#i saw like no change in the progress bar :)

[tojisun]

currently obsessed with biker!simon!!!! how do you think he and reader met? i think, whatever the situation was, he was the one that couldn't get his eyes off her and started to bluntly stare??? maybe soap was with him and laughed bc he had never saw him get this serious about any girl he had laid his eyes on 😫😫😫😫

BAE I WENT FERAL WHEN I READ THIS BECAUSE YEAH!!! YEAH

ok so this is gonna be ridiculous but bear with me because im actually so obsessed with biker!simon im unwell

simon prefers using his bike whenever he’s out with his friends. there’s no use taking his car, anyway. not with kyle hitching a ride with john, and johnny taking his own car on the few occasions that he does bring someone home with him.

simon’s never had to take those things into account because he preferred a quiet end to his nights, anyway. just a shot of bourbon and a short dinner with his friends, and then he’s back on the road and on his way home.

so he’s never had regrets with taking his bike. until today, of course.

he’s noticed you since you walked into the bar with your friends, your arm hooked around one of them and your head tilted to hear them better. the others who are not engaged in a discussion with you whipped their heads around to find an empty booth and simon almost crushed his glass at the way his heart leapt when he realized that the closest empty booth in the place was the one directly beside his group’s. 

simon watched as your group moved closer, the chatter finally piercing his ears and, unconsciously, his body turned to hear you better. from in front of him, johnny’s pinched lips finally wobbled as he wheezed out a laugh, breaking simon’s focus.

“what?” simon barked out, feeling warmth creep up from his neck to his ears, half of his mind focused on the group settling behind him. 

“holy shit,” johnny said mid-laughter. “you don’t know anythin’ about subtlety.”

simon grumbled then, in denial, but now he just fully stopped caring.

somehow, as the night progressed, simon gravitated towards the seat facing yours, a spot where he had a clear vantage view of you. he’s taken advantage of the change in seating, devouring the sight you make as you giggled with your friends. devouring the change in atmosphere, now that you’ve begun to return his heated looks.

it started with curious looks, born from your friend whispering to you how simon was staring; how, throughout the night, he did not entertain all those who went up beside him and focused only on you. then your gaze shifted into something scalding. something that sent liquid fire warming simon from the pit of his stomach to the back of his spine.

mactavish sighs beside him. “just buy the lass a drink already.”

simon peels his eyes away from you to look at johnny, mulling over the suggestion before grunting out a thanks. he stands up and walks to the bar, calling out to get the bartender’s attention.

remembering the bellini that you’ve been nursing since you got here, simon asks for another flute of the cocktail and requests that it be served to you. he turns when he says this, hoping to give the bartender a clear view of who the bellini is for only to blink in surprise when he sees you standing just a few feet away from him.

“sir?” the man behind the counter asks.

“sorry. just serve it here,” simon replies, his eyes still on you. there is shuffling behind him, the bartender probably leaving to whip up his order, but simon honestly doesn’t care anymore.

not when you finally shuffle close, a shy smile dancing on your lips.

“hello,” you greet, voice a hesitant whisper, and simon feels like he’s been gutted.

you’re so goddamn beautiful, it’s catastrophic. 

simon thinks of how short you are, something he’s first noticed the moment you walked into the bar. it’s not like he’s surprised by the realization given that he tends to tower over anyone ever since he hit his growth spurt, but there is something unfurling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes how perfectly you fit in his arms. how easy it would be to just tuck you underneath his chin and slot himself around you. 

“hey,” he finally replies, his eyes roving along your features, trying to memorize the shimmer of your lips. the long wisps of your lashes. “‘m simon.”

you giggle, introducing yourself shyly, and the sound of your laughter tickles his ears, making him weak to his knees. he mouths your name, testing it out for himself and preening when it rolls off his tongue with ease. like your name is something simon is supposed to always call. 

his new favourite word.

“sorry,” you say, lifting your hand like you want to reach out and touch him, only for you to snuff out the action in your anxiousness. “i don’t, uh, come up to people i find attractive so this is really making me nervous.”

simon is aware of how good he looks – he’s proud of it even – but there is something about a pretty darling like you admitting how his looks make you nervous that sparks the desire in him to transform into something more carnal.

something more visceral.

he reaches his hand out toward you, inviting you to finally close the remaining distance between you two, and smiles when you take the offer, placing your hand on top of his palm, sending goosebumps to rise across his skin. you step into his space and simon has to stop himself from breathing you in, afraid how he’ll end up reacting when he’s taken a whiff of your intoxicating scent. 

“i’ve ordered you a drink,” simon whispers, his voice a hoarse croak.

“oh,” you mumble. “thank you...”

he notes the hesitation in your words, the bubble in his chest popping as his worry extinguishes his burning desire. “you don’t have to drink it.”

“no!” 

he startles at your reaction, his wide eyes staring back at your equally shocked ones. 

it takes a heartbeat before the two of you are breaking off into choked laughter, your body angled to muffle your giggles on the sleeves of his sweater. simon’s heart clenches at the cute display and he curls his arms around you, pulling you close until your head is pressed on his chest.

he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

it takes a while for the laughter to fizzle out, leaving you putty in his arms, your chin digging into his chest as you gaze up at him. simon eagerly returns your stare, his lips stretched into the softest of smiles now that he has you in his arms. he brushes your hair away from your face, warmth exploding in his chest at your happy little sigh.

“wanna leave this place with you,” you tell him and simon trembles with need. 

because he wants you to come home with him too. wants to show you how a sweetheart like you deserves to be treated. how you deserve to be cherished and pampered and revered. 

then, he remembers his goddamn harley. 

fuck. 

wait. now that he thinks about it-

“is there something wrong?” you ask, face creasing in worry at seeing his frown. 

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” simon replies, his mind already mapping out the roads to his place. “lemme just grab my keys while you drink up, yeah?”

you nod softly, eyes fluttering close when simon leans forward to press his lips on the top of your head, before stepping away from your warmth. he watches the way you ambled towards the bar counter, carefully picking up your new flute of bellini before turning to show him that adorable little smile that simon’s starting to be addicted to and taking a small sip of your cocktail.

the wrap of your pretty lips around the straw shouldn’t stir something so carnal in him but it does and simon gulps, well aware of the sudden thirst that sucked the moisture from his throat, before turning to march towards his table.

johnny whistles out loud when simon reaches them, tipping his new glass of beer and whooping even when kyle growls how he’s being too loud. simon would’ve sided with garrick, but his patience is running thin and the need that is raging within him is gaining strength so he ignores them both to stand beside johnny.

“keys.”

“what?”

“mactavish, give me your keys.”

“...why?”

simon holds in a sigh as he watches kyle reach over to smack johnny on the back of his head. “what the hell do you think?” 

john continues to ignore the group, his eyes trained somewhere on the dance floor. traitor, simon thinks. 

“oh,” johnny whispers. “oh!” 

he tries not to tap his foot as johnny grapples with his trousers, hitting his elbows on the edge of the table and angrily cursing in scottish, before finally fishing them out of the depths of his pockets and presenting them to simon. simon takes them with urgency, almost ripping them from johnny’s fingers, before throwing the keys of his harley to johnny and barking out his thanks.

“use protection!” johnny screams because of course he would. he’s a fucking bastard.

simon flips him off as he marches back towards you. 

you look up at hearing him call your name, your beautiful face glowing as you smile at him again.

god, he’ll never tire of seeing your pretty smile.

“ready?” he asks, masking the excitable tremble of his voice with a quick cough.

“mhmm!” you reply, putting down your half-empty cocktail and clambering beside simon’s side. he presses another kiss on the top of your head, this time no longer holding back as he breathes you in, and leads you out towards johnny’s car.

next time, he’ll take you out for a bike ride. 

because simon promises that there will be a next time.

starting to think if i might need a masterlist for biker!simon atp // edit: mlist!

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ask #dragonstoneshortcake #suns

[pikp0kcas3]

The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

#aromantism #aromantic #aroace #asexual #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #lgbtqia #alastor aroace #PLEASE i just want people to LEAVE HIM ALONE #“but it’s a spectrum” STOP USING IT AS AN EXCUSE #RESPECT AROACE PEOPLE WITH ZERO INTEREST IN ROMACE AND SEX #let us have this #we barely get anything as it is #but just to clarify i don’t believe that most people are being intentionally rude about it #nor am i discouraging people from creating fan content because it is FAN CONTENT and you can express yourself #i just would like people to understand a little more that #yes it is a spectrum and it covers an extremely wide range of orientations #yes ANYONE who identities as someone on the spectrum is completely valid #if you wanna argue with that i am showing you the door and kicking your sorry aphobic ass out #my point is that the spectrum is not a loophole. it is not an excuse and it is NOT okay to just use it willy nilly for your convenience

[velvetures]

Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part one

summary : 3 sisters for 3 brothers....right? Azriel believes wholeheartedly that Elain should be his mate and in doing so ignores his deep feelings for you.

🧚‍♀️

a/n : I haven't written in like 6 years since my draco malfoy and kpop fanfictions HAHA so please forgive me I am rusty!! Also I wrote this on my phone eeee

but finally eee I'm so excited to post my first writing on tumblr !! I was always a quotev and wattpad girly but here I am finally... 💗

just writing some rough short stories rn but I'll def write more as I get more comfortable again and into the rhythm! let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

ps: it's not proof read cuz I'm lazy I'm so sorry so please ignore mistakes dearies

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You watched as Azriel bent down to whisper something into Elains ear and you felt a growl beginning to build up in your throat.

You didn't know the mating bond did this ; make one so possessive and jealous that the half-moon nail marks on your palms had become blood red, from gripping your fists too strongly.

"I just don't understand why you can't tell him," a voice whispers next to you. You turn to acknowledge Mor, as she slips in next to you into the booth.

"Because the moment I do, this whole dynamic changes Mor," you whisper back, indicating to the sprawl of people around you.

You guys had come to Rita's once again, to party, drink, kiss and do other nonsense things Cassian had eagerly talked about, whilst pitching the idea to the group. It had started off fun, with everyone talking together but as the night had progressed, they had all paired off. You could see Feyre and Rhys making out in the corner of your eyes and Nesta and Cassian dancing around each other on the club floor. Elain and Azriel had also innocently gotten up and moved to another table, using a range of excuses you hadn't bothered to process.

Even Mor had a female making eyes at her from afar.

"Then change the dynamic, Y/N. I need some excitement in my life," she whispered furiously again and slid out, stalking to the female at the bar.

Groaning you sunk into the booth, left alone to your thoughts plagued by one thing only, Azriel.

The repetitive music slowly faded out, as you downed drink after drink, watching the others around you mingle and grind away into the depths of the night. They would come past your table and say a few words before being dragged away again.

But not once did he come. Not once did he even look in your direction... and it infuriated you.

"You look more miserable than me,"

You blinked, looking up to focus in on the flop of red hair, braids and whizzing metallic eye and a handsome jawline.

