#its just i really care about this one thing right now and i need to say it but also its kinda like mannnnnnnnnnnnnnn

[meansevika]

okay so very long thinkpiece about meljay and jayce' treatment of mel / the writers treatment of mel and how i think that all things considered she hasnt really won as much as we think she did

the thing about this that makes me so mad or rather sad (both, actually) is that we learn in season 1 how mel was brought up, that she didn't get to be soft and kind, that her surroundings were hard and rough just like her mother was, that love isn't a thing she knows like that especially not in relation to vulnerability. now if you think about media in general there is a pattern we know. the black woman is always the strong woman, the independent woman, the woman who doesnt get to be vulnerable bc of the first two points. so here comes this man she's trying to use not just for her own endeavors but for the good of piltover, clearly having a different mindset than her mother, and he cracks her open just like that. he's vulnerable with her and he lets her be vulnerable with him and it allows this woman this kind of vulnerability that she was never allowed to feel. she feels and she loves and there is someone who holds her and looks out for her when things go bad. he is his first thought after the bombing and hes so loving and endearing unlike her mother who is concerned, of course, but straight back to business too. and oh what a lovely thing that was to watch as a black woman who to this day still doesn't get to see this as often as we really should

so mel gets to experience something she hasnt before and you can tell it means something to her because when she gets back in act 3 the first reaction to him is an excited, hopeful one.

this is the man she cares deeply for and it is also the man who shes comforted before many times. something she needs in those very confusing times too. something she might be looking out for. something she might hope to get herself. some comforting after what shes been through for months. someone to share what is going on with her and how confusing it is to find out all those lies and secrets about herself.

until she notices how changed he is, how different he looks, so instantly she is worried. of course! who wouldnt be! she very likely didnt even know he was missing since its the first time we see her back in the city so she must've assumed he has been here and well for the whole time being (does she even know how long its been?) but it isnt fine as we know. she puts herself second! immediately! (and rewatching that scene now it actually makes me mad how she does that. and how anyone can question any of her feelings for him when shes immediately all jayce. or how in general people think shes only interested in her own goals) she asks this man who has shown her to be vulnerable around him and it BEING FINE, what happened, shes opening herself up to him, again, over and over, and he not only tells her it doesnt matter (what happened to him) but TURNS HIS BACK ON HER. he is literally shutting her off. he is saying with his body she does not get to do that. and for someone who has grown up like this, with a mother cutting off any kind of displays of weakness, this must be a familiar feeling, something that goes off like a bell

but she still tries! she still tries! she sees something is wrong but she tries to get comfort anyway, because this is jayce, right, this is the man she cares for deeply, the man who has opened this door for her and the door she's let herself through, the man who has always had compassion for her. of course she tries again. why wouldn't she? so she starts that something has happened to her but he doesn't even let her tell him what happened (actually it makes me so mad seeing this again and how crazy hostile he is towards her, its like im looking at the mel hating part of arcanetwt and him repeating beat for beat what theyve been saying for years) he doesnt give her room to speak, just takes it for himself, prioritizing himself and his own feelings. and, yes, figuring out the bombing thing and wanting to talk about it is valid and i think in general this could've been a great angsty way to deal with this topic IF they would've had the opportunity to talk this out properly but what happens instead is that the man that makes mel feel safe starts INTERROGATING her like she is a criminal that should be held for trial FOR SAVING HIM something she doesnt even undestand herself. and suddenly she is in a whole different position and i think by now she knows that this kind of compassion and understanding and room for vulnerability isn't part of their conversation anymore

she loses her composure and that of course isnt a first because she has started to be less put together around him, allowing her more room to "sway" but this kind of destruction is a different one because she feels at trial, feels cornered, feels like she has to explain herself but - and thats what is important - isnt heard. and i think that is something she knows very well, something shes grown up with, trying to explain herself and not being heard.

all of that happens while he is, mind you, still holding onto that hammer. something she surely notices too. the man who's usually quick to let down his defences around her, who isnt councilor talis or mister talis but just jayce around her, is holding onto that hammer like shes a threat. so he tells her he thinks shes lying and she asks him why he would think she'd do that, obviously, because her understanding of their relationship and their trust is a different one than his or at least this jayce that has come back from the arcane, because clearly this kind of understanding comes from somewhere and it comes from the times they've spent together alone throughout season 1 and a little in the beginning of season 2.

he throws at her that shes been using him, something that surprises her, because clearly she doesnt know what has happened, but she tries to explain anyway, because she doesnt know what has happened at least not in full (as you can tell by her reaction to viktor appearing, sensing the hostile mood between both, but also the way she reacts when viktor mentions the noxians intentions), and you can see that these thoughts of his are a result of months in the arcane alone with them and imagining conversations over conversations (although for me its still hard to understand how he grew that hostile towards her this quickly as if she were responsible for everything that happened but those are thoughts for a different post). he crashes out during that conversation, his face is warped with hatred and that is. all. for. her. to. see. and then BOOM goes the hammer off. mid conversation. a conversation that should feel safe with a man she should feel safe with but none of that is there. there is no space for her. (and yes i know hes aiming at viktors puppet but that isnt somethng mel is aware in that moment)

it all leads up to a fight and eventually they walk together and he apologizes, although very distantly and without much explanation, and despite it all, despite having good reasons to shut off and not share what she's feeling, she does. she talks to him about what is on her mind and they have a short, bittersweet exchange but it's just nowhere to what they've established in the first season. as a shipper of course that is super frustrating, but as a mel fan it's just sad to see that the person she felt safe enough to seek comfort in is just so closed off. but not only that, it's obvious they're parting ways and it's very obvious this is coming from his side and i think that is also why she so wilingly accepts it. she doesn't fight much back throughout their whole fight earlier either, she tries to explain herself, but doesnt demand that room for herself even though in this relationship she should be able to take just as much room for herself and her feelings as he does, but she doesn't. she just lets it happen and i understand it bc you have this man you trust and probably love and his first reaction to you is hostile when hostile has never been a response to her. he made a complete u-turn and of course that's off putting, maybe even scary, of course it shuts her down, makes someone who's so good with words and fighting just try to cause as little damage as possible because that is how she's grown up, isn't it?

and that is why i am sad about this. she learned that love doesnt have to look like her mothers and that being vulnerable isnt a weakness and its his doing but here she is met by this kind of hostility she only knows from noxus and it hurts even more that it COMES FROM HIM and over something as SAVING HIS LIFE when its clearly was an act out of love and not investment bc if i'd would've been just that than she would've saved viktor as well? but it wasnt about that. it was her subconscious making a decision and it was something her mother would describe as an act of weakness (theres a reason she gets renni to attack him bc she sees how fond mel of him is maybe even because shes been fond of a man herself once and she knows what itll do) and i think the worst part about it is that she doesnt ever get to truly articulate this or anything else and now that jayce is gone (dead? in a stone? who knows?) she won't get to ever probably. she won't get to say what she thinks and explain herself truly and she won't have anyone to confide in, to be comforted by or comfort. elora is dead, kino wasn't real and the real one is actually dead too, jayce is well whatever he is, and her mother died in her arms. yes, mel is a mage and that is fucking awesome and i was so happy to see her go off and get so many spotlights in battle, but shes also so fucking tragic actually. because here she is with a fuck ton of weight on her shoulders, the noxian army looking up to her, the whole name, not knowing who her father is or what any of her powers mean, the whole black rose thing, everything unresolved between her and jayce, the death of the people she loves, and shes all alone with it. shes all alone with it and she gets no one. man im just fucking sad that this woman got a glimpse of what it could be like to be loved and have someone to "come home to" just for her to have literally no one left like why do you hate black women so much why cant they get a fucking good ending and why cant they be fucking loved even when things get hard

also im lowkey mad that jayce got to find comfort in her lap so many times and not once did she get that in return, not even a squeeze of her shoulder, but dont let me get started on that....

[leclarifies]

THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE (LN4)

✰ lando norris x ex!reader ✰

summary → in which lando keeps dialing your number even after you've changed it.

genre → angst (im not sorry)

word count → 2.1k

author's note → remember how i broke ur hearts with carlos sainz angst for my first fic about him? YEAH HERE'S THE LANDO VERSION!!!!!!!! i know yall love it either way so, enjoy reading! very short btw, i just wanted to put something out for today

"where did we go wrong? i know we started out all right. where did we go wrong? i swear i knew we'd last this time." - lany, "13"

it takes three rings.

then he hears that stupid automated voice again, "the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try—"

"for fuck's sake."

after he ends the attempted call, the furious typing is apparent in the empty, dark room. the artificial keyboard clicking fills the room as he tries his best to reach her. it's futile really, with every text he sends, the more agitated he becomes.

he knew that he shouldn't do this, that she was probably trying her best to move on, but he couldn't. he couldn't let her slip away from his grasp so easily.

