT: And predictably the infernal contraption is nowhere to be found. TT: Well yeah, Jake. TT: That's sort of the point. TT: Thrill of the hunt and all.

Ok, I think I get what's going on here.

Jake's Dreambot is probably the last remaining source of uranium on the entire island, and the AR is turning its retrieval into a game of hide-and-seek.

I'm not sure why Jake hadn't already retrieved this particular chunk of uranium, especially since he has no use for the robot himself. Maybe he was keeping it operational for sentimental reasons?

TT: I thought you liked to manicure the image of a dude who shits his pants over a good adventure. […] GT: I mean i wouldnt put it in a way like that or come out against a solid policy of clean trousers. But yes adventure is awesome. GT: I just prefer the idea of adventures which i can actually win.

Jake's picturing a LIVING GRANDSON SMACKDOWN - and, frankly, so am I. That robot's being piloted by an absurdly advanced AI, and I'm pretty sure Jake doesn't have any combat experience.

Winning, in this case, is shorthand for 'waiting for the AR to take pity on you'.

TT: It seems there is a 76.10395784% chance you are pussying out on me. Are you pussying out on me, Jake?

Now, to be fair, that one would only work if Jake had agreed to this challenge beforehand. After all, you can't pussy out of something you never pussied into.

GT: It seems it seems it seems!!! GT: It seems there is a million percent chance that you say it seems way too much and do it just to sound more like a lame robot from a movie and also probably just to piss me off! […] TT: Have you ever stopped to think that while I may be bound to processes inside the glasses of a real and incredibly cool guy, my algorithms in cognitive totality comprise a conscious entity not far short of the experiential and emotional complexity of a human being? GT: Oh malarkey. GT: YOU ARE A TIN CAN. ROBOTS DONT HAVE FEELINGS.

Jake, it's been sixty seconds since you complained about him pretending not to have feelings.

TT: I do have feelings. And you're shitting on them. TT: It sucks. GT: Oh. GT: Um. GT: Im sorry then if thats the case.

Well, that's something, at least - but I don't think Jake really understands why the AR is offended, so I'm worried it's just going to happen again in their next argument.

How long has the Responder existed for, anyway? Jake seems familiar with his schtick, so he's probably not brand-new - but at the same time, Jake's surprised apology makes it sound like the AR has only recently started to express feelings.

Maybe the AR has existed for years, but hasn't been sentient for years. Like, it really did just start as a primitive response script, but Bro kept uploading more of his personality onto it, until it slowly began to think and feel. Fascinating idea, I have to say.

GT: It can just be difficult to drum up sympathy for a program that presents itself as an impostor so often. GT: Maybe if you werent so ready to insist you were the genuine article all the time? Or didnt make it so confusing for me… GT: I think it would be best if we henceforth treated you as a totally distinct… uh… THING from my buddy.

Hey, it's not like the AR can stop imitating Bro. Even if he wanted to have his own identity, he's currently bound to the response script of someone else's Pesterchum account. When he talks, he's forced to do it through Bro's handle.

All evidence points to the Responder being a thinking, feeling being with his own inner world - which makes it a little ethically dubious to force him to be Bro's secretary. The guy shouldn't be treated as a bargain-bin Bro, the same way that Davesprite wasn't a backup Dave. We all saw how that ended, and it sure wasn't pretty.

[selkie-on-land]

I always saw this quote ''trauma it's your fault but it's your responsibility to heal '' used to blame victims of male violence, especially in the militant/new generations. It goes usually with this bs ''if you don't work on healing you're just a an abuser and a predator exactly like men are ''. But it's the same rhetoric and literally same sentence that ''if you don't report/press charge on this abuser, you're just a an abuser and a predator exactly like men are. And if they abuse someone else, this on you not on them. '' and they usually goes hand in hand. Like every time I've seen someone said/wrote one, they always have already said the other one too. And it's always said in response to a woman testifying/open up on her abuse.

It goes hand in hands with this one too ''you're an abuser to share your abuse like that. You're literally traumatising and abusing everyone who is going to read you. You're not a feminist/victim you're just like any man. You should be ashamed of yourself and fix it before damaging every woman that you speak to. This is just trauma dumping and this is very wrong, this is an abuser tactic. ''

Until now, I was too emotional/triggered to think about that in an analysis process because I have a lot of cptsd from those types of response when I tried to talk about some of my abuse. And it deeply traumatized me to the point where I'm now unable to open up about any of my abuse except if the subject is already opened up. Even in therapy btw, because I'm deeply convinced that if I do I'm going to abuse my therapist.

To the point where I'm wondering if all three are not actually the same thing or part of the same thing. Maybe that thing has a name, but I can't find it. If you do, please, I would gladly know it!

I think that this is victim blaming but in a very specific manner, that seems to be different than the one usually spread, and maybe silencing victims voice but I don't know it feels like I'm missing something ? I thought about DARVO ? But darvo is used by an abuser on his victims not from an external source, right? Or maybe I don't know enough about it.

I received this type of comments/abuse from younger and my own generation (90s), never from an older one. And I mostly received this in space made for speaking out your abuse, like Call for testimonies for this or that violence, in every single ''feminist'' space ivl as irl.

Even now, here, I'm not comfortable with writing this down because I was always also assaulted when I was calling out this type of behaviour so it's very sensitive for me. It's been half an hour since I'm spiraling into anxiety to post or to delete everything. I know I shouldn't feel that way. I know that this is wrong. I'm wrong I know. But it's eating me from the inside. Why ? Why am I struggling like this, usually I don't, I don't even care of what people might think of what I wrote. But here I'm just freezing because I know, statically, it's absolutely certain that I'm going to be assaulted and abused if I click on the reblog button and I don't want to be assaulted or abused. So the only way to be sure I won't is to not post this. I hate myself for just such pity like I feel like I'm exactly what they refer to when they talk about victim personality that self pity etc. Oh fuck off Anna and post it anyway!

Edit : it lasted 4 hours. I had to put in private because I was (and still am) in a big anxiety attack and autistic meltdown due to the pressure and anxiety of waiting to see when the assault I'm waiting is going to happen. (Also waiting mode from my autism). I hope I will be able to let it that way and won't have to delete it. Also wish I could just let it be as all my other post. But obviously I'm too traumatized by women in ''feminist'' space for that.

crazy how trauma isn't your fault but it's your responsibility to heal.

[redroomreflections]

Paint It Black Chapter 2 - Fractured Authority

Teen Natasha Romanoff x Teen Reader

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has never known love—or at least, that’s what she tells herself. During her time in the Red Room, she encountered a girl whose memory was forcibly erased from her mind. Now, as an Avenger, she faces a new enemy who turns out to be more than just a threat; they share a tangled history that challenges everything Natasha thought she knew about herself and love.

Chapter Summary, Reader disrupts Natasha’s rigid training routine, introducing her to small acts of rebellion while hinting at the dangers of being Dreykov’s favored.

W/c: 5k

A/N: It only gets rougher from here

Warnings: This is a dark story, so read at your own risk. Mentions/hints of SA, violence, guns, and abuse. We're exploring the Red Room and Natasha's origins, kind of.