"Lucien!!!" you let out a whine, attempting to get up but falling back down in the process, not having realised how much strong alcohol you had consumed in the last hour.

"Woah there stargirl," he slipped in next to you, using the nickname only he used for you.

Lucien and you had met on Starfall, as you had been leaning on the balcony, apparently being half a second from falling over because of your drunk eagerness to "catch one of the stars", and since then, he had named you Stargirl. Your friendship had blossomed due to your matching humour and desire to travel the realms.

His shoulder pressed up against you, his warmth spread through you, making you feel giddy. You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or your desperation, as you abruptly laid a hand on his thigh.

If he noticed, he didn't show it as he took a swig of one of the elixirs that you had in your hand.

As he drank, you watched his eyes zero in on his elusive mate and you swore you saw them darken.

His scent visibly changed as he placed the now empty cup back on the table with a lethal fluidness that had you wondering how good he was at controlling his emotions.

"Its a shame we are mated to the wrong people, otherwise you and I would have ruled the world" he whispers, still not looking at you.

Your breath catching in your throat, your heavy heart pangs with emotion, exaggerated from the effects of the ethanol.

"At least she knows you are her mate Lucien... he doesn't even know about me," you miserably mutter.

You feel Luciens hot gaze rest on you as you look up into his deep eyes.

There's no doubt the turmoil of seeing each other's mates together shines in both of your eyes, but behind the pathetic nature of the situation, a force glint shines through his.

"Then why don't we tell him, Y/N," he urges, a smirk growing on his face.

Your heart drops as you make eye contact with Lucien, his eyes glinting with jealousy and anger.

You had never seen Lucien ever break his calm facades, he always would take whatever Elain would throw at him ; why was he so fired up tonight?

"You have always been so kind to Elain and given her time Lucien, why do you want to make her jealous now?" you voice your thoughts, causing him to look away, as you attempt to search his eyes.

Little did you know or feel, the dark cool gaze that had been assessing you since the moment Lucien had slipped in.

If one were to look through your party at this moment in time, the looks of longing and jealously swirling between you and Lucien could easily have been interpreted as longing and hunger for each other. With now, your full body turned to him, intimately touching him, shoulder to shoulder, anyone could mistake you as a couple.

---

Azriel nodded patiently as he listened to Elain talk about the new plants she wished to acquire from the Dawn Court for her garden.

He was trying so hard to listen and be attentive, but it was difficult when his shadows were buzzing about him, even more frantically, with the effects of the alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night.

He knew the amount of pumps of the vanilla perfume you had sprayed onto yourself, he knew how many times you had sighed throughout the night and he knew of the half-moon marks on your hands. His shadows told him everything, even when he didn't want to know.

For he didn't want to know the looks Lucien and you were giving each other, he didn't want to acknowledge the clenching of your thighs or the hand on your thigh or the-

"-So what do you think Azriel?"

Elains sweet voice cut in deeply through his silent spiralling, as he hummed coming back to the present.

Her big doe eyes innocently looked up at him as he racked his brain for what she had been asking about.

"YES I think the plants would be wonderful-," he began, when his shadows started screaming, "Elain excuse me one moment."

He quickly got up, his eyes narrow and jaw clenching as he went to get out of the booth in haste.

Elains eyes followed him and they widened slightly.

Luciens' hands were on your waist, holding you up from behind, as you both made your way to the dance floor, giggling.

---

read [ part two ] here deariess <3

#angst acotar #acotar #enemies to lovers #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel acotar #acotar memes #jealous azriel #elain x lucien #elain archeron #feyre archeron #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #rhys x reader #morrigan

[malestransforming]

Chronivac Twins

The moment I saw this AI image, I knew I had to write something. Probably one of the hottest things I have ever seen.

Special thanks to @octuscle for the image inspiration. Here is a link to their original story.

- - - - - - - -

Empty beer cans filled the table in front of the two men. The room was silent, the TV showing the console home screen, and darkness was creeping in from the night. The night was winding down, and the two friends were enjoying peaceful moment before the night truly wrapped up.

Mason breathed a heavy sigh, comfortable in his current state. He was clearly drunk, but happily drunk. He fished around in his pockets, feeling for the recent purchase he had received that day: a brand new Chronivac tablet. He pulled it out of his pocket, powering it on for the first time, watching the screen suddenly brighten, flashing the Chronivac logo. 

“Check it out!” Mason suddenly exclaimed, surprising even himself with his boldness. “I got this new Chronivac in the mail.”

Beside him sat Chris, Mason’s best friend since grade school. Chris was drunker than Mason was, with his eyes closed and his body still, but he too was in happy state of intoxication. 

“Oh yeah? What is that?” Chris slurred from the other end of the coach. The back of Mason’s head was resting on the top of the sofa, leaned back in an almost unnatural position. A massive drunken grin was plastered on his face, highlighting the comfortable state he was currently in.

Mason held up the sleek tablet to an oblivious Chris. A loading screen flashed again as the system booted up. 

“Yeah, it’s a tool that lets me change a part of my body. Actually it will change a part of both of us. They had a deal on the twins package.”

“Cool…” Chris breathed.

“Yeah. I know you have been feeling down lately, so I thought it would be nice to spice things up for you. Plus, you know you’re my bro. We’ve been buds since we were five years old. I figured it was time we made it official.”

Mason began tapping at the screen, swiping at different sliders and dials. There were dozens of different settings with labels like “Hair”, “Muscle Levels”, “Race/Nationality”… Mason balked at the overwhelming choices and options, but forced himself to stay focussed; this was a change he had wanted for a while.

“So I was thinking of doing some kind of mixed race. Hmm. Japanese and Mexican? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. I bet that would look hot. With jacked muscles, like body builders. And since we’re gonna be twins, you’ll get it too. Sound good to you Chris?”

Chris only smiled and laughed to himself, the way drunk people often do. It was clear he was not fully present in the moment. Mason took Chris’ drunken laughter as a sign of agreement and continued with the settings page. He slid up the muscle slider to the max, added jock personalities and details such as personal trainer and fitness influencer. He double checked the ‘Race’ tab, making sure that Japanese and Mexican were both checked off. Pleased with his work, he continued on to the last section, “Target Selection” and “Transform”. He allowed the device a few moments to calibrate before confirming the two bodies in the room. He double checked that the “Twins” button was selected and hovered over the Transform button.

“All right bro. This is it. See you on the other side!”

And with that he tapped the button. The screen went blank for a moment, creating a quick sense of panic in Mason’s heart, but reappeared with a white, animated progress bar.

Mason looked down at his hands and arms. “I don’t feel any different,” he said. 

He checked the screen again. The progress bar had moved up by one pixel and showed a time remaining of 1440 minutes. 

“Oh shoot! I set the transformation duration to be 24 hours. Well that’s okay. When we wake up tomorrow, we’ll definitely see some changes! Next time you see me Chris I’ll be be a huge muscled-out bro. And a completely different race. And so will you! We’ll be twins. Pedro and Miguel. We’re gonna be so fucking hot.”

A gentle and rhythmic breathing came from the other end of the couch. Mason turned his head and grinned at Chris who had passed out on the couch. 

“See you in the morning, Miguel,” he whispered. 

-

Bright sunlight was pouring into the apartment. The morning was late, but the day was still young. Chris stirred on the sofa; he was now lying horizontally on the couch, shirtless and in his underwear. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, rubbing his eyelids with a balled up fist, and stretching against the soft cushions of the sofa. His broad feet pushed against the far armrest, and his arms stretched off behind him. He sat up, and noticed his first change.

Looking down at his chest, Chris saw his pectoral muscles had ballooned out in front of him to a God-like proportion. He cupped his chest, making note of how his nipple had slipped down below his eye line, and squeezed the new muscle. 

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed. “Why do I have tits?” 

Mason launched himself off the sofa and dove into the bathroom. The flickering fluorescent light clicked on, revealing the extent of Mason’s initial changes. Below his chest were the unmistakeable beginnings of 6-pack abs. Mason ran his fingers over top of his stomach, remembering the slight beer gut that had been there the night before. 

He leaned in closer to the mirror and begin poking and prodding his face. His nose seemed wider and his eyes were narrower. His lips were plumping as well, into two thick pillows. He ran his meatier fingers through his darkening hair; it seemed thicker, curlier and shorter than it had before. He pulled a strand and watched it bounce back into place on his scalp. 

The sound of a door slamming brought Chris out of his trance. He stepped out of the bathroom and back into the main room.

“Bro!” Mason called from the entry-way. “Are you up?”

“Yeah! What the fuck is happening to me?” Chris replied in anguish.

Mason came around the corner and Chris immediately became aware that the changes he was going through were also happening to Mason. Mason appeared to be several inches shorter, and Chris noticed that he was roughly eye-level to himself now. His chest and abs were similarly large and muscled as Chris’ were, except Mason’s shoulders and arms were much wider. Veins pulsed across Mason’ skin and over his bulging biceps. His nose and eye shape seemed strangely familiar, as did the plumpness of his lips. Mason noticed that Chris’ hair was shorter on top with a shaved, faded appearance on the side.

“Mason, what the fuck is happening? I pass out drunk and wake up all top heavy like this! And then you waltz in looking like that! What the fuck?”

“Chill out bro,” Pedro said. “And my name isn’t Mason anymore. It’s Pedro. And your name isn’t Chris, it’s Miguel. You’re turning out to be such a hot twin.”

Chris/Miguel was unable to get anymore words out as sharp pains coursed through his arms and legs. He hunched over, wrapping his growing limbs around his torso. In front of his eyes he saw the muscles in his arms and legs double, triple and quadruple in size, into massive slabs of muscle. His trap muscles ached and burned as the fibres inside re-stitched themselves, growing to match the mass of his arms and chest. Across the room Pedro grinned in anticipation, as his adonis belt thinned out, becoming lean and chiselled, into his tight pelvis and butt. 

“Miguel, we’re going to be so hot!” Pedro’s voice was deeper and more coastal sounding. His jock-instincts were bubbling in his brain, overwriting whatever personality he had before.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Miguel. I mean Chris.” Chris stammered. “How did you even do this?”

“Bro, it was the Chronivac. I told you last night. Just embrace it. I paid good money for this twins package.”

“I need to call them. There has to be a way to reverse this.” 

With a wide stride, Chris/Miguel walked over to where his phone was, but doubled over as a burning pain seared through his stomach. He squeezed with his hands, feeling the muscles underneath swell and grow under his touch. Before his eyes his abs went from flat and empty to being completely ripped. His waist got tighter as his adonis belt and hip muscles also tensed and flexed, just like Pedro’s had.

“Bro, I have a six pack!” Chris exclaimed, his voice cracking as it matched the timbre of Pedro’s.  

“They match mine, bro!” Pedro said.