"i just want you here for my races, is that so hard to ask for?" lando sounded desperate, he was desperate. he was a guy who needed his girlfriend and it didn't help that his girlfriend couldn't be there with him when he needed it the most, especially at times like these.

she was tired, he could tell, he didn't want to turn this into an argument but he was going to base it off of how she was going to respond, "lando, i can't. you know this. i have family here that i need to support, i can't just quit—"

"i'm not asking you to quit, i'm asking you to come just when you can," lando ruffled his hair so hard that it hurt, "the races are on weekends— for fuck's sake! why can't you just listen to me and actually hear what i'm saying?"

"i am listening! you're not listening to me!" she had tears in her eyes now, he hated it. he hated when he got riled up like this. it wasn't her fault, he knew it but he wanted her around him at least every few races, he hadn't been able to see her on the paddock at all this year and it pained him.

an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he tries calling again, he knows she's not gonna pick up. he knows that he's probably blocked everywhere, but he wants to try. he wants to talk. he just wanted to fix things.

"the number you have dialed is—"

the next thing he heard was his phone shattering against the wall after he threw it across the room.

it was only two days later when he got a new phone and tried again, it wasn't going to go through. he knew it, but he just wanted to try. he wanted to show her that he was willing to make a compromise with her, just to make sure that she was there for him.

he didn't understand why he raised his voice so easily when it came to her, maybe because emotions ran high and he didn't know what else to do to express himself. he didn't know. all he knew was that he was a selfish prick and he deserved all of this.

he tried again.

"the number you have dialed is cu—"

he wanted to smash that brand new phone into the wall like its predecessor but he held himself back, he knew that the money that was needed to buy him a new phone was priceless to him, he was a formula one driver. it was pennies to him. all that money and he couldn't keep the most priceless thing to him, her.

he didn't care how selfish it sounded, or how convoluted their issues were. he just wanted her here, to hug, to kiss, to just comfort him. he had so many things on his mind right now and it could've been solved just by a simple touch and kiss to the forehead.

he was losing his mind and he knew it.

something akin to a sob bubbles from his throat when he hears the automated voice again.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try again later."

he fucked up, he knows now. she didn't have to rub it in his face like this, by changing her number and disappearing off of the face of the earth.

he just wanted to be home.

gentle knocking wakes her up from her slumber, it's unusual to get guests at this hour and on top of that, she wasn't expecting anyone. a huff escapes her lips as she gently takes the covers off of her and sits up on the bed. the knocks become more persistent as she begrudgingly gets up from her comfortable bed.

at first, she contemplates whether she should open the door or not but she opens it against her better judgement, her eyes widening when she realizes who it was.

"lando, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in aus—"

she gets engulfed in a hug before she could even utter another word.

inhaling her scent after so long had been a breath of a fresh air for lando, he missed her. she's confused on how lando even knows where she lived. she had moved out of her last flat to avoid him on purpose, and now he's here, when he's supposed to be all the way in australia getting ready for a race.

his hug wasn't reciprocated, unfortunately for him.

"lando—" she was cut off by her ex standing in front of her, his eyes were glassy, puffy, like he had been crying all the way from australia to here.

"i just wanted to see you, that's all."

"we broke up two months ago, you can't just show up in front of my flat like this."

"i know but—"

"there aren't any buts lando, didn't me changing my number make it clear to you?" she folded her arms in front of her chest, her hair was still a mess from sleep and she was in pajamas, but her eyes were nowhere near his, not wanting to have any type of eye contact.

lando could only look down on the ground in embarrassment, he knew it was wrong. he knew he shouldn't have asked her friends where she lived, all of them had turned down his questions, telling him that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore but it wasn't anything a little persistence couldn't solve.

"is that all? you have a race to catch," she didn't even give him the chance to speak before trying to close the door on his face, but he blocked it with his foot, he wanted to talk. to fix things. he knew that things were irreparable but he wanted to try.

lando pushes the door open, despite her insistence of not letting him in, "i want to fix things, love—"

"there's nothing to fix lando, we're done. we've been done. what part of done do you not understand?" she was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to end it with lando, no, not at all but she felt that it was best for the both of them, she couldn't provide him with what he needed and he couldn't with her either, so it was best to just separate because why be in a relationship when you don't feel the love?

her eyes were still on the floor, not even daring to look up at lando's. it hurt for her too of course, just throwing away their year-long relationship out the window when the beginning of their relationship was so lovely, but now all there was is resentment and she didn't want that in her relationship.

lando couldn't utter anything out his mouth, he was stuck in place by her words. he let himself in earlier after he pushed the door open, he gently closed the door behind him before sighing, "we didn't even talk about it, you just decided for yourself that you didn't want to be apart of this anymore, you didn't even wait until my race ended before i could respond. how can i let it go?"

she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked out the window, still refusing to look at lando, because she knew that if she did, she would start crying, "you just do lando. sometimes break-ups aren't always mutual, sometimes it's one person who doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. it takes two to tango."

lando tousled with his hair, what could he say to that? she wasn't wrong. she couldn't deny the hurt and sadness that was in his green eyes, she hated that she made him feel that way but they were nothing. they've been broken up. by definition, they didn't have anything to do with eachother anymore, but she still had that care inside of her heart for him. after all, it had only been two months.

"just hear me out, and by the end of tonight, if you don't want to see me anymore, i'm gone. i won't try to contact you anymore," lando gave an ultimatum and she was fine with that, because she knew well that whatever he said, she would still say no.

she sat down on her couch, patting the space next to her to at least give him some sort of hospitality, wanting to hear him out even though she was steadfast in her decision.

"i won't bug you to come to my races anymore, i'll even help you with helping your family—"

"you can't throw money at this problem, lando."

"i'm not throwing money at it, i'm just saying that it's an option and you can take it if you feel like you need it," lando's voice was always pleading— begging for her to hear him out. he wasn't that type of guy, never. all of his exes got the same type of treatment, if they said that they were done, then lando wouldn't even bother.

he was a formula one driver, he didn't have the time.

but for her, he did.

she looks up, her arms still folded in front of her chest, legs curled up beneath her as she tries to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation. glancing at the clock on the coffee table, it read in bright red neon numbers that it at 4:27 am, far too early or late for him to be here.

"we've had a similar conversation before, and i refused. so i'm refusing again," she sighs before meeting lando's eyes for the second time tonight, "i don't understand why you would want to keep this relationship. it doesn't benefit you for dating a poor girl."

"do you really think i care about your financial status?" lando asked, almost if it the thought of him caring about his (ex)girlfriend's financial status was ridiculous. he didn't care, it's the way she made him feel for the entirety of last year. she made him feel whole, like even if the world was against him, she would still be there.

she was used to men coming into her life who could think that they could "save" her and lando was no different to all of those other men. sure, she was definitely struggling trying to pay for her younger siblings education while working and pursuing her degree at the same time but that doesn't mean she was a damsel in distress and she expressed that to lando.

lando closed his eyes in frustration, "no, i didn't mean it like that—"

"well you sure as hell worded it like that," she looks away from him yet again, refusing to meet his eyes again until he had to leave. her eyes were glued to the window that overlooked the city, it was beautiful, calming— peaceful even, "i'm not changing my mind lando, we're worlds apart. i don't need you helping me, i can take care of myself."

with that, lando bit his lip and she ushers him out of her flat.

it had been months since lando's seen her, but he never forgot. he couldn't. the way she smelt, the way she laughed, everything still stuck in his brain as he continued his career.

the world didn't revolve around him, so the show must go on.

calling her old number had also become routine, almost an obsession. every finish, every weekend, anything that had to do with his career, lando would try and call her and tell her how his races were going, as if he wasn't talking to an automated robot on the other end of the line. the automated voice was practically his best friend because he's heard the damn voice so many times.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected. please try again later."

and try again later he would.

he didn't understand himself, was it an obsession or was it the comfort that it gave him when he dialed her number? he didn't know. but sometimes he would hold up that phone to his ear and talk as if she was on the other end of the line, even though lando knew that there was no one waiting on the other line for him, not anymore.

but, the show must go on, right?

