#she loses the leather jacket when she's not going for a ride

[aquaticmercy]

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely. 

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training. 

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while. 

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track. 

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life. 

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise. 

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier. 

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet. 

Today he was going to ask you out. 

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased. 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike. 

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning. 

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned. 

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you. 

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary. 

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted. 

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head. 

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling. 

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now. 

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back. 

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first. 

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?” 

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools. 

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose. 

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work. 

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element. 

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter. 

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly. 

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together. 

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said. 

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike. 

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather. 

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier—  it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment. 

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted  as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair. 

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. 

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached. 

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved. 

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap. 

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win. 

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

[ryllen]

Closer look of Sabrina  \\  master post

[bangtanintotheroom]

Undershirt, Underskirt (M)

• Pairing: Bang Chan x (F)Reader

• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 1.3k

• Summary: Your boyfriend’s Lollapalooza attire leaves you wanting for him more than usual.

• Warnings/themes: Chan’s Lollapalooza fit 🫠, pining, ogling, Y/N being horny on main, making out, riding, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (she’s on BC), praise

• Notes: *sighs* Look. I’m not gonna act like there was some deep reason behind writing this. I saw Chan in a tank and went absolutely feral. Like, DISGUSTINGLY FERAL. So I had to get it out of my system somehow 🥲 Funny enough, something like this happened last year with Hobi at Lollapalooza…makes me curious about next year lmao

• Notes (2): Thanks to my demonic tender @minttangerines​ for the beta and encouraging me to go ahead and get my thoughts out on paper! 💕

• Taglist: @jimilter​ @joontied​ @minisugakoobies​ @minttangerines​ @sugalaritae​ @crisle19​ @codeinebelle​ @kookprada​ @saweetspoiled​ @effielumiere​ @m1sss1mp​ @spookyminyunki​

Time was never something that you paid much attention to. You went with the flow with no problem. But right now?

Every second that passed by without your boyfriend walking through that room door was time that was wasted not sitting on his dick.

Your grip on the skirt of your dress tightened when you watched the minutes on the alarm clock change yet again. A low grumble escaped your pursed lips as you stewed in this lonely hotel room.

This was unlike you.

You weren’t some 24/7/365 horny monster who would wither away without a helping of Chan. But you had been witness to an unspeakable sight on the Lollapalooza stage.

The sight of Chan removing his jacket to reveal a white tank underneath paired with a multitude of gold chains.

The light stick you had been holding almost fell with how off-guard you were taken. All the times you had seen him in various states of undress and this was what broke you?

Maybe it was the simplicity of the fit that got to you.

Maybe it was the display of his muscled arms and lightly-tanned skin that affected you.

Maybe it was the fact that you kept seeing his top ride up, showing off the flatness of his lower stomach that sat above those damn leather shorts.

Leather shorts that concealed what you were dying to have in your mouth, hands or pussy right now.

Your thighs rubbed together at the strong wave of pleasure that washed over from the thought.

Okay, maybe it was all on you just being a horny mess.

The clicking of the doorknob had you darting up into a full sitting position now, watching it turn with widened eyes. The door opened to reveal the object of your salacious desires, his tired face lighting up at the sight of you.

“Hey baby! Sorry I’m so—”

Your body went on autopilot and bounded down the bed and over to Chan, pouncing on him with your arms wrapped tight around his neck. A sound of exertion left as the weight of you transferred onto him, the force pushing his back into the door. Before he could ask what had gotten into you, you planted your lips on his, the taste of him and his vanilla lip balm only exacerbating your horniness.

It took a few seconds, but he was quick to return your kiss, dropping the bag he held in favor of resting his palms on your ass. But the gentleness of his hold swept away as soon as your tongue came out to part his mouth, long fingers digging into the clothed flesh with intensity.

Damn.

You thought having him in the flesh would ease your pain, but his hard body against your softer one and the scent of his cologne and sweat invading your nostrils only made it worse. There was only one way to fix it.

Pulling away when you were losing breath, you panted, “Please fuck me.”

Chan’s lidded dark eyes opened wide at your plea, still trying to wrap his head around what the fuck was going on.

“Y-Y/N? You good?”

“No, I’m not good. I’ve been wet as an ocean since you were on stage and I need you to help me out.”

Your whining made a low groan leave him, head tipping back against the wood.

“For real?”

Rather than speak, you took one of his hands and slipped it under the hem of your dress. Just the light touch of his fingers brushing against your clothed center had you biting back a whimper, but it was nothing compared to the sharp swear Chan let out.

“The fuck, baby, you’re soaked—”

He ripped that concealed sound out of you by giving your near-throbbing clit a light pinch, making your knees wobble for a moment.

“Can you help me? U-Unless you’re tired…”

Chan straightened the both of you up with his free hand, the look in his eyes speaking volumes.

“Sleep is overrated. Come on.”

Your boyfriend may have denounced slumber earlier, but halfway through the fun, his movements grew a bit slower. Not wanting to exert him any further, you guided him to recline against the headboard and let you take over. The grateful smile he gave was more than enough to make your night.

Well, that and being able to finally sit on his dick like you so desperately wanted.

“Is this really all because of my outfit?”

A huff left you at his inquiry, one hand sliding down from his damp shoulder to give the tank top he still adorned a light tug.

“Yes, babe. Why do you sound so shocked?”

Chan chuckled, biting back a groan as you gave a clench. “Nah, I just don’t get to see you like this often. I like it.”

Now you giggled, leaning forward to press your nose against his.

“Do you?”

A sudden thrust from him interrupted your riding.

“Yeah.”

The moan you let out ended up bringing another stroke from him, forcing your hand to go back to holding him for support. His own roamed over your body, rubbing and gripping in multiple areas that made your blood run hot.

“This plus what you’ve got on? You’re lucky I didn’t run off the stage.”

You laughed at his scenario, knowing damn well he wouldn’t risk such a maneuver.

While you had requested Chan to keep his upper torso clothed (no point in keeping on the ripped shorts), he came in with one of his own, asking if he could just push your dress out of the way. You had no qualms against that, allowing him to tug the hem to gather around your waist while he slid your panties down and off your legs. So what if you were sweating a little more than usual because of the fabric?

That’s what showers were for.

One was definitely going to be necessary after the day the two of you had and the current act that was making everything between your moving bodies sticky and slippery.

After some time, every action on both of your ends led to your riding getting faster and off-beat and his occasional thrusts to become more frequent. It didn’t help when Chan buried his face into your neck, thick voice rumbling against your wet skin, “Gonna make me come if you keep this up, babygirl—”

Surely he could feel the tremble that rocked your entire body.

“Good.”

You gave him little time to prepare after your reply, doing a certain move with your hips that always pushed him to the edge quickly. This time was no exception, Chan’s noises of bliss increasing in pitch until a guttural groan silenced them, feeling him grab your hips to bury himself as he twitched and filled you up with his come. You were able to go against his grip a bit to roll your hips enough to give your clit some stimulation, allowing you to achieve your own orgasm as well.

You could feel Chan laying nips and kisses all over your neck as you shook, followed close with endless praise that made your pussy give clenches that forced his speech to pause. A sense of pride washed over you at how it pulled a few more spurts from him, adding to the heat that coated your walls.

As soon as you slumped onto him, he shifted your bodies so he was laid flat with you directly on top, toned arms holding you tight.

“All better now?”

A hum of content came from you as you snuggled into his chest, your overheated cheek enjoying the cool metal of his chains.

“Much better.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[sheerfreesia007]

Nitro Boost

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word count: 1,672

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You’re excited to be invited to a street racing event with your girlfriends for the evening. You lose yourself in all the cars and customizations of the cars catching the attention of Han Jisung one of the fastest racers at the event. What happens when you both recognize each other when you greet each other? Will he take you for a ride in his racer?

The music was loud blaring from different car speakers as you and your girlfriends walked up to the parking lot that was hosting all the street racers and their decked out vehicles. You smiled giddily as you sidled up to your girlfriend’s side with excitement causing her to laugh happily at your antics before flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

“Someone’s excited.” she teased you and you grinned while nodding your head quickly at her words.

“I can’t help it! It’s so different from what I’m used to. All the lights, the fancy rims, the decals on the cars! I mean, look at that one! There’s a whole mural on the side of his car!” you cried out with surprise as the two of you passed a car with a very detailed mural of a fire breathing dragon on the side. There were cars that had customized hoods that were see through so that you could see what the engines looked like. There were cars with different shaped spoilers on the back of their trunks. There were even cars that had lights underneath them and in the rims of their tires!

This scene was the complete opposite of what you were used to. Your mother, a prominent figure in the community, was all about appearance and made sure not only to uphold a pristine image but you also had to uphold that image as well. While she was a little bit controlling and overprotective of you she meant well and only wanted the best for you. And normally you would agree with most of what she wanted for you but there was just something about the loud rumbling sound of the engines of street cars that drew you in and captured your attention.

Just then there was a loud growl of an engine from behind you causing both you and your girlfriend to jump out of the way of the car driving into the parking lot. She burst out in laughter as your head continued to follow the brightly colored vehicle as it slowly drove through the very packed parking lot. Your eyes were so wide as you tried to take in everything around you and she slipped her arm around yours just so that she would be able to keep track of you and keep you at her side so she didn’t lose you.

*-*-*-*

Jisung leaned back against the hood of his vehicle while crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes darted around the packed parking lot. Felix was standing next to his vehicle that was parked next to him, eyeing one of the ladies who normally filled in as the flag girls for their races. Rolling his eyes Jisung continued to look around the parking lot spotting his friend who was DJ tonight set up in the corner of the parking lot playing his music and remixes as a large crowd danced along to the music. He wondered if he should go dance with some of the women that were over there to see if he could take one of them home for the night.

But just as he was seriously considering that option the sound of a bright loud excited laughter caught his attention and he turned his head quickly to the other side. His eyes immediately landed on a duo of women dressed in outfits that did not fit this type of event. One was dressed in a flowy black dress that fell to her knees effortlessly while hugging her torso like a second skin with her hair loose around her shoulders. But the other one was dressed in a pair of skintight dark washed jeans with a neon pink tank top under a black leather jacket with her hair tied up out of her face in a high ponytail.

