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#get fucked just because a person is seen in this way for this reason doesn’t deny their entire history
heavenangelly · 3 days
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I feel like people are constantly trying to find ways to make the law seem fake. Telling people you’re being delusional, that it’s just a placebo effect, that it’s not real, that it can’t happen, etc. Is it so hard to believe that there is a power within you that can make your life marvellous? That can make you free? That anything you ever desire, can become true instantly? That you’d never have to struggle again? Doesn’t it sound amazing? Because it’s way better than believing any of those limiting beliefs. You have a way OUT with the law. Why do you want to believe otherwise?
All that you’ll ever have to do to “get” your desire is to be the person that already has it / is it. Since you are now that person, it is an assumption. And since the law is literally called, the LAW of ASSUMPTION, that’s all you’ll ever have to do. It’s so fucking simple. And the LAW will never change. It’s been around since humans (possible animals) existed. The only difference is that humans have now become aware. That people (Neville, Abdullah, Edward, bloggers, etc) have started preaching and showing people the truth of life and the power you hold within you.
STOP trying to find ways to prove to yourself that the law is fake. What you seek, you shall find. And in your seeking, you manifest what you’re seeking, so you’ve already lost.
You are always manifesting. Throughout your whole life you have manifested things, consciously or unconsciously (excluding trauma and things you didn’t know about). You have always been a master manifester. You have always chosen to believe/assume things. And it has ALWAYS been reflected. The law never fails.
Actually PRACTICE (consciously) the law and you will see what I mean. Go on your journey and explore your unlimited power. Understand who you are, how to manifest, and why the 3d doesn’t matter. Then, you will be destined to succeed.
And please, stop letting other peoples beliefs become your own. They’re irrelevant and do not matter in your world. You create; so only YOU matter. Become confident in who you are and what you believe in and these measly, insecure, desperate people will fade away. Become confident in the law by applying it. You are God. Wake up.
Another note is, is that none of these bloggers gaf about TikTok’s or some random npc’s beliefs because they have practiced the law and have SEEN their world MELT before their eyes to accommodate them. They know it, they’ve seen it, they believe it. They have no reason to doubt. None of us would lie for shits and giggles.
Do not let the world sway you from your power.
Xoxo,
Heavenangelly.
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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I just want good angst about Bruce desperately trying to parent Tim but realizing he fucked it up
or Bruce realizing he kinda sees tim as a father figure in a weird way
or the bats all realizing how Tim’s been forced to mature quickly so he can take care of them, and he won’t stop trying to be the adult in situations even after the bats try to make it so he doesn’t have to
There are a few fics out there that center around Tim and Bruce's relationship after Bruce realizes how bad he treated Tim. "Grudge (I hold none)" by reinersbigtits. "Just How Much I Love You" by sElkieNight60. Honestly, a bunch of sElkieNight60 fics have Bruce trying to be a better parent. Their fic "Redraw Our Expectations" showcases Bruce trying to parent Tim and the teen finds that strange, weird, and restrictive. They chat about it.
I sadly haven't seen any fics where Bruce considers Tim to be his father. I have seen a few that describe Tim as his closest confidant or mental support, but none about the father hc/au :(
If you want some quick angst about Bruce seeing Tim as a father figure, here's an idea:
Bruce is ruminating on his kids. As he's going through his mental list of the kids (perhaps trying to remember where they all are), he realizes that it's an effort to add Tim to that list. At first, Bruce clocks it as the older man being a horrible parent to Tim or needing more time with his son. Bruce wants to fix this and sets out to do so. He tracks down Tim to spend some time with him.
Halfway through the hangout, Bruce starts to relax. They are both having a good time, chatting and laughing. It only changes when he notices Tim's subtle nods, his slight mannerisms that encourage Bruce to keep talking, and the scrunch at the corner of Tim's eyes that indicate he's proud. It's an errant thought of the older man, but one that rapidly changes his worldview.
Tim acts like Alfred.
Tim acts like a father to Bruce.
Tim has always acted like a father to Bruce.
What has Bruce done?
The comment about Tim continuing to be the "adult" or "mature one" in the situation because that's all he's known hurts. If you add that hc to the one where Tim is constantly told to "be the bigger person" when it comes to being insulted by his traumatized family members, that's painful.
Alright, let's build on this hc/au. I'm going to use subtle canon background clues to create a probable psychological assessment on Tim's behaviors. The reasonings are all hc.
Tim was emotionally neglected and abused by his parents (not nearly to the extent of fanon and his parents did love him, but that doesn't change their emotional distance or the harm Jack did after his coma). One could hc that, due to the limited time he spent with them before they left again, Tim tried to keep the peace when they were there. He wanted to spend the time with his parents not fighting, even if that meant choking down his own emotions/needs, placating his parents, and overall keeping a pleasant demeanor around them regardless of passive aggressive insults (looking at Jack here).
If his parents had marital issues, like fighting and insulting each other in front of Tim, the child might have tried to mend their fights and solve their issues in order to spend more time with happy parents. It's a helpful behavior that could've been praised by Jack and Janet, leading to Tim continuously uptaking a mediator role.
This would morph into a people pleasing attitude that heavily clashed with Tim's independence and lack of authority in his life. This is what enables him to be suited for kicking a depressed, angry Bruce into his healing arc (enables, but doesn't excuse Bruce's reliance on a child nor condone it). Tim would probably insert himself into Dick and Bruce's relationship.
Unlike his parents, Dick and Bruce probably weren't happy an unrelated kid was mediating their relationship or getting in the middle of their arguments. Because of their contant rejection to Tim's efforts, the kid's behavior could morph into a more subtle and subterfuge manner. This comes in handy when Jason and Damian come around (because they for sure would not listen to Tim's advice).
Tim, because he's spent his entire life managing other people's emotions for them, would understand where Damian and Jason are coming from as they hurt him. It is painful, and he may hold some resentment towards them (and a frozen anger), but he's used to yanking back his emotions and shoving them into an overfilled box. That's the easy part.
What's burdensome for him is the family. After realizing the lengths Tim goes to in order to ensure their bonds stay strong, they keep pressuring Tim to release some of his responsibilities. They want the relationships to be more equal.
Tim can't, though. If he lets go of his tight grip on holding the family together, he'll have to face that box of emotions he shoved down. He'll have to work through all the pain, anger, betrayal, grief, and desolation all of his family members gave him. If he accepts that he shouldn't be taking on so much emotional labor, he would have to face that he shouldn't have been subjected to so much abuse (from the Drakes or the Waynes).
Tim can't do that without falling apart.
He can't keep his hold on the family's support beams either.
It's not healthy nor productive for Tim to keep his position. Without releasing the pressure from his back, Tim will collapse and take the Waynes with him. He's too scared to let go, though. Will he survive the break? Will he have a place with the Waynes if he's not holding them up?
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What gets me with Vel is that we see she has a good rapport with her coworkers/friends. She may sometimes roll her eyes at the other two and their antics and of course when her direct business gets interrupted she gets frustrated, but we mostly see her on good grounds with the rest of the Vees. They respect her when it comes to serious business and in that last scene of the season they all look to be very much on the same page and in it together, smiling about their future... yet fanon (if it isn't infantalizing her as you've pointed out) is constantly projecting "angry black woman" stereotypes onto her.
It's gross and in my opinion clearly racially motivated that they see her as nothing more than a "bitchy" woman of color. While the fanon I've seen also has separate gross issues with Vox and Val they are at least allowed some nuance on occasion, but I just don't ever see that with Vel, she's just an angry woman rendered to the background in their eyes stripped completely of her professionalism, intellect, and cunning. She's one of my faves and it sucks so bad to see.
Hi. :) I wrote 5 paragraphs in response to this question and Tumblr so graciously decided to delete fucking all of it. :)
The Hazbin Hotel fandom has a serious racism problem and not enough people are talking about it. Aside from the infantilization of Velvette, other BIPOC characters are put into stupid stereotypes or treated like children because either Vivzie can’t handle writing competently or the fandom doesn’t know how to behave themselves. This is especially apparent for the women, but—and this is probably the only time I will talk about him in this way—Valentino is also suffering from this shitass issue.
Firstly about Velvette, just like how this said, Velvette used to be treated like a child in canon (now fanon) and is being portrayed as only a sassy angry black woman by the fandom. This is disgusting! I don’t think I need to say that! For some reason (misogyny) the Hazbin fandom just has this thing where they take a POC person or a woman—usually both—and decide to treat them like a child. Best examples being Niffty and Velvette being portrayed as Angel & Husk’s and Vox & Valentino’s children. Niffty is 22 and Velvette is in her 30’s. And of course they are both POC. I know there’s going to be someone accusing me of just whining about racism or being like “not everything is about race” but shut the fuck up because I’m busy talking.
I think the best scene to depict Velvette’s character—even though she hardly has any scenes. It shows that she will and can respect her colleagues but for other people, you either need to give her something she wants or her respect needs to be earned. She literally sings a whole song about it.
For other characters like Niffty I have a post for her in the works so I won’t spill it all here, but I can’t in good faith talk about the racism problem without mentioning Valentino. The fact Vivzie has made her worst character into the basic tall hot hispanic/latino man with the hot spanish accent stereotype. Honestly this sort of stereotype doesn’t bother me much, there’s a few villain characters I like with it like Alejandro from TDI, but Vivzie making this a big aggressive and dangerous POC person abusing a sad little white guy just grosses me out. It’s not like the situation would be any better if Angel wasn’t white, but it really does just leave that extra sour taste in my mouth.
Also I don’t need to explain why 90% of the POC cast being fucking grey or purple or blue is bad right.
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findafight · 2 days
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The "Robin would never date Steve's ex who broke his heart" take is FUCKING stupid for a lot of reasons.
First of off, the autonomy you're taking out of Robin with this.
Like she's not Steve's sidekick, she's not his yes man, she's an indepent girl who should be free to date any girl she wants.
She would never let her friendship with him ostacolate her love life.
Why the fuck she should do that?!
No one would.