Chris shook his head. If he could just call the company and explain what the problem was, then he figured he could stop the changes. He found his phone and brought it to his face, waiting for Face ID to unlock. The phone vibrated in his dark and meaty hand, refusing to unlock. In the black mirror of his phone, he saw a completely different face than the one he was used to. His nose was wider, and his jaw was leaner. His eyes had narrowed into Asian-like features and his hair was shorter and darker than before. His face was looking identical to Pedro’s, right down to the plump lips.

In a panic, Chris typed in his passcode and Googled the number for Chronivac. The phone began ringing.

“Hello?” said a voice on the other end.

“Hello, is this support? My name is Miguel, I mean Chris. My name is Chris. I don’t own your product, but my brother Pedro — I mean my best friend Mason does. He used the Chronivac on me last night and I woke up with big muscles and my face is looking Japanese and Mexican? And the same thing is happening to him! He says we’re becoming twins. This has to be against your Terms of Service! I didn’t agree to this.”

A dark skin spot formed on the back of Chris’ hand, spreading across his skin and up his bulging arms. His skin was darkening, to match his new ethnicity. 

“It sounds to me like it might be too late to intervene. Our records show Pedro and Miguel Watanabe.”

“That’s right,” Miguel interjected. He was Miguel, not Chris.

“Yeah,” the agent continued. “So your brother got the Twins Package, and since you are legally twins now, there’s nothing that can be done to change back the transformation. But it’s going to be great being a pair of super hot Latino-Asian influencers, right?”

“Yeah,” Miguel replied absent-mindedly, and in a voice that was deepening. “Thanks anyway. Peace.” 

He hung up and tossed the phone aside. Pedro wandered over and wrapped his hand around his twin brother’s shoulder. 

“It’s at ninety-nine percent,” Pedro said, indicating the transformation process on the Chronivac. 

Miguel felt another spasm in his thighs and legs and saw his skin was now completely browned and tanned now. His legs were thick and bulging, and so was the rest of his body. A wave of emotions came feelings rolled over his brain, and Miguel stood silently in place as his brain and personality adjusted to match his new physique. Pedro stood still for a moment too, as the twenty-two year old twins realized they could speak English, apanese and Spanish and had a long history of lifting weights and posting work-out videos on TikTok. The transformation progress bar clicked up one last pixel to one-hundred percent, snapping the twins out of their daze. 

“Bro,” Pedro said. “You wanna get a workout in?”

“You know it!” Miguel said, high-fiving his twin brother with a grin. 

#male tf #male transformation #jock transformation #reality change #male tf story #male body transformation #jockification #ai image #chronivac #race change #race tf #race transformation #latino transformation #asian transformation

[lunarw0rks]

HEYYY just wondering if I can do a request of an experimented reader? (They can be any animal or anything)

❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Patient 001 // 141 Mini Drabbles

Warning(s): FailedExperiment!reader, gn!reader, medical procedures, drugging mention, kidnapping, blood, injury, death, animal testing mention, angst, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n Word Count: 2.6k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

A/N: I hope this isn't too dark for what the anon requested. If it is, I apologize. I've been interested in this plot line for a bit, and wanted to write something for it!

SYNOPSIS; You're a failed scientific experiment. Once a civilian, now a half-human that had gone through hell. Your other half, now a mutated creature.

To no longer be human would be a blessing. But that part of you stayed, partially. Still terrorized from the experiments, the tests, the documentation of your transformation.

Then came the day you were found.

MISSION BRIEFING; Their orders were simple.

Evacuate innocent technicians — and most importantly — find the location of the catastrophic chemical component, before it ends up in the wrong hands.

What was behind the doors, they'd certainly never forget.

Ghost

His rifle remained raised in front of him as he swept each room. It was obvious the enemy knew they were coming. All he'd found so far were empty sterile spaces, understimulating exam rooms, or numbing cubicles filled to the brim with charts.

Until he heard it.

A sickening screech, like that of a person possessed by a demon. Echoing off the tile walls, much too loud for the lung capacity of a human - and in deep anguish.

Simon's heart stopped when he pushed through the double doors, seeing a huddled figure left behind bars. Not a scientist left behind. Not a prisoner of war. Something.

The glow of your eyes reflected off the blinding white fluorescents, irises matching that of crimson. Your flesh, once human-like, is now sunken and riddled with healed slashes. Most of them self-inflicted, from when you thrashed against your restraints.

When you saw the figure, looming and dormant, it reminded you of the scientists that spent hours observing your changes. How you shrieked when touched when something as small as a pin dropped. Every noise was heightened, making your ears ring painfully. Your hearing could track the sound of potential prey for miles. And your tender skin? Only soothed when you weren't lucid enough to remember the pokes and prods.

Every week, it was a new serum, a new component. Something they would give you to study its effects on your body. Whatever you were, it was a mystery. All you did know was that you craved the metallic taste of blood.

Similar to that of a hungry hound, or that of urban legends that hunt unsuspecting hikers. But you weren't cruel. You weren't a cold-blooded beast that wanted to rip their throats out. That's what kept you around so long.

Your empathy never subsided, like it was supposed to. Your feedings were only that of animal blood or the human samples they gave you in the hope that it would progress the experiment. It never did. It only left you in that cell longer; fearsome and isolated.

"Christ..." Simon muttered to himself, eyes wide. The figure approached the enclosure, his rifle lowered when he observed your fear. He wasn't holding a syringe, not a clipboard, not a video camera, not even a vile of blood for you to choke down. Your vermillion gaze inspected the man with uncertainty, who looked like that of a soldier.

Your fatigued limps crawled across the scuffed cement until you could use the bars to find your feet. Something you couldn't do when the scientists were monitoring you. After so long huddled on the ground or writhing on the cot, it was a relief, if that was possible anymore.

Despite his best judgment, his fingers reached through the bars until they found your fingers. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, his British rasp ringing through your overly-sensitive ears. For the first time in months, you touched the warm flesh of a human hand, not an unempathetic gloved one.

It was a natural reaction to flinch; that primal side of you overshadowing the human one. But you still had the ability to find genuine empathy in his amber eyes. Your hand wrapped tightly around his through the gap in the bars, savoring the once-deprived human contact. "Do you remember your name?"

Price

Price took the riskiest route; the one he wouldn't dare send his team into head-first. The pathway that took him through each of the hidden laboratories — the one only countless hours of digging for intel made him aware of.

It was more chilling than he foresaw.

Rows of exam rooms, shelves of unknown components, countless cages of small animals. All that is expected in a covert scientific compound.

That is... until he stumbled upon a sealed room different from the others. One that could only be inhabited by a human being. He stared in each direction of the hallway, finding a keycard left on one of the bodies.

It was his duty to clear every room, no matter how disturbing the contents would be. Behind the plate glass room that resembled that of an enclosure. A small table and two chairs, a video camera, and most shockingly — the trembling figure in restraints on a thin foam mattress. One who has clearly been poked and prodded for months straight, littered with scars and an almost inhuman appearance.

The man approaching you wasn't a threat, but that didn't stop your body's natural reaction to hide. After months of enduring tests and experiments, being monitored like some sort of creature — it was hard to trust anyone. "My God... What have they done to you?" Price murmured as he approached the cot, fingers finding each tube and removing them one by one.

His expression was one of pity and disgust as his mind imagined all the awful things they put you and your body through. Countless months of research and injecting new components into you clearly didn't turn you into some monster.

You were frightened and in agony — still human underneath it all.

"Can you move your fingers for me? Your legs?" He asked softly, bent down next to your bed. Your shaky fingers finally gained some movement, after he had cut off the constant drip of sedatives. Next, you hesitantly untucked your legs, feeling your bare feet touch the icy tile for the first time in months. It was like learning how to walk all over again, except now you weren't the same you.

Your senses were heightened — smell, eyesight, hearing, and most of all touch. His palm found the small of your back as he led you to the door of your cell, using the keycard he swiped to unlock it from the inside.

As he led you through the corridors, he grabbed a spare lab coat off one of the racks, placing it over your shivering shoulders. No scrubs, no sweats, only a loose white gown. If he wasn't so focused on keeping his eyes peeled for hostiles, he would've given you his own jacket. The entire building had to be kept cool and they hadn't bothered to give you something warmer to wear.

He spoke into his radio, alerting the rest of his team as they combed through the rest of the compound. Right now, his priority was making sure you ended up somewhere safe tonight. "You're safe now, alright? Nobody will put their hands on you again."

Not a place with sterile white walls, a bed to sleep in with more than a thin foam pad, a place where your every move wasn't monitored. A place where the human part of you could feel safe again.

Soap

The power to the compound was cut off when Soap's team breached the tight security system. It was a faulty system — unlocking all the electronically sealed doors instead of the opposite. And the lights, instead of a blinding white, were dim and flickered repeatedly. Most likely the emergency ones.

Enough light to guide you through the corridors, but not enough for his trained eyes to be entirely sure of no threats.

He was using his instincts, his sensory training; all he had to rely on as he crept through the halls. Eerily silent halls. The only sound is the hum of all the technology littering this place and his boots hitting the smooth tile.

Eventually, he found one of the testing rooms; a place that is bound to have some chemical components stored.

Through the glass viewing window, he could see that this space was heavily used. Video cameras, viewing chairs, viles and IV bags stored on refrigerators shelves. Most chilling - the chair with restraints. The one you’d been bound to so many times, poked and prodded by medical tools.

The longer it went on, you felt it more. You weren’t lucky enough to go numb to the pain. It had the opposite effect. Every ache, every stab, every head-splitting migraine.

Soap’s brows knitted together in focus as he maintained his stealth, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of actionable intel. Though this room was dimmer than the rest, with emergency lights even more faulty than the ones in the rest of the building. He had to squint to clear the space in front of him, which hindered the rest of his senses.

Perhaps that's the reason he didn't hear the enemy behind him, or why he got a few stabs into Johnny's abdomen before he managed to fight him off. He slumped against the wall of the lab, comms jammed and unintelligible. Soap had convinced himself this was it, the moment he began seeing double from blood loss.

This was your long-awaited opportunity to escape - the electronic lock on your room failed when the compound was breached. You glided down the corridors, eyes trained ahead of you. What would the world out there be like? Would you ever have a semi-normal life again? This wasn't something you just move on from.

A sharp pain in your abdomen made you wince. But it wasn't pain from a true injury; it was a phantom ache. Someone nearby was hurt — someone deserving of your help.

It was a heavy debate; make your escape now, leave the maimed individual to fend for themselves. But your empathy outweighed your selfishness. The faint distressed prayers got louder as you crept inside one of the testing rooms.

The figure, one of a soldier, clutching his stomach in the same spot you had just felt the pain. Soap's eyes could barely adjust to the person approaching him, only managing a mumble. From his perspective, it must've been terrifying. A gowned, sickly patient with shaky hands outstretched to him.

He made his best attempt to fight you — which wasn't much of a fight at all. You lifted the crimson-soaked tee, wincing as the phantom pain kicked into high gear. The closer you got to a person in pain, the more intensity there was. It was time to use your new abilities by choice. Not one of the scientist's papercuts, not a wound they intentionally inflicted on a lab animal.