The two of them stood out in the crowd and Jisung couldn’t take his eyes off the one wearing the tight jeans as they walked around the parking lot. From where he was leaning against his car it looked as if the one in jeans was dragging her friend around from car to car excitedly asking the drivers about their vehicles. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her eagerly shoot off questions to a driver who looked less than pleased to be in her presence as she talked his ear off while admiring his car.

Sliding off his hood he began to walk over to them as he noticed the driver scowl darkly at the excited woman as she continued to ask him questions while walking around his car to look at all of it. Just as Jisung got to the car he stood next to the woman in the black dress and she turned her head to look at him curiously before turning back to her friend with a soft bemused smile.

”Is she always this excited about cars?” He asked her with a soft grin gracing his face.

”No, but these types of cars have always interested her.” Her friend advised and Jisung nodded his head knowingly. “She says it's the sound of the engine but I think it’s because it's so different from what her mother would want her to be interested in.” She said with a soft sigh and Jisung looked over at her with a furrow to his eyebrows. He then notices the expensive looking dangle earrings in her ears and the designer bag at her hip. He wonders silently who the two of them were before he turns back to see the other woman already looking at the next car parked next to them when suddenly there’s a loud rumble and her head whips around to spot the car that made the noise.

He watches as her eyes widen with delight as she spots the car that was just rumbling and she’s already moving swiftly around the car to get a better look at the rumbling car. Jisung smiles softly as she steps closer to him and he can see her wide eyes sparkling with brand new excitement as they’re fixed on the slowly driving car.

”Are they going to race?” She asked curiously as she comes to stand between Jisung and her friend. Jisung looks over to the car and notices it’s one of the new upstart drivers who had just entered the scene.

”Not yet. He’s trying to catch someone’s attention to race him.” Jisung explained and he notices her turning her head to stare at him silently.

”Are you a driver?” She asked and Jisung smirked softly as he turned to face her while holding his hand out for her. She beamed at him before placing her hand in his moving to shake his hand but he caught her by surprise as he tugged her closer to him and brought her hand up to his lips before pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.

”Han Jisung, I’m one of the fastest racers here tonight.” He said smugly and watched delightedly as her eyes widened at his action and then his words.

”Oh I’ve read about you!” She gasped softly before furrowing her eyebrows and tilting her head to the side slightly. “But it wasn’t about street racing. Aren’t you the youngest music producer in the music industry right now?” She asked curiously and Jisung felt his chest puff up with pride at her recognition of him.

”And who are you gorgeous?” He asked curiously as he kept a hold of her hand to keep her close to him. He watched as her cheeks flushed prettily and she ducked her head slightly before looking back up to him. She was beautiful and Jisung couldn’t help but lean in towards her wanting to suck up all of her presence for himself.

”Sorry, my apologies. I’m a little excited about all of this stuff.” She said kindly as she waved her other hand around herself at the cars around her. “I’m Georgia Vern’s daughter. She’s -“ she began to introduce herself and Jisung’s eyes widened at the knowledge of who she was before his smirk deepened teasingly.

”Does your mother know that you’re here?” He asked knowingly and watched as her cheeks flushed brightly and her eyes widened almost comically. “Oh ho, she doesn’t does she?” He asked delightedly and she tried to pull her hand from his but he gripped her tighter in his grip. “Don’t worry I won’t tell her gorgeous.” He husked out to her and her eyes stayed comically widened as her head tilted up to his.

”What do you want in return?” She asked softly and he frowned softly at her question. He wonders if there had been others who had blackmailed her or used information against her before.

”Let me be your guide around the event.” He said confidently and she frowned softly at him, most likely not believing that’s all he wanted. “And maybe a chance to take you out to dinner one night.” He confessed and her eyes widened slightly at his words causing him to smirk softly at her.

”You won’t get tired of all my questions? I have a lot of questions.” She asked honestly and her friend burst out in laughter behind her reminding Jisung that she was there as well. Jisung smiled brightly down at her before he tucked her hand into his elbow and tugged her even closer to his side.

”I promise not to get tired of all your questions. And I promise to try and answer them all. Or I’ll find out the answer for you somehow.” He promised softly and she beamed up at him stunning him with her bright happy smile. He hadn’t thought he would meet her here tonight but as she eagerly dragged him along with her friend asking questions about everything he couldn’t help but be happy he had met her here tonight. He silently hoped that he’d one day be able to take for a ride in his car but he would save that suggestion for another time.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

[dontsh0vethesun]

the good samaritan

kinktober 2023 masterlist

natasha romanoff x hitchhiker!reader

18+: drugging, kidnap, restraints, gag, smut; noncon kissing, dubcon fingering, brief daddy kink, corruption

wc: 1.8k

Making your way home in the dark had never been something you wanted to do, especially not with a phone drained of its battery and an evening chill littering your skin with goosebumps. The breeze and the sporadic rumblings from behind the greying clouds let you know the best was yet to come. Freezing droplets dampening your face as soon as they fell.

You’d never have even considered trying to flag down a driver but you’d not been stranded in a building storm before. And the knowledge of the safety of the area didn’t quell the fear in your mind when your outstretched arm lifted a thumb over the edge of the pavement. You pulled your jacket around yourself as much as you could as your shoes gathered water, scuffing against the concrete of loose slabs, idly kicking pebbled debris into the road with headlights reflecting in the coating of rain.

Some had the cheek to begin to slow down, maybe offering a pitied shrug before their tires spat water from the tarmac and they sped away. The bobbing of your legs didn’t do much to warm you up, bouncing on the balls of your feet for any semblance of movement as you watched each exhale form before you in puffs of white.

It was a Corvette that finally came to a stop beside you, sleek and black metal shining with raindrops and a window rolling down to show the smiling face of a helpful stranger.

“Hi, honey. Need a ride?” Her voice was husky and smooth with fiery hair framing her face and emerald eyes glowing beneath the lamplight.

“Please. If it’s not too much to ask.”

“Of course not,” she grinned, charming and kind. “Here, get in, you’ll catch a chill.”

She reached across to push the door open for you and the warmth was much needed to combat your freezing state. The scents of leather seats and spiced perfume swam around you and her smile looked even prettier up close.

“Thank you so much - my phone battery died and there’s still a long walk back to my apartment so you’re really doing me a favour.”

“Anything to help a damsel in distress,” she smirked and your cheeks heated embarrassingly. “I’m Natasha.”

“Y/N.” Her hand was strong when she shook yours with the small creak of her leather jacket as she reached over to you.

“Are you in a rush to get back to a boyfriend or anything?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head as she pulled away from the curb. “Just an empty house.” And that was your first mistake.

“Then how does hot chocolate sound? I know a diner not too far from here and it’ll do good to warm you up.”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be nice actually.”

Perhaps, in retrospect, leaving the diner’s table to go to the bathroom wasn’t a wise idea. But, the kind eyes and conversation of the friendly woman across from you made you comfortable. There was no creeping thought in your mind that you’d return to finish your drink as she watched intensely, that once you were in her car again the music on the radio would fade in and out of your mind, growing cloudy and as blurred as the headlights of the other cars driving towards you.

Accepting a ride from a beautiful woman wasn’t something you’d apprehended with a sense of nervousness, it had come naturally to you to regard her kindness gratefully without fear you’d lose all semblance of judgment and clarity when she missed the turning that made its way to your street. Any utterings of her mistake were hardly audible, just slurred mumbles falling from numb lips as your heavy head leaned against the window.

A friendly offer can only be so friendly you suppose, things in this world seldom come without a price to pay - a darkened shadow overhead. Gracefully taking her offer caused your eyes to blink open a while later, confused and unaware of the time to follow.

Her bedroom’s ceiling light was harsh against your bleary sight and tears soon fell at the sinking in of the reality of the situation you’d been harshly dragged into. It didn’t take a completely focused head to notice the tightness of rope bound around your wrists, nor the coolness of the air against your skin - the breeze from the slightly cracked window that would not be felt if you hadn’t awoken in your underwear.

The wooden frame of her bed was uncomfortable against your back and the redhead merely smiled at the way you attempted to fight for freedom.

It took a moment to comprehend it all, to take in the sight of the foreign room you’d been brought to, the feeling of material clenched between your teeth and the eyes that regarded your half-naked body. The pleading look you directed towards Natasha through your eyes that spilled tears along your cheeks made her huff a humourless laugh.

“Don’t cry, honey,” she cooed, reaching a hand to cup your cheek with a softness you didn’t expect. She wiped the droplet from your skin as though she truly cared and in the haze that was your befogged mind you couldn’t help but slightly succumb to her whims.

Mumbles of your pleading for reprieve - questions of why - were muffled and obscured with the makeshift gag she’d forced past your slack jaw during unconsciousness. Why was she doing this? What was she planning next? All posed without answer. You couldn’t help but take in the sight before you, despite the vulnerably exposed pose she had you in, the contours of her biceps with each move she made and the vest top that pulled tightly over her chest.

“Like what you see?” she mocked, watching where your eyes drank her in. Perhaps you won’t be so hard to break after all.

Your body shook with fear and Natasha adored the sight. She loved how helpless you looked, glistening eyes begging, shrinking into yourself with small flinches at her every move.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” she breathed. You let her pull the fabric past your lips, swiping your tongue over the chapping skin. Somehow, you believed her. “You’ve just gotta behave, okay? No screaming. Just sit and look pretty - can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes,” you nodded, failing with the attempt you made to wipe your face from tears. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You didn’t want to get on her bad side. You didn’t want to imagine the kinds of things that she might do; it wasn’t too difficult to appease her considering the kindness she’d already shown you. You wondered what someone might think if they caught a glimpse at the inner workings of your mind - the fact that you weren’t as terrified as you probably should be. That the attractiveness of the redhead deterred such emotion.

“Good girl,” she smiled, bringing a freshly cracked open bottle of water to your lips to help you drink. It was a cool relief against the dry and scratchy throat that had developed.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“No. No questions,” she returned quickly, looking at you with a harshness she’d been keeping at bay.