[axeeglitter]

Lights are up but no one's home

Brad adjusted his letterman jacket and grinned as he caught sight of Emma walking down the driveway. She looked perfect, as always, with her auburn hair shining staircase morning light. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before her father, Mr. Gaines, stepped out onto the porch.

"Good morning, sir," Brad said, trying his best to sound polite.

Mr. Gaines didn't bother to respond, his sharp eyes scanning Brad as if he were unworthy. “Emma, be back by 3pm. And, Brad…” His voice was cold. “We’ll talk later.”

Brad shrugged it off, flashing his confident smile at Emma. "I think your dad will come around."

Emma gave him a concerned look, but Brad dismissed it, brushing off the tension.

Later that evening, as Brad walked Emma back to her house, Mr. Gaines met them at the door. “Brad, a word. Alone.”

Brad hesitated but eventually nodded. “Sure thing.” He gave Emma a reassuring glance before following her father into the study. Brad followed Mr. Gaines into the study, the older man closing the door firmly behind them. The heavy scent of leather and cedar filled the room, matching the dark, intimidating décor. A single lamp cast a golden glow over the desk, its light flickering slightly, giving the space a tense, almost foreboding atmosphere.

Brad stood his ground, towering over Mr. Gaines with his broad, athletic build. Years of football and rigorous workouts had shaped him into the picture of masculinity: square shoulders, a defined chest, and an aura of cocky confidence.

“Look, sir,” Brad began, his voice firm yet polite, “I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but I care about Emma. I’m good to her, and…”

Mr. Gaines raised a hand, cutting him off. “Spare me the charm, Brad. I see right through it.”

Brad bristled, his jaw tightening. “With all due respect, I don’t need your approval. Emma and I…”

“You’ll find you need more than you think,” Mr. Gaines interrupted again, his voice cold and commanding. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small glass vial filled with an iridescent liquid that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light.

Brad frowned, his brow furrowing. “What is that? Some kind of whiskey or…”

Before he could finish, Mr. Gaines popped the cap off and flung the contents at him with surprising speed. The liquid hit Brad square in the chest, seeping through his letterman jacket and white tight shirt and into his skin.

“What the hell?!” Brad shouted, stepping back as he frantically tried to wipe the liquid away. His hands tingled where they touched it, as though the substance was alive.

“You’ve had your time with my daughter,” Mr. Gaines said, his lips curling into a smirk. “Now, it’s time to see what you’re really made of.”

Brad opened his mouth to retort, but a sudden, searing heat coursed through his body, cutting him off. It started in his chest, radiating outward in waves that left his muscles twitching uncontrollably.

“Wha, what’s happening to me?!” he gasped, clutching at his chest. The heat intensified, and he felt his ribs shifting beneath his hands. His sturdy chest, once broad and solid, began to shrink. The hard ridges of his pecs softened, the thick slabs of muscle deflating like a balloon.

“No!” Brad groaned, his voice cracking. He could feel his sternum pulling inward, the bones grinding painfully as his torso narrowed. His shirt hung awkwardly now, loose in places it had once hugged snugly.

The heat spread downward, latching onto his abs. His once-chiseled six-pack, earned through countless hours of crunches and dieting, began to fade. He pressed his hands against his stomach, desperate to hold onto the definition, but the flesh grew soft and smooth under his touch.

“Stop this!” he begged, his voice trembling.

Mr. Gaines crossed his arms, watching with a cruel, detached interest. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

Brad stumbled forward, his legs shaking as a sharp pain erupted in his pelvis. He fell to his knees with a grunt, his jeans tightening uncomfortably around his hips. He groaned as his pelvis shifted, the bones grinding and reshaping into a narrower, more delicate structure.

His thighs quivered, the thick muscle softening and slimming. He had always prided himself on his powerful legs, tools of a star athlete, but now they looked more suited to a dancer. His calves followed suit, becoming slender and shapely, their once-prominent muscles fading into gentle curves.

“No, no, no!” Brad whimpered, clutching at his thighs as if sheer willpower could stop the transformation. His jeans shimmered and morphed, the denim becoming tight, ripped skinny jeans that clung to his new, slimmer legs like a second skin.

The heat moved downward, pooling in his feet. Brad gasped as his sneakers began to tighten painfully. His feet shrank, the size 12 shoes compressing around his toes until they reformed into smaller, more delicate size 9 feet. The sneakers warped, reshaping into sleek, white designer trainers that felt foreign and wrong.

He scrambled to his feet, swaying as he realized how much shorter he’d become. The once-commanding 6’2” frame that had made him stand out on the field was now gone and replaced by a slim and delicate 5’4”. He felt fragile, like a shadow of his former self.

“Why can’t I stop this?!” Brad cried, his voice growing higher-pitched with each word. He clapped his hands over his throat, horrified as his Adam’s apple receded. His deep, commanding voice was replaced by a soft, boyish tone that sounded utterly alien to his ears.

“Your height suited your arrogance,” Mr. Gaines said with a smirk. “But this? This is much better.”

The heat moved back up to Brad’s arms, and he watched in horror as his biceps and triceps, once bulging with power, shrank down to slender, almost dainty proportions. His shoulders narrowed, losing their broad, masculine width, leaving him with a delicate, almost effeminate frame.

His hands began to tingle, and he stared down at them in disbelief. The calluses that had marked years of lifting weights and gripping footballs faded, leaving his palms smooth and soft. His fingers slimmed, their rough, masculine shape replaced by long, elegant digits.

“This isn’t real,” Brad muttered, his voice trembling. “This can’t be real!”

“Oh, it’s real,” Mr. Gaines replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

Brad’s skin began to tingle as the transformation spread across his body. The fine dusting of body hair that had covered his chest, arms, and legs vanished, leaving his skin unnaturally smooth. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, desperate to cool the burning in his armpits, but the familiar musky scent of sweat was gone, replaced by a faint, floral fragrance. brad then felt his letterman jacket and white shirt starting to tighten around him. He turned his head to look at it only to realize he was now wearing a tight blue stripped shirt.

The heat surged into his face, and Brad stumbled back, clutching at his cheeks. His square jawline softened, the sharp edges rounding out into delicate curves. His cheekbones became more pronounced, giving his face a refined, almost ethereal beauty. His lips tingled and swelled, becoming fuller and pinker, while his nose slimmed into a petite, upturned shape.

Brad turned to the mirror on the wall, his heart sinking as he saw the stranger staring back at him. The rugged, masculine face he had always known was gone, replaced by one so pretty it could have graced a magazine cover.

The heat shifted to his scalp, and he reached up, gasping as his long, messy brown hair grew longer and softer on the top. It lightened to a golden blond, shimmering in the lamplight as it styled itself into a trendy, tousled look. His sides receded back in his scalp in millions of ant bites as Brad took his lobes in his hands screaming in pain.

“Look at you,” Mr. Gaines said, stepping closer. “You could pass for a model now. A twink, as they say.”

Brad stumbled away; his legs weak. “This… this isn’t me,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It is now,” Mr. Gaines replied coldly.

The final wave of heat pooled in Brad’s groin, and he doubled over, clutching at his hips. The muscles and bones there shifted painfully, completing the lithe, feminine shape his body had taken on. He wanted to scream, but his voice cracked once more, betraying the raw emotion he felt. Brad could feel his huge 8 inches cut dick boiling with heat as he could feel his cock grinding against his new jockstrap and his hairless thighs until it stopped to a 3 inches uncut cock. His nuts followed as he felt them taking less and less place inside the pouch. Brad tilted his head and looked as the front of his slim jeans was shrinking faster and faster. When the shrinking stopped, brad exhaled from fear as he tried to get up once more. But as his hands touched the ground to help himself, he felt a discharge of electricity zap him in the ass. He screamed from surprised and pain as he heard Mr. Gaines laugh viciously. “Now we’ll see how you handle these new sensations” he said with a deep voice while looking at Brad trying to find his breath again.

He collapsed to the floor, trembling as the heat finally began to subside. His body felt alien, every movement unfamiliar and wrong. He could feel the smoothness of his skin, the slenderness of his limbs, the absence of his once-powerful build.

Brad looked up at Mr. Gaines, his deep brown eyes glitching as they finished turning into bright blue eyes wide with horror. “Why… why would you do this to me?”

Mr. Gaines crouched down, smirking as he looked the transformed Brad in the eye. “Because you needed a lesson, boy. And now, you’re exactly what you deserve to be.”