Your hands hovered over his inflamed stab wounds, teeth gritted in focus as you knelt next to him. One moment, Soap was delirious from blood loss, sputtering out incomprehensible phrases. The next, the searing in his abdomen reduced to a mild ache.

Then a tickle. And then nothing except the warmth radiating off your fingertips. The stab wounds faded from his flesh right before his eyes.

You had taken away his pain; somehow, in some way.

For a moment, he imagined this was heaven. An angel of mercy escorting him to the high place, though he was always convinced he'd end up in the fiery one. When not blinded by pain, he could finally muster the ability to speak again. "Who are you?" He wanted to ask what you were, but the empathy bleeding from your eyes pulled at his heartstrings. Those eyes; cloudy on the irises. And your sickly features, now filled with more life after healing him.

You were much too drained to answer. It was your first time saving a human in such a critical condition. Healing drained every ounce of energy from you. Before you could answer, he rose to his feet, wrapping one of the stray quilts around your trembling shoulders. "Ye saved my life, it's the least I can do."

Gaz

The raid was by no means straightforward. Nonetheless, it was strange to Gaz how few intel pieces he found. A few files he skimmed, some compelling blueprints — but nothing actionable. Once again, the rules of engagement prevented him from pushing the bounds of the code he followed. Another catastrophe is around the corner with an aloof public, yet there's nothing he can do but follow orders.

But there was more to this facility than met his eyes. Kyle knew it, and his instinct was rarely wrong.

There was a rattle on one of the lower levels, like that of a chair scraping against the floor. A faint scream. Then silence. No gunshots, no explosions, no enemies making callouts, not even his comms alerting him to check that level. It was obvious he was the only one who heard it.

He kept his sidearm raised ahead of him, eyes dancing around the motionless halls of the place. Whatever it was, he was going to find it; with or without following orders. "Anybody down here?" Gaz's own voice echoed off the walls. Still, no sound followed, not while he crept down the flight of stairs. Down the hall, he swept every room, finding nothing and no one once again.

Get out of there, Garrick. There's nothing here.

Price's comm almost swayed him — almost made his shaking hand that was hovering over the last door knob lower. Then he heard another clatter inside the room, one he couldn't ignore, despite his Captain's firm orders to evac.

He could take a serious hit for this, he knew that.

It wouldn't be his first time pushing the limits. Every time he did, he saved someone or something. If he didn't do that this time; he wasn't sure he could handle that weighing on his conscience.

It wasn't an enemy, he would've attacked the Sergeant's weak points by now. Kyle opened the door labeled Observation — his last hope of making this treacherous move worth it. Another shuffle sounded from inside. "If you're in here, show yourself!" The door creaked open as his sidearm remained at the ready, though it quickly dropped to his side when he caught a glimpse of the gruesome scene.

You curled into a ball and let out gasps and whimpers. Around you, a blood trail led up to the body of one of the technicians. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you heard the shots, and his hands were on you. You acted on mere impulse, which seemed to be more common after all the experimentations.

Gaz felt like he had dry-swallowed a big pill. You weren't a hostile, not even a scientist. You were some form of maltreated lab rat — one that had finally snapped and didn't know what to do with themselves.

You raised your head from your hands, showing him your face wrinkled with both fright and shock. An obvious adrenaline high, from what he was seeing. Kyle held out a hand, holstering his weapon as he approached slowly. "I'm here to help, alright?" He spoke cautiously, kneeling beside you to meet your crouched level. His hand found your forearm, tracing a hand over the number tattooed on your skin.

The thought was sickening — a human being meddled with, imprisoned in this place for testing. His instincts were proven right again, yet another person he could still save. It was tempting to act on that instinct again, to put up your walls. But this soldier was your last chance at freedom, and whatever half-normal life you might be able to salvage after all this.

His hands found your waist next, guiding you to a standing position. "You stay behind me and you'll get out of here. I promise you." Kyle spoke to you softly, before leading the way out of there. You'd never seen the outside of the observation room, not once in all the time you had been kept there.

He allowed you to cling to him as he retraced his steps, ascending the staircase. Gaz had saved you — point blank. Any longer, and you would've been an abandoned trial by the scientists, or wrongfully executed during the siege.

No amount of paperwork would make this choice any less worth it.

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #mw2 fanfic #task force 141 x reader #cod headcanons #cod x reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod x female reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #141 headcanons #141 task force #tf 141

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not changing my OCs backstory?

Saw some recent posts about people fighting over RP characters so I thought I'd throw mine in.

I (F25) am in a RP server for peoples OCs. It's a small server for friends or friends-of-friends so everyone is either a friend or an aquaintence.

There's a channel specifically for people to post their OCs to see if anyone wants to RP with them. The posts are basically references with the characters name, appearance, backstory, etc. and a list of things the person wants to RP with them (smut, angst, medieval, coffee shop, roomates, etc.)

Anyways, I started RPing with two other people, Amy (F23) and Jenny (F25) recently and things were going good. We were doing a modern with magic type RP and all of our OCs met each other at a bar.

Eventually as the RP progressed my OC revealed that she thought she was a lesbian and then realized she was bi (they were all sitting at a table together commenting on other people in the bar and who they thought was cute).

Amy suddenly stopped responding to the RP so it was just me and Jenny, and I just figured that Amy was busy with college stuff so I didn't want to bug her about responding.

A few days later I get a DM from Jenny saying that Amy is REALLY uncomfortable with my OCs backstory. I'm of course confused and ask her why Amy didn't just message me. She told me Amy was really upset and didn't want to talk about it. I say "If she doesn't want to talk about it why is she telling you to tell me? If she has a problem she needs to tell me so I can fix it."

About 20 minutes later I get a message from Amy with a list of problems she has with my OC. The list said:

My OC is lesbophobic.

Your OC is saying that being lesbian is a phase (not at all what my OC's dialogue said during the scene, the word "phase" was never once used).

There's not enough lesbian rep in things and you're taking away even more.

You're replacing actual lesbian rep with an inferior straight character (yes, she used the word inferior).

She basically demanded that I change her backstory and make her a lesbian again, or AT LEAST make sure she ends up in a relationship with another woman.

I was pissed.

I replied back and said:

"Please go back and highlight the dialogue line where my OC stated that being a lesbian was a phase, because I searched the word "phase" in our channel and I couldn't find it. That word wasn't even used once during our RP, by any of us.

Also, there's nothing wrong with something being a "phase". People don't get one chance to pick a sexuality or gender and then get stuck with it for the rest of their life. Sometimes it takes people a while to figure themselves out. Sometimes things change.

My OCs sexuality is literally based on my own personal experiences. I thought I was straight, and then I thought I was a lesbian, and now I realize that I'm actually bi. I'm not lesbophobic for changing my mind, that's not what that word means.

If you want more lesbien rep then go make more lesbian characters. I'm not "taking away rep" because it was never there in the first place, and again, my OC is based on my OWN EXPERIENCES, and I as a person do not exist to provide representation. Why is lesbian rep more important than bi rep? I can name multiple, canon lesbian characters but I can only think of one character that canonically likes men and women.

I'm not replacing lesbian relationships with a straight relationship because even if she dated a man she would still be bi, not straight. It's fucking disgusting that you think a relationship or person is "inferior" because they're not the sexuality you want them to be. She's based on me, do you think I'm inferior for something completely out of my control?

I'm not changing shit about her backstory, especially not to coddle the feelings of biphobes."

She responded with a huge rant that I'm not going to post here but the TLDR is "You're lesbophobic and you hate lesbians and you're awful and dangerous and you don't care about good rep fuck you." and then blocked me.

I told Jenny what Amy had said and she said "Idk, it's not really a big deal to change it? It was a small part of her story and it made Amy uncomfortable :/"

So AITA for not changing it?

It IS a small, insignificant part of her story that wouldn't change anything if I removed it but for me it's the principle: I'm tired of bisexual characters (and people!) being treated as lesser or not as good as "real" LGBT+ people/relationships.

Also I'm planning on making comics with my OCs and I make sure that there's at least a few lesbian, gay, trans, etc. characters in each story so that EVERYONE gets rep. Which matters way more to me than "rep" that only like 15 people in a discord server will see.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[permanentswaps]

Family Reunion – Steve’s Youthful Journey

Inspired by @bodyswapper, specifically: Family Reunion Pt. 1 and Family Reunion Pt. 2

Over the course of the next year, Uncle Steve seamlessly settled into his new life as Alex. The once nerdy, shy young man moved into his own apartment and underwent a striking physical transformation, dedicating himself to the gym. Abs and well-defined biceps now adorned his frame, while a carefully groomed beard added a touch of rugged charm.

The gym became Uncle Steve's haven, where he immersed himself in lifting and sculpting his body. Conversations with fellow gym-goers transitioned from timid small talk to enthusiastic discussions about his impressive workout routine. On various occasions, he found himself admiring his reflection in the mirror, often making playful comments about his newfound physique.

"Check out these muscles, no one's going to resist me now!" Uncle Steve exclaimed, flexing in front of the mirror. "I should've done this ages ago!"

He reveled in the attention he received at the gym, expanding his social circle and embracing the newfound confidence that came with his physical transformation. One evening at a downtown bar, wearing a revealing tank top, he caught the eye of Carlos. The two engaged in a silent dance of glances and subtle smiles, each checking the other out from across the crowded room.

When the two inevitably stumbled home together, Uncle Steve used his newfound strength to toss him onto the bed. As Uncle Steve gyrated his hips against his tight hole, Carlos shouted out “oh YES Alex, harder, harder.”

“Alex” Uncle Steve thought to himself, “I like the sound of that.”

As he pinned Carlos down to the bed and picked up the pace, Uncle Steve groaned “Fuck yeah, that’s right, say my name.”

“Oh, fuck yeah Alex! Fuck me, Alex!” Carlos screamed, as the two shot their loads simultaneously.

As the year progressed, Uncle Steve became fully invested in his new life. With a fantastic body, charm, and a loving boyfriend, he relished in the power he felt. So, when the family reunion invitation arrived in his inbox, he was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't initially intended for the switch to be permanent, but the allure of his current life was too enticing to relinquish.

Reflecting on the upcoming reunion, Uncle Steve circled the date on his calendar with a sly smile. "I think Alex will be in for quite the surprise this year," he mused.

---

Before he knew it, the family reunion had arrived. It promised to be a weekend filled with laughter, camaraderie, and the peculiar swap tradition that had become a cornerstone of their family dynamics. All 50+ members were gearing up for the grand event, buzzing with anticipation.

Uncle Steve played his part to perfection. As his Aunt Margot eyed Uncle Steve with curiosity, she couldn't help but comment on the apparent change. "Wow, you’ve bulked up quite a bit since I last saw you, huh?" she said.