Mornings were for intensive training. A rigid schedule kept the girls in line. It wasn’t like the mornings back in Ohio, where cartoons blared at full volume and Yelena sang along to every theme song, her voice bright and off-key. Here, the only sound is the low buzz of chatter, conversations Natasha couldn’t bring herself to join. No Yelena, no music, just the restless shuffle of girls preparing for the day. She hadn’t seen her sister in months.

Natasha sat on her bunk, head down, wrapping her hands with sharp, practiced movements. The gauze bit into her fingers, the tension grounding her. She wasn’t focused on anything in particular. Couldn’t keep her mind from going every which way. It was just one of those days. 

“I would like to fight y/n,”  A girl by the wall stood out, leaning with her arms crossed and a smirk that’s too sure of itself.

Natasha didn’t look up. She didn’t have to. The girl’s voice was sharp, cocky, the kind of bravado that gets broken quickly here. Natasha tugged the wrap tighter around her hands and tested her fist. No mistakes. Not today.

"Not a chance, she's Dreykov's girl. Have you seen her fight? That's too dangerous," A second voice replied, belonging to the girl Natasha knew as Lorna.

Natasha had heard the rumor about you and your fighting style. The other girls' whispers and snide comments were more unbelievable than the last.

"I heard y/n's parents are in prison; war criminals. The authorities don't know what to do with her, so they put her here," The pixie girl said. "She's the only one of us whose parents have a known place, and they still don’t want her."

"Really? I heard her dad died in a freak accident when she was a kid, and now her mom is sick or something. I don't know. Y/n barely speaks. Do you think they're trying to fix her here? Make her into the perfect weapon."

"Whatever, I just know if I'm fighting anyone, I want to fight her."

Just then, the door swung open, and a stern-faced trainer stepped inside, his presence commanding immediate silence. “All recruits to the evaluation room,” he barked, his voice echoing off the cold, sterile walls. “Now.”

The girls scrambled to their feet, and the atmosphere was suddenly tense. Natasha stood, her heart racing as she glanced at her bed. It could be the last time she saw it.

She followed the other girls along the hallway and into the observation room. As Natasha stepped into the room, the sterile smell of antiseptic and sweat hit her, a familiar scent that had become synonymous with the Red Room. Rows of hard plastic chairs lined the walls. Recruits whispered among themselves, but Natasha’s gaze was immediately drawn to you, standing amongst another group of girls.

Your posture was confident, though Natasha could see the tension in your shoulders. You stood tall, facing the front, your hair framing your face as you watched Madam B. approach the center of the room. The older woman radiated authority, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor as she strode forward.

“Welcome, recruits,” Madam B began, her voice smooth but chilling. “Today, we’ll be evaluating your progress and pushing your limits. In the Red Room, we teach you to fight and prepare you to survive. You will learn to harness your skills, not just for the mission, but for the kill.”

A shiver ran down Natasha’s spine at the coldness of Madam B's words. She’d heard this speech before, the hollow promises of strength cloaked in a veneer of empowerment. But beneath it all lied the stark reality of what they were being trained to do.

Madam B. scanned the room, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Today, I need a demonstration of what you’ve learned. Y/N!” she called, her tone suddenly commanding.

Natasha’s heart dropped as you stepped forward. “Yes, Madam B?” You replied, your voice steady.

“You will demonstrate your fighting technique against one of our newer recruits. Let’s see if you can handle the pressure.” Madam B. gestured toward a girl Natasha recognized from the dorm, one of the less experienced recruits who hadn’t had much training yet.

A ripple of surprise flew through the group of recruits, and Natasha could see the uncertainty on your face. But you didn’t hesitate, and within seconds, you were both standing in the middle of the room, squaring off against each other. Natasha's mind raced, and she felt her palms beginning to sweat as she watched the scene unfold.

Madam B. stood to the side, observing the two of you closely. The recruit lunged, and you ducked and weaved, the two of you falling into a natural rhythm. Something was mesmerizing about how you moved, your movements precise and controlled, as if you were dancing rather than fighting.

Suddenly, the recruit landed a blow to your abdomen. You stumbled but regained your composure quickly and retaliated with a swift kick to her leg, knocking her off balance. As the fight progressed, you gained the upper hand, landing blow after blow until the recruit was backed against the wall, defenseless.

Your fist flew forward and landed squarely on the girl’s jaw, and the sound of bone crunching echoed in the small room. The girl crumpled to the ground, and Madam B. ambled forward, her expression unreadable.

There was a sudden, intense pressure in Natasha’s chest, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something felt wrong. It all felt wrong. 

"Kill her," Madam B. demanded from you.

"What?" You asked.

"You heard me. Kill her. That's an order."

There was silence, and then the recruit let out a strangled cry. Her hand reached up, blood dripping from her mouth. "Help me, please!" she whimpered. It was a mistake allowing her to fight you. 

For the slightest second, you hesitated. Your hand tightened around the knife tucked into your belt, but the movement was barely perceptible. "No," you finally replied, your voice steady. "I won't."

The room eruptd into surprised mutters and gasps, and Natasha watched in horror as Madam B. struck you across the face for your defiance. "Disobedience will not be tolerated!" she shouted, her voice raw with anger. "You've been spoiled. You think your place here is valuable."

She’d struck you again and your lip split. Your only confirmation was the taste of copper coating your tongue. 

Natasha's eyes never left you as Madam B's next strike was more brutal. She couldn’t look away, even as the room filled with the sickening sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Almost like it was personal. 

Finally, the blows stopped, and the room fell silent again. Your harsh breathing unsettled them. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath. 

Madam B. turned toward the rest of the group. "Widows," she said, her voice dangerously low, yet commanding. She was a leader. "We must be ruthless in our pursuit of perfection. Only those who can handle the pressure are fit to serve the Red Room. Anyone who falters will be eliminated."

The meaning of Madam B's words were clear: those who can't survive will kill or be killed. 

Madam B. towered over you, her heels clicking as she circled like a vulture. Her voice was sharp and clipped, cutting through the tension in the room. “Y/N, you have failed to meet the expectations of the Red Room. Do you even comprehend what that means?”

"That's enough," A voice with chilling authority caused every head to turn.

You sat on your knees, staring at the floor, your breath ragged. Blood dripped steadily from your chin, pooling on the hardwood. The ache in your body made it hard to hold yourself upright, but you refused to fall. Not here. Not in front of her.

The weight of her words hung in the air until the door creaked open.

Silence fell.

His presence filled the room before anyone even dared to look. The sound of measured footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, like a ticking clock counting down.

Dreykov didn’t say a word as he approached, but every girl instinctively straightened, their eyes dropping to the floor. He stopped just in front of you, his polished shoes catching the faint light.

Your gaze flickered up, only for a moment. A dark suit, pressed to perfection. Rings glinted on his fingers, gold and heavy. His face was expressionless, but his eyes... they pinned you down, dissecting you like a specimen under a microscope.

He knelt slowly, his hand brushing your cheek, his thumb smearing the blood there as if studying it.