“You can’t just do this,” you muttered. “You drugged me - brought me here against my will, you-“

Anything else you were about to say was soon halted with her lips on yours. She was strong and her kiss didn’t differ. The weak push you gave her did nothing to get her away from you and the rough hold she had on either side of your face didn’t let up, whatever she wants she takes and you were no different.

It was pure luck that the woman had come across such a pretty thing just begging to be captured. A crime of opportunity. The sweetness in your eyes and the comfortable conversation only let her know she’d made the right choice. She watched you unknowingly swallow down the hot chocolate she’d laced and observed musingly at the drowsiness that set in, taking in the uselessness of your slumped limbs in her passenger seat.

And now she revelled in your unmoving lips against hers, the way you stiffened up before finally giving in. Your lips moved with hers reluctantly, tentatively at first until you couldn’t help but be lured into her, to let her push her tongue against yours dominantly and take the sweet, forbidden fruit she craved.

With the way she took control of your mind you stopped shrinking away, even trying to pull her closer with a fumbling hold on her shirt. She smiled against you and let you pull her into you, taking her place with her knees either side of you with her teeth biting into your bottom lip when she pulled away for breath.

“See? I’m not so bad, am I, sweet girl?” She murmured against your throat, licking her tongue across the thin skin, scraping her teeth and digging them in to leave her mark behind.

You shook your head in response, letting her use you while you sighed out in pleasure despite every sensible part of you willing yourself to realise this was wrong. But if it was so terrible, why did it feel so good? Why did the touch of a stranger ignite a fire within you that only lovers had? How could you let her inch her hands downwards if this was so wrong?

Her fingers stroked down your waist as though she was familiar with the terrain, nails digging into the skin until they reached your underwear.

“I’m gonna break you down,” she rasped against your collarbone. “Bit by bit.”

She pushed the damp material that covered your cunt aside to swipe her fingertips through the slickness of your slit. “Until all you know is me - all you can remember is me.”

She toyed with your clit that ached with a filthy desire to be paid attention to, focusing solely on the bud while you moaned out at the feeling. She took you by force and consumed you entirely and it made your head swim - your stomach clench in a begging need for release.

Each action of her digits pulled you into a dangerous ocean of pleasure, bringing you headfirst into a new reality you don’t want to escape anymore.

“All you need to know is how good it feels when daddy fucks you,” Natasha breathed against the shell of your ear, completely enamoured with the sounds she pulled from you and the rutting of your hips. “You’re my little toy now, sweetheart. All for daddy.”

The roughness of her voice and the heat of her breath on your neck was too much to handle; the pace she’d kept up on your swollen clit brought you over the edge into an orgasm that had you seeing stars and you rewarded her with pathetic murmurings of her name.

Before you’d even had a chance to catch your breath it was stolen again with her lips on yours. She was eager and ravenous and you were going to let her take all she wanted, giving yourself up to the older woman who wanted to devour you whole.

When you pulled apart once more you locked eyes with hers, the darkness that had taken over them was unmistakable and it let you know that she wasn’t quite done with you for tonight.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

First Date

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none at all fr fr except idk first date jitters???

Genre: fluff central

Summary: Your first real date with your former fake boyfriend; "I'm just scared of what you think // You make me nervous so I really can't eat" ~ First Date by Blink 182

A/N: This is technically part 2 to Nervous but order is arbitrary fr

***

The following Friday Bucky is at your apartment just before 7 o'clock trying to convince himself to knock on your door. He knows he has to because you otherwise won't come out and that would be awful because even if every muscle in his body is tensing up at the thought of this actually happening he does really want to take you out. The only problem is that standing in your hallway it feels like a dream he had long given up on is coming to fruition and he's starting to wonder if maybe he's not ready for this. It's too late for that now though, he's meant to pick you up in 2 minutes and he'd rather lose his other arm than upset you by canceling last minute no matter how anxious he is.

"If she didn't want this. She wouldn't have agreed." Bucky tells himself, steeling his nerves. He raises his fist and raps on the door far more confidently than he's feeling at 6:59:37. He knows because he checked his watch. Barely a minute goes by before you swing open the door with a soft smile.

"You're right on time. Hi Bucky." You say. Bucky freezes up as he takes you in. You're wearing a crop top and faux leather pants with a matching jacket. Bucky told you casual dress was fine so you wanted something cute but practical. Bucky can feel his brain short circuit as he looks at you. Just compliment her! 

"Punctuality- matters. We should get going." He says instead of anything charming. The sentences come out chopping and strained and he almost outwardly cringes at himself.

"Alright, well lead the way James." You say, pointedly ignoring the tense undertone in his words. You're not sure what that was about but you can't imagine drawing attention to it will help. Bucky nods and walks you down to his car where he opens your door and lets you in before he jogs over to the driver seat and slides in. It only takes another moment before he's pulling out of your parking lot and cruising down the streets.

The ride there is pretty quiet, which is fine. You're trying to guess where he's taking you anyway because he refuses to tell you. It's not until you see the big neon sign as he turns into a parking lot that you finally crack it though and you can't help but chuckle quietly as he parks the car. It's been such a long time since you've been to one of these.

"Bowling?" You smile at him.

"I've heard how boring you find regular dinner dates." Bucky shrugs. It's true you much prefer activity dates, but you're curious how he'd know that already. He gets out of the car and rushes over to your side to open the door for you. The two of you head inside and get set up with a lane and a pair of bowling shoes. You both are quick to grab bowling balls and start the game. You're always down for some friendly competition and honestly, it'll be nice to do something you haven't in a while.

A few rounds in though makes you painfully aware of how little Bucky has said since picking you up and it's starting to get to you. If you get excited over a strike or point out the score he'll offer a little smile and maybe a couple of words but he's not actually conversing with you. When you commend a particularly good round on his end he just nods a 'thanks'. Not to mention he's hardly looking at you which isn't a big deal exactly but in combination with the lack of talking it feels very awkward. Especially for a first date. Who bowls in silence?! About halfway through, you stand up before Bucky takes his roll.

"I'm going to get some food. Do you want anything?" You ask him.

"Oh! Let me get it. What do you want?" Bucky puts down his bowling ball and jogs over to his jacket draped over one of the chairs.

"A slice of pizza and some lemonade." You say.

"On it." He nods dropping the jacket and walking over to the food counter. You sigh to yourself as you plop back in your seat to wait for him. You can't understand why he's being so quiet but this date really can't continue this way. When Bucky returns with your food and drink he hands them to you quickly. You barely mutter thank you before he goes back to his jacket, presumably to put his wallet back in the pocket he fished it out from.

"You know Bucky, you've barely said anything to me all night. I've been on some pretty awkward first dates before but never ones where my date avoids looking at me." You stand and walk over to where Bucky is now lining up his roll.

"I'm not avoiding looking at you." Bucky says. 

"If this has been your idea of being present with a date you are more out of touch than I thought James." You muse. Bucky sighs and turns to you, finally looking at you properly. He's silent for a moment, just looking at you before he speaks again.

"You know when you talk to people you look at them so intently. It's like you could uncover their every secret in the time it takes them to finish whatever sentence they're saying."

"Is that why you wouldn't look at me?" You ask.

"I'm already terrified of saying the wrong thing. When I look at you it feels as though you can hear my every nervous thought. As if you'll-" Bucky's words seem to get stuck in his throat as his brows knit together.

"As if I'll what?" You prompt.

"Be able to see me the way I see myself." He mutters.

"You- don't want me to see you the way you see yourself?" You frown.

"It wouldn't end well if you did." He shakes his head.

"Well, why don't you let me decide how I see you? And in the meantime, you should just- be yourself. Trust me you're way worse off if you don't speak to me the entire night than whatever you're so scared of." You tell him. "Right now your worst crime is sucking at bowling."

"Hey! I'm doin pretty well."

"I mean I'm beating you pretty bad so-" you walk back over to your seat where you'd left your pizza.

"You're distracting." He mutters.

"I'm distracting?! You've been avoiding me in all ways but physical Bucky. How could I possibly be distracting?" You ask.

"How many times are you going to make me say how nervous you make me?"

"I dunno, how many times would it take for you to stop being so nervous?"

"More than is reasonable for you to say."

"You'd be surprised how far I'm willing to go actually." You tell him, taking a bite of your pizza. "I just want you to relax Bucky." You say before you drop your pizza plate back on the chair.

"Easier said than done." He muses.

"I'm sure. I mean up until a week ago I thought you hated me- so there's a learning curve for us both. But you can't expect me to not get to know you. We're on a date I mean-"

"I know." He mutters quietly, though you can't hear him as you keep rambling.

"Dates typically involve a lot of getting to know people. You're lucky we're not complete strangers-"

"I know." He tries again but you're still going.

"Otherwise I wouldn't even bother with this I would just never see you again but I like you and I want this to go somewhere but you have to try, and sometimes that's gonna mean stepping out of your comfort zone and if you can't do that-" Bucky grabs you by your shoulders and yanks you towards him until your bodies are flush, his head tilting down and connecting your lips. Your eyes widen for a moment before closing, surrendering to his kiss. It's strong, unyielding, so much like him and finally, for the first time since you got here you get a glimpse of the man you're familiar with. When he pulls away your eyes flutter open.

"I know, y/n. You're right. I'm sorry for being so awkward." Bucky says and you shake your head.

"You don't have to apologize. I just want tonight to go well." You say softly.

"So do I! So much so that I-"

"That you're too scared to talk to me?" You chuckle.

"It- sounds silly when you put it like that." He muses.

"It's okay. As frustrating as the silence is I think it's cute that you're so..."

"Insecure?" He scoffs.

"I was going to say shy." You roll your eyes with a laugh. "I don't think it's insecure to care about what you say to a date, but I do think you worry far too much. You're not under evaluation." You say.

"I'll- try to relax." He says.

"Great, now hurry up and roll your ball so I can wipe the floor with your cute ass." You smile.

"Oh-ho-ho don't get too confident there sweetness. Relaxing means I'm definitely going to beat you." Bucky says.

"I mean you can tryyyyy but I'd keep those expectations low if I were you. I'm currently doing way better than you."