And also, Steve is actually the one who hurt Nancy the most (slut Nancy Wheeler).
And if you think for a second that Robin would ever take Steve's side, then you're wrong.
Just stop centering everything around Steve, and stop reducing Robin to be just his sidekick, 'cause she's FUCKING not.
Hi! So. Pretty sure you found the most recent post I made (on April 6th) tagged anti rnce (and ONLY anti rnce. Not even stranger things. Just anti rnce and my personal original text post tag and a quip about choosing violence. So clearly if that’s how you got here you chose to not just send a post you disagreed with to your friends to rant about but came into my inbox and tried to start shit)And if you didn’t I truly don’t get how you, clearly a rnce fan, found me.
I’m going to be honest. Neither of us are going to change each other’s minds. I don’t like rnce for a lot of reasons, from i just don’t see a romantic spark there to a lot of the shippers being kinda shitty. I don’t care what you ship, really, just that. Claiming it’s canon or should be canon endgame etc gets annoying. And that a lot of the times the way I’ve seen the relationship portrayed (because, contrary to possibly popular belief, I have actually tried to read some fics for them. It’s also such a commonly untagged side or background pairing that I am subjected to it like that often as well) there’s so often weird terf or radfem red flags and alarm bells going off. I’ve seen someone harassed by rnce shippers for calling them out and then those shippers loudly regurgitating terf talking points like it’s fucking funny. I know all fandoms and ships have bad eggs but holy shit.
There’s been a few posts about how for some reason rnce fans try to portray people who don’t like it as making Robin Steve’s sidekick, when really we are acknowledging the facets of her characterization other than her lesbianism. Just because she likes girls doesn’t mean that’s the only thing that matters to her!
Yes, Robin liking girls is part of who she is, it influences how she acts and what she talks about, but it’s not the ONLY thing about her. She likes old movies, she enjoys pop and new wave music, she does her make up in her best friend’s car, she forgot to mention she never learned to drive because he forgot to ask if she could, she thinks combining into a super being with said best friend would possibly solve most of their problems.
Robin is a character who makes her own choices! She chooses to butt in at scoops, chooses to stay with Steve in the bunker to hold off the Russians, chooses to tell him her deepest secret, chooses to apply for jobs with Steve once they heal from the mall, chooses to spend a lot of time with him! And that’s rad. It gives us insight on who she is!
Whenever I’ve written or talked about Robin choosing not to date Nancy, I’ve always made it perfectly clear that it is Robin’s choice. Because given what we see of her in two seasons, Robin is loyal, and greatly values her friendship with Steve. Like. Regardless of how Steve feels about it, and I do think of Robin was legitimately interested in Nancy and Steve thought she had a chance, he’d encourage her to go for it. (Steve isn’t blindly encouraging Robin to hit on Vickie. He has high suspicions that Vickie is queer in some way too! She likes boobies!) I think Robin would think twice about it just because how much she encouraged stancy to get back together in s4.
Honestly, it makes me sad seeing how many times “why would robin choose her best friend’s feelings over getting a gf” is said because like. I value my friends’ feelings all the time. If I thought something I was doing was or would hurt them, I would reevaluate. Why WOULDNT Robin consider her best friend’s feelings? The first person she ever came out to? Who made her feel safe and accepted? Who made her laugh when she felt most vulnerable? Who she encouraged to get back with his ex? Romance is not a level up from friendship, it is not the endgame of life, it is not superior to any other relationship type. Treating friendships as less important to romance is something to reconsider and reevaluate.
Your last point. Anon, who is centring Steve now? Sure. He fucked up in s1. Literally no one denies that. He fucked up and he worked to make things right. He cleaned up the graffiti, he went to apologize to Jonathan, and he presumably apologized to Nancy, because she decided to date him for eleven months after that. I highly doubt there wasn’t heavy gossip about the graffiti or their breakup/makeup. I do agree that before Tina’s party Steve wasn’t helping Nancy as much as he could have, but Nancy wasn’t communicating to him either. They weren’t in the right place for each other. If we consider the alley the breakup, how is that not still breaking his heart? Yes Nancy was on a noble crusade, but it still had collateral damage. It’s something interesting about her character!
Robin wouldn’t be on board with the graffiti. But like. Steve’s changed and apologized since then. And She wasn’t there? She’s just here for the aftermath of Steve’s reignited feelings for Nancy. Idk. Both Steve and Nancy hurt each other in s1/2. It’s not a Steve v Nancy thing? It’s just an acknowledgment that of the two, Robin is closer to Steve. She’s more likely to consider him. She’s not omniscient to everything that happened or the persons feelings and reasons for doing it.
I’m sorry you don’t think friendship has an equal or greater value than some romantic relationship, it must suck. I also hope you find better things to do than to come to someone’s inbox and try to start something over a ship you like that they don’t.
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rashoumon-homo · 2 days
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Rant ahead, prolly gonna delete later
TW: gender dysphoria, fetishization of trans men in fanfiction
Idk if it’s just me but I’m a trans guy who typically won’t touch “trans male [character]” smut fics with a ten foot pole. I’ve found a handful that are respectfully written, but for the most part they make me feel so fucking uncomfortable. It’s like the (non-trans) writers don’t see trans men as real men. There’s frequent untagged feminization, excessively feminine terms, and an alarming number of pregnancy fics. I get that some people like these things, and I respect that, but that’s pretty much ALL that’s out there. It’s like they want to write for a m/m ship but only want to write m/f smut, so they slap “trans” on there. It’s so blatantly obvious that the majority of these writers have never done a drop of research on what it means to be trans masc, much less MET a trans masc person irl.
Not only that, complaining about it makes YOU the bad guy. I made a post on the AO3 subreddit back when I first joined it (aka before I knew better) just kind of venting about the way trans characters are written in fics. I was a lot more gentle and understanding about it than I’m being here btw. And instantly the post got flooded with comments saying that “just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean other people don’t.” Or “my roommate’s boyfriend’s brother is trans and he doesn’t care about that stuff.” Or that people are free to write whatever they want and if I don’t like it I shouldn’t be reading it. (My favorite one was “I’m cis but I don’t see an issue”) I ended up deleting the post.
Back in February there was this fic I read that did all that same shit and it pissed me off. Untagged feminization, afab language, the whole shebang. And I KNOW that author wouldn’t have treated the character that way if they were writing a cis man. For legal reasons, this comment was not written by me, but it was deleted by the author right away with no response.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I blocked them and moved on.
I guess what brought all these emotions back was a post I saw where someone was complaining about other cultures being written in an accidentally offensive way in fics. The same people who tore down my post (and others like it) were suddenly all into the idea of respecting the cultures you write, doing research on them, etc. How is trans culture any different? Why is it “um actually some trans guys like being feminized” but then “these cultural stereotypes are offensive and the author should do better?”
Not too long ago, I decided to start writing trans characters in fics. It was really tough for me, since I had to battle a lot of my own dysphoria, but I felt like it was worth it if it meant there was just one more fic out there to make trans people feel seen and respected. Being seen as a real man and being trans should not be mutually exclusive. It’s possible to be both. And it’s painfully obvious when the writer doesn’t see it like that.
If you’re trans and you feel the same way about all this, lmk. Sometimes I feel like I really am the unreasonable one and that I’m all alone here and it really fucks with my head.
And if you’re cis and wanting to write trans characters, I implore you to learn about us first. Trans people are not a shortcut to writing m/f smut. They have their own unique experience of the world that needs to be taken into account if you’re going to write them respectfully. Listen to trans voices. Please.
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bootleg-nessie · 6 months
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Rating band names based on their accuracy:
(I keep updating this list so check back later)
The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts
(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)
Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink
Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like
Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it
The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to
Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury
Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams
The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few
U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band
Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”
Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot
Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music
Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location
Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes
The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho
Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago
Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used
Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho
The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location
The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate
Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.
Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go
Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green
The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band
KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes
The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me
We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable
They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants
The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two
Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit
The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not
The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring
Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic
Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that
Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar
Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew
Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole
Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that
Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go
The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate
Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long
Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking
The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit
Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head
Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful
Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden
Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out
Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk
The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list
The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot
Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!
Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma
Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction
Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways
Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it
Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points
Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal
Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury
D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band
NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it
Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud
Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold
No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts
The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes
Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally
Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad
Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one
Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death
Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band
Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie
Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are
Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools
Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment
Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is
Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis
Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast
Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead
Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?
Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify
ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite
5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with
All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this
T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments
Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10
The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons
The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins
Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history
Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot
Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this
Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out
Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out
Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are
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wroteclassicaly · 2 months
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18+
When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.
It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.
He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.
~*~
It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.
Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.
Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?
Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.
Holy fuck… he’s big.
Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.
A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm
And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.
“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.
Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.
“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.
You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”
His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.
“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”
A fucking gentleman.
All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.
It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”
He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”
“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”
If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.
“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“
“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.
Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”
He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”
“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”
His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“
“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.
He answers without fear or pause. “You.”
// Eat me paragraph //
2K notes · View notes
naeviskz · 2 months
Text
“ PRETTY , PLEASE ” ๑‧˚₊ ─── FLX
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synopsis ; you think your roommate is really pretty, but you think he’s even prettier when he whines and begs for you.
genre 숌 virgin!felix x fuckgirl!reader | roommates AU
words - 4.0k+ tags/warnings 숌 fluff, pwp, smut, (slight age difference: felix is 23/reader is 25), sub!felix/dom!reader, noona kink?, perv!lix, oral (m), solo masturbation, corruption kink, edging, dacryphilia, rlly cute & soft ending tho <3
☆ 彡
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Have you ever met someone so pure and innocent that you feel the need to shield them from any and all bad influences that might corrupt them?
Those were your exact thoughts when you first locked eyes with your new roommate Felix. You thought he was the most precious little bean ever ;( His shy, timid nature made you want to coddle him like a baby, and always spoke in such a polite, well-mannered tone due to you being his senior. At first Felix didn’t talk very much when he moved in and was constantly cooped up in his room doing god knows what, but eventually he’d warm up to you and the two of you soon became really good friends.