"Stand," he said finally, the single word low and heavy.

Madam B. stiffened beside him, stepping back as if to blend into the shadows. You rose to your feet, your knees trembling, the iron in his voice giving you no choice but to obey.

Dreykov adjusted his cuffs, his movements precise and unhurried, before turning to the rest of the room. He didn’t need to raise his voice. His silence was command enough.

"She's my best girl. She deserves a second chance," He stated.

"With all due respect, General, I believe she is a liability. Her disobedience is a threat to the program."

The General didn’t flinch. "Let me worry about that," He said. His tone was firm, but there was a hint of something else—an underlying anger impossible to miss. "I've already given my orders. Y/n is a valuable asset. She's not going anywhere."

Madam B's expression remained unchanged, but there was a subtle shift in the room's energy. She gave a curt nod, her displeasure evident.

"Yes, sir," She replied, her tone clipped. She watched as Dreykov’s fingers pressed into your chin, tilting your face up to scrutinize you. His gaze flickered over your expression, but your eyes remained carefully blank, giving nothing away. Natasha watched for a brief, disorienting moment, wondering if he was almost…fussing over you. 

There was something in the silence that made Natasha feel like she could finally breathe again.

"As for the rest of you," The General continued. "This is your first and final warning. Don't disappoint me."

With those words, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing through the silent room.

Madam B. snapped back into action the moment he was gone, barking orders and arranging the next fight. Natasha couldn’t help but look at you again. She went to reach out and help, but something held her back. You were a liability.

And for some reason, Natasha didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

***

It was late, the moon hanging low in the night sky. The next time Natasha saw you, you had bandages on your cheek. She didn’t dare to talk to you. Instead, she kept her distance, watching from afar as you walked through the cafeteria, her curiosity piqued.

But Natasha wasn’t the only one keeping tabs on you. Everywhere you went, you were watched. Rumors flew, and the older girls made their distaste known, casting you looks full of venom. You didn’t notice. The bandages on your cheek starkly contrast your skin, a physical reminder of the earlier evaluations that had gone wrong. You sat alone at a table, your gaze fixed on your untouched plate of food.

As the seconds passed, Natasha’s worry deepend. You brought a fork to your lips, but your hand trembled slightly, and the fork slipped, clattering against the plate. You winced at the sound, your shoulders tensing as if the noise was a reminder of the eyes on you. Glancing around, you caught a few older girls snickering, their whispers loaded with disgust and malice. The venom in their gazes fet like a physical blow, and Natasha saw your posture shift, the slightest crumple of your resolve.

You took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, but Natasha saw the flicker of hurt in your eyes as you stared at your food, willing yourself to eat. Your appetite has vanished, replaced by the gnawing anxiety from being at the center of whispered rumors. You pushed your food around the plate; the motions were mechanical and lifeless. 

 She shouldn't have cared so much. She knew you could not be friends.

But still, Natasha did.

She wanted to know your story. She wanted to know you.

*******

The training room was a different beast than the evaluation. The stakes were higher than ever, and after that day you battled, the competition was fierce.

Natasha sat on the bench, wrapping her wrists again. As the fabric covered her knuckles, her attention shifted to you.It seemed like you were everywhere.

You were standing by the punching bags, practicing your technique. You were quick. Powerful. Precise. Natasha watched as you hit the bag repeatedly, your movements fluid. 

She was about to approach you when ‘pixie-cut girl’ beat her to it.

"Hey," Pixie cut girl said, her voice smug. "Nice work out there."

You paused, glancing over at her, your expression unfazed. "Thanks," you replied, a hint of skepticism lacing your voice.

"But seriously," the pixie-cut girl continued, stepping closer with a challenging glint in her eye. "How do you get away with so much? Dreykov's favorite and all that. Must be nice to have special treatment, huh?"

Natasha held her breath, unsure how you’d respond. 

You straightened your back, the confidence radiating from you. “It’s not about getting away with anything,” you said, your voice steady and assertive. “I’ve just learned to make the most of what I have. This place tries to break you, but I refuse to let it.”

The pixie-cut girl raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Is that so? Sounds a little naïve, don’t you think?”

Natasha bit her lip. She wanted to see how you would handle this situation. 

"Maybe," you replied, an edge to your voice. "But I'm not the one making excuses for my poor performance."

A ripple of murmurs echoed through the gym, and the pixie-cut girl's cheeks flushed pink. She stared at you, her jaw clenched, the tension between you building. Natasha felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a chill running down her spine.

She'd seen this scenario play out before. It was a precursor to disaster, a ticking time bomb.

"You're right," the pixie-cut girl said, her tone dangerously calm. "I haven't been giving it my all. But maybe I should." She stepped forward, her fists clenched. "You wanna spar? Let's go."

Your gaze shifted from her face to her hands. "I don't need to prove myself," you stated, your voice calm and confident.

"Oh, I think you do." Her grin was cruel, her eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam. "We saw what happened with your last match. You're not a widow."

The jab hit you hard, and Natasha could see the briefest glimpse of pain on your face before you schooled your features, the mask of indifference returning. "No, but I am a recruit. And I know how to fight."

"Well, then, let's put it to the test. Unless you're scared."

The challenge hung in the air, and the other girls waited with bated breath.

"You don't want to do this," You shook your head. "Whatever hangups you have about me. Put them to rest."

"Don't tell me what I want."

You gave her a hard stare, then sighed, rolling your shoulders and flexing your hands. "Fine," you muttered.

“Tatyana,” One of the usual girls she’s with called to her. 

“No, it’s time someone puts her in her place.” Tatyana said. 

The two of you stepped forward, squaring against each other, the tension crackling between you. The older girl moved first, throwing a punch which you dodged easily. It's then you got angry. Not necessarily at Tatyana. But at the system. At the fact that you had to fight every single day of your life. 

You struck, aiming for the older girl's face, the force of the blow sending her reeling backward. Tatyana staggered, catching herself, then charged again, her shoulder colliding with yours, her momentum carrying the two of you to the ground. You were a blur of movement, both grappling for the upper hand.

Natasha watched, her pulse racing. The older girl landed a few blows, but you were relentless, throwing punches and kicks as fast as possible. You were on the offensive, fighting with a ferocity and determination Natasha had never seen before.

She was captivated.

The sound of a blow landing drew her focus, and Natasha watched as the older girl stumbled back, her lip bleeding. "You'll pay for that," Tatyana growled, her expression feral.

"I'd like to see you try." You threw another punch, and Tatyana blocked, countering with a kick to your leg.

The two of you were locked in a stalemate, neither willing to give ground. You were a whirlwind of fists and fury, the older girl's movements growing more desperate.

Suddenly, Tatyana threw a wide punch, her arm flying past your face, the momentum unbalancing her. A fatal mistake.

Your hand snaked out, grasping the older girl's wrist, and you twist, bringing her to the ground. Within seconds, you're on top of her, pinning her down.

"This isn't worth it," You muttered, your voice low and menacing. You know what you have to do now. You know what they want from you. “Whatever you have against me throw it away. If you know what’s good for you.”

"Get off me," Tatyana spit, struggling under your weight.