Brad lay on the floor of the study, his altered body trembling with lingering heat. He tried to push himself up, but his new, slender arms buckled under the effort. The unfamiliar weight distribution of his body threw him off balance, and he collapsed again, the smoothness of his skin and the strange proportions of his limbs only amplifying his panic.

Inside his mind, Brad’s thoughts whirled. This isn’t me. This can’t be me. He clenched his teeth, or at least tried to, but even the sensation of his now-soft jawline felt wrong. Every breath was foreign, the floral scent from his armpits a mockery of the musky, masculine odor he’d once carried.

Mr. Gaines stood over him, arms crossed, his smirk cold and calculating. “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “Or maybe you won’t. Who knows?”

“You won’t get away with this, Emma will know, I will tell everyone” Brad spat, his voice unnaturally high and trembling. He cringed at the sound of it. “I will sue you!”

But as if to mock his resolve, a sharp pain stabbed into his temples, sending him sprawling onto his back. The room spun as his hands flew to his head, gripping at the blond strands of his new hair. It felt like something was clawing its way into his brain, rewriting him from the inside out.

“What is going on?! Fuck it hurts!!” he screamed, but the words came out in a whiny, petulant tone, almost like a pout.

“You think you can threaten me under my roof, Brad?” Mr. Gaines said smoothly. “Well… I thought this was enough, but seems not! Let’s see how you’ll behave now, Blaine!”

Another jolt of pain struck, this time deeper and more insistent. Memories flashed through his mind and memories of who he was, who he had been. The star athlete, the golden boy, the charming boyfriend who could talk his way out of trouble with a grin. He clung to those images desperately, but they began to fracture, splintering like glass.

In their place came foreign thoughts, feelings, and impulses. Bright colors danced behind his eyes, an overwhelming hunger for attention and admiration bubbling up from nowhere. He tried to suppress it, but it grew stronger with each passing second, like a dam about to burst.

“No,” Brad whimpered, tears streaming down his now-delicate face. “This isn’t me. I’m not…”

But the assault on his mind continued. His thoughts grew disjointed, a battle between his old self and the intrusive presence worming its way into his consciousness. His sense of humor shifted, memories of football games and weightlifting sessions replaced by an inexplicable appreciation for fashion trends and pop music.

The new personality emerged, brash and unyielding. It wasn’t subtle; it stormed into his mind like a diva on a stage, shoving Brad’s old self aside.

“Oh my God,” a voice bubbled in his head, light and effervescent. “This room is so drab. Like, who decorated this? A sad old man?”

No! That’s not me! Brad screamed internally, but the words didn’t make it out. His lips parted, and instead of the defiance he wanted to express, a soft giggle escaped.

“Stop it!” he thought desperately, but his body betrayed him. His delicate fingers brushed a strand of golden hair from his face, and he caught his reflection in the nearby mirror. A coquettish smile spread across his lips without his consent.

The final blow came when the pain in his head spiked to a blinding crescendo. Brad’s name, his name, slipped away, leaving a void where his identity had been. In its place, a new name blossomed, sugary sweet and unbearable.

“Blaine,” Mr. Gaines said with satisfaction, as though plucking the name from Brad’s own thoughts. “That suits you. Blaine, my new personal assistant.”

No, no, no! Brad’s mind screamed, but it was as if he were trapped behind a glass wall, watching his body and voice act without him.

Blaine blinked a few times, his wide, blue eyes fluttering. “Blaine,” he repeated, his voice sing-song.

Inside, Brad seethed. He was still there, buried deep, but he couldn’t control his body anymore. Every word, every movement, was Blaine’s now. And Blaine was everything Brad wasn’t: flamboyant, animated, and utterly unconcerned with the past.

“Do you need me for anything, sir?” Blaine said, tugging at the tight, ripped skinny jeans and tight blue striped shirt that had replaced Brad’s clothes. “I remember you told me to come to work on The Fortress Club folder, right?”

“Plenty of time for that later,” Mr. Gaines said, his smirk widening as he took a step about to grab Blaine’s shirt.

At that moment, the door to the study swung open, and Emma stepped in. “Dad? Have you seen Brad? He just vanished, and… Oh hello, I didn’t know you were busy working, you must be my dad’s new personal assistant, right?”

Her eyes landed on Blaine, who was standing with his hands behind his back, his head tilted in a way that screamed playful mischief. She froze, her brow furrowing.

“Who… are you?” she asked, clearly confused.

Blaine smiled as he presented himself while Brad’s trapped consciousness burn with humiliation.

“I’m Blaine!” he chirped, twirling a lock of his golden hair. “Just helping your dad out with… um… his work schedule. Nice to meet you!”

Emma blinked, then turned to her father. “Where’s Brad? He said he was coming in here to talk to you.”

Mr. Gaines feigned a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “Brad showed his true colors, I’m afraid. I caught him cheating on you. Told him to pack his things and leave. He didn’t even argue, just walked out without a word.”

Emma’s face fell, hurt flickering across her features. “He… what?”

Inside, Brad screamed. No! That’s a lie! I would never do that to her! But Blaine remained silent, batting his long lashes at Emma.

“You’re better off without him,” Mr. Gaines said firmly. “He wasn’t right for you.”

Emma shook her head, clearly unsettled. “Fuck him! If I ever see him again, he is dead! Well, I’m going to go. I need to process all of this.”

She turned and left the room without another word, leaving Blaine standing in the center of the study and Brad crying and screaming for Emma to come back.

Inside, Brad felt his heart shatter. She doesn’t even recognize me. She thinks I abandoned her. I’m still here! I’m still me!

Mr. Gaines clapped a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, ignoring the storm raging inside the former jock’s mind. “Well, Blaine, it looks like you’re all mine now.”

Blaine turned to him with a bright smile. “Ooh, what do you need first? Coffee? A snack”

Brad’s mind recoiled, hating every word, every exaggerated gesture. He was trapped, forced to watch and feel everything Blaine did, powerless to fight back.

“None of that, I was thinking something more… personal,” Mr. Gaines said as he walked to Blaine, grabbing his shirt and tucking it behind his head. “And you’ll do exactly as I say.”

“Anything for you, Mr. G!” Blaine said with a wink as he got on his knees, his small hard cock pressing on his thighs and leaking in his jockstrap.

As Mr. Gaines’s hard daddy cock entered Blaine’s virgin mouth, he came, leaking through his ripped jeans and directly on the carpeted floor. Mr. Gaines laugh and started to face fuck Blaine even faster with a smile on his lips, not caring about Brad's gagging please for this to stop. “I think you’ve learned your lesson son. And you’ll have to clean this up!”

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Here is my contribution to the story swap I did with @misctf. Go check his content if you haven't already. He has lots of great stuff there. See you soon!

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡  ｡✭･ﾟ

It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.

The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.

It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.

He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.

And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.

He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.

So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.

Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?

It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.

The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.

Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.

Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.

Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.

Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.

Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.

"What's up?"

He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.

"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.

normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.

maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.

but you finally find the courage to kiss him.

Follow my library blog for fic updates! @espinosaurusrexex-library

[faithshouseofchaos]

Max' older brother who charles has had a crush on since they first met, where charles figures out that older brother has been holding back in raceing so their dad focuses on him so he doesnt hurt max, and charles is in awe because older brother could have made it into formula 1 a while ago and charles doesnt think hed be able to do something like that if it were him, so charles decides to help male reader as much as he can without being noticed.

I had someone else try and write this to see if theyd been as enthusiastic as you in writing it but no its like they didnt understand the ask @/playinbillie if you want to see what they wrote. Also this was kinda one of the two stories i had for you i didnt actually know the pairing i wanted for this one so i just made it charles, but the other is a oliver x kimi x male reader.

.

Unspoken sacrifice — Charles Leclerc x male!reader

Word count— 1777

Fluff slightly angsty

The sound of the engines roaring around the track echoed through Charles' chest as he sat in the stands, his gaze fixed on the cars speeding past. But his attention wasn’t on the race; it was on him—Y/N.

Max's older brother. The one who could’ve been great.

For years, Charles had watched from the sidelines as Y/N, despite his obvious talent, kept himself from rising through the ranks of racing. Every time they’d go karting, every practice session, Y/N would leave everyone in the dust—except for Max. The family dynamic was always clear. Their dad, a former racer himself, was invested in Max. Obsessed with Max.