"We're barely halfway through the game, you're counting your chickens too soon." He smiles sweetly.

"You're talking a lot for someone who still hasn't finished his turn." You shrug. Bucky shoots you an incredulous look that has you laughing as he walks over to the lane to roll for his turn. Now, if you can keep him this relaxed for the rest of the night then this date is going to be every bit as amazing as you could hope for. Even on the off chance he beats you at bowling.

***

[seethesin]

shane relationship hcs??

pairing: Shane McCutcheon x F!Reader

tags/warnings: meet cutes, dating cliches, explicit sexual content near the end (18+, mdni)

a/n: i can't deny you anything involving shane, anon! 😇 this is not proofread, just a complete stream of consciousness. enjoy!

The two of you met while grocery shopping. You were shopping for the week while Shane stopped in to grab a case of Dos Equis and a few things to host the get together she and Jenny had planned

You swiped the bag of chips Shane was about to grab, knocking knuckles into each other

Shane's not one to get flustered or thrown off center, but she was not expecting to meet you in such a mundane place

The first thing your brain comprehends is just how good she looks in her ripped jeans and dress shirt

She manages to get a sentence out first, maintaining her signature coolness: "You know, I got some company expecting me to come back with those cheddar jalapeño chips"

You hum as if genuinely considering giving them up before smiling brightly and placing them in your cart

"You snooze, you lose!" you call over your shoulder, leaving Shane stunned behind you. You miss the tiny smile that tugs at her lips as she searches for another snack

While you're walking down the checkout, you notice Shane waiting in one of the lanes Immediately, you station yourself behind her and take a moment to build your confidence

"Hey," You grab her attention and Shane turns around, her green eyes practically gleaming once she realizes it's you again

"I'll trade you the chips for a date"

You don't miss the surprised quirk of her brows or the way her lips grow into a pleased grin at your exclamation

"Deal"

And so, one date turns into three which turns into so many you lose count

You learn quickly that Shane can be a gentlewoman. She's always holding doors open for you, offering you her arm when you walk together, and draping her leather jacket over you when you're cold

Each action only seems to impress you more and you refuse to admit it out loud, but you're smitten with her

As the two of you learn more about each other, you notice just how much Shane takes an interest in your passions

She can actively listen to you talk about something you love for hours: whether it has to do with your career, your education, or even that TV show you spent the weekend binging

If something makes you happy, you can guarantee that at some point, Shane has made a mental note of it so she can touch on it later on

The love languages Shane shows to you are physical touch and acts of service

Shane can't keep her hands to herself

She always finds a way to touch you: whether it be a chaste hand on your back, a protective arm around your waist, or her mischievous mouth on the nape of your neck

Your bodies fit one another like gloves. That fact does not go past either of you; it was as if you were made for each other

Meanwhile, Shane is the first person you go to when you want some sort of help

Being wanted does something to Shane and to be wanted by you? It makes her go absolutely crazy

She's not a fixer per se, but will always provide the assistance she feels she can for you

Need a ride? She's got you covered. Need some advice? She'll say her peace but will ask you to take it with a grain of salt. Need a hand? Oh, well she'll be happy to provide that in more ways than one

Also, do I even have to say it? As soon as you two officially enter a relationship, Shane is your personal hairdresser

You let her try just about any hairstyle on you that she can think of; the feeling of her fingers against your scalp is enough to make you melt on the spot

Whatever she chooses for you that day is always flattering and you can't get enough of yourself in the mirror

Shane will bend forward, grinning in satisfaction as she tidies up your new hairdo

"Look at my pretty girl," she'll rasp, pressing kisses to your temple as she watches you blush eagerly

By the way, the sex is to die for

Shane truly aims to please and is always so hyperfocus on your pleasure every single time the two of you get between the sheets

Whether she's fucking you with her hands, mouth, or strap, she adores being able to watch you throughout it

She loves to overstimulate you, seeing just how far she can push you until you can't take it anymore

Her favorite way to fuck you is with you in her lap, her fingers buried in your pussy while you face her. Your hands are gripped on her shoulders as you bob mindlessly

Your greedy cunt swallows her digits easily as you pant and keen.

Shane can't stop herself from teasing you: "Such a good girl, fucking yourself on my fingers, huh?"

You dissolve into a whimpering, whining mess, and once she curls her fingers inside you, you cum so suddenly you don't have time to process it

Her thumb is stroking your clit and another orgasm ripples through your body

Your shuddering on Shane's fingers and she leans in closer, trailing hot kisses down your throat

"How many more can you give me tonight?"

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 4

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: At the dinner date with Bada, you discover an unpleasant truth.

Warning: Swearing, flirting, no angst (I know how the synopsis sounds but I can’t bring myself to write angst, at least not in this economy >_< let me know if y’all actually want something heart breaking and I’ll see if I can do some one shots for those of you who just want to see the world burn??¿)

AN: Thank you for reading >////<

Previous | Next

You’ve always been a safe rider when it comes to motorcycles, but this may be the safest you’ve ever drove in your whole life. Hands clenched, eyes straight ahead - you glided through the night streets of Seoul.

Bada throughly enjoyed the joy ride, sailing though the city with you like a raven. She was a little bashful at first, holding onto you from behind - but perhaps the adrenaline coursing through her help eased the anxiousness, as she soon settled into a comfort position to secure herself onto you like a backpack.

When you finally pulled into the destination, you finally relaxed your tense shoulder from all the concentration. It was then you realised just how tightly the dancer is clinging onto you - her thighs pressed against yours for warmth, her fingers laced together around your waist. You silently thanked Latrice for her service, before remembering why Bada was here in the first place.

When the dancer peeled herself off you, you missed the warm embrace as a gust of chilly wind brushed past you. Dismounting from the vehicle, you quickly unzipped your leather jacket and tossed it over her shoulder.

“It’s okay I don’t-” Bada was about to politely decline your offer, before the warmth engulfing her is so cozy she swallowed the rest of her sentence. Noticing the tank top you had underneath hugging your figure, she’s definitely not complaining about you losing your jacket at all.

“Sorry about this,” you gestured towards the bike, “didn’t plan for a date.” If only Latrice could’ve given you more than a couple hours to organise, you would have tried to get a more reasonable transportation; but still, she got you a dinner with the famous Bada Lee, so you couldn’t really get mad at her either.

“A date?” Bada chuckled, slowly getting used to your bluntness. It didn’t stop her cheeks from warming up though. “Okay then, what’s the occasion?”

You pulled out the keys to your recording studio, absolutely delighted. “I start work tomorrow!” You chirped excitedly, “they just finished setting it up this morning.”

“God! who gets this excited to work?” The blonde scoffed jokingly. Something about the way you get excited reminded her of a Doberman wagging it’s tail. She unconsciously reached over to ruffle your hair, immediately stopping herself when she realised what she’d done. “U-uh should we go in?”

You hummed and nodded at the suggestion, heart fluttering from the little touch.

Bada nodded approvingly at your choice of venue, “Oh this place is nice, you’ve been here before?”

You shook your head no, “Found it online. I took off running from my local guide, remember?”

Bada laughed and navigated you inside, “Now that you’ve stopped running, I can finally have the honour of showing you around. This place is a good find.” She handed you a menu and you slid the little sheet back to her.

“What does the local guide recommend?” You asked cheekily, noticing an opportunity to discover her preferences. The blonde smiled, thrilled to show you a few signature dishes.

While you waited for your food to arrive, Bada proceeded to list off a few more dining and event venues. You made a few mental notes to check these places out in the following weeks while admiring just how personable and adorable this famous dancer is.

Pulling out your phone, you snapped multiple photos of the dishes when they finally arrived, “Latrice missed out. Food looks amazing.” If Bada ever considers an alternative career path, she should really become a food blogger.

“Just the food?” Bada teased back.

You turned the camera towards her and snapped a few pictures as well. Of course she looked amazing as always, beaming a squint eyed smile at your camera.

Bada is right - the food is delicious. “I think I need to take you out for dinner more often,” you wondered out loud, nodding at your own ingenuity. The dancer raised you a thumbs up, delighted by your willingness to try out almost everything. Bada felt extremely accomplished as a guide for the night.

“Thank you for dinner,” the blonde looked up at you, and you noticed a tiny bit of sauce on the corner of her mouth. You hummed and gestured her forward.

Bada instinctively reacted to your two finger ‘come here’ gesture and leaned forward; her eyes widen when you gently tipped her chin upwards, wiping away the mark with a serviette. The blonde had to took a few sips of her cold drinks to regulate her breathing again after that. Not used to being the flustered one, Bada is determined to up her game on this date. “Careful there, or I’m gonna start thinking that you’re flirting with me.”

You tilted you head slightly in confusion, a slight pout taking shape on your lips. “I am flirting with you, for a while actually.”

Y/N: 1, Bada: 0. The blonde sighed and hung her head in defeat.

You smiled at the sulky choreographer, patting the top of head back. “Thank you for coming out tonight, lovely.”

Bada raised her head gloomily, sighing dramatically. “We have Latrice to thank,” she pondered for a moment as you hummed and nodded. “And probably Redlic.”

Your gaze hardened as you heard the last word. “What did you say?”

The tall dancer was confused at your sudden change in vibes, as there’s now something dangerous about the tone you’re taking, reminding her of the first night she met you. “Redlic, why?”

“What did that bitch do this time?” You tried to maintain your composure and keep your tone neutral, but no amount of self control can hide the poison dripping from your words.

Still confused by your change in demeanour, and frankly, offended by the word choice you’ve used on her colleague, Bada raised an eyebrow at you bemusedly. “What exactly is your problem with her?”

Knowing that the dancer in front of you is just collateral damage to your despise for the Mannequeen member, you took a deep breath and composed yourself. “She made Latrice cry, didn’t she?”

Bada’s expression immediately soften upon understanding your animosity against Redlic. “Ah that,” she sighed, running her hand over her hat, “yeah you right about that, she was a real bitch for that.”

You hummed and nodded, patiently waiting for Bada to continue dragging her name through the filth.

“Wait-” Bada suddenly perked up with realisation, looking at you with hesitation. “You… didn’t know?”