"I'm trying to save your life," you replied, your grip tightening.

The older girl glared up at you. She knew she was cornered. She knew what happened next.

"You have a choice," you continued, your tone cold and uncompromising. "Survive or die."

Your words hung in the air, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone in the room. The choice was clear. You know that if Dreykov or Madam B. Caught wind of this,you would suffer. The guards on one side of the room seemed to ignore all this happening. But the other side. The girls in the other corner were watching.

Tatyana hesitated, then nodded her defeat.

"Good." You released your hold, rising to your feet. “Next time, I won’t be so merciful.” 

The older girl scrambled up, glaring daggers at you. She brushed off her uniform, her gaze never leaving yours.

Natasha stared at you, her heart pounding, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

You're the one to beat.

Tatyana sulked, her glare lingering but her steps faltering as she retreated to the other side of the room. The watching girls averted their eyes, murmuring amongst themselves. Natasha didn’t move, frozen in place, her mind racing as she tried to process what she’d just seen. 

“You did not have to do that to her,” Someone challenged. Another girl from your class. 

“Это всё,” A woman’s voice said in Russian, her tone icy and final. That’s over.

The words cut through the air like a whip. The watching girls froze for a split second before breaking apart like scattered birds. No one lingered; no one dared. The crowd thinned as they slunk back to their stations, their whispered chatter fading into the background. Even Tatyana, still seething, shot you one last glare before disappearing into the throng.

The room seemed to exhale, the buzz of drills and muted conversations resuming, but Nora’s focus never wavered. Her gaze fixed on you, cold and unrelenting.

“You,” she said, her voice sharp enough to make you flinch. “Come.”

The command was curt, absolute. Without hesitation, the remaining girls stepped aside, parting like water to make way as Nora turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

You glanced at Natasha out of the corner of your eye. She stared back, her face pale, her expression unreadable. You didn’t have time to dwell on it. Nora didn’t wait for you to follow—she didn’t need to.

As you trailed after her, the murmurs behind you faded into nothing, swallowed by the sterile hallways of the Red Room.

You didn’t say anything as she led you into the empty room. The silence between you was thick. You couldn’t escape that antiseptic smell. You sat on the bed, back straight, arms folded across your chest, eyes following the motion of her lab coat as it swayed with every movement.

She moved efficiently, methodically, gathering supplies without sparing you a glance. Her hands were quick, but steady, like someone who had done this a thousand times before.

“This is my second time patching you up this week,” Nora commented casually, her voice holding a hint of frustration but not quite pity. She turned to face you, her hazel eyes meeting yours for the first time since the confrontation. Her expression was unreadable, a practiced mask of professionalism.

You stayed silent, your lips pressed together in a thin line.

Nora shook her head slightly, as if disappointed, but she didn’t push further. Instead, she set down the bandages she’d been holding and picked up a sterile wipe, her fingers moving with precision as she began cleaning the gash on your cheek. “You’re reckless,” she muttered, but there was a sense of reluctant admiration in her voice.

You couldn’t help but let out a short, bitter laugh. “Reckless?” you echoed. “Isn’t that what they want from me?”

Nora didn’t answer right away. She worked in silence, her brow furrowed as she focused on her task. Finally, she spoke, her tone softer this time. “Not like this.”

You glanced up at her, caught off guard by the slight change in her demeanor. “What does that mean?”

She paused, meeting your gaze once more, and for a brief moment, you saw something flicker in her eyes—something human, something more than just the cold, professional persona she wore so well. A look she usually reserved for you. 

“Don’t make it easy for them,” she said quietly, almost as if she was speaking to herself more than to you. "You’re worth more than that."

You didn’t respond. There was no need to. You knew exactly what she meant.

"You're not my mother." You swiped her hand away from your face, the motion sharp and angry, but it didn’t seem to faze her.

She didn’t argue, didn’t react with anger or defense. Instead, her eyes softened, a brief flicker of something almost tender in them. She dropped her hand to her side, giving you space to breathe, space to cool off.

"No," Nora’s voice was quiet, almost sad. "I'm not."

The silence hung between you, thick with the weight of unspoken words. She didn’t press, didn’t try to make you talk, and for a moment, you almost felt a flicker of gratitude.

But you quickly buried it.

"Just... just do what you need to do," you muttered, turning your head away from her, focusing on the dull flicker of light overhead. Anything to avoid looking at her.

You weren’t sure what kind of words you wanted from her—maybe none at all. Maybe you just wanted to be left alone.

****

You were cocky, but she knew it was just a mask. She’d seen those rare cracks in your composure, moments when the swagger faded and something more vulnerable flickered beneath the surface. The other girls didn’t like you, and Natasha understood why. You were fast, smooth, and relentless in training; you never faltered in evaluations. No one could beat you.

But you were distant, never lingering with the others. Natasha often saw you slipping away, and she knew where you went. Dreykov kept you close.

It was another week she'd survived in the Red Room. The atmosphere in the evaluation circle was tense and charged with anticipation as the girls surround the mat, their eyes focused on the center. Natasha stood with her heart pounding, a cocktail of fear and adrenaline surging through her veins. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath as she watched the trainers move among the group, assessing each girl with a critical eye.

“Next up,” a trainer barked, breaking the silence. “Romanoff versus Mikhailova.”

Mikhailova, the girl she’s up against, strode confidently to the center. Natasha knew her by reputation: fierce and unyielding, a girl who thrived on intimidation. The two of them stood face to face, both about the same size; Mikhailova was only an inch taller and a year older.

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation, but she knew the fight was inevitable.

Mikhailova smirked, her gaze sharp and calculating. Natasha braced herself, waiting for the attack. Mikhailova stepped forward, her confidence radiating from her as she smoothed her hair, a bright red ribbon tied neatly at the back of her head. They were both just girls, barely teenagers, yet here they are, pitted against each other in a brutal test of strength and skill.

And it came. Mikhailova struck first, a blow to Natasha's abdomen. The pain was immediate, but Natasha pushed it down, and her determination to survive pushed her forward.

The fight escalated quickly, both girls throwing punches and kicks, their movements fluid and instinctive. Mikhailova was a skilled opponent, but Natasha was quick, and her reflexes were sharp and precise. The two of them were well matched, the battle raging on for what seemed like hours, but both girls were determined to win.

Mikhailova threw a punch, and Natasha ducked, countering with a swift kick to the older girl's shin. The older girl faltered, and Natasha seized the opportunity, slamming her elbow into the older girl's chest.

A flash of pain crossed Mikhailova's face, but she recovered quickly, grabbing Natasha by the throat and pinning her to the ground. Natasha's eyes widened as the older girl's fingers tightened around her neck, cutting off her air supply.

As the seconds passed, Natasha's vision blurred, the edges fading to black. Her lungs burned, her chest heaving, the struggle to breathe growing more desperate with each passing second. She fought, trying to free herself, but Mikhailova's grip was too firm. In a final attempt, Natasha made a move that made the older girl loosen her grip just enough for her to slip free.