But Y/N? He was always the silent presence in the background, holding back in ways that didn’t make sense to Charles at first. There was something about Y/N’s racing that seemed... off. Too controlled, too careful, like he was playing a different game entirely. Charles hadn’t realized why until recently.

It was after one of the practice races, as he sat next to Y/N on the cool metal bleachers, watching Max celebrate his victory with their dad, that it clicked.

“Y/N, why didn’t you go for the win?” Charles had asked, his brow furrowing.

Y/N gave him that knowing smile, one that always seemed to hide more than it let on. “Because he needs to be the one who shines. Max... he’s the one Dad focuses on. You know that.”

Charles stared at him, confused. “But you— you could’ve taken that first place. You’ve always been better than me, better than Max.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted toward the ground, his voice quiet. “Sometimes the best thing you can do is step back.”

Charles frowned, his mind racing. “But why? Why hold back? You could’ve been in Formula 1 by now. Why give that up?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, the weight of the years they’d spent together suddenly sinking in. “Because, Charles, if I push too hard, Dad would want me to push Max harder, too. And Max isn’t ready for that. He’s not me. I’d rather see him succeed than risk seeing him burn out.”

Charles was stunned. He hadn’t realized how much Y/N had sacrificed—not just his dreams, but his entire future—for the sake of his younger brother. It wasn’t just about racing. It was about family, about love, about keeping Max safe.

And it broke Charles’ heart.

The thought of his older brother never having the chance to race for real, to chase that Formula 1 dream, made him feel a sharp ache in his chest.

"That's... that's really something, Y/N," Charles said quietly, feeling an overwhelming surge of admiration for the older brother he'd never truly understood before.

Y/N shrugged, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s what family does, right? You put them first.”

But Charles wasn’t sure if that was enough anymore.

He’d never be able to do what Y/N had done. He would never have the strength to hold back when it mattered, to throw away his own potential for someone else. Y/N had given everything, and Charles had only just realized it.

And now, watching Y/N quietly fade into the background again, Charles made a decision.

“I’m going to help you, Y/N,” Charles said suddenly, surprising even himself. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. I won’t let you fade into the background.”

Y/N looked over at him, a surprised yet knowing look crossing his face. “Charles, you don’t need to—”

“I know,” Charles interrupted, his voice firm. “But I want to.”

Y/N gave a small chuckle, ruffling Charles' hair. “You don’t have to do anything for me, kid. You’ve got your own career to focus on.”

Charles didn’t reply, his mind already planning how he could work in the shadows, how he could help his brother rise again without anyone noticing. Without Max ever knowing.

He wouldn’t let Y/N’s sacrifices be in vain.

And maybe, just maybe, they could still achieve the dream Y/N had set aside for so long.

Over the next few weeks, Charles found himself subtly changing the way he approached his time with Y/N. Every practice session, every karting weekend, he was paying more attention—not just to his own racing, but to his older brother’s every move.

It wasn’t hard to see how much Y/N was holding back. He wasn’t just playing it safe; he was actively limiting his own performance, choosing more cautious lines, braking earlier, and settling for second or third place when he easily could’ve taken the win.

It frustrated Charles more than anything. Watching Y/N squandering his potential, doing exactly what he’d done his entire life: taking a step back for the sake of someone else.

And it made Charles feel helpless. He wanted to shout, to demand that Y/N race to his fullest, that he deserved more than the life of a background player. But he couldn’t. He understood now why Y/N was doing it. He’d made that sacrifice for Max—and maybe even for their father. It wasn’t just about being in the spotlight; it was about keeping the family dynamic intact.

But Charles wasn’t going to let it go on forever.

One night, after a particularly difficult race where Y/N had barely edged out Max for a second-place finish, Charles made up his mind. He needed a plan. He needed to help Y/N, even if he had to do it in secret.

"Y/N," Charles said casually as they were cleaning up their gear, the two of them alone in the garage. Max was off with their dad, discussing strategies for his next race. "Have you ever thought about going to some of those off-season testing events? The ones where they bring in reserve drivers, or... younger talents?”

Y/N gave him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been to a few. A long time ago. But you know as well as I do, they won’t give me the time of day. Not with Max in the picture.”

“I think you’re wrong.” Charles smiled, trying to hide the excitement bubbling up in him. “What if I can get you into one of those events? Just a test run, no pressure. I’ll set it up.”

Y/N gave him a bemused look. “And how exactly are you going to pull that off? You don’t have the connections—"

Charles leaned in closer, his voice low but confident. "I do now."

For the next few weeks, Charles worked quietly behind the scenes, making calls and sending messages to everyone he knew—engineers, team managers, even his own contacts within the F1 world. It wasn’t easy. Y/N wasn’t exactly a household name, and most people were only interested in the young stars, not a 25-year-old with years of untapped potential. But Charles didn’t care about the odds.

He couldn’t let Y/N’s talent slip away, not when he knew what his brother could truly do.

It was a month later when Charles finally received the response he’d been waiting for—a private testing session for a mid-tier team looking to give fresh talent a shot. It wasn’t Formula 1, not yet, but it was a step in the right direction. A foot in the door.

He waited until the perfect moment, when Y/N wasn’t expecting it, and told him about the opportunity.

“Y/N, I got you a test with an F1 team. You’re going to drive at their private session next week.”

Y/N blinked, looking at him as though Charles had just said something absurd. “What?”

“I did. You’re driving for them next week.”

At first, Y/N didn’t believe it. He laughed, like Charles was making a joke at his expense. But the more Charles pushed, the more he explained how hard he’d worked to arrange it, how he’d bent a few rules and called in a few favors, the more Y/N’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to... gratitude.

But even then, Y/N hesitated. "Charles, you know I’m not—"

“You are ready,” Charles cut him off, standing firm. “I know it. I know you could’ve made it into F1 years ago if you’d wanted to. I won’t let you give up on it.”

There was a long silence. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. "Alright. But you better not tell Max about this. He’ll never forgive me if he finds out.”

Charles grinned. “Deal.”

The week of the test, Y/N’s nerves were palpable, though he tried to hide them. As they stood by the track, Charles watched him suit up, a wave of pride crashing over him. His brother was about to show the world what he could really do—and no one would know who had pushed him there.

Charles knew it wasn’t enough just to get Y/N the test. The hard part was making sure Y/N knew he had someone in his corner. Someone who believed in him—not as the background player or the second-best brother, but as the talented, driven racer he’d always been.

The test went better than Charles could have hoped. Y/N drove like he was born for it. Fast, fearless, and precise, he outpaced every expectation. By the end of the session, the team’s engineers were already talking about bringing him back for more testing.

But Charles didn’t want to get ahead of himself. This wasn’t the finish line. This was just the beginning.

As they packed up to leave, Y/N clapped him on the shoulder, a grateful, somewhat overwhelmed look in his eyes.

“Thanks, Charles,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to say... I didn’t think I’d ever get a shot like this.”

Charles smiled, the weight of the unspoken promise hanging between them. “You don’t have to say anything. Just keep driving. I’ll make sure you get there.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Y/N’s performance in the test had caught the attention of several teams, and before long, he was back on the radar. Charles helped when he could, keeping things quiet and making sure that Y/N’s success stayed under the radar. Max never knew what had really happened. And Y/N, though hesitant, slowly began to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could make it to Formula 1 after all.

But it wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was about a bond between brothers, one that went beyond the track. A bond that said: I’ve got your back, no matter what.

[ninikrumbs]

taste me too

Satoru Gojo x reader. fluff. domestic satoru. teeny weeny bit of angst

Ever since you started dating Satoru, you have never felt that tinge of loneliness you use to feel. Not that you minded being alone. It was peaceful.

You used to go watch a movie in the cinema alone. Eat at that new restaurant with a table for one. Have cozy nights in with homemade face masks and belting out to your favorite singer of the week, self care and whatnot. In your opinion, why miss out on the things you want to do just because you’re on your own?

But now, you look to the side and there’s another hand in your popcorn basket, just as giddy for the Barbie movie. You look down at your plate and you see your steak already sliced for your convenience under the romantically lit restaurant. The man in front of you with bright blue eyes, gazing at you so endearingly with a goofy grin on his face as he listened to you babble about your day. And lastly, it wasn’t just you belting out on your hairbrush with a matcha green face mask on his face and a headband pulling back his snowy white hair.