Uncle Steve, in Alex's body, laughed confidently. "Thanks for noticing, Aunt Margot. Been hitting the gym a lot lately. Gained a lot more confidence since last year's swap."

Later, Uncle Steve found Alex, still in his body, and jokingly inquired, "So, Alex, any chance I can keep this new and improved body of yours? It's grown on me," speaking out of earshot of the other family members.

Alex chuckled nervously. "Dream on, Uncle Steve. This body is coming back to its rightful owner after the reunion. Thanks for the muscles, by the way."

That evening, Alex swapped with his grandfather to take charge of running the event, as planned the previous year. Meanwhile, the pairs were secretly chosen, and potions were distributed. Uncle Steve, still in Alex’s body, swapped with his cousin, Jack.

After the swap, Uncle Steve shared with Jack the trick he had learned to win the contest with ease.

"Uncle Steve taught me this last year; might as well use it against him this time," Uncle Steve, now Jack, remarked.

Throughout the weekend, Uncle Steve and Jack flawless mimicked their respective bodies’ behaviors. The family was none the wiser.

As Saturday night's grand dinner came around, everyone was eager to hear who had one. The room filled with excitement as Grandpa, actually Alex, stepped onto the stage to unveil the pair was voted the winners.

Grandpa's revelation sent waves of surprise through the family. "Well, well! Looks like Uncle Steve's reign has finally come to an end," he exclaimed. “The winners are Jack and Alex!”

Uncle Steve, still posing as Jack, chuckled as he walked up to the stage. "It was about time someone else became the new repeat reigning champ. And it feels real good, folks."

The room erupted into a celebration, and the unexpected turn of events became the talk of the reunion. They cheered on Jack and their new two-time champion, “Alex.”  

---

Later that night, Uncle Steve and Jack swapped back, with Uncle Steve firmly back in Alex’s body. The two gathered in a private room with Alex, still in his grandfather's body. Due to the rules of the reunion, Alex had to grant whatever wishes they wanted, no exceptions.

Alex looked at the two and said “congratulations on your victory, im truly impressed. Now what would you like to wish for.”

Uncle Steve turned to Jack, gesturing for him to go first.

Jack, seizing the opportunity to enhance his physique, chimed in, "I loved the strength of being in Alex’s body and now I dreaming of having Hulk-like muscles of my own. Can we make that happen, Grandpa?"

Alex chuckled. "Muscles it is, Jack. I'll make sure you wake up feeling like a superhero tomorrow."

With Jack content and leaving the room with a cheerful wave, Uncle Steve seized the moment. As the door closed behind Jack, an unsettling calm settled in.

"Now that we're alone," Uncle Steve remarked, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "Let's talk about my wish,” his eyes locking onto Alex's with an unsettling intensity. "I've grown rather fond of this body, you know. How about a more permanent arrangement?”

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, a hint of angst creeping into his voice.

Uncle Steve met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "I want to keep this body forever. And for you never to be able to tell a living soul about it ever again."

Alex looked at his uncle in horror. A sense of powerlessness washed over him as he felt the magical energy surge out of his temporary vessel and towards his old body.

In that moment, a warm sensation tingled around Uncle Steve's entire body as he became lighter and lighter. It was then followed by a quick thud back down as his muscular shoulders fell back into place, and a profound calm surged throughout his body. In that moment, he knew – he was completely and entirely Alex.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Mamma mia | chapter five

listen to: Why did it have to be me? - Abba | I don't miss you at all - Finneas (playlist here)

warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses. For this chapter single-mothering? and stupid boyfriends.

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

The sun was coming down, casting a warm golden glow over the pristine beaches and the navy-blue waters. The breeze carried the sweet scent of saltwater and sunscreen as you entered the Hard Deck, following James and August. 

The day was a quintessential summer day. 

After Augustine had kicked both Coyote and Jake, reasonably quickly after James had finished, literally. She chased them out of the house. They barely had time to pick up their clothes; James and you threw the rest of their belongings through the window while you laughed as they dressed in the front yard. 

You can still feel Jake’s eyes on you. He winked at you while running away from Augustine, who was about to shower them with the hose. You’d shamelessly screamed at him, ‘Call me!’ still ran through your mind, and how his green sea-foam eyes shined as he saluted you was still imprinted in your heart. 

Soon after, you biked to the beach; even with your injured wrist, you forced yourself to drive because the day was too beautiful not to spend it outside. By the time you were biking back, you bumped into a larger-than-usual crowd around the Hard Deck. Augustine quickly forced you to stop as she saw a group of Navy newbies walking into the Hard Deck. Parking your bikes in the back, you quickly ran inside, still in your swimsuits; your laughter and excitement filled the air, blending with the cheerful chatter of other patrons. 

The bar was too full; it’d been a while since you’d seen it like that. Maybe it was the fact that you’d been under the sun all day, or the fact that the bar was too crowded, the fact that you mainly drank homemade lemonade and barely any food, maybe it was the fact that you had had your first orgasm that morning but, even in your bikini and body wrap, your body felt like it was simmering, a soft heat surrounding you. 

“Here!” Augustine screams as she drags you to a small spot near the bar, where you take in the sight around you. 

Sailors in their crisp uniforms mingled with locals and visitors. There was this aura around the bar. A sticky general sense of content filled the air, heavy like honey. The tropical breeze that managed to get through the window licked at you as you scanned the bar, momentarily gazing at your friends laughing. 

You stay still for a moment. Trying to paint the memory in your mind, to add the scent of the bar, the scent of summer, scan it in your face, remember every second of that day. Your heart swells as you take everything in. Every last memory of the moment. 

Of your last summer. 

“You don’t have to change places at the table?” James says as Jimmy brings your drinks, recalling how August sat on the opposite side of the table from where you and Jake had. God, you turn maroon every time you think about the morning. 

“Of course I have!” August grumbles as she remembers how she will now sit on your spot, far from where Jake had you. 

“I disinfected it with alcohol!” you answer as you sip the Martini. More than you should. 

“I don’t care!” 

“Let her be,” James replies as she sits down; she eyes you from the side. “I mean, at the kitchen table?”

Your jaw drops for a moment before James bursts into laughter. You can feel your cheeks warming up even more before you dip your fingers into your drink and quickly splash James. The drops scatter around James’ face, and she giggles even harder. 

“You did it all over the house,” you grumble. 

Augustine nods. “I can’t sit on that sunroom couch for at least a week,”

“I disinfected it!” James says with a light smile as she shrugs her shoulders. 

Honestly, you’d never seen James excited about anyone; she barely showed interest in someone since you’d met her when you were ten, and not everyone made an impression. She mostly hooked up one time every six months; it was often the cycle she had. As she called it, she would get bored and choose the most exciting suitor. 

Ignoring them soon after. 

“Who are you, and what did you do with our best friend?”

“Right?” you answer, smiling happily, another big sip. “Those googly eyes aren’t yours,”

“Oh my god, stop it,”

But with Javy Machado, it was different. 

“Anyway, which guys you were looking at, August?” James says as she sips her wine and looks around the bar. Augustine does the same, trying to locate her next suitor, and you decide to help. 

That’s when you see him.

He’s handsome, mainly because he is beaming when his striking amber eyes meet yours. It is strange. The way he moves through the crowd, it looks like he belongs here. It isn’t that he’s exuding confidence. He does seem confident, but it isn’t like that. There’s something in him, a somewhat halo effect. He appears to be glowing. He looks to be like the afternoon sun, with the tan skin and the caramel curls, what seemed to be like an attempt at an 80s pornstach. He looked like cinnamon.

Your heart skips a beat as time slows down, and the warmth of the summer day emboldens you to keep looking as if you haven’t been totally caught. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because he seems just as awe-struck as you are. His soft lips parted as he takes you in. Salty hair, tan skin, just a bikini top and a Martini in your hand. Bradley has seen plenty of beautiful women in his lifetime, but there’s something about you, your eyes, and how dazzling they are. A butterfly in a bar of sunshine. 

“Go talk to him!” James quickly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You quickly snap your head towards James, looking away from him as she smiles at you playfully, nudging you to go talk to him. You take the second round James had already ordered as soon as Jimmy sets them on the table.

Your cheeks turn maroon as you sip your Martini again. “No, I can’t!” you answer, shaking your head. Momentarily thinking about Jake and Bob. 

“August just went for hers!” she says. You turn around to find the seat next to you empty. Frowning for a moment, you return to James. “You can go too,” she insists. 

You bite your lower lip as you take a deep breath. Your mind goes back to this morning, thinking about Jake. He was supposed to call you today, and yet he didn’t. Then you remember Bob. For all you know, he might be calling you right now since your phone is dead, but he still hasn’t. You aren’t insecure, per se. It isn’t like you haven’t been thinking about them. If you had their numbers, you probably would’ve called them. 

You hold your breath for a moment. It has been a week since your summer started. Two short live romances in two days and a little more should be enough fun. Fun according to your friends, fun according to anyone your age. This is the time to make stupid decisions, experiment, and learn what you like. 

And so, you turn around looking for him. 

But he is gone. 

Your eyes scan the bar as best as possible, but there’s no sign of the mystery man. “He’s gone,” you huff silently to James, who frowns and immediately starts to look for him as if ready to fight him while you order another drink. 

Drinking the alcohol, feeling the liquid courage settle on your empty stomach, you think that’s for the best. You don’t notice when the music stops, too busy in your thoughts and telling James to drop it to notice what’s happening around you.  

And then you hear someone clearing their throat. 

“I know I’m just a fool who’s willing To sit around and wait for you,” the smooth, velvety voice makes you jolt around, and there he is. 

He is close to you now, enough that you know he can smell the salt on your skin and the thick scent of the ocean in your hair. Enough that you can see the little beads of sweat in his mustache, his pink cheeks, and the freckles surrounding his eyes. You can smell him, too, the olive scent surrounding him mixed with the scent of the beer he must’ve been taking. All-American, all beautiful, and now he’s singing to you. Acapella. 

“But baby, can’t you see there’s nothing else for me to do?” he continues to sign as people turn in delight, making the connection between him and the girl he’s singing to, you. “I’m hopelessly devoted to you,” his eyes are locked into yours as your cheeks flush, and you try to keep your smile down. 

There’s delight in his eyes when he realizes that you can’t stop smiling. He is bewitched. 

“But now there’s nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside,” he sings, swinging his hips, a dramatic performance, but now he’s accompanied by a chorus of military guys. You gasp as everyone starts to accompany him. Even James now. “I’m out of my head, Hopelessly devoted to you,”

The high tone isn’t his best for his friends; he still manages to keep it, but it causes you to cover your face with your hands as you giggle. He laughs too but continues to sing, through his chuckles, his smile now wide that he heard your laughter. 

“Hopelessly devoted to you,” he signs lower, his voice husky and beautiful. “Hopelessly devoted to you,” he sings as if the lyrics are meant only for you. For a moment, the world around you fades away, and you stare at him as the last note lingers in the air. 