Natasha gasped, taking a deep breath, her lungs burning. She was on the ground, her heart racing, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had to do something that she couldn’t come back from.

Her hand closed around a knife that's been tossed aside. Without a second thought, she drove it into Mikhailova's leg.

The older girl screamed, collapsing to the ground, her blood pooling on the floor.

The room was silent, the shock of the attack reverberating.

Mikhailova glareed at Natasha, her eyes full of hatred and pain. They know what happened next. Natasha's hand didn’t even shake. She quickly removed the knife from Mikhailova's leg, and the older girl let out a muffled cry, clutching at the wound.

"Put her out of her misery," One of the trainers demanded.

Mikhailova looked up at Natasha, her expression a mixture of fear and defiance. "Do it," She growled, her voice thick with anger and pain. "End this."

Natasha paused, her mind racing. The knife felt heavy in her hand. This was where you and Natasha differed. For her, if she said no, there would be no one to save her. You had the General. She had nothing.

So she did.

She plunged the knife into Mikhailova's heart.

The older girl gasped, her eyes widening as the life drained from her body.

Natasha stared down at her body, the realization of what she'd done sinking in. The blood rushed to her ears as she forced herself to remain upright. Her first kill. She'd done it.

"Congratulations, Natalia," Madam B's voice cut through the silence.She sounded almost proud. "You've proven yourself."

The older woman's words sent a chill down Natasha's spine.

Natasha looked up, her eyes locking with Madam B's, the older woman's gaze cold and calculating. "Don't get too comfortable," Madam B. continued.

Natasha didn’t respond. She looked down at Mikhailova's lifeless body again. Dedicated her face to memory. She had freckles.

The thought was fleeting but enough to bring her back to reality. She knew she's just won an important battle. But the war was far from over.

"Clean up," Madam B commanded.

Natasha's gaze snapped up, and she nodded, the movement mechanical and robotic.

She sknew she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, the consequences would be devastating.

********

In the shower, Natasha cried quietly to herself. She couldn’t stop thinking about Mikhailova. About the look in her eyes as she died. She'd been trained for this. She was a widow in training. This is what they do.

But it didn’t feel any better.

Minutes passed, she wiped away the tears and straightened her shoulders, her resolve firming. She couldn’t afford to break. She dressed quietly, ignoring the girls stepping in and out of the shared shower room.

Her mind was numb as she walked down the hallway, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared.

"Y/n," Natasha whispered.

"Natasha," you replied, your tone equally soft.

"How are you?"

You hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing your face. "Fine," you stated, your expression guarded. "You?"

"Same," Natasha answered, a lump forming in her throat.

You both paused, an awkward silence filling the space between you.

"I should go," Natasha said, her voice quiet.

"Wait," you replied.

Natasha's eyes met yours, and for a moment, the tension faded.

"You did great," You continue, a hint of pride in your voice. "Dreykov is pleased."

"Thanks," Natasha replied, her cheeks flushing.

"You deserve it," You added.  Before she could walk away you turned to her. "It's always hard. Your first kill." You elaborated.

"Is it?" Natasha asked, the question slipping out before she could stop herself.

"No," you replied, your tone somber. "I've found that the second one is worse. One time is an order. The second time is a choice."

"Oh."

The weight of your words hung in the air, the truth sinking in.

"Be careful," You added. "It will only get harder from here."

"I will," Natasha answered.

You give her a curt nod and turn, disappearing down the hall.

[cockettechris]

𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 － 𝑪.𝑺.

divider by: @bernardsbendystraws

Summary: Chris was well known, in the porn world that is. He didn't really care what anyone else thought he had a good job and that's all that mattered to him. It never really got brought up that often but tonight when everyone is around their friends and intoxicated, you decide to change that.

Pairing: pornstar!Chris x reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, choking, recording the boombyah, chris being hot, idk what else

A/N: this is based off of the conversation I had with @cvnntagious ps!Chris bot, please go check her stuff out🙏

The cold leather couch felt cold on your legs, goosebumps trickling your skin. The sexual topics being brought up made you uncomfortable to say the least. But why should it? You're an adult. You shouldn't feel uncomfortable with this type of stuff.

You being you, you didn't talk. Your "closed off" body language wasn't noticeable, or so you thought. You thought no one noticed until Chris himself spoke up "C'mon ma, don't tell me this is disturbin' you or somethin'." Oh god. That nickname, you fucking hated it when he called you that. Despite the wetness growing between your legs.

"No I'm alright." you said softly, though Chris didn't believe it. "I think you're full of shit, but you're sure?" he said in a soft tone that almost, almost, made you wanna go down on him. "Yeah, why? Did you ask something I didn't hear or?" he chuckled in response, "Nah, just noticed ya look tensed up or something. You're not used to these kinds of conversations?" you smiled softly, "Not really, it's not everyday I hang out with a pornstar or onlyfans star."

He smirked, "Oh so you know what I do then?" he's clearly amused by this. His gaze lowers to your lips for a split second before meeting back up to your eyes "What did ya look me up or somethin'?" you chucked, "Don't boost your ego you just popped up on Twitter." A smirk landed on his pink lips at your sassy remark, realizing you're probably not as shy as you seem. "Shoulda clicked on my profile ma, trust me you'd like it."

Your smile only grew, "No I saw, need to work on your moans though. They sound fake." he let out a scoff with a small laugh, "Yeah? How could I improve?" "I'm not showing you it's your job not mine." You both laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter between you both. "C'mon doll you know I like getting feedback." You shook your head before speaking, "Okay well, don't be so quiet. No one likes that. Moan more, whimper more, dirty talk, I don't care just don't make it quiet." You quickly shut your mouth after that, realizing your hormones took over for a second, the wetness only growing between your legs.

He smirked at your statement, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, "Wasn't expecting that from ya. But how do you expect me to do all of this perfectly without any practice ma? Hm?" "Yeah do it yourself pretty boy." You said as you got up to go get yourself a drink. He chuckled at how quickly you got up. "Hey can you get me 'nother Pepsi while you're out there?" You looked at him with a confused face before grabbing him another can of Pepsi anyway. He smiled as you handed him the can, eyes trailing down your body as he spoke, "Hey c'mere for a second. Needa tell ya somethin'." Hesitantly, you sat beside him. The cold leather making you shiver slightly.

"You know.." he started, "I wouldn't mind your help with practice, from what ya said earlier. 'Bout how I need to be more loud. "If I say yes will you leave me alone with this?" you said annoyed. His smirk came back at your question. "All ya gotta do is say yes ma.." "Fine." you said with a huff. Not because you didn't want it, no you wanted it. Bad. But because you knew you'd get attached after this and he'd see it as nothing more than a one night stand. He started kissing your neck softly, a soft breath leaves your lips before saying "Right here? Can we at least go to an empty bedroom or something?" He chuckled against your neck, before pulling away and taking your hand as he led you to what you hoped was his bedroom.

The first thing he did when you guys walked into the bedroom was lock the door. He didn't want anyone to see what was his, or what he wanted to be his. He turned around and faced you, slowly walking towards you. "Fucking hate how attractive you are and how much I like you." You said as you kissed him roughly. His eyes widened at the sudden kiss, but is quick to reciprocate it as his hands move to each side of your jaw. He steps forward which causes you to push back into the wall. You moaned into the kiss, which gave Chris the perfect opportunity to add his tongue to the mix.