Maybe you didn’t mind being alone, but with Satoru sitting on top of the toilet seat as he gazes up at you almost reverent like - silently waiting for his turn to try out the new lip balm you bought for the cold winter months-always wanting to be included, your eyes burn.

“Toru, stop staring.”

He pouts, “I’m just waiting for you to be done.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before you continue swiping the new balm on your dry lips, it smells like strawberry. Satisfied, you smack your lips together with a grin. Lips now soft and moisturized. “Wow! its really nice and doesn’t feel sticky.”

You turn to Satoru to hand him the lipbalm. To your surprise, he was already standing up, looking at you expectantly. “My turn, my turn!”

You laugh at his excitement, shaking your head fondly. “Here.”

You missed the mischievous glint in his eyes as his hand reaches up to supposedly grab the lipbalm from your hand. He then seemingly misses and cups your face instead. You were slightly taken aback, confused at what he was doing. “Toru what-”

You were cut you short when he leans down and plants his lips on your newly glossed ones. Your mind somewhat convinced yourself that he was ruining your lipstick so you push him back a bit. “Toru-”

But to no avail, as he pulls you by waist, flushed to his chest. He angles his head and kisses you again, deeper this time. It makes you feel warm and hazy. The smacking of lips echoes throughout the bathroom, the balm only making it more distinct. You grab onto the collar of his sweater to ground yourself. The kiss is slow and passionate and as he licks your bottom lip, his tongue tangling with yours, you forgot why you were protesting in the first place.

To your dismay, the both of you needed oxygen. You pull away first, his lips chasing yours before you hid your face in his chest, breathing heavily. “Let me breath a sec,”

He wraps his arms around your body and you feel his heart thumping fast through his chest making you smile. He chuckles, the sound flitting through you. “You’re right, it is nice- amazing even.”

You lift you head to glare at him but it has no real force behind it. “You’re shameless, you know that? Here I thought you wanted to try it!”

And he has the gal to grin, “I did try it!” He licks his lips and hums in delight, yet you doubt there were any traces of the lipbalm left. “Tastes so good too.”

Despite everything, you feel your face burn. “Youre officially kicked out of self care night!”

“What? Nooo! Baby, I was just teasing-”

Yes, you might not have any shred of peace ever again, but you don’t mind. Not one bit.

^^ comments are much appreciated <3

[eirenical]

Oooo whump ask! How about hypothermia for Xiaoge?

...I really wanted this to be whump for you, @fixaidea, but somehow it turned into fluff? Oops? XD

[if anyone else would like to spin the wheel and send me a prompt, here's the post!]

"Xiaoge! Xiaoge, your hands! What happened?"

Zhang Qiling let himself be led into the house, Wu Xie's worried tones following him into that badly needed warmth. It was far from normal to have snow this late in the spring, but it wasn't unheard of. He would have been fine on his own, would have known what to do to keep himself warm through the night and make his way back in the morning. But he couldn't take that chance. He could have survived... but they couldn't.

Zhang Qiling slowly shifted his arms out away from his body as it began to shiver, then just as slowly pointed towards his midsection. From inside his jacket, wrapped in his mittens, his scarf, and every spare article of clothing he could wrap around them, came several tiny, high pitched mewls.

Pangzi guided Zhang Qiling to sit on the couch, wrapped him in layers of blankets warm from the drier and a warm wool cap, then placed a cup of warm tea in his hands and ordered him to drink. Wu Xie fished through the layers at his waist, and with each layer he pealed away, the mews turned more and more strident, but strong for all their unhappiness. As he pealed away the last later, two VERY vocal kittens tumbled out into Xiaoge's lap and immediately began exploring.

Wu Xie put a hand over his face as Pangzi began laughing above them.

"You... you risked hypothermia to save a pair of kittens? Xiaoge... don't we have enough?"

One of the kittens had wormed its way back into Zhang Qiling's jacket as Wu Xie spoke, and the other now climbed up to curl up in the crook of his neck. He simply stared back at Wu Xie, a soft smile drifting across his face as the kittens began to purr. As expected, Wu Xie's face relaxed into a matching smile barely a few seconds later. "All right, all right, what's two more, I guess?"

Zhang Qiling let himself be tucked in on the couch after that, more warm blankets piled up over him and the kittens purring away, as his body temperature rose back to a more normal range.

It was a strange thing, to have a home, to have people who cared not only that he was physically able to do his job, but that he was comfortable... that he was happy. Some days it still felt like a dream. But Wu Xie was sitting by his head now, gently stroking it as he dozed, and Pangzi was tucking little warming packets in various places around the pile of blankets, and there were kitten purrs in his ear, and if this was a dream, then it was one he never wanted to wake up from.

[uchihaxitachi]

senses haywired — hokage itachi x f!reader

a/n: needing a bath in holy water but it’s been a while i wrote smut with my boy <3 last kinktober to be precise i think 🤔 but yeah~ it’s cute 🥰 also,,, i wrote it while i’m in a cab travelling so it’s not beta’d we die like shisui when it comes to allat :<

warnings: cunnilungus, prone!bone, overstimulation, slight-nipple!play<3 fluff and softness between hokage itachi and his wifey!!

you can’t really give this feeling a proper name, it’s a mix of emotions. it’s mingling submission followed by tortorous brattiness. and itachi also loves this. you know the leaf’s hokage has a lot of workload on his hands, but it’s not your problem that he also has a wife. a wife he’s married to since a year and a half. a wife he’s after ever since he was a silly boy. whenever he would have tough missions where he was unable to see you, six year old itachi would decently stop by your place & give your mom flowers with a soft blush on his face. “uhm~ auntie, these are for y/n.”

you always remembered him by your side, and now to have him as your husband feels surreal. itachi was not very comfortable with expressing his emotions but after so much time with you, he is pretty eager and expressing them with ease is second nature to him.

today itachi’s been missing you a little extra, it’s just something about you that’s been enticing him since morning. when you prepared his coffee and kissed him goodbye for work~ itachi’s sharp gaze continued to linger closely, to observe you. “i miss you already.” he hums, a soft pout on his features when you chuckle. “then come home soon.”

and he does, he does come home sooner than expected. the knock itself tells you that its him. you opened the door with a beaming grin, watching him softly. “welcome home, hokage sama.” itachi’s hat is taken off instantly, next comes off his robes. you can’t get enough of him, he can’t get enough of you. his hands are desperate, not so skilled right now… touches sloppy and rough, like he’s starving and couldn’t care less for the etiquettes.

you’re leaned against the wall instantly, legs wrapping around his waist as you gasp out, leaning your head back to give him more access to you. “someone missed me.” you snorted, gasping and chuckling when all he responds by is an affirmative growl. “very much.” he croons later, the tip of his nose nuzzling against the supple & sensitive skin of your neck.

one thing about itachi is that he is a marker, he loves when his marks on your body are visible to him. something about the deep imbedded uchiha instincts and genes getting soothed with the fact that you are his, and you belong to him & him alone. his teeth gnaw at your neck, suckling softly at your collarbone until your skin breaks into a beautiful purple hue.

itachi knows every part of your body by heart, the way you smell, where do you have moles, what scars have you endured… everything. his fingers waste no time in ridding you off of your clothes, while yours also desperately seek his naked body, the skin to skin touches being paramount in this moment between you & him. “fuck, ‘tachi i love you so much.” you whine, continuing to kiss him & leaning back to catch your breath while he takes you to your shared bedroom.

“i love you more, i love you almost suffocatingly, my angel.” itachi croons, kissing you softly while his hands find their way across your supple tits, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples as he kisses down the valley of your breasts, along your pelvis, spreading your legs to gawk at your glistening cunt. his sharingan always comes out, no photographic memory would ever serve your beautiful pussy right. he has to do that everytime he sees her. “she missed me.” he talks about your glistening hole. leaning in, inhaling your sweet scent and letting his tongue flatten across your needy clit.

the sensation shoots pleasure from your spine to the very soles of your feet. itachi is dedicated to see your face contort in extreme pleasure, eyes fixated on you while he feasts oh you, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit, rummaging through your insides & tongue fucking your needy slit. “mine.” he growls almost in a haze, pushing the hood of your sensitive bundle of nerves back and hacking your pleasure with sadistic intensity.

soon after you’re writhing beneath him, trying to squirm away but to no avail, itachi’s hand pressed on your pelvis to keep you still. “don’t move, angel.” he says rather sternly, however the affection is still lingering quite easy. you managed to nod meekly, brows furrowed as the pleasure rapidly builds and the knot on your pelvis tensing.

