#she did allow people to record so maybe not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iamred-iamyellow · 3 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Spice Up Your Life

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: max verstappen x fem!beckham!model!reader

♥ synopsis: you’re the daughter of victoria and david beckham. ginger spice, aka geri halliwell and the wife of red bull principal was in a pop group with your mom, allowing you to visit the paddock frequently and meet the one and only max verstappen.

♥ smau - fc: isabelle mathers + girls on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: ft. a few familiar footballers and no horner

-August 2024-

liked by victoriabeckham, davidbeckham, maxverstappen1, and 584,603 more

ynbeckham home sweet home

view comments

judebellingham i’ll let the united kit slide for now

ynbeckham 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

user7 i need more judeyn content

k.mbappe @/ynbeckham your dad played for madrid too you know

ynbeckham @/k.mbappe yea i know

vinijr damn 😐

ynbeckham i love you guys I swear 🫶

manchesterunited welcome back

ynbeckham let’s start the season strong 💪

user1 she is her

user6 let’s go man u girlies

user2 stop it why is @/maxverstappen in her likes?

user3 because he has good taste?

user5 i’ve seen yn at madrid games sitting next to carlos so maybe max has seen her 🤷‍♀️

user7 @/user5 it’s that versainz influence

liked by maxverstappen1, realmadrid, davidbeckham, and 483,549 more

ynbeckham madrid

tagged; @/judebellingham

view comments

erling awh she even wore your kit

judebellingham i know 😍

user1 bet max wishes she was wearing his number lol

carlossainz55 @/ynbeckham i knew you’d come around eventually

ynbeckham peer pressure

realmadrid @/ynbeckham you love us

ynbeckham @/realmadrid i do 😔

user2 i LOVED seeing david & victoria there with yn

user3 right! it was so sweet

user4 the way they were cheering on jude too 🥹

user5 idk anything about the judeyn lore…

user4 @/user5 i gotchu! with davud being who he is yn had immediate connections to the world of football. madrid and united are the two teams most people know him from so yn quickly made friends with a lot of the players like jude!

maxverstappen1 feels like everyone was there except me 😅

ynbeckham you didn’t miss out on too much but you should totally come down to the pitch one day 🙃

maxverstappen1 @/ynbeckham maybe i can just invite you over to the paddock this weekend?

ynbeckham @/maxverstappen1 ill check my schedule

user7 SMOOTH

user8 stop it did max just pick up yn in her comment section 😭

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

You pulled an already opened white envelope from your counter and spoke directly to your phone, which was recording you.

"I'm sure we've all seen the Max comments, everyone was raving about it. What I want to know is... who told her?" you pointed at the camera, sunlight reflecting off of the charms on your nails.

"I got this letter from Geri with a Red Bull paddock pass inside," you stated, pulling the lanyard out of the envelope. You flipped the pass ID over to show the camera up close, "Valid for: All Days."

You stepped back from the camera with a knowing look on your face, putting your hands on your hips.

You tilted your head, "I guess I'll see you in Monza."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

yns insta story

liked by landonorris, davidbeckham, judebellingham, and 249,785 more

view story replies

user1 she wasn’t joking 😭 she’s actually in monza

user2 whatever max wants max gets

davidbeckham i’ll be in the mercedes garage if you need me x

ynbeckham ok 🙂↕️

redbullracing @/davidbeckham you won’t be joining us?

davidbeckham @/redbullracing maybe i’d join you if i had a valid pass like yn

redbullracing 😬

user3 THEY DIDNT EVEN GIVE HIM PASSES HAHAHAHDJDJD

user5 no fucking wonder he’s hanging out at mclaren and mercedes 😭

user7 gonna need someone out there to record her and max's meeting tbh

gerihalliwell glad to see you put the paddock pass to use! can't wait to see @/victoriabeckham in Vegas <3

♡ by ynbeckham and victoriabeckham

user9 you couldn't get david passes too?

gerihalliwell I got 2 to give away... my hands are tied

user12 double it and give it to the next disgruntled dad

user8 lets go spice girls vegas reunion

user10 if they're gonna make vegas a whole thing we might as well have geri and victoria sing like they did in '97 for the mclaren car launch

user14 the f1 spice girls lore runs so deep

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Post Race Interview-

”Max how did you feel about your race today?”

“Uhm,” he scratched his head. “Definitely could have done better, the car could’ve been better, but you know congrats to Charles.”

“I saw the Beckhams in the paddock today. How do you feel about Y/n cheering you on in your garage today?”

“It felt great you know? I’ve always wanted to meet her and her family. I’ve talked to two of the spice girls now so we’re getting close to crossing that off the bucket list.” he laughed.

”Alright, thank you Max,” the interviewer said and he walked off.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, maxverstappen1, and 974,635 more

ynbeckham adorando il mio tempo qui in Italia 🇮🇹 @/charlesleclerc congrats on the win, i know tifosi is proud !! @/maxverstappen1 it was truly great to meet you, i hope we run into each other again soon <3

translation: adoring my time here in italy

view comments

redbullracing we were glad to have you in the paddock yn!

ynbeckham thank you so much for having me <3

judebellingham you better invite me next time

redbullracing @/judebellingham i’ll try my best to🫡

k.mbappe @/redbullracing if you invite him you have to invite the whole team otherwise it’s just unfair

redbullracing it’s just an inchident

user1 oh and you just know max is shaking right now

charles_leclerc he dropped his phone

maxverstappen1 @/charles_leclerc delete this

user2 seems like max won’t be following charles on insta any time soon

user3 i loved seeing her in the paddock today! i don’t think i’ve seen her at any events other than for modeling or footy

user5 hopefully she’ll keep coming back

scuderiaferrari tifosi is definitely proud of charles! i’m sure they’d be happy to see you one day in our garage @/ynbeckham 😉

ynbeckham admin 🤭

redbullracing @/scuderiaferrari stop trying to steal our new mascot you already have leo and now roscoe

liked by lewishamilton, bellahadid, gigihadid, and 1,230,583 more

ynbeckham getting ready for the versace runway

view comments

bellahadid cant wait to see you walk ❤️

judebellingham still upset I wasnt invited but whatever

k.mbappe yeah get in line

user1 you are SO stunning

maxverstappen1 can't wait to see you

ynbeckham 🫶

user2 wait a damn minute max is gonna be there?

user3 or does he just mean see her again in general lmao 😭

user2 @/user3 why would he mean that?

user3 @/user2 I dunno he posts comments like they're private texts

user7 why are we not freaking out over the heart yn posted

user6 maxyn crumbs

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by donatella_versace, judebellingham, landonorris, and 2,842,473 more

versace a collection unapologetically positive and authentically Very Versace…

view comments

ynbeckham it was an absolute honor <3

francisca.cgomes you looked stunning 😘

ynbeckham thank you kika 💋

user8 the three of them ate the runway up

landonorris hire me next

ynbeckham I think max would make the perfect model 😍

landonorris ...

user2 shes whipped for him

user3 is she wrong tho

gigihadid great to see you again Lewis <3 its been a long time

♡ by lewishamilton

user7 hang on let them cook

user12 yns dress >>

user5 lewis is completing his side quests rn

judebellingham our girl walked a runway 🥹

vinjir shes all grown up

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

yns insta story

liked by gigihadid, judebellingham, k.mbappe, and 563,493 more

view story replies

ynbeckham GUESS WHO HAS A DATE

judebellingham it was about time

user1 whoever it is wife her up

carlossainz55 if i’m the date does that mean we get to go to a madrid game

ynbeckham @/carlossainz55 wow using me for clout much

maxverstappen @/ynbeckham @/carlossainz55 couldn’t be me

user2 MAX 😭

user3 max is putting in the WORK

user5 wait a minute does this mean her date is not max?

user7 wdym?

user5 he didn’t like the post and sure he commented but certainly he wouldn’t still be trying to put moves on her is they were already going out…

user6 @/user5 you better be lying 😭

user10 NO please I need maxyn

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri, and 1,539,094 more

maxverstappen1 a much needed vacation before vegas

view comments

user1 max blink twice if you need help 😰

user2 i’m really starting to lose hope in maxyn

user3 why was he at versace then?

user4 i dunno having the seven time world champ and the two current champ contenders there is good for business maybe?

user5 yn is still going to vegas tho

user6 she could just be going there for her mom and geri

user7 guys..

user10 no please they were just flirting in comments like two days ago

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by redbullracing, brookylnpeltzbeckham, gerihalliwell, and 1,745,952 more

ynbeckham it’s race weekend! how are we feeling?

view comments

manchesterunited feeling like you abandoned us :/

user10 i can’t believe she’s missing united vs city for this 😔

ynbeckham i have to support my man this comment has been deleted

user1 yn we need a vegas vlog 😩

user2 spice girls reunion go crazy in the chat

gigihadid i’ll see you again soon <3

ynbeckham <3

judebellingham wish i could be there

ynbeckham call me when your season is over

user3 judeyn…

user7 guys what if she’s dating jude

judebellingham @/user7 i can confidently say she’s not

user7 @/judebellingham but what if that’s a cover up 🫣

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by redbullracing, ynbeckham, charles_leclerc, and 3,493,595 more

f1 for the second time in a row max vestappen has won the vegas grand prix

view comments

ynbeckham @/maxverstappen1 i’m so proud of you. love you so much ❤️

♡ by maxverstappen1

user3 MAXYN IS REAL

user7 i just dropped my phone

user10 i fell to the ground

user4 this is what we’ve been waiting for

user7 congratulations max 🫶

ynbeckham DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

max’s insta story

liked by ynbeckham, charles_leclerc, judebellingham, and 1,843,950 more

view story replies

francisca.cgomes you two are so cute together 🥹

user1 stop it they’re so adorable

user2 david is being awfully calm right now lol

alexandrasaintmleux we should double date

ynbeckham we’re so there!

ynbeckham love you so much

maxverstappen1 i love you more

liked by bellahadid, haileybieber, victoriabecham, and 2,953,290 more

voguemagazine yn beckham to be on the cover of british vogue

view comments

bellahadid congrats on your first cover i’m so proud 🥹

ynbeckham thank you bella 🫶

user1 she is SO beautiful

rhode come model for us 😍

ynbeckham just say when

user2 your favorite nepo baby’s favorite nepo baby

maxverstappen1 buying every printed issue right now ❤️

ynbeckham stop im blushing 🤭

#𝒍𝒊𝒗'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 ౨ৎ #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smau #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

2K notes · View notes

nerdy-novelist017 · 7 months ago

Text

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza.