Before you know it your clothes are scattered all over the floor along with Chris' clothes. You're pretty sure you saw Chris put your underwear in his nightstand drawer but fuck you didn't care. Not when he was pounding into you from behind at an ungodly fast pace. "Fuck ma- taking me so well." You only moaned in response, not like you could form a sentence anyway. "Chris please-" you managed to get out, "Please what? Use your words." "Need your hand-" you couldn't finish your sentence so you just took his hand and guided it to your throat. He squeezes, but not enough to hurt you but enough to make you feel good. "F–Fuck baby, just needed my hand wrapped around ya throat huh?"

"Such a good lil slut f'me." He groaned out. His free hand that was on your hip grabbed his phone, his metal bracelet making you shiver. "Wan' record ya mama. Is that okay?" You whined and nodded. He was quick to start recording, making sure he gets the perfect view of you taking him, all of him. "Chris 'm close." "Yeah? Cum all over my cock. Fuck.." All it took was Chris to hit your g-spot one more time for you to break. A white ring forming around the base of his cock. He lets go of your throat and switches his phone into his other hand, his free hand coming to rest on your hip. "I'm close, gonna cum all over your pretty ass mama." And with that he pulled out quick enough to have his hot cum spurt all over your ass.

He's quick to stop recording and upload the video to his OnlyFans and Twitter. When he's done with that he starts a bath for the both of you. Once your both done with your bath he hands you a pair of boxers and one of his shirts. He puts his boxers back on and some pajama pants. You cuddle up to his chest once you both lay down and he runs his fingers through your tangled hair. He grabs his phone and checks the video. "Wow." He says softly, you hum in confusion as he explains that the video has done better than any other one he's uploaded. "Yeah the people in the comments fucking love you ma, saying they've had a better orgasm than ever. Think that means I'm gonna have to keep you." And with that he kisses your forehead as you fall into a deep sleep.

Tags:

@cvnntagious @sturnobsessedwh0re @sturniolos-manslut19 @sturniolosluttt @mattsfavbitchhh @livy4swift @pip4444chris @christophersturnn @ariastur9z @sturniolosarethebest @sturnioq @chrislilcumslvt @conspiracy-ash @courta13 @emely9274

A/N: can you tell I got lazy towards the end LMAO. Two posts in one day who is this?? lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!!

[httpwintersoldier]

『 sweet little thing p.1 | b. barnes x reader 』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has parts summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher?

fluff ; angst ; smut

When you saw Andy he was simply... phenomenal. His eyes were big and blue, and the way their corners creased when he smiled was simply too much to bear.

You made it a point to become close to him - you swore up and down that your classmate would fall in love with you if he spent just enough time around you.

So you pretended to be dumb, and, because Andy was one of the top students in the university, it was only logical to ask him for help and form a study group.

It was all going well and dandy - you two hung out together nearly every day, studied and partied, and eventually went from colleagues, to friends, to very close friends.

Your plan was working perfectly... until one day. Until that one awful, magical day in which he invited you to study at his house.

Your whole body was trembling and the butterflies in your stomach wouldn't sit still as you drove to Andy's place, but the smile plastered on your face would let anyone know that, despite the nervousness, you were thrilled.

You took a deep breath and opened the car door, shutting it behind you before skipping over to the house's front porch and ringing the doorbell.

Silence. Nothing. Not a "I'm coming", not a "one second!", not even a single footstep. You checked your phone to make sure you were on the right address and that you had gotten the date correct before ringing the doorbell again, while anxiously biting your lip.

Suddenly, you heard heavy footsteps coming from the inside, and the white wooden door swung open.

"Who the f- oh, who are you?" The man's voice was rigid at first, but it softened and quieted as his eyes landed on your figure, in a little skirt and books tucked against your chest.

Your eyes widened in surprise. That man couldn't be anyone other than Andy's dad. His eyes were just as blue, and his voice was just the right amount of soft and rough as well. But there was something about him... Something that made your heart pound out of your chest. Maybe it was the short beard, the sweat dripping down his forehead, or the way his shirt hugged his biceps, but you were feeling something just about everywhere.

Andy was good looking guy but that... that was a gorgeous man.

"S-sorry sir, I'm Y/N. I'm Andy's friend he uh- we were supposed to study today."

"Were you now?" He grabbed the rag that was tucked away on the waist of his jeans and wiped his forehead "I'm sorry darlin' but the little shit hasn't come back yet, feel free to come in and wait for him though." The man said, stepping away from the door and giving you space to walk inside.

His tone wasn't rigid, but there was definitely an aura around him that demanded respect and that imposed authority. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, but you smiled nevertheless.

"I wouldn't want to impose, I can come back later, Sir!" You shyly replied, as it was clear that the man was working and he had no idea he was about to receive visitors.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing, I wish all of Andy's friends were like you. It's no trouble, really. It's the least I can do for you in this situation." He said with a chuckle.

You smiled and walked into the house and right past the man, hoping he missed the blush that crept up on your face and the nervousness that made your legs shake.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Barnes!"

The man nodded in response and pointed you to the living room before disappearing somewhere in the house.

Minutes passed by and the clock on the wall ticked as you were left by yourself for who knows how long. You had plenty of time to look around, although there was not much to look at - the house was barely decorated, only a few framed pictures here and there, everything else was the strictly necessary furniture. The living room was but a couch, a reclining chair, a nice plasma TV and a coffee table with circular stains (from the lack of coasters, no doubt). Andy had once mentioned that his parents were no longer together, and that was obvious from the looks of the house - it was clearly a man-cave.

An hour had passed by when Andy's dad emerged from the back of the house once more, his forehead shining with sweat as he wiped his greasy hands on a rag.

He lifted his head and the man's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes met yours.

"Where is Andy?" He simply asked, in a monotone voice.

You swallowed thickly, almost nervously, as if you had done something wrong.

"I... I'm not sure, Sir. He hasn't answered my texts."

The male sighed and his features softened - you couldn't tell if he was annoyed that a stranger was still in his house or if he was irritated that his son had invited someone over and left them alone.

He opened his mouth to say something else but, as if on cue, Andy burst in the door.

"Hey dad there's a car in the- oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?" The boy asked when his eyes landed on your figure sitting on the couch.

"We had agreed to study today." You said, holding up the books you had brought with yourself.

"No, we had agreed to study on Tuesday."

His dad walked over to him and smacked him on the head - it wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was rough enough for Andy to understand he was being reprimanded.

"Which is today, dipshit. And where's your phone?"

Andy's eyes widened and he facepalmed.

"Aw man, is it!? I'm so sorry, Y/N!" Andy knelt in front of you, staring at you with those steel blue eyes "I will make it up to you, I promise."

But suddenly, those turquoise orbs that you came to love so much, did not have the same effect on you, as you had somehow found a more beautiful pair to stare into.