“gah— please, itachi!” you mewl, squirming out. itachi knows when you are in desperate need of release. he’s done this more times than he can count. “go ahead, little one. cum for me.” the words come out in sweet seduction, and your body has no choice but to obey. squirming and tipping off the edge while he continues to drink up your pleasure.

soon, it subsides into a dull ache, the intensity of which is increasing with every passing second. itachi can’t stop. he doesn’t want to stop. you just made a hungry lion taste blood. your pleas are heard but ignored, he knows you can take it. he’s done this before after all. your hands desperately tug at his hair as you try to push him away. “agh— ‘tachi, s’ too much!” you moan, and he only locks your hands away against the mattress, intertwining his fingers against yours. he needs this.

once you’re bolted down back in bed, you know you have no choice but to give him what he wants. another mind melting orgasm, that is. your eyes close shut, lips swollen from how much your teeth gnaw at them. “oh shit—“ you whine out, mewling like a little cat when his tongue’s assault only continues further.

the pad of his thumb pushing your clit’s hood up, the tip of his tongue roughly tickling at your swollen & sensitive clit. you’re screaming out when the second orgasm hits you, shaking violently like a dry leaf. itachi hums in approval, smirking at your cute and yet, a little pathetic state. kitten licking at your heat over and over until he’s taken every last drop out of you.

you pant heavily, the force of two orgasms is enough to wear you out, but you want itachi, you want to feel him against you. desperately, carnally… and when he turns you on your belly, you know what’s coming next…

itachi has a pretty dick, when you say pretty… it’s not docile. it’s just pretty. just the way itachi is, pretty but dangerous. there are ridges and nerve endings across his shaft, the tip mushroom like but thick. he’s big, uncomfortably so, but you’re used to him.

itachi’s hands are quick to spread your ass cheeks, thrusting his member all the way in in prone, watching you whimper & squeal as he pierces himself to the hilt, ripping the bandaid off. “sssh~ you got it, you got it sweetheart. all the way in.”

his hips roll back and forth against you soon enough, while he torso leans in to pepper soft, sensual kisses. “so pretty i start to lose my senses. you’re lethal, my dear.” he hums, feeling your spongy walls clamp down at him desperately at every single touch. “so cute and adorable the way you cry.” yes… itachi’s cock makes you cry, in the best way possible. you’re reduced to a sniffling mess from it all. the pressure of the mattress on your belly enough to make it all the way intolerable.

“please— please—“ you are mindlessly babbling, eyes rolling back. itachi loves it when you’re fucked out like this. so cute… he thinks to himself. a carnal part of him wants you to be always cockdrunk and a little tipsy on pleasure he wonders…

you’re clamping desperately by the time his pace increases, sound of soft pap pap paps echoing in your shared bedroom. “that’s it, you’re like a mould. fitting me so well, made for me.” he croons, kissing your jaw.

his own thrusts are turning sloppier, balls tightening to empty his seed deep in your womb. “that’s it, show me how much you need me darling.” he coaxes you gently, and the tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. you are quick to tip off the edge, screaming softly as you feel itachi’s thrusts turning faster, more brutal, almost punishing before he empties his balls into you, coating your insides with warmth. “so- perfect.” he chokes onto his own voice a little, sighing and laying atop you, both of you a mess.

“i love you, my wife.” he reminds, kissing you softly and wiping off any stray tear from your face. “going to prepare a bath for us.” aftercare king immediately taking over the throne.

“mm~ i love you too, ‘tachi…”

[misspelledwordswizard]

Heyyyy, it's meeee. Looking for more Sky fluff because Sky is rotting my brain.

fluff coming out! Sky needs more love, I plan things for him in the future ;)

Afternoon nap

I had been looking for him for hours, I looked all over the camp and still didn’t see any sign of the blond. It was official, I had lost my boyfriend. Well, maybe lost is a strong word, but that was enough to make me despair. None of the boys had seen him since the last time I saw him, two hours ago. 

I looked for him all over the camp, and nothing. So I went to the nearby town, walked all over it asking for a blond guy in a white cape. Nothing. I went back to the camp and he still wasn’t there. Now, I was betting everything on the nearby forest. I don’t see any reason why he would be there, and if he is, then he must be in trouble considering how long he’s been missing. But that was my last hope. 

The sunlight passed through the leaves of the trees, projecting onto the ground and illuminating my path through the silent forest. The wind howled, messing up my hair. In a way, this forest had its peaceful charm, maybe he wasn’t exactly in trouble, but it’s good to be careful. 

 It was a few more good minutes of walking, and no sign of Sky. Where could he have gotten to? Of all the things I expected to happen today, losing my boyfriend was not one of them. I sighed, tired from so much walking, I couldn’t give up now, maybe I should look at the other side of the forest now. I started walking in the direction where the camp was, but I was stopped by tripping over something and falling straight to the ground. I was about to curse whatever made me fall, until I realized that it had been the one I was looking for. 

Link was there, sprawled on the ground, sleeping as if nothing had happened. That’s it, after hours of searching, I simply stumbled upon him. And on top of that, he had been sleeping this whole time. I wanted to be mad about it, but the relief of knowing that he was okay was much greater. 

— Oh, Sky, what should I do with you? – I said smiling, he looked really adorable sleeping, but I couldn’t leave him here, and I have no way of carrying him back to camp, so I’ll have to wake him up. 

As much as it’s really a shame, I know he can’t sleep tonight, not after I had a nightmare. He woke me up worried, I was sweaty and scared, I must have woken him with my sudden movements. I thanked him and said it was okay, that he could go back to sleep now, but he insisted on staying awake in case it happened again, and even though I tried to convince him otherwise, he wouldn’t give up on that decision for anything. My hero. 

I let out a breath of air, right, I guess I owe him that one. That one and many others, actually. I went to him, lying down next to him and hugging him comfortably, I could feel my eyes tired too. We still have a while before it gets dark, so it wouldn’t be a problem if we stayed here for a while, just take a nap. 

 Well, just this once. 

[magicalbuttertarts]

AEW Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: oral (m receiving) cum swallowing. Pussy fingering Unprotected sex (p in v).creampie

Photos do not belong to me.

Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.

From my previous account plentyoffandoms.

WC: 1439

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

"I am sorry, but there is only one bed." The staff member behind the desk said once more.

"Well, as you can see, there are two of us, and we are not in a relationship."

"I understand that ma'am, but there is nothing that can be done."

I was ready to rip into the poor hotel staff member when James placed his hand on my shoulder and held his hand out for the key card.

"We will make it work." Was all he said.

I went to open my mouth to complain once more when he just shook his head no at me. I sighed, knowing he was doing the right thing.

I muttered an apology to the staff member and followed James to the elevator.

Once the two of us were in the room, I looked at the bed. It was only a queen size. "It is for only one night." I said to myself.

"If you would like, I can sleep on the couch." I looked at the couch, and I shook my head no. "You are taller than the couch, and you have to get a good night's sleep for your match against Mike. I'll take the couch."

"No, you will be sleeping in the bed. I will not have you sleeping on the couch. We are both adults. We can share a bed." Was all he said before going into the washroom.

The problem is, I sleep naked. I hate sleeping with clothes on. Always have, but I can't sleep naked next to James.

I grabbed the longest t-shirt I had and begrudgingly pulled it over my head and got under the covers.

It was already a bit late when we checked in, and me throwing my little hissy fit did not help any.

I was facing the opposite way when James came out of the washroom. "Going to bed already?" He asked.

"Yeah. May as well."

"Look, why don't we watch a movie and then go to bed."

I thought it over, and it sounded good to me. "Okay." I sat up and propped myself up against the bed.

◆

"This movie is terrible." I groaned.

"It isn't that bad." He couldn't take his eyes off the TV screen. I should have picked the movie instead of him picking Shortbus.

"I have a feeling you wanted to watch porn, but you can't cause I am in the room." I teased, but instead of him denying it, his face seemed to go red.

"I can just step out if you need to take care of business." I tried to offer.

"Thank you, but that isn't going to help. I'll just have to deal with it tonight."

The mood was now ruined. We turned off the TV, and I laid down, trying to sleep.

◆

I couldn't sleep due to the fact that I was wearing clothes, and oh, James kept moving around.

After him tossing and turning for what felt like was the tenth time, I turned to face him and came face to face with his bare chest.

I have seen it many times, but not this close. I actually lost my train of the thought for a moment.