Your brows furrowed as it became your turn to get utterly confused. “What do I not know?”

Bada’s hand clasped over her mouth as she thought - fuck, “Latrice hasn’t… told you they’re dating, has she?” Bada trailed off, knowing that you probably should’ve heard this from Latrice yourself, but at the same time figured that it’s probably better for her to rip the Band-Aid off sooner rather than later. The silence was deafening as she mouthed a ‘sorry’ at you.

You shook your head at the blonde, understanding the predicament you’ve unintentionally placed her in. “It’s not you,” you sighed, rubbing your temple in frustration. “Latrice have a track record for going after assholes.”

“Is that where you learned how to beat up a-holes so efficiently?” Bada smirked.

You nodded in defeat, sighing once again. “Do you know any good remote places? Preferably one with little to no people and very soft soil. I may have to hide evidences of a crime after tonight.”

“Your local guide does not support criminal activities, unfortunately. Can I try to convince you to rethink your stance on Redlic?” Bada pressed timidly.

You rolled you eyes at her jokingly, “Thread lightly.”

“She fucked up, I’ll admit. We all gave her hell for it after filming actually, Harimu almost walked her like a dog. But-” she paused for a moment, tentatively sizing you up to make sure she hasn’t broken through that thin, thin ice into freezing water. You remained unreadable as a glacier. “But that’s just how she is, constantly blabbering first before considering her words, she has no ill intention.”

“That’s the best you could do? She’s not a cunt, just a twat?” You huffed and rolled your eyes, plopping your head onto the table. No wonder Latrice avoided talking about her date all day.

Bada shrugged in resignation, “How about ‘I don’t like prison food so you can’t commit crimes against Redlic?’”

You nodded, that’s a common ground you can agree on. “Yet. Second offence and I’m taking her for a swim with cinder blocks.”

The blonde chuckled at your fierce protectiveness, your guardian angel energy matching that to a hen shielding its chicks’. She’s heard people throwing around that phrase before, but it was then she realised what people meant by ‘mother is mothering.’

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight

[lovemewednesdays]

monster trucks and a monster crush.

(Based off of this post from the lovely @ebongawk. If I had the spoons, I'd probably flesh this out a bit more, but for right now, it's just a bullet fic.)

The movie comes out in July.

Eddie and Chrissy aren’t dating yet, but they might as well be, seeing how they spend most of their time together.

Chrissy has been trying to figure out Eddie on a real date all summer with no luck, and then she sees an ad for Maximum Overdrive in the paper.

It was perfect – Chrissy doesn’t like horror that much, but she can stomach it for an hour and a half, especially if she got to look at Emilio Estevez in the process, and Eddie loves Stephen King, she’s seen the beaten-up paperbacks on his floor.

They’re on the couch in the trailer. Something’s playing on the TV. Chrissy’s not paying attention.

“Do you wanna go to the movies tomorrow?” she blurts out. "There's a new Emilio Estevez movie.” Eddie makes a face and Chrissy shoves him lightly. “It’s directed by Stephen King.”

“Oh, yeah. Heard something about that. It’s based on one of his short stories. Yeah, that’s cool, let’s do it.”

Chrissy smiles and snuggles back into his side. She feels like she’s floating.

It isn’t until Edde’s driving her back home that it hits her like a brick wall – what if Eddie doesn’t know it’s a date? They go to the movies all the time. He probably thinks it’s no big deal! It’s not! It’s the biggest deal!

She works herself up, her nerves getting the best of her, and when they pull up to her house, she jumps out and twirls around.

“BythewayImeanttomorrowtobeadate." His eyes widen as comprehension dawns and Chrissy has to leave. “Okay, bye!”

She sprints inside her house, leaving a shell-shocked Eddie behind.

(Chrissy doesn’t sleep well that night.)

(Neither does Eddie.)

The next day, Chrissy is ready to renege on the whole thing. They can just be friends. It was a stupid idea anyway, why would Eddie Munson ever date her?

The van pulls up, and as she makes her way over, Eddie pops out of the driver’s side and rushes over to open the passenger side door.

Chrissy stops. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt under his leather jacket and his jeans don’t have any holes in them. It looks like he even tried to comb his hair.

He’s holding flowers.

Eddie's smile is nervous. “Wayne says it’s always a good idea to bring your girl flowers on a date.”

Chrissy smiles and takes the flowers.

The ride to the theater was normal. They talk about Corroded Coffin’s next gig, about the kids at Chrissy's summer job, and if Wayne would actually go on that fishing trip he’s been talking about for months. 

Once he parks, Eddie jumps out of the car and opens the passenger door. “Milady.” Chrissy takes his hand, gets out of the car, and they head toward the theater.

They’re almost to the door when Chrissy stops. Eddie stops, too.

They’re still holding hands.

“If, um…I know that – I know I didn’t let you respond yesterday, so I totally get it if you, um, don’t want it to be a date.”

She tries to pull her hand away, but Eddie tightens his grip.

“I was gathering the courage to do it myself, you know,” he says with a wry smile. “You beat me to the punch.” He kisses the back of her hand. “C’mon. You gotta go drool over Estevez.” Chrissy laughs and lets him lead her towards the theater.

The movie is terrible. Schlocky. Corny. Chrissy’s almost embarrassed for suggesting it, but Eddie’s arm is around her and he’s laughing.

(He loses it after the baseball coach dies by demonic soda cans. The kid getting run over by a steamroller right after didn’t help. Chrissy elbows him and Eddie flashes her a grin. “Kid’s fine, Cunningham. The grass’s soft.”)

The credits roll and Eddie and Chrissy walk out into the lobby; Chrissy hides her face. “I’m sorry!”

Eddie’s face twists in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“The movie was so bad! I don’t want our first date to be at a bad movie.”

Eddie takes her hands in his. “I had the time of my life watching that movie with you.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yeah! Watching a batshit-crazy movie about possessed eighteen-wheelers with my girl? Best day ever.”

Chrissy laughs and lifts up on her toes to kiss him. When she pulls back, Eddie grins widely and pulls her back in.

They get chased out of the theater by a miserable college kid in a neon orange vest grumbling about teenage hormones.

(When they make it out to the parking lot, Eddie stops her before she gets in. He lets go of her hand and splays himself against the hood of the van. “Now, Sheila. I know I just said that Chrissy was my girl, but I love you, too, and if you ever get possessed by an alien comet, please, please don’t kill us.”

Chrissy laughs and gets in the passenger seat as Eddie yells dramatically to be careful.

Eddie makes the movie his entire personality for weeks – whenever he sees an eighteen-wheeler, he screams and pulls Chrissy behind him. Sheila breaks down at the entrance to Loch Nora one night and he does his best Wanda June impression: “You can’t do this! WE MADE YOU!”

He takes the younger boys to see it and they join in on the theatrics. Steve and Nancy are ready to pull their hair out, but Chrissy loves it.

When the movie comes out on VHS, Eddie buys it immediately. They watch it every year on their anniversary.)

All in all, not a bad first date.

[futurecorps3]

I saw your Hobie x latina going going to the club para perrear and I loved it😭🤞🏼😩

BUT

Imagine Hobie going to a cantina with a mexican reader and just drink and hear corridos tristes (el video del vato que dice "porque que te quiero" y le meten el micrófono a la boca😭💀) or rather going to a cantina goes to her house and her family is making carne asada and drinking beer and there's literally a band in the party (soy norteña perdoname😭) and he is like "this food is bussing bussing" because he is British and their food is just "no good💖". At first he is nervous like he doesn't know what to do and at the end he is somehow riding a horse or he is playing with the band, he just loves it, the vibe and the food

(Love how you write 😭💖)

Hobie Brown meeting latina!reader's family <3

Masterlist <3

Ay hermana, soy chilanga we don't have horses up in this bitch😭 I tried to make it more general like Bee meeting your tías and primos but def adding the whole carne asada deal. (For my non-mexican readers, we call people from the city "chilangos" and northern people "norteños" and while we're from the same country, our experiences can be very different!). Also, tysm my dear, hope u like<3

-First off

-Giggling and kicking my feet 🤭

-Bro was persistent in meeting your family, and while you weren't exactly reluctant, you did have to warn him

-"Why not!? I want to meet your uncle Luis or- or Saúl!" He exclaims, recalling the stories you've told about your family members. "I'm not saying no, mi amor. I-It's just-" "What?" He grins, knowing you don't really have a solid argument. He kisses your pout and walks over to your room to get ready as you sigh, defeated by your pretty once more.

-Of course you wanted Bee to meet your family! But we all know how it can get at those big family gathering.

-One thing was meeting your parents, (which went by spectacularly, by the way) but him hanging out with your older tíos and younger primos was a whole other deal

-They aren't bad people, you love them dearly. It was the soft (hard and relentless) teasing (borderline bullying) you were worried about.

-It was easy to understand their humor when you grew up with heavy jokes, but Hobie would be new to all this. Plus, he was the first official boyfriend you'd introduce to the family! They were protective and honestly not afraid to show it.

-"Buenas tardes, Hobie Brown. Mucho gusto" you say slowly as you're both on the way to your tío's house, he repeats after you with a horrible accent. "Roll your r's!" You giggle, looking at him intently while softly showing him how to pronounce.

-He's really trying for you bestie </3

-Yeah he went blank after your aunt opened the door and dismissed his polite handshake with a bone-crushing hug.

-"Ay mija! He's so tall, I can barely hug him right. Pásenle, pásenle, Luis is in the garden with the kids. Welcome Hobie!"

-Bee just smiles and it widens when a horde of kids comes running down the hall and bolt towards you, saying hello to their favorite aunt and the strange bato she brought along.

-"Tía Y/N/N who is this?" Luisa (the youngest) asks, eyeing Hobie up and down with the sass of an old lady, making him suppress a laugh "Es tu novio?" now questions one of the boys, looking up at him amazed. "Hello brats" he smirks, high-fiving each and every one of your nieces and nephews excitedly.

-"You didn't tell me you were a tía already..." "Some of them will be by the age of sixteen, so I'm no rare event."