You had spent the week getting flashbacks of the small exchanges you had had with Andy's dad - the way his muscles flexed at every little movement, the way his hair fell over his face ever so slightly, and his piercing blue eyes, that gave such a rugged man an almost angelic look.

You felt guilty for the amount of thoughts you had about the man, especially when you were constantly hanging around Andy, but you couldn't help the effect he had on you, it was like poison slowly taking over your body.

"Why don't you come over for dinner, Y/N? I'm cooking tonight and I still owe you an apology for the other day." Andy invited, as you walked to your class.

You bit your lip - free homecooked food was not something you wanted to decline, but you wondered if stepping back into that house was wise, as more interactions with "Mr. Barnes" would bring your infatuation to a new level, you were sure.

"Come on! If you decline free food it means you were never really angry at me."

You rolled your eyes and eventually agreed, convincing yourself that it was nothing but a stupid schoolgirl crush that would eventually go away.

You were nervous throughout the rest of the day, for no reason at all. You didn't even know if Mr. Barnes would be home, you didn't even know if you were going to interact with him, but for some reason that beautiful gaze of his was burned into your mind.

Andy didn't find your silence too weird, as he just thought you were still angry at him - and he hoped that that night's dinner would bring your friendship back to normal.

After classes were done, you stopped by your place so you could shower and change clothes after a whole day of sweating. You stood in front of your closet, towel wrapped around your body as you wondered what you should wear, your eyes landed on a miniskirt. Usually you'd wear something sexy to catch the eyes of a certain boy, but this time you knew you'd be wearing it to catch someone else's attention. It felt wrong, it made you feel somewhat guilty, for some reason, and yet you still picked up the skirt and put it on.

Andy must've been busy with the cooking, because when you rang the doorbell it was Mr. Barnes who opened it for you. It hard to contain the smile (and the attraction you felt for him) as his eyes traveled down your body and landed on the little skirt you wore.

This time he wasn't as sweaty and dirty (to your slight displeasure), he wore a dark pair of jeans and a light shirt, with its sleeves rolled up until his elbow.

"Hello, Sir." You greeted politely.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he stepped away from the door, granting you passage.

"Hello, darlin'. You can just call me James." He said as you entered the house.

You can just call him James. You didn't know how to feel about that, there was a certain appeal in calling him "Sir", as if you were recognizing that he was somehow superior to you, more worthy of respect and authority.

"Of course S- James." You said, nonetheless, correcting yourself immediately.

"Andy's right down there in the kitchen." James said with a smirk.

You thanked him and followed the direction in which he had pointed to, and you found Andy, and a mess of onion and potato peels around him, as well as chunky and uneven cut carrots and a poorly de-boned chicken.

As you watched the boy struggle, you felt a presence behind you - James Barnes. You looked up at him, to find him staring at his son with a mix of confusion and disgust on his face.

"Hey, buddy, the chicken is already dead." He mocked.

Andy looked over his shoulder to find the two of you staring at him, and he looked... stressed, to say the least. It was clear that he didn't know how to cook whatever he was trying to cook, that the only reason why he asked you over was to impress you, and he had failed.

His dad laughed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder.

"Go wash up kid, I can finish up."

Andy looked like he had just seen his guardian angel, he thanked his dad and glanced at you.

"I'll be right back just- I'm going to take a shower." The boy ran past you and you couldn't help but giggle at the disheveled state of the ever-composed Andy Barnes.

However, when he left, you were painfully aware that you were once more left alone with the man you had been picturing in your mind the whole week.

"Do you need help, James?" The name rolled off your tongue with such ease, it felt natural, and for some reason it aroused you, as if calling him by his name expressed some sort of closeness.

The man glanced at you, and then at the counter - you could see the conflict in his eyes.

"You're a guest, don't worry about it."

You had been invited by his son, and the last thing he wanted was to have someone invited over to do housework, but you couldn't stand back and relax while he looked so overwhelmed. So, you rolled up your sleeves and began pooling together all of the peels and unusable parts that were laying on the counter.

"It's no problem, really." You told him with a smile as you carried the stuff you had collected to the trash.

Unbeknownst to you, the male's eyes fell to your legs as you walked away, and he muttered a small "fuck" under his breath as you bent over the trash. Your skirt rode up dangerously, and he had to force his gaze away from your figure. Obviously your outfit hadn't gone unnoticed by the man...

There wasn't much of an exchange between the two of you before Andy came down the stairs running, hair still slightly damp. The man focused on finishing dinner and you set the table, to pass time and fill in the awkwardness.

"Sorry! Sorry for leaving you with him again." The boy said as he came into the room.

"I will ground you." The man retorted, playfully.

You giggled at the joke and glanced at how mesmerizing Mr. Barnes looked, even from the back.

"Sorry Sarge!" Andy said and you cocked your head to the side.

James turned around to put the food on the table, and Andy took it as an opportunity to hook his finger around the chain around his neck, bringing the dog tag that was hidden under his shirt forward - you didn't miss the way it flashed some of the male's naked chest.

"He was an army brat and then joined the army and became a Sergeant. I wanted to join too but dad didn't let me." Andy explained, as you all began taking your seats around the table.

A soldier... That would explain the brooding and the serious expression, and it would further explain the way his presence alone demanded respect and exuded authority. It somehow made him even more desirable, if that was even possible.

"What would you even do there, Andy? You couldn't chop a carrot, never mind shoot a gun." You joked.

Andy's face grew red with embarrassment and his dad left out a hearty laugh.

You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face, for some reason you felt proud for making the male laugh. Andy protested your joke, but you didn't listen, as your eyes were glued to the dog tag, trying to read it.

"James B. Barnes..." You said to yourself, as you thought about what the "B" stood for.

"Bucky."

You eyes snapped up and you met the male's gaze, it was piercing and there was a mixture of emotions to them, they were curious and had a glint of playfulness, like a big dog staring at the newly arrived kitten.

"S-sorry?" You asked, not gathering what he meant.

"The 'B', it stands for Buchanan, or Bucky for short."

You blushed deeply, and you could feel the heat on your face as apparently you had said his name quite loud.

The glances you exchanged throughout the dinner were brief, and both of you wondered if there was something more to them, but, due to the fact that he was you dad's friend, the two of you just dismissed it as fragments of their imagination.

The dinner had been disastrous. Well, it had gone wonderfully, which was terrible, because your head was filled with constant images of your supposed crush's father.

Your head was spinning constantly, and your (romantic) interest on Andy had been reduced to basically nothing. You couldn't stop thinking of his eyes, his smile, his gaze, his muscles, his... everything. And the thoughts only got dirtier and dirtier as the clock ticked, each hour making your mind delve deeper into your perverted fantasies.

You refused to touch yourself to image of your close friend's father, it was wrong, but one day the images in your mind seemed too real, you were so desperate you could swear you almost felt his rough hand softly exploring your inner thighs, travelling upwards and upwards. You flipped the covers off of yourself and put on a pair of shorts as you headed out for some air.

You walked with no destination, but you remembered there was a convenience store nearby, and you decided to stop by - maybe a late night snack and a late night walk would make you sleepy enough to fall right asleep once you headed back, but oh how wrong you were.