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly.

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?”

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?”

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time.

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at.

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you.

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels.

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride.

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you.

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head.

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude.

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date.

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon.

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date.

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn.

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name.

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny.

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment.

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately.

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins.

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly.

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities.

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

#i need a biker boyfriend #benny cross #benny x bunny #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders #benny the bikeriders #fluff #imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler #benny x reader #motorcycle #austin butler fandom #austin bulter x you

1K notes · View notes

inkskinned · 10 months ago

Text

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

#warm up #spilled ink #writeblr

2K notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 8 months ago

Text

Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.

I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.

You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.

He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.

You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.

So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.

Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-

The Wayne's.

You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.

So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.

Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-

"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"

Shit- did you figure out he's batman?

Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"

Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.

"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.

"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.

"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I was bored."

"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?

"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."

Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"

"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."

"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.

He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"

"Then give me something that is."

Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?

You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."

"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."

You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."

Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."

I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.

So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.

And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)

Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.

"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"

Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.

When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.

"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.

"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.

"We had a deal-"

"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"

You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."

"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."

"What?"

He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."

Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."

Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."

Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-

Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.

"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."

girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)

#rich man has weird ways of adopting kids that dont consent to adoption #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc #batfam x reader

2K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 5 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you.

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile.

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that.

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

------------------------------

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely.

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now.

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns."

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now.

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day.

-----------------------------

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

--------------------------------

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

647 notes · View notes

r3starttt · 12 days ago

Text

STOCKINGS

PAIRING: Abby x Reader

SUMMARY: You made her a stocking

CW: tlou universe. sfw. fluff. lev included!! cs Abby is such a boy mom and ughh cute.

NOTE: For this fic Abby did not try to go and look for the fireflies again so the last fight with Ellie did not happen.

*Can you tell I love acts of service... can you tell I wrote this while listening to music for indigo...

TAGLIST: @twopeoplee @greysontheidiot @sapphic-ovaries @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @abbys-muscles @lott6i @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine

The cold floor hit your bare feet as you tiptoed your way toward a small chair near the bed, reaching for an old hoodie to shield yourself from the chill. Abby was still asleep, her steady breathing and quiet snoring letting you know she was deeply wrapped in the comfort of her cocoon. You didn’t have much time, though—she would wake the second the bed grew too cold and her arm could no longer find you, desperately pulling you closer to warm herself.

She lay on her stomach, one arm draped across the mattress, reaching into the warmth you’d left behind. The white sheet beneath her, its soft folds matching the pine-green ones above, held her gently. Loose strands of hair from her thick braid fell against the sides of her face, barely brushing her skin with each soft exhale. Her eyebrows, usually so bold, were peacefully soft, and her lips—plump and rosy—mirrored the flush of her cheeks. You couldn’t resist leaving a soft kiss near her ear, a gentle touch before you left the room.

Each step toward the door made you regret not putting on socks last night—maybe Abby’s old slippers would do. With your steps now messy and hesitant, you made your way downstairs. The worn wood creaked slightly beneath you, the house itself groaning in the quiet of the morning.

You had eventually made yourselves comfortable in this small house nestled in the heart of the woods, large enough for the three of you—Abby, Lev, and yourself. Together, you had worked tirelessly to make it a safe and secure place, not just from the infected, but from other, more dangerous people. You had made it a home.

You ensured that everyone felt welcome, particularly Lev. You took every opportunity to talk with him, to teach him what he hadn’t yet learned, and to share the things you loved—books, music, art—while helping him discover his own interests. And with Abby, your love deepened with every day she returned from her small patrols, always bringing back something for Lev—a plushie or a trinket—and for you, perhaps a new vinyl to play. She would ask you to show her the record, and later, you would listen together, the soothing classical music filling the house while you shared a quiet dinner.

As the months passed and your future materialized in the present, you found yourself gathering small gifts. It would be Lev’s first holiday, and Abby’s too, at least with you. The first time you would all celebrate Christmas together. You wanted it to be special, a way of thanking them for everything they had done for you. All the words Lev had shared when he realized you were just as broken as he was, and how, despite it all, he allowed you into his life. And Abby—your way of giving her the love she had always shown you, in the form of the most precious gift.

You knew Abby would appreciate it—celebrating the season was something she had learned from her father. She had told you once that receiving a gift was the way she could feel loved, a reminder that she was not a monster. And you wanted to show her that—wanted to remind her that she was seen, that she was loved, and that you all had each other.

Since the weather had turned colder, you’d offered to join in the patrols, even begging Abby to let you go outside. She always insisted it was too dangerous, but you knew you could take care of yourself, and somehow, you managed to sneak out on occasion. You gathered small things—some fabric, trinkets, and a few essentials. And when Abby took Lev to care for the animals you’d gathered, or when she napped after lunch, you’d use your quiet time to craft their gifts.

It wasn’t too difficult, given that they were often busy—Abby tending to the animals or decorating the little pine tree you’d dragged home from the nearby woods, with Abby’s approval, of course. You had to be careful, though, not to trust too easily that they would be distracted. But it worked.

The sight before you made your stomach flutter, like a child eager with excitement. Three stockings hung from the mantle, each chosen with care—yours in the middle. Beneath the homemade tree, a few gifts waited for everyone—unwrapped, because there wasn’t enough paper, but neatly arranged, placed with care just as the stockings were.

The next task was to light the fire, to warm the house and prepare breakfast, just as you had for months. It was small, but it had become part of your routine—after all, lunch and dinner were a family affair, something you all shared.

Once the food was ready, you made your way upstairs. The light from the cloudy sun streamed through the windows, warming the house with its yellow hues. You returned to the bed, noting that Abby was still asleep—though not for long, it seemed, as her lips were slightly parted and her breathing had shifted into quiet mumbling. You sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand and brushing the stray hairs from her face before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Abby... Abs—baby?" you murmured, tracing soft circles on her back, the rhythm calming her as her mumbling slowed.

"Abby..."

Her eyes opened slowly, clearly disoriented by the nightmare and the sudden waking, but you were quick to soothe her. "Shh, I’m here... It’s alright. You were dreaming."

She grasped your hand, groaning quietly before turning to face you, her face flushed with the softness of sleep, her lips plump and cheeks full. The sight made you smile, warmth blooming in your chest.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured, trying to pull you back into bed.

You chuckled softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Not yet..."

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Is Lev awake yet?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep as she rubbed her eyes.

"I haven’t checked, but... probably not," you hummed in response, pausing to study her, to savor this moment of quiet contentment with the woman you loved. A slow, peaceful morning like this was a dream come true for many—and here you were, living it.

"Breakfast’s ready," you added, patting her stomach lightly.

You leaned in for a kiss, despite her typical aversion to those unshowered, still-groggy moments. But you couldn’t care less—she was the woman you loved, in all her unrefined beauty, even in these fleeting moments.

"See you downstairs, alright?" you murmured, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

She nodded, but you knew her well.

"Abigail... I’m serious."

She laughed quietly, rolling over and letting her arms fall to her sides as she stretched out. You left the door open as you moved to the curtains, letting the light in while ensuring Abby wouldn’t fall asleep again. You then made your way to Lev’s room, the blue walls of his space greeting you.

He was tangled in blankets, his back to you, but you gently brushed his shoulder, calling out in a soft whisper.

"Lev... morning."

"Morning," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

You smiled, the privilege of caring for this young boy—who still had so much ahead of him—filling your heart.

"Breakfast is ready, alright? Take your time." You caressed his shoulder before stepping out of his room, hearing Abby’s groan as she dramatically climbed from the bed.

"Did you take my shoes?" she called out loudly, too much for the quiet of the morning.

"Yep! I took your slippers," you teased, and Abby laughed quietly in response. She was falling in love with you all over again.

You went downstairs, retracing your steps from earlier, and settled on the couch, waiting for them to come down. Neither of them knew about the stockings or the gifts—it was supposed to be a small, intimate gesture, a simple way of celebrating the season. Just making food together, exchanging small self-made gifts—maybe a letter.

But as much as you were excited, there was a hint of anxiety too. What if it was too much? What if they didn’t like what you had chosen?

"What is that?" Abby’s voice broke you from your thoughts, and you turned to find her standing at the foot of the stairs, still in her pajamas, holding the railing for support.

Her eyes, illuminated in the soft morning light, met yours—she looked so precious.

"Did you seriously make us a stocking?" she whispered, so amused she barely seemed to believe it. Maybe she thought she was still dreaming.

"I did," you said, standing and moving toward her.

"You told me once that you wished someone loved you enough to make you one. I do... I love you."

The words hit her, and you watched as she fought back tears, her jaw clenching, her teeth biting at her bottom lip before she looked back at you.

"I didn’t... Come here." She opened her arms, and you stepped into them, feeling the weight of the moment settle in.

She buried her face in your neck, wrapping her arms around you as all her emotions—fear, love, anxiety—washed over her.

You were real, and so was this. She had someone who listened, who remembered her words, who cared enough to create something special—something that said, "I love you."

And as much as she feared that this day might bring painful memories of her father, the love that surrounded her now was taking up more space. This was hers—this love was real, and it was for her.

You felt Lev coming downstairs, his confused expression slowly softening as understanding spread across his face. You had told him about the stockings, explained what they meant one evening when you and Abby had talked about Christmas traditions.

Lev hesitated, cradling the fabric of the stocking in his hands. He peeked inside, then looked up at you for reassurance. With a nod from you, he carefully pulled out each gift, his eyes brightening with quiet joy.

There was nothing extravagant or meaningful in the traditional sense—but the gifts held things they liked, things they could use, things they wanted. They weren’t

about purpose, but about love. They were a reminder that you saw them, that you loved them, and that they were always safe in your arms.