-Hobie is hard to lose on a crowd; all spikes, leather, chunky boots, and piercings

-Your nephews are thrilled.

-Asking all around about what his pins mean, if he finds it hard to walk with those boots, if he's not too hot with his jacket... you know, the type of questions kids ask.

-You laugh at him, trying to answer one question at a time patiently, and walk over to the table outside where your tíos, tías, primos, primas, cuñadas and some sobrinos were.

-"Y el novio mija?" Asks one of your tíos, already in a deffensive tone "He's inside con los niños, tío. Ahorita viene" you smile and promptly, Hobie walks through the door after the kids.

-The smokey scent of the carne asada filled his nostrils as soon as he walked outside, widening his eyes at how good it smelled. You walk over to him, grabbing his arm and smiling widely at your family

-"Les presento a Hobie, mi novio" you beam and your tíos can tell he truly makes you happy. "Yo no te di permiso, Y/N" one of them jokes, making everyone laugh and Bee follows after you translate for him.

-And he didn't like it but he really cared about their opinions

-He didn't give a single fuck of what other people had to say, but this was your family!!! He knew he was close and for the first time, strived for perfection

-The next few minutes were him trying really hard to memorize all the names, having a hard time pronouncing your aunt Rocio and Rosa's names.

-Everyone laughed at his attempts

-You sit between everyone at the large table, one of your tíos approaching you as you're too busy catching up with one of your cousins. Bee squeezes your hand to catch your attention, but you don't turn back to look at him, instead just squeeze back.

-He nervously places his hand out, and contrary to before, your uncle welcomes it. "Buenas tardes, Hobie" (oubi😭con acento mexa) "Buenas tardes, señor". God, did he rehearse that on the way...

-Your uncle seemed to appreciate him at least trying to talk to him in your mother tongue. He gave him kind of a smile and asked "Wanna help me with the asador over there?"

-Oh this was a test

-"Sure thing" he nods confidently even though he's shitting himself at the moment

-When he saw the carne asada let me tell you

-His mouth watered, heart eyes all over and he swore he was about to do that floating thing he's seen spider pig do

-Your tío taught him how to turn the steaks at the right time, after some aceite jumped and burnt him a bit :( your uncle could tell he was trying hard so he took it easy on him

-Personally? You fell in love all over again when he contained his tears the best he could at the smell and spice of the chiles floating so close to his nose <3

-You slapped his ass playfully when serving the food and he just smirked as your uncle side eyed you HARD

-“Bloody hell this shit is fucking amazing babe!” He almost moans when he bites into the taco of asada you made for him

-Your family might or might not know english but they know how bad words sound lmao

-They couldn’t blame him tho, not after he proved to love asada as much as them with the eight tacos he ate ☹️💕

-Him playing with the babies of your family bro :(

-He's so good with kids too

-I'm talking playing with them, having full conversations no matter how silly they got, following their train of thought and even making sure they weren't up to some stupid shit

-Girl, if you don't rail him stupid after that-

-He got along with your older cousins too!!! After all, they shared a similar taste in music and films so there was plenty to talk about

-Your tías chismeando with you about how handsome he is

-Let’s wrap it up, I got carried away and this is too damn long 😭

-He’s talking to one of your tías when the banda arrived at around 9 p.m

-My man is so confused please help him

-His spidey sense went off before the whole fucking commotion started lmao

-When he realized it was a live group playing and singing traditional music he lost his shit

-Asked you all about it!!! “What is that piano thing!?”, “What is he singing about?”, “Can I learn how to play that?”<3

-Eventually (and with no alcohol needed since he refused to risk doing some stupid shit with your family) he ended up dancing with your tía, her patiently teaching him how to move

-He had a hard time with his big ass boots but somehow managed!!

-Hobie was so happy when you went home ☹️ almost asking when you could come back and if you could cook some carne asada the same way your uncle (his best friend, he called him) did

-“Yo te amo mi amor” He smiled big, kissing you softly before falling asleep “Thanks for letting me meet your family… meant a whole lot y’know?” “‘Course corazón, seeing you there with everyone filled my heart with a joy I have rarely experienced”

-And with that you fell asleep, Hobie dreamt of asada and banda<3

[sc0rpiflow3r]

The first time James and Sirius went out on Sirius's bike

A little (okay, not-so-little) snippet for the next chapter of Dissonance:

(---)

“Scared, Potter?” Sirius smirked, and James swallowed hard.

The truth was, yes, he was actually afraid. But he was also… excited.

They were on the road leading to the entrance of Godric’s Hollow. It was late afternoon, and the ache of missing Sirius felt like it was about to burst from his chest.

It had only been a week since Sirius moved into his loft in London, but to James, it felt like an eternity. With all the chaos of the move, Sirius still hadn’t had the chance to take James out for a ride on his bike.

Earlier, Lily had joked about their strange co-dependence – how whenever they weren’t physically together, they were chatting through the mirrors.

And she was right; it was true. But James didn’t care.

He couldn’t stay away from Sirius; it was like he couldn’t breathe without him.

Sirius was his best friend. Sirius was his soulmate, he was made for James.

From the moment they met in that Quidditch shop, James had been captivated by the Black boy.

Where everyone else saw Sirius Black, the Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, James saw Sirius – the boy who shone as brightly as the star he was named after.

People used to call them inseparable, and they were. There wasn’t a distance strong enough to keep James Potter and Sirius Black apart.

James wanted to trap Sirius into his embrace forever, to not let him go ever again.

“You wish, Pads,” James smirked, then diverted his eyes to avoid a faint flush threatening to rise on his cheeks.

“C’mon, then,” Sirius said, nodding his head in the direction of the bike.

James cleared his throat, ruffling his hair.

“Are you sure you know how to drive it?” he asked, settling in behind Sirius, hands resting on his waist, fingers twitching as if unsure whether to hold on tighter.

The air buzzed with excitement, but there was something more – something heavier that James didn’t dare to name.

Sirius snorted, turning his head to look at James, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course, Prongs. Marlene introduced me to one of her muggle friends, and he has a bike too, so he gave me some tips,” he explained. James pulled him closer, trying to keep his grip casual, though the jealousy was eating him from the inside.

It was ugly, coiling around his chest, tight and suffocating, but James couldn’t – wouldn’t – let it show.

Sirius had started going out a lot with McKinnon ever since they’d become practically neighbours in London. He never gave details about what they did on their outings, and that gnawed at James.

James didn’t know how to feel about it, or maybe he did but just didn’t want to face it. He wasn’t ready to lose Sirius to a girl – to anyone, really.

Merlin, he could barely stand it when Sirius and Moony smoked together, or when Sirius and Pete went out for a pint without him.

It felt wrong, unfair, like they were cutting into something that was supposed to belong to him alone. James knew they were Sirius’s best mates too, but that didn’t matter.

Sirius revved the engine, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as the new bike rumbled beneath them.

“This is insane,” James laughed, but the sound was swallowed by the roar of the motor.

He leaned closer, the heat of Sirius’s back pressed against his chest igniting a fire that spread through his entire body, pooling low in his stomach.

Every inch of James thrummed with desperate longing, and that intoxicating closeness made it nearly impossible for him to think straight.

Sirius’s leather jacket creaked as he shifted, and for a second, James could feel Sirius’s heartbeat – quick and unsteady, like his own.

....

[mrbensonmum]

TV Show - Dr. House | House M.D. XIII

THAT'S A WRAP!

We did it! Last night, the final episode of Dr. House flickered across the screen, and I must say, this rewatch was extremely enjoyable for me, partly because of writing about it. But from start to finish, there wasn't a single part that felt like a struggle, because the series is consistently good.

Cuddy is gone, Foreman is the new head of the hospital, and House is in jail. If that's not a spectacular start to a season, then I don't know what is.

But before that happens—since we still had a few episodes left from the seventh season—we see House completely out of control. First, injecting himself with experimental substances and then surgically removing the resulting tumors from his leg. After that, he tries, in his own way, to make things right with Cuddy, but it's increasingly failing. Even though I can understand some of his accusations toward her to a certain extent, what happens toward the end of the season is anything but justified.

In the eighth season, we see a very bizarre side of House, but one action hints at why he keeps resorting to such strange means. When he makes the immigration office document disappear, forcing Dominika to stay with him, he reveals something that has been subtly apparent all along—that he's incredibly lonely. Not everything can be attributed to this theme, but it does explain a lot! Especially what will happen with Wilson becomes increasingly clear.

Otherwise, Season 8 is another wild rollercoaster ride, not just in terms of the cases but also in terms of character development. During his time in prison, House meets the young doctor, Dr. Jessica Adams, whom he immediately adds to the team when he returns to Princeton-Plainsboro. There's also the suspended doctor, Dr. Chi Park, and after some initial difficulties, Taub and Chase make it back onto the team. From then on, everyone on the team faces some really tough challenges, and the worst one, towards the end of the season, comes to House himself. His best friend, what irony, is diagnosed with cancer. House has to confront many inner demons from then on and realizes that soon there will be no one left who truly understands his character and is also somewhat friendly towards him.

House tries everything to prevent Wilson's death because he doesn't want to lose this important person and also knows that his future would be uncertain without this support. But he's fighting windmills because Wilson has seen and experienced too much already to want to undergo treatment. He wants to enjoy the remaining time he has left.

I particularly liked Wilson's development because at the beginning, he's quite a thin, rather boring oncologist, and in the end, he's the tough, three-day-beard biker with a leather jacket. Especially when he's on the bike and puts on the glasses, he looks incredibly good, even though tragically plagued by cancer, just good!

What I find unfortunate, but can understand from an actress's perspective, is that we didn't see Lisa Cuddy (Lisa Edelstein) again. In the end, when House gets another beating in the burning house, he hallucinates quite a few people, and even Kutner and Stacy are there. On the other hand, Cuddy might have simply taken up too much space, especially after what happened in the last episode of the seventh season. Maybe it's for the best that she didn't show up again because otherwise, it might have felt like the focus was only on their relationship. Instead, it felt more like it was about each person and House, as well as the processing of different periods in his life or his drug addiction.