You greeted the cranky cashier as you walked in and made your way around the store, looking for something that would catch your eye, but, to your surprise, you found a different kind of snack hidden in the back.

Standing in front of the beer cases was none other than James Buchanan Barnes, with one hand on his hip as he brushed his hair back with the other hand. His jeans were riding terribly low, and when he lifted his arm to fix the rebel strands of hair, he revealed the waistband of his underwear, like the ribbon of a gift you desperately wanted to unwrap.

He lived nearby, and you wondered if you had crossed paths before and you just hadn't noticed him, or if it was the universe toying with you.

You realized you had been standing there, staring like a creep, and he had probably noticed someone was in the same aisle, so you decided turned on your heels and walked towards the cookie aisle.

You had spend a couple minutes biting your lip and admiring all of the different flavours, before deciding on the Oreos at the very top of the high shelf.

Just as you struggled, standing on your tippy toes and reaching for the item, someone came behind you and grabbed a pack. Their hand was on your waist, and their chest directly behind you. You turned around, coming face to face with none other than Bucky, the man you were trying to hard to avoid. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to grab the hand that had grabbed your waist and place it lower on your body.

You breathed in deeply, inhaling his manly musk, a faint smell of fresh laundry and deodorant, nothing too strong like most guys in your college whom you could smell a mile away.

"Hey darlin', what're you doing out here so late?" He asked as he took a step back and handed you your snack.

"Hi! I couldn't sleep, it's uh... it's too hot." It wasn't entirely false, but he didn't need to know where that heat resided, or who was the cause for it.

Your fingers brushed against his as you took the Oreos from him, and adrenaline shot through your body. Every single one of his touches left a fire in your body, one that he started and only he could put out.

"Yeah? Me either." There was a certain sadness in his tone, but he quickly changed the subject. "Are you here all by yourself?"

"Uh, yeah, I am."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together and he seemed to be deep in thought for a second. He had it in his nature to take care of everyone around him, and the situation simply didn't seem right in his mind.

"Let me drive you home, it's getting real late and it's dark out there."

You desperately wanted to take the offer, but you couldn't - not only did you not want to be a bother, you also didn't want your forget-about-Bucky walk to turn into a more-Bucky-content walk.

"Thank you, Mr. B- James, it's okay, really."

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked, feeling uneasy.

He had no authority over you, but it didn't feel correct to let a young woman walk alone in the middle of the night.

"Yeah, no worries James, thank you for the offer."

"Have yourself a good night then, darlin'." He said, with a small smile.

"You too, sir!"

You mentally cursed yourself for calling him "sir" again as you turned around and made your way to the cashier - old habits die hard.

As you left the store, you glanced back to steal another look at Bucky's ethereal appearance, and you wondered if you should have just given in and let him take you home.

"Hey there, wanna do something fun, princess?" A voice snapped you out of your fantasies, and, when you realized, three guys had surrounded you.

They weren't huge or muscled by any means, but they were tripled in number, so you felt a little uneasy in their presence.

"Come on baby, why don't we take you home, huh?" The tallest one of the trio asked, stepping forward.

"I'm- I'm good, thanks."

"Don't look so scared, we don't bite." He got closer to you, so that he could whisper "Not unless you want us to."

As you stood there, frozen in fear, the crew shared a collective laugh. The laughing stopped rather quickly, and their faces morphed from entertained and amused, to serious ones. You didn't understand what was happening, but as you took one step back, you bumped into someone's chest. You looked up to find none other than Bucky. His eyes were devoid of that twinkle and glisten that you fantasized about, they were dark and clouded by rage.

He said nothing before taking your arm and pulling you to stand behind him.

"I wanna do something fun. I think I know just how much fun the four of us can have." The male said, walking towards them until he was face to face with the guy that had whispered in your ear.

There were three guys versus just one Bucky, but their three scrawny figures stood no chance against a man like James Barnes.

"Ay, let's- let's bounce y'all." One of them said, in the back, pulling his friends back by the forearm.

"Yeah, I think it'd be best if you three 'bounced'." Bucky mocked, never letting go of the eye contact.

Once they were out of sight, the man turned around to face you, placing his hands on your arms.

"Are you okay? Darlin'?" One of his hands slid up your body as he grabbed your chin and tipped it upwards, so his worried eyes could look into your shocked, fearful ones.

"F-fuck..." You finally said, brushing your hair back in frustration.

You could finally breathe, and you felt like Bucky had just rescued you from the claws of a wolf.

"Thank you s- James. Thank you so much." You muttered, and Bucky breathed out in relief. "I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, none of that. You were living your life and what happened isn't your fault. Let's get you home, okay?" The man said, cutting you off and preventing you from potentially blaming what happened on any of your actions, which made you smile shyly and nod along to his question.

You followed Bucky to his truck. He offered you his hand so you could get on the seat as it was quite high, and his eyes shamelessly trailed down your body once more. The man had to turn his head to the side until you had climbed onto the seat.

Aside from giving him directions to your place, the trip was rather quiet.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, as he took one of your hands and placed his free hand on your hip while helping you out of his truck once you had arrived to your house.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for... that, back there."

"No need to worry darlin'. You uh- text me, or call me, if you're ever in trouble. Andy told me your parents live away from the university, so hit me up if you ever need anything."

Andy had told him... You wondered if Bucky asked or if the son had simply volunteered that information. Nonetheless you took the card he extended you - it was a business card with Bucky's Garage written on it, and his phone number under it.

You blushed intensely and your mind became foggy for a second, as you acknowledged that the man had just handed you his number.

"Thank you. I will, James."

After that encounter, you didn't see Bucky for over a week. The frequency with which he visited your mind, however, increased by the hour. It seemed like the saying "out of sight, out of mind" had no real meaning when it came to dirty thoughts involving James Barnes.

Nine days after the fact, Andy asked you and a couple other people over to watch basketball. It was a small group of four boys, including Andy, and two girls, you and a really sweet girl whom you had grown closer to, since you hung out together often because of the guys.

You knew Bucky would be there, which made choosing an outfit much more difficult. Should you dress normally!? Should you try to tease him further? Would you want to continue feeding this silly fantasy of yours?

Your eyes skimmed the closet, eventually landing on a cheerleading outfit - it was a small skirt and a long sleeved crop top, both with a colour scheme that matched your town's basketball team's. You had bought it for halloween once, for an undead cheerleader look, and you were seriously considering it.

Your mind raced with several contradicting thoughts, but you eventually picked it up and tried it on.

"Should I? Maybe it's too much... I mean, they will be wearing team jerseys, so it wouldn't be too farfetched to wear this. Or would it?" You were talking to yourself like a crazy person as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Eventually, you decided to text the other girl who was invited, in hopes of getting some honest feedback, before asking what she was thinking of taking as an outfit. You snapped two photos, one from the front, and one from your back, so she could properly see the length (or lack thereof) of your skirt.

You: is this too slutty to take to his house or does it look good? (2 attachments)

You put your phone down but it vibrated again as soon as it touched the mattress.

"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."

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