You don’t particularly like most men, you tend to get annoyed with them easily, only using them for a quick fuck because that’s all they’re good for. Personally, you didn’t care to start getting serious with anyone at the moment, prioritizing work and other future goals instead of boys who come and go. Felix was quite literally the only exception to this. You genuinely enjoyed his company and valued him as more than a friend, he was so easy to talk to and could make anyone in a room feel comfortable with his presence.
You loved how he never made a fuss about chores when you didn’t feel like doing them. He was never rude or brought strangers over, and he kept to himself most of the time— the perfect roommate ever. Felix was studying biology at school to become a veterinarian as he’s told you many times he loves animals before. You were already out of school by now, as you graduated 2 years ago but you didn’t mind living with someone a couple years younger. He’s very mature for being in his early twenties, even more than some of the 30+ year old “men” you’ve slept with in the past.
One thing you’ve noticed since he’s always keeping to himself, he takes his schooling very serious and constantly studies. He never drinks, smokes, or goes out to parties, but he doesn’t act better than anyone either, it’s just how he is. You’ve never seen someone so dedicated to their work, wondering in the back of your mind if he even knows what taking a break means. You’ve tried getting to invite him out to other social events but he would always say that studying was far more important, you seriously never seen someone be so obsessed with school. Before you graduated, you weren’t a straight A student by any means but you did care about your grades, overall you still managed to balance a social life within.
Felix was never the judgmental type, he didn’t care if you brought a lot of friends over or the occasional hook up you’d have, he would just turn a blind eye to most of those things. You didn’t think it’d ever impact the way you both interacted but unfortunately after a while things have started to get a bit awkward between you. He’s been awfully more quiet these days and whenever you two would walk by in passing he could barely even look at you. Any time he did, it was if he’d seen a ghost or something— the way his face went pale from being drained of all color and would immediately hurry back into his room.
You don’t know what’s up with him but the more he’s been treating you this way the more you feel like he doesn’t seem to like you very much anymore. This weekend you plan to have a quick chat with him about everything and to clear up some potential misunderstandings. Little do you know the real reason why he’s been keeping his distance from afar…
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God he feels like such a creep for eavesdropping on you having sex with someone else right now.
It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, he simply walked past your door without a second thought but as he came closer he heard what is presumably you moaning out another guy’s name. That’s when it piques his curiosity to listen further, he’s only heard this type of stuff from watching porn but it’s a whole different experience when in real life. He should feel more than embarrassed about doing this, ashamed for invading his roommates privacy in such a horrid way but he doesn’t move. Only continuing to press his ear up against the mahogany door, getting a clearer sound of your wanton moans, feeling something shift.. a familiar throbbing sensation causes the sudden constriction in his pants.
He’s far too gone to even think about stopping at this point, subconsciously dragging his hand further down as he comes in contact with his hardened cock. All he could hear was skin slapping, imagining you bent over the bed while taking it from behind, arching your back as you pant louder for them to go faster and faster. Felix continues to feel himself through the constraints of his clothing but it wasn’t enough for him, it wasn’t enough to alleviate the discomfort down there. So he ends up going back to his room to finish his little fap sesh, ridding himself of everything, t-shirt, sweats, boxers— ready to finish what he accidentally started.
“___, please..” he’d stir in his bed, going to town on his cock as he pumps his hand around it, thinking about you on top of him. “Noona.. m’so close…” he whimpers out desperately, feeling so overly sensitive that his body’s buzzing with pleasure.
Felix was so overwhelmed in his thoughts he barely noticed the precum leaking out and spilling around his small hand, his eyes were completely shut and zoned out in utter bliss. He wishes nothing more than to have you doing this to him instead, wondering what it’s like to have a girl as hot as you jerk his cock for him, he’s never experienced what it’s like but he’d want you to be his first if he ever does. It frustrates him that he can’t have you in the same way those other guys do, they’re more experienced and can please you better than he could.
One thing he knows now is that he’ll never be able to look at you normally again after doing all of this.
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Things just couldn’t get any worse for him at this point. He’s now found a pair of your underwear which has mistakenly ended up in his laundry somehow. He didn’t do know what to do … if he tells you it accidentally got mixed in with his stuff then you’ll probably accuse him of stealing them as an excuse. Plus he didn’t want to face the embarrassment of even handing these back to you. It was a really pretty pair too, a red lace thong with black trim and a cute satin bow on the front. He wonders how your ass would look in these panties, secretly getting so jealous of all your hook ups and how they’ve all got to see you naked.
Felix decides the best course of action is to quickly return them in your room before you finish showering. He’ll simply sneak into your room, put them back in your underwear drawer, and he won’t have to think about it again, this was going to be the easiest plan of execution. Boy could he have been any more wrong. He couldn’t find which drawer they were supposed to be in, essentially wasting more and more time trying to find where to stash them. He honestly could’ve hid them anywhere but he was paranoid about that seeming suspicious too. Then he just considers possibly keeping them for himself. Playing with the fabric in his hands as he thinks of the idea to jerk his cock with your underwear wrapped around it. If only you knew the things he wanted you to do to him..
“What’re you doing in my room Lixie?” You question your roommate’s intentions as you walk in from getting out in the shower. You catch him holding something in his hands but quickly stuffs the object away in his pockets.
Fuck he’s totally screwed. There’s no going back from this now.
“Uh- nothing! I was just about to leave actually-” just as he attempts to make a run for it, he turns around and comes face to face with you in just a bath towel.
He’s legitimately gone crazy now, stopping dead in his tracks to gawk at your beauty. You exude high levels of sex appeal without even trying, it’s almost intimidating being in the same room as you. Felix thought you look absolutely gorgeous in your natural state, noticing the fresh water droplets still glistening on your skin and wet strands of hair sticking to your face. He really wants to know what’s underneath that singular layer, sensing another uncomfortable situation down there.
“Don’t be silly Lix, you looked like you were looking for something. What’re you holding?” You continue asking but he refuses to give any solid answers, telling you over and over how it’s “nothing” and he wasn’t lying but something didn’t seem right about his behavior.
You saw he put something in his pocket from earlier, so without a second thought you reach into that same pocket to grab whatever was in there. Everything happened so fast Felix didn’t even have time to process what was going on, mortified when he sees you pulling out a pair of your underwear from his sweatpants.
“Why do you have these?” Your expression was stone cold, you genuinely looked pissed off and it was starting to frighten him. He didn’t think you’d actually be upset about this but now he wishes he had just hid it somewhere randomly.
“It’s not what it looks like ___, you’ve got the wrong idea!”
“No I definitely know what’s going on here. Didn’t ever really take you as the type to be such a perv,” you chuckle at his horrible attempt in making any excuses. Coming closer to him now, placing both palms on his shoulders, you get all the way up to his ear and whisper, “I like perverts though ‘cause I’m one too.”
His face burned a crimson shade, growing flustered at your sudden dirty confession. The only thing he could do was gulp out of nervousness, even more worried if you discover the massive hard on he’s sporting in his pants. A subtle smirk forms onto your lips, debating where you should kiss and mark first but you want to take your time with someone like Felix— he’s too pretty not to. You lightly brush your lips against his neck, as if he’s so fragile and delicate, making him tremble from the sudden cool air you blow against his skin.
Felix felt his heart beating out of his chest, internally panicking at what’s soon to come. It’s not like he didn’t want any of this to happen, he’s just worried out his mind and tends to overthink everything. Those anxious thoughts were soon adjourned with a pair of soft lips against his trembling ones, eyes bulging out from the sudden shock of your actions. He stood there awkwardly for a bit as he’s never kissed someone before, he doesn’t know how he should react but he mimics your movements. You deepen the kiss even further, gently caressing the side of his face into your palm— his body was so stiff it made you feel self conscious about you making the first move. He was kissing you back but it didn’t feel like there was any emotion behind it, everything he’s doing seems so robotic and manufactured. You’re starting to think he may not actually be enjoying this.
“Something wrong?” You cautiously pull away to voice concern, regretting everything if he’s uncomfortable by your advances.
He mentally curses himself, feeling more upset at you thinking you’re the problem. “N-no… you’re perfect. This is perfect, it’s just- I’ve never done it before..” His voice trails off towards the end, embarrassed by his lack of experience.
“You’ve never had sex before?” You blink in confusion, it was seemingly impossible for someone as attractive as Felix to have never had a single sexual encounter in his life. However, you’d be more than happy to change that.
“No.” He shook his head, frowning at his sad revelation that he’s a 23 year old virgin.
“Awee, s’cute. I get to be your first!” You couldn’t help but find that to be so adorable, you haven’t took someone’s virginity since freshman year of college, it excites you all over again.
He’s seemingly surprised by the way you respond, “You’re not put off by that?” Most girls in your position wouldn’t want to deal with someone like him. He needs to be trained, taught exactly how to please a woman the way she needs to— which you’re more than capable of doing.
“No, why would I be?” It’s not everyday you hear a guy as handsome as Felix say that they’re a virgin, it intrigues you in some capacity. You want him to become your cute little plaything, someone only you can corrupt exactly the way you want.
“So you’ve never pleasured another girl before? Like not even fingering?” You delve deeper with more questions, wanting to know everything he’s done or hasn’t.
He shook his head yet again, “no, I’ve never done anything.”
This was unlike anything you’ve seen before, at least the other guys you knew who were virgins had actually done a few other things but this was new for you. The fact he was able to confide in you with something so personal made you want to be his first so badly. Maybe this was perfect— you were way more experienced than him so you can show him the ropes, how it’s really done. You express to him that it’s okay he was inexperienced, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and he’s in good hands now.
“What if I don’t do it right?” Felix looks so worried, his adam’s apple bobbed each time he nervously swallowed.
“You won’t because I’m here,” you reassure him by placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, flashing a warm smile. “I’ll show you how to, don’t be shy it’s fine baby. Just lye back on the bed and I’ll take care of you pretty.”
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He did everything he was told, all instructed by you. Lying down on the bed with his back against your pink silk pillow, the black tee he wore slightly rode up, causing you to get a glimpse of his tummy. It was too cute not to touch, your nimble fingers travel up his waist to raise his shirt higher, feeling up his lower body.