Whether there's such a thing as a perfect ending for a series, I don't know, but the ending of House comes pretty close. Of course, you're initially a bit disappointed because even though eight seasons are long and an ending can be a good thing, you don't want to let go just like that, and the inner series junkie demands more. But objectively speaking, this ending is really good because we've seen so many facets of House that it might feel forced now if there were more. We see how Adams and Park are firmly established in a team, Chase has finally found his place (I think his development is very good and how much more stable he is compared to the early seasons), and Taub embraces his role as a father. Cameron is also happy, which makes us all happy. And we also get another wonderful look at a still relatively healthy Thirteen, wonderful. Plus, there's that little nod with Foreman finding House's ID under a side table. Judging by his expression, you might think he knows House is still alive but is content that he has found his peace.

As often, I only picked out the really prominent parts from the season! The eighth season is full of interesting cases, exciting interactions with patients and the team, and a lot of new things, compared to the old seasons.

The thing between Park and Chase.

Chase being attacked and seriously injured by a patient (which is used to give him the necessary distance and make his team takeover make more sense)

Taub, who has a pretty established presence but still hasn't quite found his place in life

Foreman, who doesn't know whether he should be like House, like Cuddy, or just like Foreman as the head

What happens next? I honestly don't know yet. Yesterday, I looked around a bit and then decided on Bullet Train (2022). I still have to continue with Halo, but maybe I'll wait until the season is finished and then binge-watch everything in one evening, we'll see. But one thing I know is that I feel like watching something in the crime genre again!

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 28

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress @starry-eyed-wild-child

Mike had taken quite the lick from Leff once he made it back into the garage. Sicky told him that Leff almost drove over and beat his ass but he talked him out of it. Making it through the week felt like it was dragging on but seeing Y/n back at work made it easier.

They had tracked down the guys who robbed Y/n's and Sicky said he took care of it. He didn't want to ask what that meant but when she opened the bar back up, everyone made sure to leave fat tips for her so she could recoup some of the money she lost.

Y/n told him that she was going to come down instead of having him come up so he waited a minute or two before pressing the button.

"I'm on the way down now." She called through the speaker. Mike stood, biting his thumbnail to remain calm. He had bought a new jacket for this date. He left his hat at home and made sure to actually put some aftershave on to cover the smell of the joint he smoked.

The door opened and Mike spun around to see Y/n in a red dress with ruffles on the hem, some cute black booties and a leather jacket of her own. She had her hair pinned up and had a bit more makeup on then she normally did.

"W-wow." Mike almost swallowed his tongue when he saw her. She smiled at him and did a little spin.

"I clean up nice." She says coming down the steps and kissing him.

"Fuck...you look...fuck." Mike couldn't find words and Y/n blushed.

"You don't look so bad yourself." She looked at him and he looked like he actually brushed his hair. He ran his hand through his hair and she noticed blood on his hand.

"Hey what happened to your hand?" She took his hand and he shook his head.

"Oh it's nothing. I was biting my nail-" Mike tried to brush it off.

"Why are you biting your nails? You already got the date." She teased.

"Well yeah but I've got to try and not fuck it up now." He chuckles nervously.

"You aren't gonna fuck it up." She says firmly but he still looks nervous. She takes his bleeding thumb and pops it into her mouth making his jaw gape open. She sucked the blood from his thumb and he blew a breath out trying to keep from losing it.

"Oh...okay." Mike cleared his throat.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked holding his hand in hers, lacing her fingers into his. He led her to the car and opened the door. Y/n slipped into the car and Mike got in the car feverishly. He drove to a restaurant that wasn't exactly fancy but it was nice enough that he actually put thought into the first date. They got past ordering and drinks before she caught him blushing.

"What?" She asked curiously.

"I just...I honestly never expected you to agree to go out with me. I'm kind of shit at this whole dating thing. I'm usually just a casual fling kinda guy." Mike confessed.

"Oh yeah? What made you ask me on a date then? We were already hooking up." She cocked her eyebrow.

"I like you. The sex is..epic but the times that you still worked at the garage, just riding around talking and shooting the shit, that's the most fun I've had with a woman, non-sexually in a minute. I've never met anyone whose presence was just...enough to keep me intrigued." Mike explained. She blushed listening to him talk about why he liked her and wanted to date her and not just hook up.

"You know, I've had a few relationships here and there but they've always been insanely toxic." Y/n confessed feeling a little vulnerable.

"Maybe I'll be a nice change of pace then. At least I hope I can be." Mike slid his hand across the table and held it out palm up. Y/n smiled as she slipped her hand into his.

"God you're so getting laid tonight." She joked.

The rest of the dinner was spent talking about how they found themselves in New York, how they grew up, some awful dating stories and a very brief history of their families, which they both agreed was not first date conversation.

Mike's goal was to get Y/n to talk and laugh as much as possible while they were out. He wanted to learn as much as possible about her. He wanted to know what she liked, places she's always wanted to go, dreams she let go of because she grew up, things she's always wanted but no one had ever truly listened to her.

Y/n could tell Mike was absorbing every single detail about what she was saying. She had never been with a guy who actually gave a shit about what she had to say. He listened intently and asked questions. He was genuinely fascinated with her. When he spoke of himself, he always seemed dismissive.

"I want to hear about the music you make." Y/n interrupted him bagging on himself and he paused.

"Seriously?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah, you like making music right?" She presses.

"I love making music but...I mean it's not something I've ever seriously-"

"Why not?" She asked seeing him bite his lip.

"I don't know. I guess because I always just thought it was a pipe dream? Leff thinks it's a waste of time. I've played for an audience of one when my mom was alive but I've never put myself out there or anything." Mike seemed vulnerable talking about making music. Y/n hadn't seen this side of him before. He usually carried himself with this swagger that could convince you he at least knew the basics of what was going on or he'd have no problems trying to wing it.

"I'd love to hear you play." Y/n smiles. Mike's smile spread across his whole face and a slight blush with it.

"Anytime." Mike gave her hand a squeeze. Y/n made Mike feel like his future didn't have to be set in Leff's garage dealing and god damn if he wasn't in love with that idea.

[pastafossa]

The Glorious TRT Gift

I needed to make this one its own post specifically so I could link it on my TRT masterlist.

One of my highlights of going to the con was finally getting to meet with @wonderlandmind4​, who I’ve been chatting with for ages after bonding over the fic. It was one of those friendships where you finally meet and you feel like you’ve always known each other. There is no awkward period, no ‘um who are you exactly’. Just boom, we’re hugging, we’re chattering, we’re getting kicked out of Panera because we lost track of time while talking and they’re closing, we’re exchanging friendship gifts. And there was one in particular that was very special. If you’ve been around on tumblr, then you may have seen my mentions of her teasing about whatever this TRT gift was. I know she told a couple other people at the con, but when she finally gave it to me, I was just... stunned, and I immediately teared up.

She'd created a funko display of black suit Matt and a custom Funko Jane she'd ordered. It was set above the streets of the Kitchen, complete with beautiful, glittering threads she'd made and attached herself, with the Hell's Kitchen skyline at night as the backdrop.

Jane even has her key necklace, along with her leather jacket! Seriously, the fact that they have not just a red thread, but Matt also has his white thread signifying his love for his city, is just... perfection.

Girl, this is one of the wildest, sweetest, most thoughtful things I've been given and I have repeatedly teared up when proudly showing it to friends and family. My geek friends on my socials are literally losing their minds over it. I literally carried this in the Keanu Jesus tote bag with me every time I left the car on the ride home because I wanted to make sure nothing happened to it. The second I got home, I was rearranging the Matt Murdock shrine so I could set it up front and center. And I've been looking at it and touching it on and off all day, just stunned that someone loved TRT enough to make it. It is absolutely perfect and I love it so, so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 😭

[elfven-blog]

All the damn vampires (3)

Leon Kennedy x F!Reader A series based on the 1987 film 'The Lost Boys'

CW: MDNI (18+ series), no smut this chapter!

Word count: 2.1k

I'm sorry for how long this took!!

After that night on the road with Leon, you had returned home having been able to catch Claire before she left hers and told her you weren’t feeling the best but would make it up to the two of them. Which is what brought you back to the boardwalk.

You’d paid for their food, and now the three of you were walking to the seaside rides while you ate ice cream. The girls had been grilling you on the life you had before moving, and on why you had moved. Claire had shrugged her shoulders arms spread as she declared how excited she was to get out of ‘this dumb fucking town and its dumb fucking missing posters’...clearly excited to go away to her Washington college.

Rebecca shook her head as she listened, a smile on her face “I dunno, I like it here. Having the sea so close is a nice perk.” Claire made a disgusted noise, pretending to gag at Rebecca’s words and drawing a laugh out of you. You had also told your new friends about the blonde constantly occupying your thoughts, and they had given you warnings about him.

“You should be careful, David’s gang are..trouble”.

“There’s just somethin’ wrong about them”. “Honestly! My brother says there’s always complaints about them at the station!” “Just don’t do anything dumb okay? We don't want you banned from the boardwalk too”.

All those warnings seemed to just go in one ear and out the other as they spoke to them, you nodded along and responded when they said them but you’d already made your mind up about the blonde biker. 

It wasn’t until later in the night that your opinion on him would shift more in line to that of your friends.

The three of you had spent the rest of the evening and some of the night on the boardwalk, you’d even managed to win a teddy from a game. Most of the games were aimed at you losing your money, not that it mattered while you were having fun with your new friends. As you were walking back towards the merry-go-round, your attention was on the silly photos the three of you had taken. Claire had large glasses on, and Rebecca had a tiny hat, the three of you posing in stupid ways. 

As you weren’t paying attention, you didn’t notice the familiar leather jacket making its way into your vision until an arm swung around your shoulder and pulled you into a cold side. A voice rumbling into your ear “Well hello there sweetheart” the pace of your heart sped up at the sound. 

A grin took over your mouth as you looked over at him, and something you couldn’t place flashed in his eyes as his hand slid lower to your waist instead. “Hey! How have you been?” you’re not really sure how to speak to him. Not after what happened when you last saw him. His blonde brow arches up, his head tilting and causing his hair to shift so that he blows it away.