Your heart flutters as the crowd erupts into cheering and applause. Everyone is now screaming his callsign, Rooster. He smiles at you, an expectation somewhere in his eyes, but you are too enthralled with him, with the gesture that you are simply beaming at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Sailor, sit here,” James finally says as she points to the empty seat beside you. 

Rooster glances at James, giving her a thankful smile before he sits next to you. You frown as James quickly leaves you to it, winking at you and silently wishing you good luck. Rooster eyes trail down your body, taking in your outfit in a bar crowded with clothed people. He enjoys it, the carelessness in you. 

“You don’t look like a singer at all, you know that?” you tease him, deciding you’ll be the first one to talk as if it would do much to diminish your anxiety. 

Rooster’s grin widens. What little he can recall from his dad was that he was never the greatest singer, not that it ever stopped him, but his mom had a prettier voice. Maybe it was the fact that he sang too much as a child until he became talented. He just knows that his father loved to sing; he loved music. Hell, this was how his father and his uncle managed to convince his mom to go on a date with Goose. 

“I like to keep a few tricks down my sleeve, you know?” he responds with the same teasing tone as he orders another beer from Jimmy, getting closer to you. 

“I think that’s the best trick to pick up girls I’ve ever seen,” you answer as you turn towards him. “Do you use it a lot here? What’s your repertoire?”

Rooster bites his lower lip as he shakes his head and sips on the beer, denying your assumptions. You roll your eyes.

“Oh, come on, Rooster,” you say with a playful smile, pushing him softly on his chest, your fingertips grazing against his strong muscles. 

You can’t help but notice how his eyes light up when you say his name, making your heart swell. You wonder for a moment if you are truly good at flirting as you gaze at him, blushing as the moments pass. 

“Bradley Bradshaw to you,” he responds, his voice soft and almost teasing. “You?”

After you tell him your name, his smile grows wider. Your inner cheek gets caught between your teeth as you take in his handsome features - those captivating eyes, the long lashes, and even that distinct pornstache that somehow adds to his charm.

“So, Bradshaw, how many times have you used it?” you inquire, genuinely curious about the adventures of the daring pilot.

“Two,” Rooster answers, but a hint of disappointment crosses your face, hidden behind your furrowed brow. It should be more, you think to yourself. With looks like his and that voice that could melt hearts, you’re sure he’s had many admirers.

“How did it go the first time?” you ask, leaning in. 

“Crashed and burned,” he admits, a touch of vulnerability in his voice.

“And the second?” you ask, the corners of your lips curling up with anticipation.

“Well, do you want to get out of here and find out with me?” he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, playfully gasping at his assumption. “What makes you think that I want to sleep with you?”

He counters with a playful pout, “Oh, so you’ll leave me brokenhearted?”

You can’t help but chuckle for a moment. The playful banter between you two feels natural, like you’ve known each other for far longer than just this encounter as if you’d known each other your whole life. It makes you feel a bit more comfortable. It’s strange. Feeling the surge of courage in your chest makes everything feel lighter for a moment. He seems lighter, but there’s something else in his eyes. A sense of longing.  

Giving him a mockingly dramatic expression, you quickly stand up from the chair and walk to the door. 

Rooster’s eyes widen. “Wait, wait,” he says, his voice softening. He follows you while you smile as you feel him closely behind you, his fingertips touching yours, before you push the door to the outside. 

The sea breeze hits your face perfectly. The moon is shining bright in the sky, enough to illuminate the beach just in the right way. A wide smile on your face as you close your eyes and relish the day. You don’t notice him looking; you don’t notice how he admires you, how his eyes are glowing as he takes you in. At night, with just a swimsuit, your face clean, your cheeks red, you are beautiful. 

“Dance with me,” he suddenly whispers. 

You snap your head towards him, opening your eyes softly as you take him in. Your heart flutters at his request, and you can’t resist his earnest plea. “You will truly break my heart,” you jest, as you take his hand and follow him to the sand. 

Wordlessly, you take his hand, and he begins to sway the two of you side to side. Your body quickly molds to his, perfectly, moving in sync with the rhythm of the music from inside the bar. His strong arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. Olive and beer fill your senses, intoxicating and comforting all at once. 

You gaze into each other’s eyes, and the world around you disappears. It’s as if there’s just the two of you on the beach, lost in the feeling, the electricity, and the warmth. 

“You are so one of them,” you whisper as your hands climb up his chest and wrap themselves around his neck. His skin is hot; it burns. You don’t know why you are so sensitive; you want to blame the alcohol, but you think that’s just an omen for a moment. 

Rooster frowns, unable to understand what you mean. “The one guy that genuinely falls in love, every evening, with a different type of girl only to fall out of it again the next morning,” you explain. 

“That’s not true at all,” he protests as his hand gently trails up your back, sending a trail of electricity in its wake. The touch is both tender but a little more intimate, enough to know that he wants more but also soft enough that you lean into him. You don’t care that he’s too warm, that the heat might turn suffocating. 

“And then, which is worse. As you are breaking her heart, you are telling all of these lies about how she’s too good for you, and you can’t possibly be a good option for her, and you love her too much to stay with her,” you continued.

Rooster chuckles softly as he leans down further. 

“You’re too good for me,” he says, and you can’t help but smile.

His eyes linger on your face for a second, studying it; he’s tasting the moment, and so are you. 

And then, he leans in.  

The way he cups your cheeks is enough for you to gasp softly before his lips connect to yours. His mouth molds perfectly with yours, his nose bumping yours as your eyes close and you let yourself go. Bradley feels his heart thundering in his chest; you taste just like honey and lemon. His fingers dig into the delicate skin of your hips. It’s slow and long; he’s taking his time, but you can feel it, his impatience and yours; you know it by now as he ran his hands along the low of your back and you into his hair. 

The kiss is sweet and pleasurable. It isn’t passionate or soft. It’s something else, too intimate, too unknown. 

It wasn’t like it was with Jake or Bob. It’s different. 

God. Jake and Bob, for all you know, they might be there. 

As the thought crosses your mind, Rooster wraps his arms around your torso, and he’s pulling you closer to him, tight. As if he doesn’t want to let you go, he deepens the kiss. 

But then something’s off. Your stomach churns, and a feeling of nausea washes over you, your breath shallow, and suddenly you are suffocating. You shake your head, barely having time to push him away enough by his chest for him to notice. He lets you go fast, just in time before the bile rises from your throat. 

It might be the dehydration, the mix of alcohol, the fact of not eating, or just your consciousness. 

But as you finish throwing up your guts, everything seems a bit blurry. A pressure on your chest that you hadn’t felt ever before overwhelms you; it feels like you can’t breathe as you wipe your mouth. 

“Honey?”

Your vision goes blurry, and your throat feels so tight that no words come out of your mouth. All you can feel is the panic rising inside your chest; everything goes black. 

SEVEN YEARS LATER

As James and Augustine had promised, they did take care of you. It’d been over two weeks since you’d run into Jake, Rooster, and Bob. They’d taken the toll of doing groceries and doing simple errands around the town so you would avoid places that they might be. Hardware stores, cinemas, bars, and Grocery stores were strictly forbidden until further notice, at least for you. Inés could go out with Augustine and James. You knew that you simply couldn’t. 

Agustine told you that she had a contact in the Navy who might be able to tell you how long they’d be here. You waited patiently as you tried to do your best to work and take care of Inés, trying to cheer her up when you’d tell her that you couldn’t go to the movies together or the grocery store. Or the park on the main street. It was getting harder and harder each day, especially since Inés, three days after you’d sworn off any of these places, had realized and didn’t want to go anywhere without you. 

She quickly decided to hibernate with you, and you honestly didn’t know if it could last long. 

Even more with John’s presence in the house, more often than not. He’d apologized a week prior, and you’d let it go because you didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Not now, at least. He’d stayed over that same weekend; he’d tried to talk to her, but Inés outright refused. She even insisted that she had to sleep with you every night of the weekend until finally John left. Most importantly, John wouldn’t even be allowed to use her bed; he had to sleep on the couch. 

As you looked down at your beautiful daughter, at her button nose, at those oh-so-familiar caramel eyes with flecks of green, her oh-so-familiar twisted soft pink lips, all wrapped together in that small frown as she slightly glared at you with her oh-so-familiar brunette golden hair in disarray, waiting for an answer, you knew that John would be complaining about his backache for at least a week. 

“I just don’t get why she doesn’t like me,” he says as he slurps slightly from his cereal bowl. You cringe at the sound but try not to mind as you close the door of your mother’s house. 

It was her night with your mom; part of you was grateful that she was in another place that wasn’t the house or her summer camp. 

“She just doesn’t know you that well. That’s all,” you pinch your nose as you curse mentally the heels that you’d to wear due to a meeting with a client. 

“That’s why I told you, both of you should come to LA with me; we can go to that Disney Park,” he insists on the other end. 

You wonder for a slight second, only a second, if he didn’t have anything else to do at work because you did, and he still decides to bring up this. You regret it immediately as you stop in front of your car, phone heavy on your hand. Men you’d dated before had run away from you the moment they found out about Inés; here was a man who wanted to spend time with her. 

“Yeah, I know,” you answer softly as you stare at the sky. The cues of orange were already reflecting on the clouds in the sky; the afternoon sun was warming up your skin, toasting it, making your soul sizzle slightly. 

For a second, you close your eyes, and you let yourself go back to that summer. To those afternoons where the sun stretched as much as it could, showering you with its light. Salt air kissing your lips. Clouds lazily drift by. Rhythmic, soothing melody of the waves rushing towards you. You can remember their touch as they’d kissed your neck, your skin, their lips rolling down your body. 

“Babe?” 

You gasped softly as you opened your eyes. “I’m here,” you answer, clearing your throat as you look around, hoping no one else has seen you. 

There were many moments throughout the years when you thought that you’d seen one of them. Jake more often than Bradley or Bob. Your heart always drops to your stomach, and your vision turns technicolor. Colors become so bright that you almost become sick. They, he, they always looked at you just in the way you liked those years ago. They didn’t age when you thought you saw them. 

That’s how you realize that it is him, passing by in a car you didn’t recognize. As your eyes lock with him, you know deep down that he is looking for you. 

“I have to go,” your voice could be barely heard; it’s not more than a whisper as your eyes are glued to the jeep that continues to drive. John might’ve heard you, you don’t know, but you also don’t care. 

Holding your breath, you hope that he will drive away, but he doesn’t. It parks a few feet away from you. Your heartbeat picks up as you see the door opening. You’d seen him a few times with the green jumpsuit. He looks a lot older now, a lot grown up. Grown-up, something about it makes you want to recoil. It doesn’t fit with the memories you have of him. 

He was supposed to stay twenty-five; you were supposed to stay twenty-three. The more times you see him now, the more it eats away those memories. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, a sudden cool evening breeze brushing against your skin as you stand in the street, washed in golden light. The moon was now peering over the edge of the horizon, casting a faint shadow to glow over the sky.