#A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ( abby )#abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x y/n #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson fluff #abby fluff #abby tlou

345 notes · View notes

ethearecals · 6 months ago

Text

10 Things I HATE About: You.

summary: James is starting to get desperate when Lily continues to reject his attempts to date her, as she reveals she's not allowed to date until her completely opposite twin sister does. which seems highly unlikely, (thats why its such a good rule). so James comes up with a grand plan to get Sirius to date her, what could go wrong?

(literally just the story of 10tihay)

wc: 1,585

pairings: evans!slytherin!reader (jeezus thats a mouthful) x sirius black

tropes: grumpy x sunshine, because of a bet

contents: angst? (if that's what we call it) to comfort, happy ending, james doesn't think before he does something, mulciber is sexist (but what’s new)

a/n: this will come in two maybe three parts so stay tuned!

Pt.1-3

(ON INDEFINITE HIETUS)

TO PUT THINGS LIGHTLY: you didn't give a damn about your bad reputation.

Lily on the other hand? did, very much so.

Which is one key reason she didn't appreciate James Potter chasing her around like a lost puppy dog 24/7 365.

Yet she was (unfortunately) falling for James, but couldn't do anything about it since she was forbidden to date by her father until you did, her twin sister.

you guys were insanely different, like night and day.

Lily was a goody-two-shoes, good grades, kept her mouth shut, a clean record.

You on the other hand- while you had also good grades, your record was not clean.

but between having shouting matches with Lucius and Severus about their sexist tendencies or muggleborn rights:

you'd been in detention quite a few times.

but people always seemed to think you were a scary, bitch of a slytherin.

but it's not like many of the slytherin's liked you always, you were a muggleborn after all.

not to mention; relationships made you want to hurl.

and Lily detested you for that.

"Can't you just be a normal person with normal person interests for once!?"

"now, where's the fun in that?" You reasoned from your spot on the library's couch.

"Y/n, Please? You know I like him." Lily begged, her bottom lip jutted out in a stupid pout.

"And? You shouldn't, Lils. He's actually daft." She groaned irritatingly.

"Where are you from? Planet Loser?"

"As apposed to Planet 'Look At Me, Look At Me!'"

"Sirius, Sirius- Please!" James pleaded from his position below Sirius, up on top his knees.

"James, you are quite literally asking me to do the impossible."

"Sirius- She can't date, until Y/N does... and- and you, you my handsome friend- can date her- so I can date Lily!"

James had his hands holding desperately onto Sirius'.

"500 Galleons." Sirius ripped his hands away from James, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Deal."

They shook on it.

You found it quite odd, how it seemed like you were being stalked all of the time.

You were at quidditch practice when a boy with medium length, raven hair came up to you.

you knew exactly who this was.

"Hi, love." he took your sweaty hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"Sirius, Sirius Black." he flashed that 'Sirius Black Grin'.

"I'm well aware." You smiled begrudgingly.

"You don't seem incredibly happy to see me, Evans." He just kept on grinning, grinning like he won the Quidditch World Cup or something.

"I'm not, Black. Please leave me alone." You gathered up your things quickly, wanting to get out of his sight.

Sirius seemed a bit put down, nobody had ever been this insistent to get away from him.

usually girls would through themselves at him.

not you though.

he liked that.

very much so.

He cleared his throat. "So, Friday then?"

you stopped walking, turning your head back to him.

"Friday? what about Friday?" You scoffed.

"I'll pick you up on Friday to go on a date."

Damn, that was smooth, even you had to admit it.

"No thank you." you weren't sure what emotion to feel at that moment- embarrassment, annoyance, irritation.

but so far, his plan wasn't working.

but it will.

you had walked off long before he left the pitch, before returning to James in the courtyard.

He slumped against a tree, sighing with annoyance.

"We're screwed." He groaned pessimistically.

"Come on, Pads. Be a bit optimistic."

"We're screwed!" He cheered sarcastically.

The days following were odd, and more annoying then usual.

Sirius Black wouldn’t cease following you around.

Slytherin had a Quidditch Game that day, and you really couldn’t stand Mulciber and Avery’s constant berating of the fact a girl was Slytherins seeker.

“You know— Mulciber, L/N is actually one of the best seekers we’ve had at Hogwarts in years.” Sirius explained proudly.

“but it seems that you can’t wrap your utterly sexist brain around that.” He cooed, Mulciber turned as red as lava.

“She’s only there for eye candy, Black. you understand she’s a filthy mud blood, right?” Mulciber barked, Sirius then wondered; with all this barking he’s doing, maybe he’d like me to throw a stick?

“and what has that got to do with absolutely anything?”

“come on, Black. don’t act like you are this muggles rights activist, you’re a Black.”

Sirius hated being reminded of that fact, he had ran away over a year ago.

“and— besides, L/n is only on the Quidditch Team because she has good tits.”

Sirius clenched his fists, before he shot towards Mulciber in an angry rage.

only he was allowed to say you had good tits.

the punches flew as Avery stood at his spot by the wall, his face not having any color what so ever. he looked like he had seen a ghost.

obviously, all good things must come to an end. as McGonagall stormed out of her office to take points away from both houses, and to instruct Avery to take Mulciber to the hospital wing and then to Detention along with Sirius.

in Sirius’ book, it was worth it.

“he got detention? for you?” Dorcas repeated for about the seventh time in the past three minutes.

“Yes, Dorcas.” You were disgusted by what Mulciber had said about you.

“come on, sugar. everyone here knows you have lovely tits.” Barty mentioned from his place shoved (lovingly) into Evan’s armpit while gnawing on his bicep.

“okay— yeah, whatever. but i certainly don’t need to hear about it from Mulciber and his pet rat.”

You bid farewell to your friends before returning to your dorm.

and you couldn’t wait to plop down on your bed and watch a movie, that was your ideal thursday night.

until something was in the way, and by something i mean a giant bouquet of flowers and by in the way i mean they were right smack in front of your door.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

you held a tiny note in your hand, having plucked it from the flowers seconds earlier.

“Dear Y/n.”

“don’t listen to Mulciber, he’s harmless. (and jealous that you actually made the quidditch team.) i siriusly (haha, get it?) want to take you out on the finest of dates tomorrow night, would you please accept?”

(: -sirius b. ps. you looked very nice today.

a smile cracked from your lips, before shaking it off and picking the flowers up off the floor.

a date? with you?

why would he want a date with you? where was this obsession coming from?

you supposed you could do it as an act of public service, (to yourself that is) since it would probably not be enjoyable enough for the both of you.

and he did just beat someone up for you.

so why not indulge in him for an evening?

Friday Night had rolled around and you were nervous, he’d only been talking to you since monday and you weren’t sure if you shared the feelings.

but after that night, everything changed.

Sirius was sweet, lovable, and overall not how he seemed.

On the outside, you perceived him as this immature, prankster of a boy who hadn’t gotten enough attention as a child so he felt the need to beg for it everywhere he went.

but on the inside? he was soft, kind, and on top of that he was a gentlemen (which was very unexpected).

“I’m sorry.” you noted.

“sorry for what, dollface?” he chuckled.

“I misjudged you.” Sirius’ brain clogged with worry.

“how did you perceive me before?”

“well— i thought you were immature.” you began, not easing his worries one bit.

“and… i thought this was all a big prank.”

“it’s not.” he quickly answered, but it was, he was lying.

it wasn’t a prank per say, but it was a bet.

which may have been worse.

"Pads!" James yelped, sprinting towards him once he came back from your date.

"Prongs." Sirius greeted him cordially.

"So? How'd it go?" He sat down like he was the best friend character in a 2000s movie hearing about the main characters date with her crush.

"Good, She seems like a nice person."

"Pads, you seem all down in the dumps." James frowned, wrapping an arm casually around his best friend's shoulders.

"What's got your mind going?" Remus did the same as the former, leaning onto him gently.

"well- I'm not sure about this, I may be a bastard but I don't want to hurt her. She thinks I'm being serious."

The worst part about this was: that Sirius was already feeling serious about it, as Serious as Sirius could be.

Seriouser then he's ever Sirius'd.

but you didn't deserve this.

and boy, did he feel shit about it.

#fem!reader #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #fanfiction #sirius black x reader #dead gay wizards #10 things i hate about you

732 notes · View notes

tsundereace · 7 months ago

Text

Gender and the Mojave Wasteland or why i think New Vegas is so popular amongst trans women

In summary someone's gender (including the player's character) does matter to greater or lesser extents amongst the various societies and some characters that they can encounter which is likely to prompt someone to think more about gender, and or will have the game recognise and affirm theirs depending on the individual anyway

I have to assume other RPG's from a similar time and or quality presumably also did this to some extent but not as prominently as NV due to it typically being singled out in this regard

There's a few re occurring elements that do add to this such as the perks that allow you to flirt with them to be more cooperative largely only working on people of a compatible orintation, and Ceasers Legion's frequent misogyny but since thats more about gender as a whole withen the game here's a few things that would have resonated with trans women specifically

First is an unmarked companion quest where you are tasked to find Veronica a dress

(For the record her default outfit is baggy with a hood make your own jokes)

"I just like 'em, you know? They make you feel like a woman. Those ladies before the War, they knew what they were doing."

Even if you forget about this she will make a remark upon placing one in her inventtory but due to how the game is coded will not actualy put it on herself

next is from the in game Radio New Vegas where between the songs one of the presenters lines is

"The women of New Vegas ask me a lot if there's a Mrs. New Vegas. Of course there is. You're her. And you're still as perfect as the day we met."

and last but not least in the player's house within the Old World Blues DLC comes with an AI assistant who is hardcoded to call the player sir but will apologise when that is misgendering

"Sir? You are aware that I'm a woman, right?" "Indubitably, sir, but it is with a great lugubriousness that I must disclose that my programmers installed only the masculine honorific, sir. Moreover they neglected to enclose a parameter by which said honorific might be omitted altogether - over my most strenuous of remonstrances, sir."

all of these factors together would have likely catalysed some thoughts and new vegas being a very replayable game would have remained in discussion long enough for said thoughts to take shape

or maybe trans women just have better taste in video games ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#fallout #fallout new vegas #trans #transgender

653 notes · View notes

m1ssunderstanding · 1 month ago

Text

My thoughts on Beatles 64

Am I a terrible person or something because I’m genuinely having such a hard time wrapping my head around these people’s reactions to their president getting shot. Like I can count on one hand the people I’d give a fuck about in DC and I’m not crying if that happens. I’m angry. I’m scared. But I’m not sad.