"Am I keeping you awake?" The shook me out of my thoughts of licking his chest.

"Yes! I need to sleep, as do you."

"I'm sorry, I can't, though."

"You are not a teen. Just jerk off in the washroom. If not, I will step outside like I offered earlier, or fuck, I will help you. Anything to get you to sleep." I was joking about the last part.

"Really? You'll help me?"

"What? No! I was kidding."

"One night is all I ask. Please." I was about to say no, but my mouth opened and on its own accord, I said,"Yes, but you owe me."

◆

James was softly moaning my name as I took more and more of him into my mouth. I was only supposed to jerk him off, but as I lay between his spread legs, my hand jerking him off, I mouth watering at the sight of him.

His chest was glistening, his back was arched, and his mouth was hanging open. Just one taste is all I wanted.

I did one long lick up his cock, before wrapping my lips around the tip and started to suck, moaning at the taste of him.

"Oh fuckin' hell. Gonna make me cum." He moaned, as he tried to pull my head away, but I just slapped his hand away.

The tip hit the back of my throat, and I gagged, making him groan, but I pushed through it until my face was buried in his pubic hair.

"Better than I imagined." Did I hear that correctly?

"So good."

"Oh shit, no." Was all the warning he gave before I felt the first rope of cum hit the back of my throat. I started to swallow as fast as I could, but some did spill out of the corners of my mouth.

I pulled my mouth away from him dick, opening my mouth to show him I swallowed all his cum.

I left James on the bed, with his arm covering his eyes, as I went to the washroom to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out with some mouthwash.

◆

I came out of the washroom, and James was still lying there naked. I was about to question why when I saw that he was hard again.

"I am not sucking you off again."

"I know, just get on the bed." I did as he asked, and he pushed me until I was lying on my back. "Let me repay you." His hand was trailing down my body, towards me legs, that were already spreading for him.

"Shit, you're soaked. That usually happen when you suck cock?" I nodded my head, moaning as he inserted two fingers easily.

I went to cover my face, embarrassed with how wet I was, but his free hand grabbed my hand. "Don't cover your face. There's no need to be embarrassed. Just relax, and let me help you, like how you helped me."

I went to point out that his cock was still hard, but nothing came out expect a gasp as he curled his fingers just so, easily hitting that spongy spot inside of me.

Oh, he is good. He is very good.

◆

I had to physically move his hand away from me. I had tears streaming down my face after he coaxed a fourth orgasm out of me.

I pushed him down, climbing on top of him, smashing my mouth against his, raking my nails down his chest.

"Need you." I whimpered.

"I got you, baby. This isn't going to last long, though." He said as I lifted my body just a bit, as I reached down between our bodies and grabbed his dick, holding it as I sunk down on his lap.

I was already so sensitive, that I felt like I was going to cum with him just the tip inside of me.

I looked down to see James, with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth hanging open. I cupped his face, "Come back to me, James." I started to move back and forth, not wanting him to leave my pussy.

But James flipped us around, and I had my back against the mattress, his hands gripping my legs to wrap them around his body.

He pulled back until just the tip was in, and then he slammed in side of me. I cried out his name.

"Hold on, baby."

His pace was brutal as he fucked me like I have never been fucked before. I came two more times around his cock, and he fucked me through both.

His cock stretched me out just the perfect amount, and I don't think I can go back to anyone else.

"Where?" My sex-haze brain didn't catch all of his questions.

"Huh?"

"Gonna cum. Where?"

"On the pill."

That was all he needed.

He fucked me like this was his last day on earth. Then his thrusts started to get sloppy until he stilled.

He came so much, it started to leak out around him, between my ass cheeks and onto the mattress.

He collapsed on top of me, and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Can you sleep now?"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

I pushed him off of me, and went to go and clean myself up. He yelled from the bed. "Yeah?"

"Want to get one bed the next time?"

I thought it over.

"We will see James. We will see."

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

[sorenwolfgang]

Soren didn’t know what love felt like. He wasn’t even sure if he could recognise it if it hit him in the face. His parents had chosen substances over him, leaving him to navigate a world that never seemed to care about his needs. Love, for him, had always been an abstract idea, something people talked about but never really experienced. His first crush, the one who made his chest feel all warm and excited, had been adopted and moved out of state. He was left behind, and no one really filled that void. The only thing he ever truly felt passionate about were the things he could control—his poems, his creative outlet. But those things, as important as they were to him, didn’t compare to love in its truest form, the kind that was supposed to be unconditional and lasting. So when Vivian began helping him order, Soren was a little out of his depth. The casual ease with which she spoke, how she knew what to ask for and how to navigate the situation—he admired it. But it also left him feeling a little lost. He had no idea what he was doing, and he was pretty sure he’d screw it up if he tried. Soren listened quietly as she spoke, nodding but not knowing what to say. Her words about her ex, the heartache she’d experienced, resonated with him in a way he didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t that he couldn’t empathise—he could, he just didn’t know how to make her feel better. Love wasn’t something he’d ever felt comfortable talking about, let alone understanding. When she let out a dry laugh, brushing off the memory of her ex, he could see how much effort it took for her to push it away. He didn’t want to dwell on it either, but the way she smiled made him think that maybe they could both move past their individual pains if they could just lean on each other. The idea of protecting her, of being the one to keep her safe in those moments when she got lost in her photography, was something he hadn’t fully processed until now. Her question caught him off guard, though. Soren met her gaze, his heart doing an awkward little flip. The simple question felt heavy in a way he couldn’t describe. Trust. He didn’t know how to give it away freely. In his world, trust was a fragile thing—something you held onto with both hands and never let slip. But there was something in the way Vivian asked, the openness in her tone that made him want to say yes, even if he wasn’t sure if he was ready. “I… yeah, I trust you,” he said, and the words felt strange on his tongue, but also right. Like maybe, just maybe, he could trust her. Maybe this was what love looked like—or at least the start of it. Her smile, that spark of mischief in her eyes, made him smile in return, albeit a little unsure of himself. For once, he didn’t need all the answers. “I guess I’m not so good with the ordering part,” he added with a slight laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I trust you’ve got that covered with those caramel whatchamacallits."

vivian hadn’t thought love was possible after her parents’ accident. being left alone had shattered her, and even though she was placed in different foster homes, she never felt loved there. it just didn’t seem possible. eventually, she realized she wasn’t the kind of girl people wanted—something that kept her up at night, crying, wishing for her parents to come back even though she knew it wasn’t possible. then she met her adoptive parents, and for the first time, everything felt right again, like her parents had sent them to take care of her. that’s when she started to believe she might actually be worthy of love, even if it still felt like a distant dream. but love kept breaking her heart. her girlfriend cheating on her had been the final straw, enough to make her shut people out. now she couldn’t help looking for red flags in everyone she met. maybe it was obsessive, but it was her way of protecting herself. she didn’t want to be broken again. she didn’t deserve that kind of pain. “i know i shouldn’t, but how can i not?” she mused, shaking her head as she spoke to soren. “i went through something awful. we moved in together. i thought i was going to marry her, but she had other plans.” she let out a dry laugh, brushing the memory off with a wave of her hand. “let’s stop talking about it, please,” she added softly. she didn’t want to think about her ex anymore. she was over her, but the ache still lingered in her chest. “i’m glad you’ll keep me safe,” she chuckled, knowing how distracted she got when taking photos. in those moments, the world around her disappeared—it was just her, the camera, and whatever she saw through the lens. “i’m always right,” she teased with a grin, her attention turning to the bartender as he listed off the menu. feeling soren’s arm around her back made her heart skip a beat, but she played it off with a casual laugh. “life isn’t simple,” she said, shaking her head before turning back to the bartender. “we’ll get two caramel frappuccinos,” she ordered quickly, “with whipped cream and vanilla, if that’s possible.” as she turned to soren, a playful smile curved her lips. “do you trust me?” she asked, her tone light but teasing, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

[yeonjune]

Yeonjun about the strain he felt while preparing for his debut solo project ✙ "GGUM" MAKING FILM

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[possamble]

I'm not allowed to be on social media for more than two seconds today but I just wanted to say that Laios will absolutely have his own reaction to all this as someone who would die for Falin but has also imprinted on Marcille as his Emotional Support Comphet White Girl Not-Girlfriend along the way

[earthmixsclowderofcats]

[aerithisms]

rotating the pub scene from 73 yards in my mind i think there is so much being said there about wales and welsh/english tension that is so interesting and is going so under discussed