“I thought I’d pass by,” Jake replies, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia as he gazes at you. Those eyes staring back at you, just like they did seven years prior. 

There’s a brief moment when you can feel like you’re back there with him again. Seven years ago, you had your father; seven years ago, you were still innocent; you hadn’t gone through anything, managed to live your life prior to them unscathed, without so much as a crack. Now, as you stand there, you can feel it. 

All the cuts, all the breaks, all the different ways you were twisted and pulled back the way you’d to paste yourself back together for Inés.

Your face was stern, furrowing your eyebrows slightly. “You know what you sound like, right?” you ask. 

Jake’s lips tug slightly on the edges. He managed to see those parts of you seven years prior, hidden through a meekness you’d tried to push down those sharp edges of you. He likes that you let the sharpness come through now.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he admits, his voice ting with regret. “I hoped,” he says slowly; you roll your eyes at him. “I think I was the only one that came to your parent’s house, right?”

As soon as the words drop from his lips, you feel everything stop. Staring at him, your mind rumbles to look for answers to what he means. He has your rattle; he notices it. He knows your body like the back of his hand, every edge, curve, inch. He had it memorized seven years ago. There’s a part of him that’s relieved that he can still read you; he was afraid that he couldn’t anymore, even with this. 

“What are you -”

“I heard your name,” he interrupts softly, “Rooster and Bob were talking about you and how they know you.”

The silence is heavy as you stare at each other. There was a time when this was your worst nightmare, that either Bradley or, Bob or Jake found out about each other. You’d tried to handle it. None of them had asked you for anything else but what you had, and you hadn’t planned to ask for more. 

Until then, they did, until you did. 

“I don’t have to explain anything to you; you do know that, right?” you finally answer after weighing your options. 

Jake nods. He half-expected that answer after the domino of events that trail behind your relationship. 

His eyes examine you. Cheeks flushed, hair loose, the professional sleeveless black dress hugs your body perfectly. He’d imagined you like this: professional, beautiful. A little bit older, a little bit wiser. Sometimes he’d imagined what his life would’ve been like if he hadn’t fucked up as he did. 

But now, as he heard Bradley and Bob bickering about that summer. He realized that maybe he wasn’t the only one to blame. 

“So, it wasn’t only me that summer, and Bradley for that matter,” he says, his eyes flickering now to yours. 

The words come out of your mouth faster than you wished. “It was,” you sound definitive because you knew for a second it was before everything came tumbling down. But then again, you know it isn’t true, and you’d made the choices you’d made. You’d made your bed with all three of them. “I mean, I was also, you were.”

“Forgot that you avoid talking about feelings,” he murmurs, his eyes still fixed on you, the hint of a smile on his lips as he gives a step closer to you. 

Your eyebrows pinch. Memories of that fateful summer flooding back. You recall how confident he was, the charm that always seemed to follow him, and why you got stuck in his web. Anger floods back too, simmering in your chest, defensiveness, everything you don’t want to feel again and less for him. 

“I’ve changed; it has been seven years, and you only knew me for eight weeks.”

It’s filled with poison, you know it, and he does it too. 

“And I haven’t been able to forget you, honey,” Jake confesses, his voice filled with a melancholic longing as he gives another step. “Please, just hear me out,”

You smell the sandalwood, the lemon. You look up at him through your lashes, holding your ground, not moving an inch as you stare at him. He shouldn’t make your heart beat this way, not when it has been so long. And yet he does; he makes your body react. Perhaps it is the fact that he is looking at you like that; perhaps it is the way the sun is hitting you right now, but anger drains slowly as you feel him closer. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say softly, eyebrows still pinched. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t sound so soft when he’s around you, but the thought of him has been marinating for so long in your mind since you first saw him here again. His face is calm, but you can still sense the regret. 

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” Jake repeats, swallowing hard as his hand carefully comes up to your face; he does it carefully, as if not to scare you. 

A sound slips out of his lips as you lean into his touch. It doesn’t even cross your mind to move; you’re not too thrown off by his tenderness; you’d been craving it. 

“It doesn’t matter now,” you argue; closing your eyes, you let his skin touch yours. It burns you, from the inside out, the fact that you still crave his touch like this.

“Honey,” he breathes out. “Of course it does. What are the odds that you are here and I am here?”

He startles you. You open your eyes just as fast as you’d leaned into him. Staring at him, he doesn’t know what you’re hiding. He does not know what kept you here. You want to yell at him, the odds, you scoff mentally. The odds were that you got knocked up by one of them, the odds were that you couldn’t leave, and the odds were that you raised your daughter on your own. Even worse, the present odds. The odds are that if he, or any of them, find out what you’ve done, they might take Inés away from you. 

“Jake, stop,” you bite, taking a step back from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a moment. 

“Honey,” 

“You lied to me,” you pull away completely. “You lied to me, broke my heart,”

Jake frowns. He hates this. He hates that you run away, time and time again; you’ve always run away from him. Now that he knows, he just doesn’t let you go that easily. No, he can’t. 

“You lied, too. I mean, were you sleeping with-”

“Go,” you snap at him. Jake watches as you glare at him, your eyebrows pinched. He remembers the way your lips turn when you’re mad; he knows you. You aren’t mad right now. He stares at you, your long lashes, your golden skin. Eyes that he’d been seeing in his dreams since he left. Pink, plush lips. His eyes stay there for longer than before, and when he looks back at you again, you’re already staring. 

You know what he is about to do. 

 “I said, just go-” 

One, two, three steps, and he has reached you. His hand finds your hip and grabs at it roughly, cupping your jaw; his lips find yours. 

author's note: Thank you so much for your patience!!!!! I have so many questions about this fic because I've rewrote so many things. Need your opinions.

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[anystalker707]

Him with an s/o who works out (Zoro / Sanji / Ace)

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Portgas D. Ace x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Headcanons for how he acts about you working out cuz you wanna be strong too !! Tags: Zoro is a cool gym bro / Squeezing Zoro's tit / Sanji is a simp ! / Sanji knows nothing but he's excited / Ace is lazy af / Take care of Ace / Really tiny bits of suggestive content, nothing clear or relevant

A/N: as a gym rat, i couldn't help but write this

MASTERLIST

࿐ Roronoa Zoro

• Working out with Zoro goes two ways, basically with it shifting between who's going to lead the session since you two like to train together, but not always have the same routine—it can be both entertaining or torturing

• With Zoro, he’ll focus more on training his upper body despite not neglecting leg day (thankfully), so expect calloused hands plus barely being able to use your arms right after you finish working out—Zoro uses it as an excuse for not fucking showering, but you’re not letting that happen, not under your watch

• Being weak from tiredness also has Sanji offering to feed you since you can’t overload yourself, but he will stop as soon as Zoro says he either leaves or feeds him as well, so Sanji doesn’t risk

• Probably a lot of mobility exercises as well, and it has both of you quietly counting in unison as you stretch/practice in sync, which once had Chopper hypnotized in the corner as he watched the two of you count together to ten before changing positions and repeating it

• He will always be adding more weight because he knows you can handle it and, in the back of his mind, he doesn’t want to feel guilty if something happens to you because he couldn’t help you become strong enough. So, even if he’s really careful about you, he’ll always be sneaking on an extra plate if you don’t pay attention

• “Zoro, I saw what you did...” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Zoro...” “You’re going crazy.”

• Very good spotter. Has fast reflexes, hence if the bar threatens to slip during benching, he’ll hold it straight away, but not without complaining about you being more careful (you’ll either start bickering or you’ll send him a glare that’ll make him shut up immediately

• Will want you to sit on his back so he can do push ups, and it’s amazing how he does it as if you weren’t there. Simple thing, but very bonding, honestly

“I’m not gonna handle it! Not yet!” You furrowed your eyebrows, watching upside down-Zoro raise an eyebrow at you as he held some plates in hand that, by your math, would result in more weight added to the bar than you’d asked for.

“Yes, you are!” Zoro nodded with a hum. “Your performance is perfect already and you can go up to 12 reps, that means you’re ready for more weight.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That’s not— Just... no.”

Zoro rolled his eyes with a sigh and stepped back. “Okay, fine, fine.”

Shaking your head, you pretended not to notice the soft clinking of the plates that he did add to the bar. Yes, he was right, but you felt like waiting a little longer until you could actually progress, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, even more with him spotting. The new weight was evident when you raised the bar off the rack after a couple of minutes determining whether your hands were in symmetric positions or not, and he carefully let you hold it by yourself. Nonetheless, you could manage to finish 8 reps

“Atta (girl/boy)!” He grinned while helping you rerack the bar. You shot him a look, which he of course pretended not to notice.

The second series wasn’t as fine since your muscles were already complaining by the end. Maybe it still left you enough energy for one more. Or not. By the middle of the third series, the weight had your muscles locked for a couple of seconds before you pushed the bar, and Zoro’s hands immediately showed up besides yours, only hovering over the metal.

“C’mon, only four to go! Four, three...”

A hiss escaped your lips at how your muscles threatened to give up, though only losing balance considerably because Zoro’s desperation startled you and dispersed your focus. “Zoro!” You groaned, lifting the bar to rerack it so you could sit up and glare at him. “I already told you I’m not dropping the bar just because I took a little longer to lift it!”

“Better safe than sorry, dumbass!” He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms—stubborn asshole.

“‘Wouldn’t be so difficult if someone hadn’t racked some extra pounds.” Your eyes narrowed at him, able to catch on how he widened his eyes and tensed his shoulders despite trying to hide it. “I’m going to add 100 extra pounds to your leg press tomorrow and we’re doing ten extra minutes of cardio!” His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he tried to argue, only to fall silent with a big pout at the way you looked at him, despite still scowling.

• As much as you may not like it as well, you usually have cardio days when you’re the responsible one for the day

• “We don’t need cardio. It won’t make you stronger.” “You literally need it a lot, Zoro. We are always running around. Remember back in Skypiea when Enel—” “...Okay, okay, I understand.”

• You’ll be just as rigorous with him when it comes to spotting or checking his performance

• A few squeezes on his ass can help him when he’s struggling a little too much with his squats, even if he complains a little and insists that his face is red because of working out and not because you’re groping him

• “...(Y/n).” “Mind to muscle connection is important, I’m touching the muscle to show you what you’re working.” “You’re straight up just groping my tit.” “Shut the fuck up?? I’m just doing my job??”

• He does like it tho—he’ll feel like something is missing and complain that you aren’t paying proper attention to him when you’re not following every movement of his and touching him the whole time

• Bonus for slapping his ass in the “good job, bro” way in the end of the sessions

• “My quads hurt.” “Mine don’t.” “You didn’t train hard enough, that’s why.” "Shut up, Marimo!”

• “My ass hurts, but not in the way I want it to.” “...I can... um, change that?” Zoro says matter-of-factly.