Who is this covering all my loving? It’s pretty.

I will forever love Paul and George’s big and little brother dynamic. Deep, cloudy scouse: they’re in perfect synchronization. Bright, squeaky scouse: Are they? Like, where is George’s little chimney sweep costume?!

And Paul’s sharp tone calling John’s name. I don’t know, I could obsess over any little scrap of footage of them. I just love picking apart details that reveal dynamics.

George’s insecure, curious, “Are you filming now?” Compared to his over-it, sardonic, “Are you recording our conversation?” He aged about twenty years between 64 and 69.

John’s reaction to his own voice in his ears is always a straight shot of joy.

I like that they’re showing all the boys. You know, because if only girls like them, then they’re just a silly pop group, but if boys like them too, well. That’s something else, isn’t it?

One of my favorite moments. No wonder Paul took so well to shepherding. His blood pressure spiking if John gets out of arm's reach. And John is of course so happy to be pulled back in.

Their hair really was so fluffy!

John spreads his legs when he’s playing because he’s an anxious attachment. Paul keeps his legs closed because he’s avoidant. In this essay I will.

This mix of She Loves You is really highlighting Ringo’s drumming for me. He’s so talented and attractive.

This is why Paul’s my favorite, genuinely. Because he goes from the most polite, people-pleasing, tender-heart to an absolute mean girl cunty bitch in the span of less than a second.

Ringo is the quickest wit, I’m telling you, and if anyone says otherwise, I’m cancelling you for classism.

Why is it always Paul these middle aged creeps feel the need to touch? I mean, I know why. But it makes me sick. That kind of thing is reserved for the mutuals. Definitely not cops.

It’s literally sooooo funny for me seeing this guy choke up about She Loves You. Like I’m genuinely happy for him, but I was literally just over at my husband’s grandparents double-wide and they Still go on about how stupid the Beatles haircuts were and how they remember the days before the Beatles when there was ‘real’ rock and roll on the radio.

So, Paul’s been telling the story of Jim critiquing She Loves You for literally sixty years now, and originally it was with mix-ins from John and George and without a lot of artificial sweeteners. Here’s the sixty-year-old version:

Back home in Liverpool, we used to sing over some of our songs to relatives—I did to my Dad and my aunties,” he recalled. “My Dad would look at me looking disappointed. ‘I don’t know young Paul,’ he’d say. ‘I try to get you to speak properly, and you drop your aitches. Why sing ‘Yeah, Yeah’ when you mean ‘Yes, Yes?’ I tried to explain this was the whole point of the song,” Paul continued. John broke in: “Anyone ever heard someone from Liverpool singing ‘Yes’? It’s YEAH.” Paul continued: “Well, we just laughed. My Dad gave us some of the worst advice ever. He said this music thing will never last. It’s all right on the side, he’d say, BUT PAUL IT WILL NEVER LAST!” “Remember,” said George, “he always wanted us to sing ‘Stairway to Paradise’?” – Ray Coleman article 1964

What a cutie. Shouldn't be allowed.

“That wasn’t really the case.” (that America was the land of the free). He always almost gets to his political views. You know? Microdosing? Left-bating? Maybe both. Whatever.

I LOVE their funny little accents with all my heart. John does posh scarily well.

Ringoooooooo!

“Go on! Defy convention!” Quotes that define the speaker. He should sell t-shirts with that slogan.

This girl’s Brooklyn accent and her confidence are so beautiful!

Why did they buy John an ID I’m actually dying! Oh! They don’t mean, they mean like Paul’s and Ringo’s bracelets. Got it. Okay. I was like ‘are you trying to help him ten years in advance with his immigration struggle?’

The juilliard girl is phenomenal.

I want the nylons and I want the shoes.

“Would you do me a tremendous favor?” “I’m not gonna kiss you like Elisabeth Taylor.” See? Ringo is the funny one. Ringo is so fucking sharp and nobody gives him the credit he’s due.

Ronnie Spector you deserved better, Queen! I love her. She’s so gorgeous, she’s so cool, she’s so young and energetic!

Two excellent Lennonisms right in a row. “Have you been watching the newsies?” and “I don’t care,” I say as I care caringly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he has the most sunshiny smile in the Beatles.

Ringoooooo!

Not the picture of JohnandPaul singing together as “with lovers and friends” plays.

Love Paul offering Ringo a candy. In yet another accent. People need to make them talk in goofy accents more in fic because it’s incessant. But I just love them offering each other food. It’ll always get me.

See, this is what I love about John. “People have been tryna stamp out rock and roll since it started.” “Why do you think that is? What are they afraid of?” “I always thought it was cause it came from black music.” He’s not ‘honest to a fault’ or whatever the boomer men love to say. But he’s very, very blunt, and he’s not going to try and skirt anything. You know?

Literally the most embarrassing thing a person can ever be is white.

“I thought it was very weak. You know what I think, I call a spade a spade. I thought it was weaker than weak.” Cook him! And then the mimicking! I love him so much! Holy shit, that would’ve been so enraging.

And then the quiet sass of the guy being interviewed right after. “Well, the versatility, the originality. I like anything that’s original.” I love some clever tumblr web-weaving in my documentaries.

In my husband’s grandparent’s defense, the “real rock and roll” they loved before the Beatles was literally only black artists.

I love this picture for ever. Look at how tight he’s holding on to John with one hand and the other hand raised in joyous triumph, engagement bracelet visible. This is Paul in heaven.

“The whole assumption of male vs female is not prominent. They’re sort of in-between.” Yes. Love. Keep going.

Ringo’s got all the quips, again. “Ringo, look over here!” Puts his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

I didn’t know Smokey Robinson and the Miracles went to the Cavern, that’s cool! And here I was thinking I wouldn’t learn anything new from this doc. His whole interview is very lovely and generous.

I always think “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me” probably spoke to John in terms of his relationship with Paul, but I go there so easily. Anyway, Smokey Robinson had every right to be pissed that they released a cover of his song without even asking. Like that would be illegal nowadays, right? And yet he’s so kind about it.

We talk about how scary Beatlemania was and we should because it was, but it really puts it in perspective for me personally hearing Smokey say he was shot at for trying to use the bathroom.

Oh I love that we have footage of Paul taking Ringo’s picture! Makes me think of “eye of the storm” obviously, but also the way he’s mocking the photographer's jargon of the time as he’s doing it. The fact that he ended up marrying a photographer who made a point to depict him as not just “some doe eyed sex object” in her pictures, and also of his song “pretty boys” and his quotes about the sexualization of “male models”. Definitely not about anything he himself experienced. Anyway, thoughts. Strings. Pins. Etc.

Also Ringo turning to the camera still filming him, “what do you think I am, a monkey?” Remember that part in this footage where Ringo says something like, “are we ever going to have a break from all these cameras?” And he’s exhausted. It really seems like, from the footage selected by this doc at least, that Paul and Ringo were doing the bulk of the lifting at this time just with cooperating with the show biz stuff. And isn’t that (interesting? Sad? Poetic? Good?) that they’re the ones still cooperating sixty years later.

How dare they cut out “but we ain’t written no poetry!”

As John’s panicking, “how are we gonna – have you seen the kids? How are we gonna get in, then?” Paul’s just calmly going, “Hi girls!” With a patient smile and a cute little wave. “I’ll just go in and speak to the people first, okay?” I love Paul “calming-down-other-people’s-hysteria-is-my-calling-in-life” McCartney.

Cute, George introducing a song he’ll do a viral backflip to in twenty years.

I wonder what that letter is. John’s being very tender with it.

“You’re fired!” “It’s Love Me Do, whacker!” With the sweetest most innocent smile. I love when John is John, you know?

“To me they’re all obviously low or middle class, highly illiterate, unintelligent wild kids seeking a little fun and pleasure . . . I think there’s something very strange about it at the same time, something very sick. . . . I’m sure that sexual reasons have something to do with it. They find the Beatles sexually attractive and they’ve made some kind of psychological tie with them. I think the whole thing’s a little bit frightening and quite sick.” Where’s that old meme with Trump describing the democrats in the most hateful terms he can think of and people being like “yep that’s me”?

Paul stopping to say goodbye by name to each of the people who've been in their hotel room one by one. It’s giving *Opra voice* “and you please don’t hate us and you please dont hate us and you please don’t hate us”

Ringo coming back because he went the wrong way is the most me-core thing.

Paul will come in with the random shouts and yelling in the middle of a song he’s singing lead on all the way from the very beginning and all the way to the very very end, huh.

I just get filled with so much rage at this image of the Bernstein family, especially after the footage of the Gonzalezes. Like, I know I need therapy. I know. But it costs money. Anyway, all rich people can go straight to hell. “I was allowed to wheel the TV set down from the library, down the corridor and into the dining room.” Oh, were you! Well, you must be very special, then.

I wonder if Paul’s title of his exhibition has anything to do with this quote from John about “It was like being in the eye of a hurricane.”

The girl hanging on Ringo like a jungle-gym is me. I love the way he flirts, it’s so smooth, physical, casual.

Classic John moment and he doesn’t even open his mouth.

My dearest wish is that these two are happily married now, holding hands in the theater watching this.

The voice of the woman asking Paul “what do you think of the American TV” sounded extremely like Linda’s. I sort of panicked for a second. Linda’s voice is lower, but the accent and cadence and the sort of wealthy slouch is the same.

I love them picking up on the dystopian beginnings of America’s version of late-stage capitalism and broadcasting the ridiculousness of it all to a public that didn’t know any different. “The situation in China is very bad. Have you ever wondered, when you’re eating at home?”

The guys setting up wearing Beatles wigs? Ew. Why?

Ringo’s so funny! “Watch any band. If anything goes wrong, they go – Blame the drummer.” And he’s so endearing and sweet. “I just always wanted to be IN the band, not like ‘oh, I’m over here.’” Reminds me of his quote about being lonely as an only child and ending up with three brothers. What a tenderheart.