Felix felt so powerless as you hover over his frame, both your legs on either side of his, enclosing him in such a tight space. Taking slow, deep exhales, he grows more tense as you slide your hands north, it’s a whole new sensation he’s never felt before. His breath hitched at you suddenly coming in contact with his nipple, brushing over it ever so slightly to elicit a subtle reaction. You love how sensitive he’s become to any minor touch you provide, feeling your arousal leak further down to your thighs as you think of turning him into your personal slut.
“Should I take this off?” You suddenly propose an idea, referring to the bath towel that was hanging on you by a thread. It was seemingly already coming undone as you didn’t tie the front properly, he was able to get a good view of your chest peaking out at the top.
“Mhmm..” Felix hums in sexual frustration, unable to get a clear word or sentence out in any possible way.
You oblige, biting your lip seductively at him as you reach to untie the loose knot, slowly prying the towel off your body that’s now completely dry. “Let’s start off with something easy,” you carefully suggest, traveling your hands down to the band of his gray joggers, lightly tugging them down to reveal his boxer briefs.
The tiny, blond, freckled boy is staring up at you with his big bambi eyes, he can’t believe there’s a naked girl on top of him while he’s still partially fully clothed. All the blood surges to his cock, making him so painfully hard he’s never been so desperate for someone to touch him in his life. Hips bucking into nothing as he humps the air for any stimulation, you couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped your mouth. Finding him to be so utterly pathetic.
You lean in to kiss him again, never quite getting enough of the yummy taste of him. Tracing your index finger over the outline of his bulge, you feel him pulse underneath as you keep teasing him with more light touches. He could feel you smiling into the kiss, biting down on his lower lip as your free hand gets tangled in his platinum locks. You eventually sprung his cock freely out the constraints of his briefs, watching it stick straight up from being so unbelievably hard. His cock was gorgeous, about 6 inches in length and 2.5” thick, his tip was an angry, ruby red but the rest a blush pink color. Your fingers laced around his shaft, getting closer to spit directly on it before giving him a few moderate pumps. Felix threw his head back slightly, gripping the bedsheets in utmost pleasure, whimpering loudly as he ruts his hips to match the movements of your hand. Unable to hold back from just how good you’re making him feel he calls your name out again and again. His deep voice only gets raspier, a beautifully stark contrast to his angelic face being stuck in euphoria. As your pace increases he only gets more vocal, panting heavily while begging to cum as his jaw slacks wide open. Flashes of white invade his vision, everything around him becomes to fade into a blur. That’s when it all gets abruptly ripped away from him, soon as your hand withdraws his cock he opens his eyes again. His lips quivered in devastation, feeling as though he could cry from this.
“W-why’d you stop?” He whines out of frustration, wanting so badly to cum all over your hand.
The sight of him made you so incredibly turned on. Obsessed with the mess you’ve created so far, his flushed, rosy cheeks with drool seeping down his chin, his precum has leaked out everywhere.
You don’t answer, only chuckling at his misery. It’s fun to play with him, see how far you can push him in getting to do whatever you want.
“Want me to suck your cock, hmm? Say pretty please and I’ll make you feel so good.” Never breaking eye contact as you say it, getting off on the fact you have all the control and he’s totally helpless in your hold.
Felix is reluctant to speak at first, but he chokes up the courage to stutter out a plea, “P-pretty please.. Noona please...” lifting his hips just to feel something— you aggressively force them back down with your hand.
A devilish smirk forms across your face, you didn’t know he was the type to call you that. You want to reward him even more but only if he can be good and does everything exactly your way.
“Don’t cum ‘til I say you can. Got it?” You flash a look that’s anything but merciful, getting a rush from this dominant role you happen to take on surprisingly well.
He nods obediently, understanding what the consequences may be if he doesn’t listen. He wants to try his best to please you in any way he can, it’s the least he can do when you’re the one doing most of the work.
Wrapping your lips around his tip, you feel him twitch instantly inside your mouth, opening just a bit to swirl your tongue along his member. His cock feels slightly sore from being edged once before, gasping when he feels the plushness of your lips on him. Sinking further down, you fully take his length in your mouth now, head bobbing up and down to get the entirety of his cock down your throat. Felix couldn’t move, think, let alone breathe properly— he’s so far gone that the only thing consuming his mind is you.
“Like getting your cock sucked baby?” You coo, bringing your hand to gently caress his balls, making him cry out even more.
He only frantically nods in response, too weak and too lost in the feeling to speak, “Mmm…” he mumbles, he’s so close but he can’t cum, he has to resist the urge but it’s so difficult. There’s no way he’s going to be able to keep this up for much longer.
“Use your words Lixie,” suddenly pulling away from his balls, “or else I’m going to stop again.”
He’s back to being whiny again, not wanting to be edged so cruelly like last time, he finally chokes out a reply, “Y-yes.. I love it.”
You really love the way he sounds, you could listen to him like this all day. Back to what you were doing previously, your mouth completely takes him in, lashes fluttering up at him while you’re doing the most unholy act there is. His brain goes fuzzy as he can’t get over how amazing this feels, broken moans escaping his throat from the warmth of your tongue enveloping his cock. Humming around him in response to his constant throbbing, Felix hisses from the vibrations throughout his body. He’s trembling with so many nerves hitting all once, it’s all so new to him; this might just be the most intense feeling he’s ever had.
“Nggh… gonna cum- can’t hold it anymore..” he meekly warns, tears roll down his face as it begins to be too much for him to bear.
You decide to let him this time, feeling a little sense of sympathy for a cutie pie like him. There’s always next time you can edge him and break him down until he babbles and cries even harder. Your core aches just thinking about all the fantasies you’ll bring to life soon, it’ll never be a boring day from now on.
“Go ahead baby, cum in my mouth,” you urge him to finish by going faster, sucking him off like your life depends on it.
He can feel the coil in his stomach tightening, pushing him to the edge as he’s thrashing around the bed, moaning and crying out all types of profanities. The last words he spoke before he came was pure gibberish, too busy focusing on his release shooting out— he lulls his head back into the pillow from exhaustion. He doesn’t think he’s ever came that hard in his entire life. His eyes rolled back as you greedily swallow his cum, still continuing to suck like he wasn’t mewling for you to stop. More of his load comes out as you keep going, milking every last drop of him until he’s all drained out and empty.
Finally letting go of his cock, you pull away as you make a loud ‘pop’ with your mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting you to his crotch.
“You did so good for me Lixie,” you praise sweetly, coming up to kiss his pouty lips after you’d just sucked him dry. He kisses back immediately, getting a taste of his release on your tongue, “c’mere puppy,” you motion him to come along once you pull away.
He’s not sure what you have in mind but he follows anyway, blindly letting you boss him around at this point. Felix enjoys every second of it though, you may have unlocked something he never knew he needed.
Your hands run over his shoulders, “How ‘bout we run you a bath, yeah?” Your voice is as low and gentle as a whisper, sounding as though you didn’t just do those unspeakable things minutes ago. He’s more at ease you’ve turned into a sweeter, more compassionate version of yourself now, “I think my precious baby deserves it.”
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- 完 ︎♡︎
1K notes · View notes
hxltic · 3 months
Note
i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
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You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.
The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.
He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?
Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.
Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.
Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.
“Holy— shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.
It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.
He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.
Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.
You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.
“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.
“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”
He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”
Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.
“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”
Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway— not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open— and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.
While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.
“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down his body as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.
“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”
Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”
“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.
“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”
“They probably already are.”
He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face, but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too. Nothing compared to the sheer size of his thighs though; they had to be the size of your head. Just by photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake.
Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.
You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”
“Right… like all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”
Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with embarrassment that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.
You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”
He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.
“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”
Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a question you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck— the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I— uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.
Of course, to add to the fucking embarrassment, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.
“Is that all you read?”
You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”
He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”
Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.
“N-no,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.
“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”
To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.
This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.
You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.
“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”
Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”
You look him up and down. “So?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.
“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”
You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”
He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.
“Yeah. Yeah— I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.
“Which part were you reading?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway— she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”
Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.
“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”
You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.
“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my cock nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”
You finally halt at the words because he was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”
So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.
You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and come close. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.
This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.
“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”
The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.
“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”
You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.
The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.
“hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.
The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.
He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.
“fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his shoulder for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.
You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.
“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”
You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts. “Again.”
“Y-yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.
How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.
“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”
“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.
“No the fuck you’re not.”
Godammit.
Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.
Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”
“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”
Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.
“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”
He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.
“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.
And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”
You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”
You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.
“No. come here.”
You stare at him dumbfounded.
“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.
“My face, baby.”
Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”
You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.
“Sit.”
“Are you sure?” You clarify.
“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between his eyes. The only thing visible is his damp hair.
Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.
You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.
Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”
You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.
Shakily, you call out “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.
“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.
“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him past your hair.
“Hmphh?”
“I’m close— can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.
To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.
this was kinda rushed
©️hxltic
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Dick loves your plushie collection.
He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.
He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.
So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.
If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc
Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.
You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…
Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(
It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.
Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.
It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.
He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.
Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.
So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.
‘You look perfect.’ -Jason
‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you
‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason
‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.
Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.
‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason
‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you
‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.
‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.
‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.
‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’
You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’
‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.
Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.
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scientia-rex · 24 days
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I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.
I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.
You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)
I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)
Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.
The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.
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princessbellecerise · 11 months
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Your Daddy Did It Better
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | James Barnes Jr, or JJ as the world calls him, doesn’t quite know how to treat a woman. Luckily for you though, his daddy sure does
warnings | smut, age gap (reader is in her 20's), riding, couch sex, light drinking, billionaire!bucky, oral (f. receiving), bucky gives the reader a facial if you know what i mean, 18+ ONLY
this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
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James Steven Barnes was a fucking asshole.
You suspect that he may have gotten that trait from his father, Bucky; but even in the few times you had met the billionaire, he had never acted quite as douchy as his son did.