“Really pretty girl?” He shakes his head, pitching his voice up as he mocks you, “How have you been?” your face goes red with embarrassment as you try to shake him off but his grip tightens and he pulls you closer to his side. “No no, I’m sorry doll, I’m sorry! C’mon don’t ruin the fun” 

His breath fans over your neck as he leans in close, his teeth scraping against the skin. And you swear they feel sharper than normal teeth but as you turn to look at him, his teeth are well, normal. You run a hand over your face, maybe all those rumours are starting to get to you.

Instead you roll your eyes at Leon, and smirks before pressing his lips to your ear. It’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself, or any other part of his body as his tongue dips to lick along the shell of your ear. “Let’s go and have some fun” comes that honey-soaked voice in your ear, and he’s easily able to pull you away from where you were going. Claire and Rebecca slip from your mind completely.

The blonde pulls you over to where his friends are, and the four of them seem to be terrorising the poor boardwalk guard as he tries to get them off the carousel. But once they see Leon, they walk away from their prey immediately, cheering and teasing the young man as they approach the both of you. And nerves fill your entire body, thrumming with electricity as the boys surround you as you wonder what they have planned.

You know you probably shouldn’t feel like this, especially when your friends had literally just warned you about the band of no-good doers but there seemed to be some kind of pull as the now six of you started walking towards where the band was playing on the seafront. Leon took your wrist, his cold fingers against your warm skin as he pulled you into the crowd and you saw one of the boys, Marko, wriggle his eyebrows at you causing you to blush before they were gone from sight.

Leon kept you close to him, grinning at you with that pretty smile as you danced together. The world falling apart around you until it was just the two of you, everybody else disappearing as your hands wandered against each other’s sides and your own trailed down his chest. It felt like you were in a trance as you swayed with almost no space between you, the scent of lemon and rust filling your nose before it was gone just as you’d registered it. You stumble as someone bumps into you, causing you to press against Leon’s sturdy chest, his hands settling on your waist and you watch as he glares at the other person. You swear you see his eyes change colour but as he looks to ask if you’re okay, you only see the blue.

With a shake of your head to clear your thoughts you give him the okay, and Leon snarls at the other person causing them to stumble back in shock you assume. The pair of you move away from the dancing, Leon’s grip feels tight on you making sure you don’t get lost. 

It’s towards the others that you head in the direction of, they’re all sitting around their bikes, the laughter filling the air now that you’re away from the music that made your ears pound. You give them a polite smile, shifting on your feet awkwardly and feeling like an outside until Paul slings an arm around your shoulder and makes a joke about the newbie on the beach needing to learn about the real Santa Carla and what the natives do for fun.

It seems to set the others off as they all pile towards getting on their bikes, Leon immediately tugging you onto his own. Your eyes widen as you straddle the vehicle, unsure how to sit or where to put your hands until the blonde snickers and pulls your hands to wrap around his waist “Hold tight, sweetheart” he whispers to you as the bike comes to life under you causing you to jump at the feeling of the vibrations and you push yourself closer to him. The grin never left his face as he felt you almost crush him to not fall off. None of the boys seem to care as they go faster and faster, some of them howling as their hair whips around them.

The sight of them having fun starts to quell the fear in you and it doesn’t take long until you’re joining Marko and Dwayne in their hooting and yowling. Leon turns his head to look at you, something gleaming in his eyes before he turns back to the road and speeds his bike up more. He easily catches up to David who laughs at the sight of you and decides to start racing Leon which causes you to hold onto him tighter. 

Your heart races as they accelerate around the twists and turns that take them up the hills, your knuckles almost white from clenching at Leon’s jacket, the leather turning warm from your palms. The wind bites at your face turning it red and your breath pants against Leon’s ear, adrenaline rushes your veins and you can swear in that moment you could fly. Your head tilts back, your eyes closing as you enjoy the rush. You don’t notice the way the others look at you, their smiles turning to mirth and their gazes filled with delight at the sight of you.

The bikes eventually slow to a stop and you hear the shrill whistle of a train nearby. Your brow furrows as they stop their bikes and get off, the man you cling to pats your leg to signal that you need to get off too, so you do. Confusion still fogs your mind as they lead you to a train bridge. Leon squeezes your hand as you stand among the wooden slats of the track, your eyes widening at the sight of nothing below you. Your body starts to shake but the comforting feeling of his cool thumb soothed over the back of your hand, and you swallowed the thick saliva that had been building in your mouth.

“What are we doing?” you’d never heard your own voice tremble so much when asking a question, and David laughs which makes everyone else laugh, You turn to look at Leon only to find him avoiding your gaze and his hand finally drops your own as he makes his way over to the gang. 

“She wants to know what’s going on! Marco, she wants to know” his grin turns devilish as he looks at you, his head tilting and something flashes in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Your eyes shift to Marco as he shrugs his shoulders before jumping, disappearing below the bridge and even though you can hear his laughter below you somewhere, your heart still pounds as terror seems to grip at your heart and squeeze it.

You try to speak but no words leave your mouth, your eyes wide as your expression resembles that of a goldfish. “C’mon, it’s fun” rumbles out of Paul's mouth before he and Dwayne also disappear into that fog, and their howling becomes louder. David straightens up as he looks at Leon, his face suddenly serious as he arches an eyebrow at his fellow blonde. Leon just shrugs his shoulders at the silent question causing the bleach blonde to sigh and shake his head.

“Join us” is all he says before he’s below the tracks, and the whistle of the train is unexpectedly loud as the track shakes slightly while the machine creeps ever closer.

Leon looks at you expectedly, his hand held out to touch yours before he drops it. Worry sparks through his blue gaze before it’s gone. His tongue darting out to wet his lips, and his shoulders move with his own sigh “Join us, you gotta join us, doll” his low voice pleads like a broken record. You watch as he jumps with no fear, and you hear his voice join the others as they cajole you down below into joining their merry band.

And with a deep breath you do.

You smile at the blonde as you stand at his bike, one of his hands settled in its place against your hip while your own are on his cool leather jacket. He quickly tugs you down, his soft lips pressed to your own and he quickly commands your mouth to part so he can press his tongue inside. The muscle exploring in that path you're familiar with now as it runs over your teeth, seemingly paying attention to your canines before it gently coaxes your own tongue into his mouth too.

It seems like forever as you stand in that awkward position that makes your back ache but you don’t dare move. His hand bruises at your hip. And it isn’t until your lungs burn for oxygen that the biker pulls away from you by only inches so that you can gulp oxygen down. It seems like the kiss doesn’t make him as breathless even though you can feel his soft breaths on your lips, you are the only one left panting from your shared kiss.

His hand squeezes your hip one final time before he pats your thigh and tilts his head so that the blonde hair hangs down, and his lip shows that grin he loves to carry around you “Best go inside now, sweetheart, I’ll see ya tomorrow ‘kay?” and you nod at him but don’t actually move until he practically growls at you. You blink and back away, as if coming out of a trance after clearing your throat and beginning to walk inside your house.

You blush as you hear him rev his engine and let out a low whistle before he rides away.

[hanzajesthanza]

the mishmash of clothing that geralt’s company wear during their journey is delightfully piecemeal. it’s like half-brokilonian, half-stolen from banditry, half-clothes which actually belong to them. ik i made this post as a joke but i actually really love the outfits of the company

geralt and dandelion are dressed in hooden grey elven mantels. later in chapter 4, they’ve exchanged them for homespun cloaks stolen from the guards, which they used to escape the camp. from though he still has his recognizable headband and medallion, geralt is seemingly almost incognito as he wears a leafy-patterned elven jerkin from the dryads. (and for even more brokilon influence, before zoltan gives him the dwarven sihill, he has a sword from col serrai).

speaking of dwarven fashions, dandelion receives a quilted jacket and a ‘swashbuckling’ marten-fur kalpak from zoltan and his company. he replaced his plum hat with the heron’s feather with this marten kalpak, so he as well is almost incognito. as far as accessories go, he has a brass-studded belt and the cruel-looking knife from the dwarves, too; although he immediately lost the knife. after the events of chapter 4 and in the middle of 5, his head is wounded and bandaged.

zoltan tells milva that she “looks too much like a squirrel” to approach humans alone — which is probably a result of her dress and her bow, of course. asides from her mahogany bow with whalebone risers, measuring 5 foot with a 24 inch draw length, shooting grey-fletched arrows… and one silver arrow… she’s likely dressed in some brokilonian or elven garb, owing to her work as an agent for brokilon. but she also wears “human” clothing, a blouse and woolen leggings. her belt is described, with a pouch and a hunting knife with a bone handle hanging off of it (and in the next book, she gives this knife to angoulême as a gift). perhaps most curiously, milva’s not mentioned to be wearing her iconic braid or plait during this book, rather her long hair is described as falling into geralt’s face when she leans over him in tense conversation in chapter 1, tossing her hair with a sudden movement when offended in chapter 5…

cahir is almost unrecognizable as nothing he wears betrays him as nilfgaardian, instead he’s dressed in a hauberk, leather tunic and cloak from the men who were transporting him. but this hauberk becomes ever-so iconic in its own right as it plays such a role in the fish soup… as a strainer.

regis, of course, dresses modestly and is perhaps the only one of the company dressed in his own clothes not signalling affiliation to a larger faction or taken from some roving banditry. black robes, something like an apron tied around the waist. when they meet him, he has a linen bag, but when they leave, he’s exchanged it for a leather one. and also, a walking stick, which is never mentioned again by the writing... he also has his nigh-iconic black, woolen cloak-cape, which he wraps himself up in…

and the horses! do not forget the horses. geralt’s elven roach, a bay mare who rides as if bitted by horseflies. the lazy and docile bay gelding pegasus, of course, remains dandelion’s steed. cahir rides on a chestnut colt, which he loses but later recovers. milva’s black horse, which she tells geralt not to touch in chapter 1, which also becomes the subject of debate in chapter 4. regis rides on a nilfgaardian bay near the end of the novel, by which point they’ve also obtained a riderless grey horse which carries their modest belongings.

these small little details are all just described so wonderfully across the course of the book, the picture is painted for you eventually, over time, your attention is rewarded with an intricate picture at the end…