Huh. Always thought some idiots just set up his rostrum backwards. The rest of the stage spinning around it makes much more sense.

That little smile between the two of them.

George in tears! Poor baby! I really do think, with the way this affected him on another level than it affected the others, and with the way he talked about his experiences at the Inny compared to Paul (not that you can trust Paul to say anything actually gets to him) that George maybe was more sensitive to classism than the others.

I hope Paul said something to that affect to George after. “They’re working at an embassy. We’re on the road, rocking. I don’t give a flying fuck.” You know? I could see it.

Another thing I love about John. You need that guy on your team, whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish. That when people are being bitchy, you tell them to fuck off and you leave. I bet Paul, George, and Ringo were so relieved that John did that for them.

After Ringo talked about not wanting to be back behind and separate from the band, I’ve noticed all three of them stepping back sometimes to stand more in line with him when they’re not singing. I don’t know if it was conscious or natural, but either way, I love that they did that and I’m sure Ringo did too.

The looks and smiles

I usually maintain that Paul is only sexy from 60-61 and from 68-98 and from 18-now. But. This is just objectively hot, I don’t care who you are.

It’s so sweet to see George being such a ham, getting John to do silly bits with him, putting on a waiter’s uniform and passing out drinks, climbing up in the luggage compartment. I wish they could’ve somehow kept it at a pace that was manageable for him so he could’ve kept on being so happy with his life, you know? I mean it’s not like it just disappears completely. There’s some of it in Get Back and even in Anthology, but it’s just not the same.

This is what happens when you’re a slut, Paul. You get paternity suits that ruin your mood. Shame, shame.

Interesting that Paul points out Brian’s “defying convention” by having them play their scandalous rock and roll shows in all these “hallowed halls”. I’d never thought about it as Brian’s conscious decision but obviously it must’ve been, and that’s very clever and snarky of him.

“That man, who is strong enough to be gentle, that is a new man.” Betty Friedan is pro-beatle. We love to see it!

Watching Paul try to behave like a human being on stage with all of his early twenties energy is honestly painful. It’s like Kurt Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron, you know? Like I can just see him aching to let himself free, but there are weights put in place for a reason. I know Brian was right to calm them down, and this documentary is proof that if he hadn’t done his taming, either they never would’ve made it or there would’ve been all-out class warfare or something, but it breaks my heart, it really does.

Ronald Isley, again, just like Smokey Robinson, being so so charitable here, and managing to do so without playing down the fact that things were absolutely rigged against him and his group at the time. “We should be on the Ed Sullivan show doing . . .” Yes. Yes.

I looked it up, and this quote is genuine. “If it wasn’t for the isley brothers, we would still be in Liverpool.” – Paul McCartney. That’s one thing I love about him. He’s always giving – very much due – credit to his black contemporaries. People ask him about Elvis and he always says, “yes, and Little Richard.” People say he was the most innovative bass player of his time and he says, “yes, and Fred Thomas.”

Ringo literally gets me every time. George: I don’t remember Wales. Ringo: It was before you joined the group.

The way Paul talks about George living “the good life” is very much in the tone of an older brother who’s helped his little brother do well for himself, you know? It’s adorable.

Of course Paul’s out feeding seagulls.

Not even going to comment on the “i love you” thing. Nope.

Okay I do have to say, the end of this guy’s story about going to liverpool and getting deported is incredibly sweet. I was kind of ignoring him, and then when he said he met John during Imagine, I sort of braced myself. But it turned out absolutely adorable. I love John’s little antenna miming and that he promoted this guy just for having made the front page of the Liverpool Echo. It’s all very John, very endearing.

I hope Paul and this weepy old guy had a talk about healing yourself from abuse through music. There’s like a 1/100 chance, but I still hope they did.

John loves a good boat analogy, doesn’t he? “There was a ship going to discover the new world. And the beatles were in the crows nest on the same ship [as everyone else] and we just said ‘land ho!’

Love the use of “Roll Over Beethoven” as the final song.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #george harrison #ringo starr #brian epstein #beatles 64

263 notes · View notes

mixtape-racha · 1 year ago

Text

should i stay or should i go | hwang hyunjin

who knew the quiet girl in the back of the algebra classroom, and the campus's golden boy would have so much in common? // minors dni, 18+

words: 4.3k // warnings: camboy!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, dom!hyunjin, oral (f. recieving), tiny hint to orgasm control, protected piv, "sir" and "princess", recorded sex, illusions to aftercare, reader is kind of a brat and teases hyunjin at first, hinted multiple rounds, slight degradation but mostly praise

“g’night, guys. dream of me!” hyunjin grinned, biting his lip as he leaned forward to turn off his livestream camera.

he felt sticky, and messy, but god did it feel good. he worked quickly to find his wipes and clean the cum off of his torso before it dried, before pulling out his favorite lounge pants and a baggy shirt.

sure, cam work was often frowned upon, but why shouldn’t he get paid for allowing others to view his pleasure? why shouldn’t he indulge himself in the compliments of strangers on twitter who oh-so loyally reminded him how beautiful he was under every lewd or nude he posted?

in fact, he didn’t understand why people wouldn’t want that for themselves.

of course, it also helped that he was surrounded by many followers and mutuals who were even more attractive than him, making many online friends who enjoyed their sexuality just as much as he did.

speaking of which, he needed to reply to a dm from his favorite mutual. she was gorgeous in every sense of the word - and her personality even more so. they’d began talked after she praised him under one of his only cumshot videos on the app, and instantly bonded from there. it was her who had introduced him to the camming site she used, hyunjin having instantly made an account - at first, to watch his new friend’s streams, but eventually starting his own.

his most recent conversations with his friend - who used the online alias of “jae” - was about their many, many requests from their followers for a collab. either for a twitter post, or a stream, it seemed their fans weren’t too fussed. they entertained the idea, and were currently in the process of figuring out if it was actually a good idea for them.

he was more than keen - jae’s body was gorgeous, and he’d rubbed one out to her twitter posts more than once. and - although he’d never admit it - he was a frequent viewer of her streams. that was where jae and himself differed though. she was too caught up in keeping her viewers occupied, that she hadn’t had a chance to watch one of his streams, and he never showed his face in twitter posts.

so, in short, she didn’t know what he looked like. and neither did he truly know what she looked like, because she’s never done a face reveal on twitter or on a stream. he was only fortunate enough to have endless content of her gorgeous tits and pretty pussy to indulge in when he needed it.

a week later, and it was almost time. hyunjin and jae had agreed to meet at a bar near his campus, to see how their dynamic went. the agreement was that if either party felt uncomfortable, they would go no further and call the idea off. if they both felt comfortable, well…. jae would take hyunjin back to her apartment. they’d see how things went there, take a few photos for twitter and maybe if they both wanted.

then - all things successful - the following weekend, they’d do a joint stream, streaming live on both their accounts simultaneously for maximum viewers. that was his idea, a whim decision that he was surprised jae agreed too.

hyunjin dressed in his nicest semi-casual outfit before grabbing all the essentials in his bag - wallet, keys, charger, airpods, phone - before grabbing a bottle of lube and some condoms. just to be on the safe side, he told himself. he didn’t know why he was so nervous, this was literally part of his job. and he’d been talking to jae for months now. he had no reason to be scared.

that was until he got to the bar and had every reason to be scared. sitting in a booth in the corner, exactly where jae had told him she was sitting, was you. y/n l/n, the pretty girl in the back of his algebra class. there was no way, right? he cautiously approached the table, hands shaking slightly. oh god, was it really someone he knew on the other end of the phone that entire time?

“jae?” he asked, wincing at the way his voice broke, and his heart thumping when your head whipped up. you looked like a deer caught in headlights as you realized who was stood in front of you, and instantly you both worried that this was a bad idea.

“oh my god… hyunjin?” but what surprised him most was the way you broke into a grin. “thank god, i was so worried it was actually going to be a creepy old man catfishing me… come! come sit!”

were you always so bubbly? hyunjin had always known who you were, but this was so different to the quiet girl in the back of the algebra class, one airpod in at all times, glasses donning her face and never talking. he was almost whiplashed - he’d really misjudged you.

“so… i mean, know that we’ve known each other previously, do you still want to do this? if not, no harm done, and i promise i won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone about me.” you asked softly, picking up on hyunjin’s hesitance - not that it was hard, he wore all his emotions on his sleeve.

“no! no, i still want to do this.. i guess i’m just.. surprised? i never expected jae to be someone i knew.”

you grinned at that, reaching out to grab his hand across the table comfortingly.

“i get it. i didn’t expect you to be someone i knew, either. but honestly, this works really well for me. you’re hot, and i feel more comfortable knowing you’re not a complete stranger.”

he flushed at your words, but hoped you couldn’t tell under the dim lights of the bar.

“do you wanna get a couple of drinks before we head back to mine? maybe some shots, just to ease the nerves? my teat.” you smiled, pulling out your purse as hyunjin shook his head rapidly.

“no, no i can pay for my drinks!”

“hyunjin,” you laughed. “its fine. got a big tip last night, nearly $600 dollars from a private stream. my treat.” you insisted, taking his drink order before wandering over to the bar.

he couldn't help the way he watched your ass as you walked, the tight skirt doing nothing to help his already raging boner. if he’d known you were so confident, he would’ve made a move on you sooner. in all honesty, hyunjin had always had an eye for you - you were so, so pretty. the whole nerdy thing you had going on really turned him on too - you seemed so innocent, and it played into his whole corruption fantasy. but knowing now that it wasn’t true - that you were secretly a freak? it was a whole new level of turned-on. if he could, he would’ve ravished you in the toilet cubicles of the bar, but he was more classy than that. maybe next time.

before he could realize the implications of his thoughts, you came back over, passing him his drink before sipping on yours as you took a seat.