The Bucky Barnes that you knew and grew up seeing in tabloids was at least respectful after he got done with women, and at least had the decency to tell them that it was over to their face before he moved on.
Unfortunately though, it seemed somewhere along the lines he forgot to pass that trait onto his son, which was precisely the reason you were fuming and stopping your way through Barnes Tower, fists nearly ripping the paper of the magazine due to your death grip.
Anger coursed through your veins as you thought about the front page, which showed your supposed ‘boyfriend’ front and center at a Knick’s game with some model that was way too old for him. But, there was no doubt that she was beautiful.
You couldn’t lie; that was part of the reason you were salty. But the other part was because you had just seen JJ two days ago, and he made no mention to tell you that whatever you guys had was over. Nor that he was already back on the market.
He didn’t even have the decency to send you a text, so, after staring at the picture for a while and slightly crying your eyes out, anger began to replace your sadness and you came up with a plan.
Sure it wasn’t the best of plans, and sure you may be a little out of your mind, barging into the most elite building in New York. But you need to confront him, face-to-face. And since you still had your keycard JJ had given you since he was too lazy to come to your apartment, you marched right on in the tower like it was your own home.
The elevator dinged and your high heels clicked against the polished tiles, your eyes blazing as you made your way across the floor.
The fancy decor that you usually marveled at was the last thing on your mind. You were on a mission, and nothing was going to stop you. Nothing was going to get in the way of you laying into JJ, or possibly throwing the magazine at his head. You were going to make him pay and not even security was going to get in your way, if he called them.
You would only leave this building kicking and screaming, you decided. And if JJ tried to kick you out, well then—
“Oof!”
Your whirlwind of thoughts were suddenly cut off when a figure smacked into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs and almost knocking you over until hands reached out to grab you. They wrapped around your figure and pulled you close so that you wouldn’t hit the floor. Shocked, a gasp left your lips, and you quickly held onto whoever it was, your fingers digging into the expensive material of their suit.
For a moment, you thought that it was JJ that caught you and anger bubbled in your stomach. After all, the tufts of dark-haired you saw were exactly the same shade, and his build felt roughly the same.
But when the person set you back on your feet, it only took you a second to realize that it was not JJ that caught you.
It was his dad.
“Bucky!”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, as did his while you both stared at each other. Not really sure what to do, Bucky let go of you, and he awkwardly cleared his throat while you shuffled back.
“Y/N,” He said, equally shocked. “I wasn’t…expecting you today. Is everything alright?”
His light blue eyes glanced you over and while you didn’t seemed to be dressed in any kind of date attire, he was under the assumption that you were there for JJ. He knew that your relationship with his son was mostly physical, but Bucky still hoped he raised him well enough to at least treat you to a date every once in a while.
“No, no everything is not okay,” Is what you wanted to tell him. “Your son is an absolute asshole.”
The words were so close from falling from your lips, but you held back, pressing them together so you wouldn’t say something you’d regret. It was already bad enough that JJ probably didn’t want you there, you didn’t need his dad trying to kick you out too. So you held it together and tried to make it look like you weren’t crying just a few minutes before, tilting your head away from Bucky and focusing your eyes on the floor as you spoke.
“Everything’s fine,” You said, your voice a little weak but normal nevertheless. “I was just…I was just looking for JJ. Have you seen him?”
Bucky reeled back in surprise once again. “JJ?” He repeated your question and answered before you could even confirm what you said. “No honey, I’m afraid JJ isn’t here. I think he went to see a basketball game or something. I would’ve thought…I did think you were going with him.”
So he didn’t know.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to start crying again as you slowly shook your head.
“We broke up,” You said, unfortunately having to break the news to him. Bucky’s eyes widened. “He…He went to that basketball game with some other chick, and I came here to hopefully confront him. I…”
Wordlessly, you held out the magazine for Bucky to grab, and he did. His blue eyes scanned the paper, eyebrows furrowing together until eventually, anger settled on his face.
He looked at the cover of the magazine and noted that the girl was not, in fact, you. Bucky had never seen her in his life. As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure JJ had never met her either, which made the situation even worse.
He sighed, lowering the magazine to look at you. When he did, that’s when Bucky finally realized that you had started crying, even though you tried your best to hide it from him.
“Oh doll.”
“I’m sorry,” You instinctively tried to move away from him as he reached out, attempting to comfort you. But you just thought he was trying to pity you, shame festering inside of you as you sobbed quietly.
You didn’t want to cry, but seeing how his own father reacted made you think that JJ really was an asshole.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry it’s just—”
“Hey,” Bucky reached out to gently tug you towards him, and somehow you found yourself crying in his arms as he shook his head and wrapped you in his embrace. Your tears stained his Tom Ford suit, your mascara no doubt ruining the expensive fabric. But Bucky didn’t seem to mind as he awkwardly held you close, letting you cry into his chest like many other young ladies had before you. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I know.”
“It’s just that,” You sniffle, pulling away with tears still your cheeks, “It’s just that we were together only just two days ago and I can’t believe he—I can’t believe he just ditched me like that. Like what the fuck man? Who raised you?”
Bucky slightly chuckled as you shook your head, disbelief settling on your face. You wiped your tears, your hands coming back stained but at the moment you didn’t care.
You were heartbroken, and you hated to admit it but you really did like JJ. Despite knowing the type of guy he was rumored to be, you thought you’d just give him a chance. You thought you’d give him an opportunity to prove that everyone was wrong about him. JJ wasn’t an asshole. He was just a typical rich kid that had everything at his disposal. Sure he went through girls quick, but you never once thought he’d dispose of you.
Not like this. Not to the point where you were crying in front of his father as Bucky looked at you sympathetically.
“Welp, not my proudest parenting moment,” He admitted, “But the kid does have his way of charming people. I honestly thought he would use it for good as he got older. You know for like business and stuff? But it seems the more he grows up, the more broken hearts he leaves in his trail.”
“Huh. Well I guess that makes him just like his father then,” You chuckled bitterly through your sniffles, causing Bucky to laugh little bit. The sound took you by surprise, not expecting him to laugh over your dig. But you liked the way it sounded: soft, but mature. Everything that a man should’ve been. Everything that his son should’ve been.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bucky shrugged. “But believe me—I never once raised him to act like this. I wanted him to be better, you know? But I guess eventually, everyone goes down their own path.”
“You should cut him off then,” You quickly suggested, before you could even stop the words coming from your mouth. “If you cut him off, he can’t charm girls anymore and he most certainly won’t be sitting courtside with anymore models.”
You were dead serious, but this—this was what caused Bucky to double over in laughter, clutching his stomach and letting out a hearty, genuine laugh. He shook his head at you, pointing his index finger, and you couldn’t lie, you laughed too. After all, who just goes around telling rich dads to cut off their entitled sons? Not enough people apparently, because there were still a plethora of entitled sons out there.
Bucky may have thought JJ was one, but after losing his mother, he was all he had. You suppose you understood why Bucky kept enabling him in that way, but it still made you no less salty that he got to live the good life while everybody else around him got left in the dust.
“You,” Amusement danced in Bucky’s eyes as he chuckled some more before finally sobering up, pressing his lips. “You’re funny.” He said like it was a compliment. “You…you’ve got a sense a humor, I’ll tell you that sweetheart. Not a lot of girls my son brings home actually have a decent personality.”
“What can I say? It’s probably the reason he ditched me,” You said.
“Probably,” Bucky agreed. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t do well with actual conversation. As a father, it’s a little embarrassing when your son goes for beauty instead of brains and beauty.”
“Oh, is that what you think I have?” You teased him slightly, your mood beginning to pick up a little. Bucky nodded. “Well, you’d think if I was smart, I wouldn’t go after somebody with an obvious track record.”
“Well we can all be dazzled by the charm,” Bucky said, staring intensely. “But you gotta know that eventually, all of that stuff goes away and in a few years time he’ll realize how stupid he was to let you go. Trust me, beauty fades fast and when that’s all you have in common with someone, most relationships tend to not to last long.”
“So what you’re saying is JJ’s gonna break up with the model?” You questioned.
“…Eventually,” Bucky hesitated to say, “But for now, she’s young. So he’s gonna be all over her like white on rice.”
“Bucky! What the fuck— you are not helping!”
Instinctively, you reached out to shove his shoulder which caused Bucky to be even more surprised. But he could see the smile tugging at your lips, hear the playfulness in your voice as you said this, so he laughed even harder.
He appreciated someone joking around with him without being all cautious about his titles. Bucky didn’t know what it was, but something about the way you seemed to just relax around him made him happy. It made him inch forward, taking a cautious step while you watched him.
“Oh yeah?” He challenged quietly, and you never took your eyes off of him as he stepped as close as he could. “Well then do tell me Miss L/N,” Bucky copied your playfulness, “What would help you get over my son?”
The tone of his voice made you shiver slightly, as did the closeness of his body. You just now realized it, but Bucky’s eyes were awfully brown, so dark that you found yourself almost getting lost in them. You felt like your world was swirling as you looked inside of those mischievous brown eyes, but yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away.
Daring to be bold, you stepped closer, and Bucky was nearly on the floor when suddenly you crained your head up, put your lips straight to his ear and whispered,
“How about a drink, Mr. Barnes?”
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“And then I said: I thought you were smaller!”
You laugh loudly as Bucky very proudly told you the story of how he reunited with his best friend Steve, the man JJ had also been named after. It was sort of a sad story, but you didn’t know that because Bucky left out all the bad parts. He just wanted to make you laugh and was just glad to see that you were entertained nonetheless.
It was a stark contrast to the way you had shown up on his doorstep only an hour ago. Now, your tears were replaced by laughter, your frown with a large grin, and there were no longer any traces of anger on your face. You were only content as you sipped on your drink, playing into all the jokes and shenanigans Bucky had presented you with.
Honestly, hanging out with him had been pretty fun and you had no fucking clue how it all started but you weren’t complaining as you downed your drink. This was your first one, so you weren’t even tipsy, just relaxed enough to have a good time. It also helped push away the feeling that maybe hanging out with your ex’s father wasn’t such a good idea.
Nonsense though, your brain had told you multiple times, because Bucky was funny, charming and most importantly: he was nothing like his son.
As he entertained you, you began to see less and less how JJ could even be related to a man like this. A man so confident and hilarious, and just so sure of himself. It was like every move Bucky made, he made with a purpose. He did it because he knew exactly the reaction he would get from someone. He was so perceptive, and he picked up that you needed cheering up, so he kept making a fool out of himself just to make you laugh.
And honestly, you were beginning to question why you ever wasted your time on JJ in the first place. When clearly, you had chosen the wrong Barnes.
The thought had struck you several times in the last hour, but you never once entertained it, refusing to give your brain that satisfaction. You told yourself that Bucky was just being nice inviting you for a drink. That he just felt bad and didn’t want you stumbling home angry and sad.
You told yourself that it was better for him that you didn’t come looking for his son again. But…a part of you wanted to believe there were other reasons.
It only made heart your pound faster as he began to speak again.
“Man. I swear I can never get enough of telling that story,” He said cheekily, leaning back on his fancy sofa. The suit that he was wearing crinkled, and the scotch in his hand swirled before he took a sip of it.
You admired him.
You admired anybody that could drink straight liquor, because Lord knows you couldn’t. Lord knows not even his own son could, which made you snort at the thought.
“Well, it is a wonderful story Mr. Barnes,” You told him, swirling your own drink. “I’m sure it was even better to witness all those years ago.”
“Oh, come on now darling. Don’t make it seem like I’m a fossil,” Bucky waved you off, and you couldn’t deny the way your stomach fluttered at the nickname. It made you feel something that you hadn’t felt before; an emotion that you desperately wanted to push down but was rising the more time you spent with Bucky.
Desire was beginning to creep into your veins, and it didn’t help that you had certainly took notice of just how handsome Mr. Barnes was, and just how good that three-piece suit clung to his body. You began to wonder things that you should most definitely not be wondering. But still, it was like your brain produced the thoughts on its own and you couldn’t help but think that Bucky looked sexy all relaxed like that.
You curled your lips, and you knew you were beginning to get yourself into trouble. You sipped your drink once again.
“Oh, trust me. The last thing I’m calling you is old Mr. Barnes,” You retorted kindly. Bucky looked up as a smirk began to form on your cheeks. “In fact, you’re probably one of the youngest people I know in spirit, most definitely. It seems that even though the years have passed, they haven’t yet caught up with you. And well, you’re pretty spry for an older fella.”
You batted your lashes at him, causing Bucky to sputter a little bit. A mischievous look grew in your eyes, and when you winked at him something began to stir inside of him.
Perhaps it was your humor, or the way you knew just when to be sarcastic and when to be genuine, just like him. Maybe it was that that drew him towards you, making Bucky sit up a little bit as he studied you.
With blue eyes observing everything, Bucky noted that you were young, yes, but you certainly weren’t new to the world, nor ignorant of it. From what you had told him, you were in grad school and had experienced heartbreak and failure. And though you weren’t nearly as old or mature as he was, Bucky could sense that you definitely were years above your own peers.
Years above his own son, which Bucky began to question if he really was his son, if he had passed up a woman like this.
A woman so easy to get along with that he didn’t even notice it was beginning to approach two hours since you had been there.
“Spry?” Bucky rose an eyebrow and chose to ignore the thought that you might need to go home soon. Nodding your head, Bucky laughed at your words.
“Oh very spry indeed Mr. Barnes. In fact, I bet you could run me and outlive me,” You giggled.
“Well…” Bucky pretended to be in thought before carefully shoving off his blazer, flexing his biceps which made the most unholy of thoughts come into your mind. “I suppose I do lift a little on the side. Mostly when I’m not busy with meetings, but I mean the biceps speak for themselves, don’t they?”
“I suppose they do.” You sipped on your wine so that Bucky couldn’t see how bothered you had gotten. Your legs crossed, your body language beginning to change. Something stirred in the pit of your stomach, causing you to shift slightly.
You could still see his biceps peeking out from under his shirt even with him not flexing. It made your mouth just the tiniest bit dry as Bucky looked at you.
He didn’t want you to go home, but he knew that it was entering the odd hours of the morning and the last thing he needed was paparazzi photographing a young woman leaving his tower this late. Not to mention a young woman that had been seen with this son. Oh, Bucky realized the scandal it would cause and decided he was way past those days.
So, a plan began to form in his mind.
Maybe you didn’t have to leave, he told himself. Maybe…maybe you could stay after all. He thought about this, and then before he could stop himself, Bucky began to speak.
“You know…it’s getting kind of late.” He tried to sound as casual as possible without his words sounding rehearsed. Immediately, you perked up, worrying that he may kick you out. But luckily, it was just the opposite. “I know JJ once told me you lived a little ways out of town. A far walk I imagine; and getting an Uber probably won’t be easy. I’m sure you know this by now, but this tower has a lot of rooms. Why don’t you take one for the night and rest up here? You can leave first thing in the morning but I’d just hate to see a young lady be out on the streets of New York by herself.”
At this, you couldn’t stop the smile that made its way over your face, nor the laugh of delight as you found yourself eagerly accepting Bucky’s proposal.
“Yes. I think that sounds fair. Thank you, Mr. Barnes. For being so kind.”
“Yeah.”
Was that what it was? Bucky truly being kind, or was he only letting you stay for his own selfish intentions?
Probably both honestly. But truly, Bucky knew he wasn’t a bad enough person to expect you to do anything for him in return. His thoughts may have been running wild, but he wasn’t so bad as to bribe a young girl like that. Not that he had to, because you were already halfway on that road before you even stood up.
When you did though, you were suddenly reminded of how long it had been since you had drank and you couldn’t stop the woozy feeling in your head as you set the glass down. Bucky caught you once again before you hit the floor, your nausea causing you to trip over the expensive carpet. You landed in his arms almost like a fairytale. Your eyes met his, and you could see the worry that spread in them.
“Are you all right?” He asked.
It was a simple question. So, so simple that you should’ve just been able to answer with ‘yes’ and been done with it. You should’ve been, but somehow you just couldn’t. Somehow all the decency and all the warning bells that told you this was not a good idea suddenly left your mind. All of a sudden, you were lucid but you didn’t even feel like it as you leaned up and did something you never in a million years thought you would’ve done.
You kissed Bucky.
You don’t know what the hell got into you. Truly, you didn’t. You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, sheer stupidity, or just a fuck-this-I’m-going-for-it mentality. But whatever it was, it had you kissing Bucky Barnes like it was your last day on this earth, your head spinning from how hard you pressed your lips to his.
Your lips were on his, and honestly it took Bucky more time than he’d like to admit to do something about it. At first, he just stood there a little bit confused. He didn’t register that you were kissing him until you tried to move your mouth and he just…stood still. He didn’t register that you…that you wanted him until you suddenly pulled away with slight panic on your face.
“Oh my God,” You said in realization, “Bucky I’m so—”
Bucky didn’t even let you finish the sentence, because the fuck-it mentality embraced him too and suddenly you were both carefree as you swapped spit.
Bucky had his mouth on yours, and you were kissing him with so much passion and oh my God you were so young and this was so wrong but the man couldn’t find it in himself to stop.
Despite everything in his brain telling him that this was a bad idea, his body simply would not allow him to listen, too engrossed by the feeling of your soft lips.
Cherry Chapstick—that’s what you had been wearing. But Bucky was sure that by the time he was done with you, that taste would be nothing but a fleeting memory. He pressed his tongue out to try to get some more of it, and that’s when his tongue started to slip into your mouth. Gasping, you let him in and that’s when your bodies began to fall back onto the couch.
Bucky landed first with a small grunt, and with this new sitting position you were able to straddle his lap and hook your legs on either side of him.
Bucky’s arms then came to wrap around your waist, wasting no time to explore your body—regrettably through your clothes. You had been wearing a simple skirt and top, but even that felt like too much as Bucky suddenly became desperate to get underneath them.
A hot desire developed over you both, and you couldn’t stop yourself from suddenly breaking the kiss, putting your hands on his nice blazer, and tearing it off with ease. You threw it somewhere in the corner that you didn’t quite care about, looking at Bucky for only a second before devouring his lips once again.
He tasted like scotch and cigars, the pinnacle of maturity in your opinion. He was so experienced and the thought of all the things he could show you, all the ways he could make you feel suddenly made you groan and start to grind on his lap.
Bucky panted into your mouth as he felt your warm heat moving against him, the perfectly tailored pants suddenly feeling too tight as his erection grew bigger.
You were greedy as you drank him in, like Bucky was the sweetest nectar you had ever tasted. And now that you had gotten a sample, you couldn’t get enough.
You were insatiable as you eventually managed to get his button down shirt off, feeling him slip his own hands under your clothes.
He felt your soft, hot skin and squeezed, liking the way you jumped in his arms. He never once broke the kiss, liking the taste of your mouth far too much. But that didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t explore other areas with his hands, and before you knew it, he had his hands touching all over your body and leaving fire in its wake.
You wiggled a little bit as Bucky traveled lower and lower, eventually jumping again when he made contact with your cotton panties.
Bucky smiled into your mouth, satisfaction flooding his veins when he noticed your arousal had already dampened them.
Slowly, you began to grind a little bit on his hand and Bucky groaned as the sensation of it all made him feel like he was burning up. He felt like if he didn’t do something now, he would literally burst into flames. So, as much as he loved the taste of your mouth, he decided he needed something more than that.
Pulling away from you, a trail of spit dribbled down your chin and coated the frown that you were now sporting. You didn’t wanna pull away from him, but Bucky reassured you with his eyes that what he had planned was much better.
He tapped on your thighs and pushed on your chest a little bit, letting you know that he wanted you to lay down.
Excitement flooded your veins as your back suddenly hit the couch, your shirt pulled almost all the way up and your skirt flipped.
Bucky could see nothing but your stomach and your cotton covered pussy, choosing these two things to focus on as he got on his knees on the couch.