“so i was thinking we could cover the basics here? safe words, hard limits, that sort of thing? it seemed too impersonal to do over messages, you know?”

god, he didn’t think he could get more attracted to you. he barely could keep track of your conversation, only spaced-in enough to cover the most important topics. his cock throbbed in his jeans when you leaned over the table towards him, tits squeezing together perfectly under your tiny shirt. the skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that had hyunjin trying not to drool, and your thighs looked so, so biteable in contrast to the material adorning them.

he was so out of it, he couldn’t even trace the moment that you’d left the bar to go back to your apartment, not until you pushed him against the back of the door and asked him to kiss you with big doe eyes.

and how could he refuse? when you looked up at him like he was the only god you could ever submit to? when you begged so nicely? when your hands tightened on his shirt in anticipation?

he gripped your jaw, pulling your face up to meet his as he kissed you in a flurry of clashing teeth and spit. he wanted to be gentle, to be careful with you, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed you so bad, and it was like his body was acting on its own accord.

like when he flipped your positions, so you were the one pressed against the door. a moan left your lips and went tumbling into his at the way our back hit the door, and he felt himself throb at how pretty you sounded. he was quick to hoist one of your legs over his hip, pressing his body against your as much as he could.

as his tongue entered your mouth, battling yours for dominance which you inevitably surrendered to him, he grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feel of your skin making him groan against you.

he was quick to pull away from your mouth with a pop, smirking as you whined before attaching his plump lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. you keened, back arching against the door and pushing your tits against him perfectly. he tapped your ass harshly, before lifting at your other leg, hinting for you to jump as he wrapped your legs around his waist, effectively trapping you against the door.

the display of strength had you clenching around nothing, hands tugging at his hair as you panted and whined into the darkness of your apartment.

“bedroom, hyun. take me to my bedroom.” you whimpered as he bit down on your jugular, rocking your hips against him. “last door on the right.”

he grunted in response, carrying you across the expanse of your apartment, kicking open your bedroom door when he reached it. he was fast to kick it shut behind him, dropping you onto the bed once close enough and looking down at you with eyes so blown-out with lust he looked feral.

you felt small under his gaze, embarrassment flushing across you in a way it hadn’t in a long time. cam work and your nsfw twitter had built a whole new confidence in you - you felt like femme fatale, someone who could have boys falling to their knees to worship the ground she walked on, only to have hyunjin blow it all away within moments. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d wanted someone this bad, and you were damned sure you were going to make him give you what you wanted.

your hand slipped down to your skirt, lifting the material as you slipped your panties to the side, looking up at him with doe eyes as your finger circled your clit. you were so wet it was unreal, and he could’ve sworn you were about to start dripping all over the bed below you.

“gonna fuck me now, hyunie? gonna make me feel good like you promised so many times on twitter? need you so bad, need you to fill me up.” your words drawled out slightly slurred, the visual of his cock jumping beneath his jeans making you involuntarily clench around nothing. but oh, it made something in your mind click, smirking as you enticed him even more with your teasing.

“why don’t we stream it, yeah? then everyone can see what a fucking slut you are for me?”

he growled in response, lunging forward to push your thighs apart as far as they could, his eyes fixed on your cunt, slick dripping out of your greedy hole.

“oh, i’m a slut, hmm? well then, we don’t we show your viewers how quickly you’re going to cream on my cock, yeah? make them watch as you beg me to cum inside of you, have my cum dripping out of you as a reminder of how bad you want me?”

you were so caught off guard at the change of demeanor that he showed, you didn’t even realize that he’d floated over to your computer, which had your streaming site booted up in the background in case of an impromptu stream - just like now, you supposed.

turning back to you, his face had relaxed and his eyes showed concern.

“are you sure about this, what about if they accidentally see your face?” your heart warmed at his worry, shaking your head in response.

“i don’t care. collab stream with you and face reveal? two birds with one stone, just need you to hurry up and fuck me.”

at your words, his face hardened again, and he smirked, typing in the title for the stream and turning it on. instantly, pings from your computer informed you that people were joining, and it had you more turned on - if that were even possible.

‘face reveal + a special guest: surprise lovelies xoxo ~ jaecums // callmehhj’

“gonna let me ravish you now, then? let sir turn you into a brainless cumdump on his cock?”

your eyes fluttered, threatening to roll to the back of your head as hyunjin approached you once more, biting your lip as you nodded, whining out a yes.

“come on, princess. you gotta use your words for me, yeah? how else will i know what my slutty girl wants?” he asked, faux sympathy dripping from his voice as he knelt on the end of the bed, long fingers circling your hole.

“please, sir, please, need you, need you to fuck me so bad, sir, please-!”

your words were cut off as he removed himself from the bed, kneeling on the floor and pulling you towards him by your thighs. your legs hung over his shoulders, ass perched on the edge of the bed as he kissed softly up your thighs.

“gotta let me hear those pretty moans as i eat you out first, though. gonna make you cum on my face before my cock even goes near you.”

you keened as he pushed his face against your core, nose swiping against your clit as he flattened his tongue against you. “oh, fuck–!”

he hummed in appreciation, the vibrations making your hips buck against him as he messily made out with your clit, spit and arousal dripping down onto his chin. your hands laced their way through hyunjin’s long hair, grip tightening every time he decided to tease you by dipping his tongue into your hole.

his fingers were digging into your skin deliciously, and you were sure you’d have marks left behind to remind you that this wasn’t just a fever dream. your moans were bouncing off the walls, and even then you could hear the messy slurping of hyunjin gathering all of your arousal that he could into his mouth.

he was like a man starved between your legs, and it had your stomach tightening unbelievably fast. there was no way– you’d never come this fast, especially from oral. was hyunjin superhuman? you couldn’t believe that you were already feeling a coil tightening and a warm tingling spreading up through your body already.

your hands threaded further through his hair, hips bucking wildly as you tugged his face deeper into your core. “oh, shit– oh fuck, sir, m’gonna cum–!” you cried, toes curling as you tried to fend off your building release. “please! pleasepleaseplease-!” your words came out slurred, and hyunjin smirked to himself between your legs as he pulled away from your swollen clit with a pop.

he quickly replaced his lips with his fingers, rubbing delicate figure-eights on your bud while he looked up at you with faux doe eyes. “gonna cum, yeah? you gonna cum for me, baby?”

but it wasn’t enough for you as tears sprung behind your eyes, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders. “please, sir-! please, let me cum for you, please!”

hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly before his face hardened once more and his fingers sped up on your clit. he began pressing kisses to your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush skin.

“go on, princess. cum for me. cum all over sir’s face, yeah?”

and as soon as the words left his mouth, he pushed his nose against your bud, tongue lapping at your hole and the coil in your stomach snapped. you keened, back arching as your juices flooded hyunjin’s mouth, him moaning against your core in appreciation.

he stayed nestled between your thighs until your legs started twitching in overstimulation and you began pushing his head away. but god, he’d never get over the way you tasted. it was official - he’d never be able to give any other girl oral because it would never be as perfect as the way your thighs wrapped around his head. he was a goner.

hauling himself onto his feet, hyunjin wrapped an arm around your back to pull you to meet him halfway in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your slick falling from his mouth to yours. you moaned against his lips, hands falling to grip onto him any way you could before realizing he was still fully dressed. you sharply pulled away from the kiss, brows furrowed and lower lips falling out in a pout.

“take it off,” you grumbled, pulling at the material of his shirt, frown only deepening when he chuckled at you. but you could forgive him for that, you could forgive him for anything - especially when he looked that fucking good. planes of muscled, honey skin exposed to you, and you wanted nothing more than to pin him down and cover him in bites and bruises. however, you didn’t think he’d let you get away with that, so you let your hands fall to his belt, quickly undoing it in hopes he’d get the hint.

as he began removing the offending items, you slipped your skirt and top off, leaving you in just a lacy bra, to which hyunjin grinned. “so desperate for me, huh? wasn’t enough that i made you cum once, was it? my greedy girl.”

“need you inside me, please,” you whimpered, reaching out to pull him towards you. “need you to fuck me, sir, come on.”

he leaned down to plant a kiss on your head, before stepping away to retrieve a condom from his wallet. it was in that moment of silence that you could truly appreciate how many pings were coming from your computer, an indication of how much people were enjoying the stream. you were kind of excited to see how many tips you got, and were curious to see if hyunjin would easily accept half of whatever you made - he seemed like the type of guy to refuse, but you could be just as stubborn.

when he came back, he had put the condom on his length, and you nearly drooled seeing it up close. his dick was…. well, gorgeous. there was no other way to put it, and you knew damn well that you were going to be screaming with pleasure faster than you ever had.

“gonna fuck you so full of me, yeah? let everyone see what a dirty bitch you really are.”

he clambered on top of you, kneeling with one hand next to your hip and the other on his length to guide it against your hole. he’d barely put the tip in before you moaned, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how fucked out you were.

“calm down, love. let me at least get inside you before you go all brainless.”

but you couldn’t help the way you writhed and keened as he pushed ever-so-slowly further into you, not stopping until he was sheathed inside you, his public bone resting against your plush thighs.

he had his lower lip tucked between his teeth to stop himself from drowning out your pretty whimpers, but also to ground himself - you felt so warm and tight, it took everything in him not to nut straight away. he couldn’t. you deserved to squirt all over him before he even considered finishing.

you reached for his arm, fingers coming to grip the muscle as he began to shallowly thrust, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls making your head fall back as you let out a contented sigh. you didn’t think you’d ever felt so full in your life, and it was heavenly. every vein on his cock, every twitch, the way his tip stretched you out so perfectly for the rest of him. oh yeah, you could die happy now.

your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him against you as he rocked his hips, not wanting to overwhelm you and pound into you how he wanted. his eyes bored into your skin, making you blush at the way he held such affection for you in his pretty eyes. it was freeing, and overwhelming, and heartwarming all at once.

once you’d been reasonably adjusted to his size, he pulled his hips back as far as your grip would allow him, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting forward against such force it sent your body back up the bed at least an inch. you cried out, clenching on him as drool began pooling at your lips from your want— no, your need for him to ruin you.