He hovered over you, and at first, you thought he was going to kiss you again until suddenly, his head dipped down. You moaned as his hands begin to massage your breasts, the feeling of his touch driving you crazy. Even though it was only through your clothes, you began to squirm; pushing down on his hips with your foot so that Bucky quickly got the message.
“Wow. Eager are we?” He smirked, and the whine that you let out went away as quickly as it came, when Bucky suddenly yanked your bra down.
You were sure that the front straps had broken, but that was the last thing you cared about. You were only focused on his plump lips that were headed towards your breast. And sure enough, Bucky finally made the first contact with your body when he wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud. Th action caused you to moan out, quickly running your fingers through his hair as he licked, sucked, circled the bud with his tongue.
Skilled he was, because you swore you had never gotten this much pleasure from a man sucking on your tits. Sure many had tried, but it never felt like this. It never felt like actual pleasure until now, Bucky’s tongue working miracles.
Honestly, it made you wonder just what else he could do. And as if he could read your mind, Bucky suddenly abandoned your nipples and trailed his mouth further down your body. At first, you wanted to protest at the lack of stimulation. But the feeling was quickly replaced when Bucky got rid of your panties in one swift pull. He looked you in the eye, and you could see his smirk as he took in your pouty lips, the way your chest heaved and the way your eyes got wide. He took in how fucking gorgeous you looked but man — he bet you sounded even better.
It was this thought that lead Bucky to finally dip his head where you needed him to be; you letting out the sweetest of moans as his lips attached to your clit.
Bucky pleasured you in a way that most boys your age refused to even consider. They never seemed to consider what women actually wanted, but Bucky knew. And damn, did he know it well.
He took your clit in between his teeth and gently grazed over it, teasing you and enjoying the way your hips bucked against him. He had to hold you down before he really got started on you, and when he did, and there was nobody on this earth that could convince Bucky that what the two of you were doing was wrong.
So what if you had dated his son. His son was stupid; even Bucky could see that now.
JJ was beyond stupid to pass up this gorgeous woman, who tasted just as sweet as she looked. Who tasted so fucking good that Bucky lapped and sucked up every little dribble of arousal that you had. He sucked on your clit and even began to use his fingers, absolutely determined to taste you and your entirety. Nothing in life had ever enticed Bucky more, except for maybe the sounds that you were making.
Man, did you sound absolutely gorgeous as you wiggled and thrashed, but never quite fully pulled away from his pleasure. Man, did you look so sexy with your head thrown back, eyes closed, and lips parted. Bucky swore he never saw a better site in his life, which egged him to pump his fingers even faster. He was determined, determined to make you cum on his tongue and determined to show you that this was how a real man pleasured a woman. A real man always put her satisfaction before his, which was why Bucky wasn’t even gonna fuck you until you had came at least once.
And fuck—did you.
You swear you had never screamed louder in your life, your body shaking as you came all over Bucky’s expensive suit and couch. You were crying out from the almost abusive pleasure, but not once did Bucky remove his mouth from your pussy. Not until he was sure he had gotten every last drop.
He wanted to taste everything that he could. Every little part of you; and when he succeeded at that he then wanted you to taste yourself.
He wanted for you to know how sweet and absolutely incredible you were.
He brought his mouth back up to latch his lips on yours, and it wasn’t long before your tongue was tangled with his. Bucky got what he wanted when you suddenly squeaked, surprised at how you tasted. It was indeed sweet—thanks to you prioritizing fruit in your diet. Bucky almost chuckled at the way your eyes flew open, but he was too busy breaking the quick kiss to pull down the last bit of clothing that separated the two of you.
It seemed like he couldn’t get those damn panties off fast enough—you giggling and offering to help when he cursed more than enough times.
Bucky leaned over you and, while you worked on your underwear, he began to focus on his own. He unbuckled his belt, yanked down his pants, and freed himself from the torture that was that damn suit.
Now that you were both naked, you eyed his erection deliciously as you both suddenly set up.
It wasn’t like you were a virgin, so you both silently agreed there was no need to take it easy in missionary. So, you got on top of Bucky and hooked your legs over his once again.
A silent glance was shared between the two of you just moments before you sank down on Bucky’s cock, pressing your hips until there was nothing left out except his balls. They pressed against your ass and reminded you of how deep he truly was, how absolutely delicious it felt to have him sheathed inside of you.
Bucky let out a sigh of content, and it wasn’t long before you had him moaning, standing on your toes and lightly bouncing yourself on his cock.
Fuck—you sure did know how to make a man come quick, seeing as you were currently squeezing the dear life out of Bucky. He could barely keep it together as your walls sucked him in, it having been a while since he fucked somebody this tight.
But tight you were, and young—though he’d never guess it by the way you rode him like a pro. You swirled your hips, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself and then kept bouncing. Up and down your tits went, mesmerizing Bucky almost as much as your pussy did.
You yourself were just enticing, if there ever was a word for it.
Bucky wasn’t quite sure how he’d let you go after this, or if he even wanted to. The feeling of you wrapped around him was definitely something he could get used to, so he tried not to think about that and focused on the present.
He focused on the way you moaned and clenched around him. On the way your pussy squelched every time you bounced yourself up on your feet. He focused on your eyes, staring at him intensely, and then your lips as he leaned in to capture them.
Due to his swift kiss, you had lost your pace, but that was all right because Bucky decided to take over then. He held you close, and then he bucked his hips upwards, fucking into you at a rapid pace. You moaned into his mouth, and Bucky could feel your ass jiggling, your tits bouncing as he pounded into you. He could feel the way your stomach was beginning to clench again, a telling sign of yet another orgasm.
He smirked, satisfied when you started to grip him for dear life. Not even a few seconds later, you did, in fact, cream all over him with a small cry.
The mess on his couch and on his thighs was inevitable, but as Bucky reached his own high, he thought it best not to dirty up his furniture anymore.
Instead, as the pit in his stomach finally grew to its peak, he suddenly pulled out of you and got you on your knees, cumming on your face right as you opened your mouth.
Eagerly, you let the hot ropes paint your face and even swallowed some with a grin on your lips. You couldn’t open your eyes to see the pleasure that you had caused Bucky, but you could hear him groaning, the sound of him jacking off invading your ears until there was nothing else left to decorate your face.
He smiled in satisfaction, loving the way that you had been the one to bring him to his wits end and it wasn’t long before you could see Bucky again.
He retrieved his extremely expensive shirt and used it to wipe off your face, you giving him a giggle as your vision became clearer. You stuck out your tongue, showing him evidence that you had swallowed the bit of cum that had gotten on your lips.
Bucky chuckled, and it was at that moment he realized that yes, his son was an idiot for letting you go.
He’d be damned if he made the same mistake.
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BONUS
You made your way into your chemistry class, not even bothered by JJ’s presence as you passed him. In fact, the last thing you were thinking of was that Barnes, seeing as the remnants of his father still lingered just underneath your shirt.
Had it been any more see-through, you would’ve had a reason to be extremely smug as JJ made his way over to you with his friends snickering in the background.
You knew they were talking about you, but you barely paid attention to any of them until suddenly, the youngest Barnes was standing beside you with his arms crossed.
“Yes?”
You looked up at him, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say he was annoyed by your lack of reaction. Your indifference towards him and the model situation clearly bothered him, which made you wanna smirk but you didn’t.
“Well you certainly don’t look bothered,” He commented, casually leaning against your desk. You rolled your eyes, but you weren’t too irritated until he began tapping his pencil on your table.
“Well that’s because I had a pretty good weekend — besides the fact that you ditched me,” You snapped, trying to push him away.
But JJ didn’t budge.
It was then that you remembered he was every bit as stubborn as his father was, despite being less than half the man Bucky was.
“Oops,” A sarcastic smile ghosted on JJ’s face. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to be ashamed of what he did. “I just got caught up you know; business and such.”
“Business.” You pondered on this word before you slowly turned to look at him, confidently being able to stare into his brown eyes. After all, you had found yourself growing fonder and fonder of that shade, just not on him. “That’s interesting. I didn’t know business meant going on a date with a model.”
“Super model,” He made sure to correct you, “And well, you know how it is these days. I’m a Rolling Stone; just like my daddy I hear.”
God bless him, he sounded so proud and it took everything in you not to tell him right then and there. It took every particle of self-restraint you had not to scream out to the entire university that you had fucked his dad, cause you were no longer in the mood for JJ’s childish games.
But instead — thinking of Bucky — you restrained yourself and simply offered JJ a smile.
“Well, the way I hear it, your daddy did it better,” You winked at him, and suddenly nothing in the world could seemed to bother you anymore. Knowing that you had completed the ultimate form of revenge and gained yourself a new suitor in the process put you at peace.
But unfortunately for JJ, you were just getting started.
Just you wait, asswipe. I’ll be your step mama soon enough, you thought devilishly, your phone buzzing just as the boy made his way back to his seat.
Bucky Barnes
Hey honey, you free tonight?
3K notes · View notes
sunshineastro · 11 days
Text
gets up on my soapbox. someone might have said this before but i need to say it anyways.
THE REASON EVERYONE IN SCUM VILLAIN IS IN LOVE WITH SHEN QINGQIU IS BECAUSE HE. SHOWS. KINDNESS. nobody else in the story really shows kindness until he starts teaching it to them. kindness is never rewarded in the world of PIDW. it’s not just luo binghe who had a bad childhood and grew up fucked up. PIDW is a story about plotting and scheming and bad people doing bad things, and when a genuine kind person who doesn’t have a single ulterior motive shows up, it changes not just binghe’s path, but everyone’s. the only truly kind person in PIDW was YQY, and we know what happened to him.
i mean, if you think about the male power fantasy genre, it’s very alpha wolf loner every man for himself type stuff. shen yuan is probably the first person any of the people around him have ever seen pick up a friendship without the active intention of screwing it over somewhere down the line. in fact, he goes out of his way to make friends with people, and not just because of their power or abilities.
it’s no wonder that he improved the lives of everyone around him, and not just binghe.