“please, sir,” you slurred, fingers gripping at his skin as tight as the heat in your body would let you. “fuck me properly, please. wanna make a mess, wanna make you cum.”

he then growled at your words, hips speeding up almost instantly. your body rocked in its spot on the bed, tits bouncing with the pure force he was driving into you at.

the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and if you strained your ears you could hear the squelching noise your pussy made as your arousal dripped out, coating the sheets beneath you.

you knew you’d get a noise complaint from your neighbor if you kept squealing the way you were, but you couldn’t help it. especially not when hyunjin bit down on your neck, tongue rubbing over the sensitive skin, making you let out an almost animalistic howl.

it felt like he was hitting the deepest parts of you, and you couldn’t get enough of it. the way his hair swayed, the way sweat was dripping down his forehead, the way he looked at you like he wanted nothing more than to tie you down and use you as his own personal sex toy. even the way he moaned when you clenched around him, god you were obsessed.

you felt a fire building in your abdomen as he leant back on his knees, eyes trained on watching his cock glide in and out of you, and you held your legs up to your chest to give him a better view. at that, he threw his head back and let out a heavenly groan, causing you to clench around him once again.

you snaked a hand down to your clit, rubbing it furiously as the leg it was holding fell into place naturally on hyunjin’s shoulder. you were so aching close, so close you could feel your walls begging for it, but you just needed a final push.

hooking your foot around his neck, you pushed hyunjin towards you, instantly grabbing his lips with your own. it was messy, and disgusting, but you loved it. all drool, and teeth clashing, tongues wrapped around each other like that's how they’d always been.

the new angle allowed hyunjin to reach ever deeper - hitting the deepest parts of you that you didn’t even know where possible. he reached a hand up to tweak at your nipple, and you whined into his mouth as it sent you hurling into an orgasm, back arching to push your chests together.

the way you clamped down on him sent him head-first into his own release, his hips stuttering as you felt each throb of his cock as he filled the condom. you were both breathing heavily, almost panting as he pulled away from this kiss, thrusting shallowly a few more times to ride you both through your release.

your chest was heaving, and you felt like you’d ascended. all floaty and gooey, head sinking into the pillow beneath it as your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. hyunjin peppered a few soft kisses across your cheeks as he carefully pulled out, rubbing your hips comfortingly when you winced.

“good?” he asked quietly, so quiet that your computer wouldn’t pick it up, and you nodded without opening your eyes.

“so good.”

you felt him crawl backwards and leave the bed, opening your bleary eyes to follow his figure around the room. you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet, though. you thought all your bones had disappeared and you’d sink straight back into the bed if you tried.

once he’d come back to the bed from ending the stream and tossing the used condom in the bin, he scooped you into his arms and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

“you’re staying tonight, right?” you asked softly, nuzzling your head against him. “don’t think i can let you go after that.” exhaustion flooded your voice and he chuckled.

“course i am, silly. but we gotta get you showered, okay? then i can order in some food and we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

you nodded softly.

“join me in the shower?”

“oh, i don’t think that’s a good idea, princess. you’re shattered.”

“please, jinnie,” you pleaded, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “need you to cum down my throat before anything else, and sharing a shower means saving water, after all.”

he laughed at your enthusiasm, and nodded, agreeing.

“okay. okay, whatever you want. but then - food and sleep, okay?” he grinned, scooping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom.

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @skz-streamer @demetrisscarf @4evrglow @manj1ro @linocvpid @alextheweeb7 @chans-american-slave @unsweetenedpeatea @carpioassists @bangtancultsposts @reiheis @happilydeepestwonderland @leemidnightmoon @saintminaa @@hyunjinswifeee @watariisbestboy@hwangrimi @cherry-edibles @ivyisnotokay @yevene @puckmaidens

1K notes · View notes

writinginatree · 8 months ago

Text

Talks & Tantrums

Relationship(s): Garrick Tavis/fem!Riorson!reader, Xaden Riorson & sister!reader, Bodhi Durran & reader

Summary: Time to tell Xaden that you're dating his best friend.

Warnings: Just some swearing and bickering

(Sequel to Kisses & Confessions, but can be read on its own)

Garrick gets up extra early to meet you in your room before breakfast and kiss you good morning. Addicted to the taste of his mouth as you are, one kiss turns to two turns to ten, until you force yourselves to pull away. It's time to get going. As much as you don't want to, you still need to have a talk with your brother, and the sooner you get it over with, the better.

"Maybe we should meet Xaden in the gym to tell him, in case he wants to beat the shit out of me for this," your boyfriend jokes as you leave your room.

Being able to think of him as that — your boyfriend, all yours! — still makes you giddy. A few days ago, you would have never believed you'd ever get to call Garrick yours outside of your wildest dreams. And yet now he is, and you will not let the looming threat of still having to tell your brother about it ruin your good mood.

"Nah. He might not be happy about it, but it's not going to be that bad."

Garrick sighs. "Let's hope so."

"It'll be fine. You know he's incapable of staying mad at me for more than five minutes."

"I think that time you put chili in his birthday cake he actually managed ten minutes. Who knows, maybe this will lead to a new record."

"The chili thing doesn't count," you say. "Xay knew I only did that because Bodhi dared me to, he was more mad at him than me. And even if he really is seriously mad at us, we'll just bribe him with chocolate cake. But he won't be, trust me."

Reaching the stairs leading away from the dorms, you find Xaden already waiting in the usual spot. The four of you — counting Bodhi, who isn't here yet — have made a habit of walking to breakfast together whenever possible. Technically you shouldn't, because of the whole more than three marked ones assembling is illegal-thing, but so far you haven't gotten in trouble. And really — being in the hallway at the same time on the way to breakfast can hardly be called assembling. It could be complete coincidence, not to mention that there's usually more than enough other people around. It's not like they can forbid marked ones from being in a room together. You're just not allowed to be alone in a room together.

Xaden doesn't seem surprised that Garrick picked you up from your room, but he does stare at your entwined hands, his expression darkening.

"Garrick and me are dating now," you say before he can start questioning you.

Xaden's frown deepens, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Excuse you?"

You roll your eyes, and warn, "Don't throw a tantrum now, Xaden."

"If you want to avoid starting a fight, maybe you should try to be a little more diplomatic," your dragon points out.

She's right, you don't want to fight with Xaden, but that doesn't mean you'll be all nice and docile. You want to make sure he's aware you're serious about this right from the start so he doesn't get the idea he could talk you out of dating Garrick.

"Hush. I know what I'm doing."

Srian sends the mental equivalent of a shrug, apparently deciding that this isn't her problem. All the better. You know how to deal with your brother just fine; you don't need smartass advice from a dragon who's never even interacted with any human other than yourself.

Meanwhile, Xaden clearly deems a tantrum necessary. "Are you fucking kidding me? You can't just date my best friend!" he complains, glaring daggers at you.

Why it's you he's pissed at and not Garrick is beyond you — you'd been almost certain he would put the blame on his best friend —, but you're glad for it. You hate the idea of them fighting because of you.

"Oh, but I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want. And I definitely don't need your permission to get a boyfriend."

"I'm not saying you need my permission. But—"

"But what? Sorry, Xay, but you don't get a say in this."

Xaden clenches his jaw so hard you see the muscles straining as he takes in the way Garrick has his arm protectively wrapped around your waist, holding you close, the way you're leaning into him, hands fidgeting with his. Something in your posture or expression seems to convince him that no, you're not just doing this to irritate him. "Gods, you're actually fucking serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yes," you and Garrick say in unison.

"Ugh. Fine."

Xaden's tone and expression make it clear he's not very happy about it, but, just as you predicted, he accepts that there's nothing he can do about it. You're sure that once he's had some time to really think about it, he'll realize that it's not such a bad scenario. After all, who could he trust more to treat his little sister right than his own best friend? Of course the downside is, that, should there ever be any trouble in your relationship, Xaden would be caught in the middle — but you're not going to worry about that just now. It's never going to come to that.

"But you better stay focused on the important things. If this relationship becomes a distraction—"

"It won't. We're perfectly capable of being in love while still staying professional. Right, Garrick?"

"Right."

"I really fucking hope so," Xaden says, still sulking. He shakes his head. "Gods, I can't believe this shit. Couldn't you have picked someone else?!"

You're not sure if he's talking to you or to Garrick, since he's leaning against the wall with his head leaned back, glaring at the ceiling. Neither of you feels like continuing the argument — and luckily, Bodhi spares you an answer.

"If you ask me, it was about damn time they get together," he grins, instantly guessing what you're talking about as he joins you in the hallway.

"Wait, you knew she likes me?" Garrick asks.

"Of course I knew. I had to listen to her drool over you day in, day out for the last year."

"Bodhi! Shut up!" you whine, jabbing your elbow in his side. It's embarrassing when he puts it like that, and it's made even worse by your dragon's very enthusiastic agreement. You never drooled over Garrick! And while you realize that you do talk about him a lot, Bodhi is definitely exaggerating. He's making it sound as if Garrick is the only topic you ever talk about, for fucks sake!

Xaden looks from Bodhi to you, then back to Bodhi, narrowing his eyes at him like a dragon staring down its prey. "Why am I getting the impression that you knew they're dating before me?"

"Because Y/N already told me yesterday, right after they got together," Bodhi says, chuckling as he adds, "You should have seen the lovestruck look on her face when she came running into class ten minutes late."

Xaden gives you an indignant look. "Seriously? Not enough that you start dating my best friend behind my back, you're also telling everyone else first?"

"I'm not telling everyone else first! Just Bodhi. Because he is my best friend. And I would have told you sooner, too, if I'd had time to talk to you between classes yesterday. Which I didn't. So..." You shrug. "Besides, I don't have to tell you shit."

"Yes, you do."

"Nuh-uh."

"Why don't we just go have breakfast," Garrick interrupts.

"Good idea," you agree and lean up to peck his lips — or at least you try. Xaden's shadows hold you back.

"Oh no. Absolutely not. No kissing in front of me," he growls.

"Just look away then!"

"Save it for when you're alone."

"You're not the boss of me."

"No, but I'm the boss of him," Xaden says, pointing at Garrick, then at the leadership patch on his own uniform. "Wingleader, remember?"

Garrick groans in annoyance, but he knows better than to argue.

You, on the other hand, can't stop yourself from meeting your brother's glare with one of your own. "I'm pretty sure what you're doing right now is called abusing your power."

While you often find yourself wishing you were in the same wing as the boys, it's moments like this when you're glad you aren't. Not that you generally have a problem with taking orders from your brother — when it comes to rebellion stuff, you're glad to follow his lead. But constantly having him breathing down your neck and being in charge of you? No, thanks.