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luveline · 1 month
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could I get some miguel aftercare pls 🙏🙏🙏
cw suggestive content mdni !! I actually loved writing this it was the highlight of my day, thank you for requesting. fem, 1k
“You’re doing that thing,” Miguel says. 
You’re breathless where he’s fine, voice lost as you ask, “What thing?” 
He smooths his hands across either side of your face briefly. “Locking up. Relax, sweetheart. Catch your breath.” 
You cover your face with your hands but end up too hot, the back of your neck wet with sweat and your face glowing with heat. Miguel laughs softly, blowing cool air up and down your face where he lays beside you. 
He’d usually call you cariño or some other pet name in his native tongue, so sweetheart is out of the blue but no less affectionate. You close your eyes against his cold breath and slouch toward him, where you’re quickly held in his arms again, his voice quieter as he asks, “You okay?” 
“Mm.”
“Yeah?” He works the soft cup of your bra back down over your chest, pressing a kiss to the hill of your breast. “You sure?” he asks, your skin warmed by his breath. 
You curl down around him, trying to keep him there, your face in his hair and your knee sliding up his thigh as you turn onto your side. 
You’re hot all over and aching, but not unhappy. You walk a careful path up his chest and shoulder to his neck, your fingers brushing over the soft surface of his skin one centimetre at a time, not dragging, just touching, searching for his face. You hold his cheek in your hand and kiss his hair, not caring if it’s slightly ineffectual. He’ll know what you’re trying to convey either way. 
Sex with Miguel nearly always leaves you like this. More than satisfied, desperate to be hugged, and desperate to impress upon him how much he means to you if the sex hadn’t already. Your hand moves with him as he lifts his head to yours, eyes aligned, the familiar hint of a smile playing on his lips. 
“You want me to open a window?” 
“I love you,” you say, because what you want is reassurance that it felt the same for him. 
His voice is velvet. “I love you. Te adoro. When I look at you… me dejas sin aliento.”
“Tell me,” you mumble. 
“I can’t breathe.” 
You tip your head back with a laugh, “That’s ironic,” you say. 
He chases you there, his nose down the curve of your throat and his hands pressing behind your back, wrapping you in, hugging you and kissing under your ear, bridging the gap again. It’s weird to be so together, to feel like one person and to have that end, but he hugs you and it’s nearly the same. It’s a different kind of connection. It eases your heart, calms your hot flush. 
“You are beautiful,” he affirms. “I just have better stamina.” 
“Don’t say stamina.” 
“You’re jealous of my stamina, and that’s okay.” He smiles into your neck before kissing it tenderly. 
Moments of this Miguel are rare. He’s so happy, you only get to see him as uninhibited in moments of intense connection, though that can be anything with him. A teasing remark as he helps you up the short step of the tram or a shared smile when you lean back into his chest for no reason at all, knowing he’ll take your weight. 
You savour it. He’s got a good heart. 
And a great physique. “Doesn’t count. You got it all from a bottle.” 
His lips part. “Oh?” he says, the slight scratch of his teeth sending shivers down your arms. 
His lips close in a soft, soft kiss. Miguel pulls away from you to sit up a touch, and then he’s caressing your hip and your knee like he can sense the ache, his face pensive. “Do you want to shower, or should I bring you a towel?” 
“Whatever you want to do.” 
“I want to take care of you,” he says earnestly, hand back up, resting on the strip of fat between hip and ass. “But…” 
You look at him. Unbeknownst to you, Miguel’s taking you in, and thinking you might be the most lovely thing he’s ever seen, not just because he’s fucked you and you took it beautifully, or the sounds you made, or the feeling of your arm wrapped behind his head as you kissed him, but everything about you. He loves you and you know that, but he can’t convey it right. And he thinks if he cleans you up he might spend an hour just looking at you, because you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen, all your marks and wrinkles and softness. He’d lose half the night. 
“You want to fuck me again?” you ask gently. 
“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he denies, leaning down over you. You close your eyes and allow him another kiss. “It’s late, we can’t stay up all night. You’re tired.” 
You hum regretfully. “Yes.” 
“Was it everything you wanted?” he asks. “I can…” His hand trails down to your stomach. 
You laugh under your breath. “I don’t think I can anymore,” you mumble, half flirtation and half aching fondness. “Thank you.” 
“Thank you?” He brings his hand up and squeezes your face, taking another kiss, so many now you can’t count them. 
You smile into his mouth. You’re thinking thank you for being caring enough to think about it, and he’s thinking you’re crazy for not expecting it. Regardless, he doesn’t touch any lower, only dropping his hand and rubbing a sweeping, soothing line over your tummy and your side. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers. 
You peek at him through threaded lashes. “Your eyes are closed,” you whisper back. 
“I knew before I closed them, and I know it now.” He sighs. “Sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek, “forgive me. I’ll get a towel.” 
“It’s my fault, being so enchanting n’ all.” 
Miguel kisses you again. “Exactly.” 
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judasofsuburbia · 1 year
Text
something something middle school steve trying to form a crush on somebody because it seems like everybody has crushes. he tries some girls in his grade but loses interest quickly for silly reasons.
then, at lunch, he sees a girl with long brown curly hair and forehead bangs in a leather jacket, head ducked and legs pulled up to her chest. she must be an eighth grader because steve’s never seen her before. she’s headbanging to the music coming out of her headphones and is sitting all by herself. she doesn’t dress like girls in his grade. she’s rougher, edgier. steve likes this. it makes his stomach swoop.
she’s way across the cafeteria so he can’t make out a lot of her features but he decides leather girl is his new crush.
he never points her out to his friends. he wants to keep her to himself. doesn’t want tommy or anybody else sweeping her up.
not that he actually makes any moves to talk to her. no, instead, he stares from across the cafeteria every day and tries to figure out something new about her.
steve thinks it’s funny the way she picks the skin off her apple slices, eats the skin, and then eats the slice.
she usually gets two milks bc she pockets one of them. a bad girl, steve thinks giddily. she always waits until the bell rings to chug both of them which is odd but entertaining.
she has pins on her jacket that steve assumes are bands. no other girls really talk about bands outside of the beatles. leather girl doesn’t scream beatles fan to steve. he wonders if they like any of the same bands.
he makes up little scenarios in his head of walking up there and handing her a mixtape and the two of them sitting very close so they can both listen out of her headphones.
he throws away notes he writes her because they all sound lame. he also doesn’t know where her locker is. or what her homeroom is to send her candy grams on holidays. or even her name.
this all proves to be a challenge. so he gets comfortable with just admiring her from afar.
one day, he’s seating himself at the table with tommy and them when he hears boys from the football team shouting things like “finally, the freak got rid of the stupid hair!” and “how’s that breeze feel, munson? finally feel like a man?”
steve whips his head around to see the boys towering over leather girl’s table. only…it’s not leather girl. or, it is but all of her hair is gone. buzzed to her scalp. there are tears running down her face and steve realizes his mistake.
he wasn’t crushing on a mysterious eighth grade girl. no, he was crushing on eddie munson.
whom he’d never actually seen but heard a lot of nasty things about.
his stomach feels like it drops to the floor. he can no longer hear the ridicule or general noise of the cafeteria because his ears are ringing. he finally had a crush and he still messed it up. steve felt shame riddle through his body so he abruptly got up and went to the boy’s bathroom for the rest of lunch.
as the bell rang, steve couldn’t get himself to move from the stall he was hiding in. he knows he would get in trouble if one of the hall monitors found him but his body remains frozen. the door opens and steve holds his breath. steve sees white sneakers underneath the door and immediately, he knows it’s leather girl…no, fuck. it’s eddie.
eddie is stomping around, grumbling about his stupid dad and how he looks ugly now, obviously not realizing there is another person in the bathroom. steve hears sniffles and his heart breaks. tentatively, steve gets up and opens the stall door. eddie jumps and clutches the sink behind him.
his eyes are brown, steve thinks. and really pretty.
“jesus, kid, shouldn’t you be in class?” eddie rasps.
“shouldn’t you?” steve retorts, defensively.
“touche,” eddie deadpans. he wipes his tears furiously and sticks his head into the sink to splash water onto his face. steve observes quietly, finally seeing all the features he’s been staring at for months in full detail.
eddie pats his face down with a paper towel and notices steve is still there.
“do you want something?” eddie seethes.
steve chews on the inside of his cheek. he knows he can’t be crushing on a boy. still, even without the beautiful curls, eddie makes his heartbeat faster. he’s still so beautiful. he doesn’t want to go to class anymore.
“have you ever been to the football bleachers?” steve asks.
eddie narrows his eyes. “uh yeah, who hasn’t?”
steve stands up a little taller and tries again. “no, like, the concession stand. when there’s not a game going on.”
“no…” eddie gestures for steve to get to his point.
“i know how to get inside. there are snacks and sodas in there. they never notice a couple missing,” steve smiles as he feels more rebellious sharing this information. “i don’t know if you wanna…”
eddie raises an amused eyebrow. “play hookey?”
steve nods excitedly. he loves the way eddie grins in response.
“lead the way, kid.”
and if steve’s first kiss is a few weeks later by a pair of clumsy, sour candy tasting lips, he’ll never tell.
and if steve gets caught that day and gets detention through the end of the school year, it’s totally worth it.
because eddie is right there with him. crushing on him too.
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cupid-styles · 3 months
Text
the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)
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in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).
I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))
word count: 1.8k
content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)
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. . .
When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.
What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”
So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.
She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”
Easy enough, right?
But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 
But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 
She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.
“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”
Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”
She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.
Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”
Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.
With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.
. . .
“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”
She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 
“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”
She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 
She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 
Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”
Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”
“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”
He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”
She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 
“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”
“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”
“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”
“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 
It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 
“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 
“Can you shut the door?” 
Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”
“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”
“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”
Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.
“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 
“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”
“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”
Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.
“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”
“That’s awful for you, Harry.”
He shoots her an angry look. 
“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”
“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”
Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.
“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”
Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”
She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”
He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”
She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 
“What?” 
“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 
“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 
“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 
She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 
“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”
Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”
It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”
He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 
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