He merely shrugs at your accusation. "Don't care."

"You're being childish, Xaden!"

"Terribly sorry for not wanting to see my sister and best friend be all over each other right in front of me."

"Nobody is forcing you to watch!"

"That's not the point! I don't want this kind of thing happening anywhere near me, no matter if I'm watching or not."

You look to Bodhi for help. "Tell him he's being ridiculous," you demand.

"Sorry Y/N, but he kind of has a point..."

"Oh come on! We're talking about one tiny kiss! It's not like I want to start a full-blown makeout session in front of you!"

"I sure fucking hope you don't," Xaden says, and pushes off the wall he was leaning against. "I'm going to have breakfast now. If you can't keep your hands off of each other, then please don't join me."

With that he walks away. Bodhi shrugs and follows him. So do you and Garrick, but not before using the chance to steal a kiss while their backs are turned.

#garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #garrick tavis imagine #xaden riorson x sister!reader #female!reader #riorson!reader #marked!reader

334 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 11 months ago

Text

Double the Trouble

Yelena Belova x F!R (Platonic / Focus)

Natasha x F!R / Wanda x Yelena (Romantic)

Warnings: Drugs (Weed) | Alcohol Referenced

When your girls are off to save the day, you and Yelena have plans to stay and play. | WC: 1,852

Behave; this is what your girlfriends said when they left for their mission this morning, it was offensive and truth be told, only likely to warrant the opposite.

Who were they to tell you what you and Yelena should do? They being Wanda and Natasha, who lived their life off of some moral code, whereas you two didn't.

Quite the contrary really, at your cores you two were on the right side but you both also craved mischief.

To behave is to concede, and you two were far too stubborn to; to see their intentions weren't malicious.

——

Which is why neither of you listened to your lover.

There was a distinct odor to the room, bouncing off the cement walls of your garage that was decorated to look like a lounge. In one corner sat a record player that currently spun a random vinyl of Natasha's to fill the otherwise quiet space. An unlikely find when the both of you were usually in the same room together, but you were rather preoccupied and the blonde was irritated.

"Cyka," Yelena groaned, "stop hogging the blunt!"

You smirked around the damp filter, rolled your eyes then continued on, sucking on the burning stick until the smoke circling your chest sufficed you enough to allow Yelena a turn. "I am not giving this back."

"Whatever," you chuckled as you pulled another joint from the pile you'd spent an entire hour rolling. To be honest there was no reason to share the blunt, but in your sober state you'd deemed it the cautious play.

Now though, with the weed already infiltrating your mind you decided to throw all caution to the wind and sparked up another in mere seconds of losing the last.

The lack of conversation was no longer a concern, the tense atmosphere gone as you both settled into your highs... "Do you think babies can understand us?"

You snorted harshly, nearly choking on the inhale you just took in but you somehow managed to turn the cough into a burning sensation instead. "What?!"

"Listen to me Y/N Y/L/N!" Yelena pointlessly shouted, your attention was already on her. "What if when we are born we have the ability to just understand? Like, maybe our soul is still attached to our old lives?"

You hummed, "interesting," then took a final hit before putting the nearly finished blunt out so you could shift to face the blonde, with the amusingly low tolerance.

Yelena pouted, her signature expression. "What?"

"Oh, it's nothing serious Lena, it's just—I didn't really peg you for the type to believe in reincarnation."

"I don't fully," she replied with furrowed brows, and pursed lips, "I think old souls live in us momentarily before they leave to their afterlife. Leaving only a small part of themselves behind so we can be individuals."

You nodded, though you didn't quite see it the same.

"I think the ones that look like old people understand us—like, a two month old fella with hella wrinkles."

Yelena cackled, "Oh no, those babies are so ugly!"

You slapped her shoulder that had jerked off the couch with just how intensely her amusement had flowed.

"Hey, they need time to grow into their features!" You shook your head, "You can't call a baby ugly, asshole!"

"I did," Yelena flatly replied as she took another drag, smoke following her next words, "and I always will."

You looked at her astonished and she shrugged her shoulders. "What? You Americans need to face the cold hard truth, not everyone thinks your living, breathing potato looks cute. Some babies are ugly, it is simple."

You huffed, "but they're just babies, you can't—."

"Why can you call adults ugly?" Yelena cut you off.

"I don't," you groaned and she laughed, "Y/N, you literally told Bruce he was uglier than a pile of shit."

"That's different," you whined, "he flirted with Nat."

"Potato, po-tato, either way babies can be ugly."

"But-."

"Move on, I have more thoughts to explore."

"Are they all offensive?"

Yelena smirked. "Oh, most definitely..."

"Then I'll need another one of these," you concluded, one hand rubbed at your temples while the other reached for a packed joint. "Give me one too, cyka."

You passed the blonde another one then moved off of your bean bag so that you could lay on the furry rug. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold material rubbed against your bare arms where goosebumps rose. You giggled as you released a cloud of smoke and peered up at your pouting best friend. "Why so glum, chum?"

Another giggle left you as she grunted and dropped to sit down beside you, her legs crossed over one another. A rough hand gently caressed your cheek but you knew better than to trust the moment to remain sweet. In less than a seconds time she squished your cheeks and laughed maniacally as you struggled in her grasp.

"I hate you," you spat, words slurred as she hadn't let go yet. Once she did you continued to bitterly rant on, tone full of faux resentment, "I don't know why I even put up with you Belova. Wanda must be a saint."

"Because my bud is premium," she deadpanned, then her lips upturned softly. "And I'm your best friend."

You grinned then sighed, reluctant to admit, "You are."

"Come on," she shook your shoulders as she jumped to her feet. "We cannot let the weed slumber kick in yet!"

Reluctantly, you stood to your feet and wobbled over to the blonde who was stood waiting by your foldable table. Just like every time before you faced her and settled your elbow down on your side of the table.

"I am tired," you grumbled but the blonde didn't care. Her jacket was shrugged off and her hand linked with yours. "We have to be stronger than the weed loser."

"But why?" You exasperated, hand slamming hers into the table in the heat of the moment. "Oh my god!!!"

"No," Yelena immediately negated, "I wasn't ready."

"I don't care," you squealed and did a lap around the couch to release your excitement. "I finally won!"

Yelena shook her head, afraid of what you were about to say. "I get to pick your wedding entry song!!!"

"No," she growled, knowing damn well what this likely entailed. Your love for jokes superseded your loyalty.

A fight ensued as you turned the record player off and spoke, "Hey Siri, play my Yelena's entrance playlist."

"Y/N, I swear to god," she groaned, her arm swung out to swat your phone from your hand as a universally familiar tune played—clown music, how funny; not.

Yelena chased a giggling you around the room for several minutes before you started to slow down. Giving her the perfect opportunity to tackle you onto the same carpet she forced you to vacate earlier.

"Say sike right now or I will do it," Yelena threatened, her hands par curled beside your sides, you gulped knowing exactly how ruthless of a tickler she was.

"Hey siri," you squeaked, "play Lena's wedding song."

Yelena's eyes widened as she recognized the familiar tune of her favorite song, American Pie, but it was not the exact same. Instead it was void of the usual lyrics, slowed down on a piano alone and pitched upwards.

It brought tears to the blonde's eyes and she dropped to the floor beside you with a warm smile. "I hate you."

"I hate you too," you yawned, lips smacking almost dramatically as the cotton mouth hit you full force.

In contrast to the both of your baseless words you didn't let go of the blonde, you actually only held on tighter and she cuddled up to you as well, as sleep consumed the both of your drugged up minds entirely.

—

On a bed, only a city over sat your fiancé with a hand on her stomach as she came down from her laughter. Wanda was on the bed beside hers in a similar state.

"Do you think she'll call our baby ugly?"

Natasha smirked. "Oh, most definitely..."

"Shut up," the witch groaned then averted her gaze back to the screen where the tomfoolery took place.

"Do you think they'll be mad when they find out?"

Natasha blinked away her tears of amusement and shrugged, this was truly their favorite past time. Every month, without fail, the women announce an overnight mission knowing you and Yelena would use that time to unwind together with your favorite substances.

Most of the time you two smoked weed, but on the rare occasion, her birthday, Yelena could convince you to down a bottle or two of pure vodka. Those times were usually under semi-supervision though. The one time Natasha or Wanda didn't they found the both of you passed out on the rooftop in clothes bigger than you.

No explanations were given, and quite frankly they preferred not knowing. Fortunately weed slowed the two of you down more than anything, so for a few hours they'd get endless laughs before you succumbed to the glorious sleep that always follows a dank sesh.

"Honestly, I think they know us enough to expect this. Y/N's even hinted to me that she knows, but this is harmless and helpful since they respect us too much to engage in their nefarious activities when we are there."

Wanda smiled, feeling more confident as she settled back into the plush pillow that lined the hotel bed. It was foreign to her to experience such comfort when Yelena insisted on hogging the pillows so that the witch had no other choice but to use her chest as a cushion.

Normal partners just ask to cuddle, but Yelena says, "I'm pretty sure I have scoliosis, I need them," and yanks the brunette into her embrace without fail.

With the two of you in your weed induced slumber the witch found herself near the same outcome. Then as if annoying others ran in the family, Natasha spoke tension into the peaceful air, "But since you lost our bet, and will be playing these clips at your wedding reception next month Lena will most definitely make you sleep on the hotel couch on your honeymoon."

"I hate you," Wanda groaned and threw her pillow at the smirking redhead who caught it with ease. "And yet you're signing on for a life of being my sister in law."

Natasha winked then laid the witches pillow beneath her head, "thanks for the extra cushion, I needed it."

Wanda fell back on her mattress with a sigh, "Cyka." Then a soft smile followed as she felt warmth in her chest at the reminder that she had a family, again.

Natasha flipped her off, but as she laid on her side with her phone propped on the stolen pillow she smiled just the same. Yelena was cuddled into your side and you unconsciously held her with such care that it made the redhead thankful as she reminisced your relationship.

This was all she ever wanted, her little found family.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #gxg #natasha x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fluff

426 notes · View notes