• Careful with what your sparring sessions can turn into. It can be either very good or very bad.

• Also, challenges as in “can you bench/deadlift/pushup each other?” and sometimes he’ll carry you by having you sit on his shoulder and— fuck, what a man, really

“Last one, Zoro! Go low!” You cheered once he took a pause a few seconds longer than usual, extra carefully following his squat while you stood right behind him with your hands hovering under the bar, right next to his hands. “C’mon, strong boy!” He went down, but wouldn’t come up; grumbling escaped through his gritted teeth, something among the lines of ‘if it were so easy...’, but you didn’t even bother catching on to all of it. “I said c’mon!” Your hands met his ass with strength enough to have him standing up real fast.

“(Y/n)!” Zoro shouted, messily dropping the bar as fast as he could to turn back and glare at you; it wasn’t that effective, not like he wished, with that red flustered face.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

࿐ Vinsmoke Sanji

• Waking up early in the morning along with Sanji so you can work out !! He’ll be happy to prepare you a breakfast that’ll give you all the energy you need to start your day the right way

• Can and will come to watch you train at the crow’s nest if he has time, just the biggest simp that’ll have nosebleeds every five seconds and observe you as if you were some sort of deity

• At first complained on ‘why do you have to train with stupid Marimo’, but got pretty pleased when he saw you are able to kick Zoro’s ass during a sparring match, so from now on he is all giddy and proud of it, no matter what you say

• Will prepare your meals to make sure they have all the protein you need and remind you to eat before and after working out <3 taking care of the love of his life gives him so much serotonin

• Something. There’s something about watching you lift weights that has Sanji all flustered and melting and simping real hard. Knowing his s/o is strong—strong enough to carry him, even—has him all mushy and soft. Sometimes he’ll be lying down on the ground for a little too long so you can lift him and he can act like he’s the best person in the world for having you carrying him like that

• Also when you throw him over your shoulder. He’ll scream

• He’d also be very proud his s/o is able to defend themself <3 you can give him a punch in the face anytime and he’d just thank you. kick him, too. please. you wouldn’t have the courage to, tho. maybe just slap his ass sometimes to keep him humble and happy because he needs it

• Don’t. Don’t ask him to spot you or check your performance.

• “Was my performance okay?” “Uhhh, yeah....” (Sanji just stared at your ass or your chest the whole time </3 better ask Zoro next time

• If you wanna break him, ask him to feel the muscle you’re working during chest or thigh series

• Do ask him to help you stretch, by the way. Sanji will be very happy to push your back so you can touch your feet. Not to mention that he will join you on stretching sometimes !! Also will train with you on leg day now and then

• After arm day, though, when your arms are too weak to even take a proper shower, count on him for help. Will do everything he is able to in order to help you. Sometimes he will let you struggle if you complain too much then come back with the worst cynical expression you’ve ever seen. Little fucker

• If you have long hair, he will come back to find you with messy hair after a shower. First time it happened, he asked what happened and put himself into helping as soon as you explained your arms felt way too tired to brush your hair—he’ll do it himself, all happy to be taking care of his s/o

• When you’re in good form, do pamper him by helping him lift the big boxes of food for the ship’s storage, though. You’re strong, yes, and he may not want you to waste your energy with stuff he can do, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be swooning or following you with heart eyes and clasped hands if he sees you helping him around like this

• Lots of compliments in general <3

• “You’re doing so great, l’amour de ma vie! Simply perfect! You look just like a powerful deity!”

• Expect massages at night if you’re hurting

“Hey, Sanji, pretty boy,” you breathed as you poked your head into the kitchen, still with sweat coating your skin despite the towel around your neck. “Are you free?”

“I’m always free for you, mon amour!” He crossed his arms with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes a little—you knew he would be answering ‘in a second, mon amour!’ instead if he were otherwise busy, no way he’d let any little bit of food go to waste. “Okay, well, can you come up to the crow’s nest real quick? Zoro is using all the weights again.” Sometimes it wasn’t true, you just liked having him there while you trained. Sanji would complain about it, cursing ‘stupid Marimo’, but he was actually happy it granted him more time with you.

Back in the crow’s nest with Sanji, you went over to where you left your water and other stuff, where you wouldn’t bother Zoro, and cleaned the sweat away as best as you could before lowering to the ground. You did a few experimental push ups then glanced back at Sanji; he sat on your back with crossed legs. In the first times, he would shift around a little until he found a comfortable position, something that didn’t even happen anymore.

Of course Sanji had one of his silly little recipe books with him, busying himself with reading it while you used him as the perfect weight for your push ups. He would be muttering under his breath as he read, sometimes in French, and you couldn’t make out every word under the sound of you and Zoro counting out of sync, but you still loved hearing it. Sometimes, someone would go up to the crows nest looking for any of you three, and Sanji would always make sure to be noticed.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

࿐ Portgas D. Ace

• Either works out with you religiously or is very lazy to do it. Like, will drag you or be the one being dragged, also won’t care about a lot about following a diet and lets you plan your workout

• If Ace isn’t working out with you, he’ll be there to keep company and cheer for you, wipe the sweat away from your forehead or grab you some more water. Very sweet, he loves seeing you taking care of yourself and growing stronger, be sure he is very proud <3

• Ace certainly needs your help most of the time because his performance would probably not be the best, so he’d often hear “straighten your back,” “go slower,” “are you even counting?” “what fucking exercise is that, where did you learn that shit? I don’t want you injured!”

• Probably will do it wrong on purpose sometimes because he likes the attention. Just a silly little boy who likes having you holding his arms while you guide him through the sitting shoulder press. Literally the meme ‘kicking my feet in the air because they wished me a good day at the gym <3’

• He is flexible. Just by the way he crouches down, you can notice he has a lot of mobility, which sometimes leaves you jealous of how well and deep he can squat with a heavy bar on his back for someone who cares so little about it—Ace works out mostly so he will not fall out of shape because he mainly gets stronger from his offensive close-range combat. Either way, he is not entirely flexible, but will complain a lot about stretching

• Actually doesn’t need to train cardio, and you know better than to insist

• Sometimes, Ace is too anxious and shifty, so you’ll just ask him to come train with you because it always manages to knock him off right away when you’re finished, also helping him release the stress

• You’re the one taking care of him after you two workout because he’ll probably just pass out, sleep at the same moment he finishes the last exercise or even at the moment your eyes drive away from him

• “Ace, you still got two series of benching. ...Ace? Are you even awake?”

• Sometimes he’ll be like “I’ll work out everyday this week with you, don’t worry,” then actually do it only ONE single day and never again that week. He’ll show up in the middle of your workout sessions eating something, and immediately pause when you notice his presence, starting to walk backwards quietly—even Marco tried to convince him to get more compromised with it at least to keep you company, but just give up. Some weeks, it’s easier to find Ace passed out, snoring with his face in a plate of food rather than at least lifting a dumbbell

“Six... Seven...” You huff out each number whenever your body comes up just to go down again for another pushup; the edges of a heavy plate dig into your back to make your exercise count for something.

While still muttering the numbers, you hear footsteps approaching. It’s Ace, of course. He’s about to come closer with a sandwich stuffed half into his mouth, walking as if he didn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep. At the moment his eyes meet yours, he stops and his mood falls, sweat-dropping whilst he starts to walk backwards without the cheerfulness he had when approaching.

Later, Ace sits beside you when you’re sitting in the kitchen, waiting for your snack after having just taken a shower. “I’m sorry, my love!” He whines with a hug, pouting dramatically.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, sure,” you tease because it’s so fucking funny when he’s overreacting over minimal irrelevant things like this.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke #portgas d ace #portgaz d ace #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #imagine #oneshot #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #fan fic #fan fiction

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Anonymous: <p>hello, can you write something about reader being a die hard fan of joe burrow and making travis jealous </p>

You were running a few minutes late to meet Olivia and Joe at a local brunch spot in Kansas City. “Hi!” you ran up to Olivia, who stood up to envelop you in a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!” Joe gave you a soft smile as he stood up to give you a side hug. You and Olivia had been best friend since middle school, but life had separated you the last couple of years. You had moved to Kansas City to work as a marketing specialist for the Chiefs and Olivia had moved to Cincinnati with Joe when he started playing for the Bengals after college. You had finally gotten a chance to meet up when they were in town.

“Where’s Travis?” Olivia asked casually as you waited for your meals to come out. “He had some other commitments.” You tried to keep his excuse simple, so Joe wasn’t suspicious. Joe wasn’t so easily fooled. “You don’t have to lie. I know he hates me.” You gave Joe a sympathetic smile, adjusting in your seat. “He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t even really know you.” You took a sip from your water, the gulp hiding your discomfort. Travis did hate Joe, but not because of some petty football rivalry. He hated Joe because you used to date back during his early days at LSU. It was a short fling that only lasted a couple of months, and nothing ever came from it, but when Travis found out, he immediately saw red. It took a lot to make Travis jealous but knowing that one of his biggest opponents had kissed or even held hands with his girlfriend made him sick to his stomach.

“You guys are still coming to the event right?” you asked trying to change the subject. You were hosting a party to celebrate Travis’ Super Bowl win and hoped that everyone could put the past behind them to celebrate your boyfriend’s success. Olivia answered for the both of them. “Of course, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I don’t know why he even has to come. Won’t this be a reminder of the fact that he didn’t even make it far in the playoffs?” Travis asked arrogantly, smug that he had his second Super Bowl ring while Joe didn’t. You adjusted his tie too tight, so he choked a little. “Can you just behave? Joe is a class act, he can put pettiness aside. Can you say the same thing?” Travis shrugged on his jacket as he looked at himself in the mirror. You slipped on your heels, putting the final touches on your black-tie look. “What did you ever see in him in the first place?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into it tonight. This topic had been the subject of many a fight between you and Travis in the past, and you just couldn’t see why he couldn’t let it go. “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I was young and dumb, and he was in my econ class. There really wasn’t much too it.”

“Would you still be with him if you hadn’t left LSU?” Travis turned to look at you. “What? Of course not. I told you, we were not compatible.” Your boyfriend wasn’t convinced. “Why not?” You walked to your closet to grab your clutch, Travis following behind you. He had you cornered, and you were starting to get pissed off. “What do you mean?” you tried to push past him, but he stepped in front of you. “Why were you not compatible?” You sighed and rolled your shoulders back. “Because, he was kind of a shallow asshole, and I just wasn’t interested in being second to football.” Travis liked that response, grinning. “Can you let this go now?” you placed your hands on his chest, pulling him in for a kiss. “I guess.”

Travis had convinced himself that he had won, and he could let the whole Joe thing go, but as the night progressed, feelings of jealousy were starting to creep back in. The four of you were seated at the table, the dinner well under way and going well. Speeches from Jason and Travis’ fellow teammates had people in stitches, and people were starting to get rowdy, the open bar lowering many people’s inhibitions. You had been watching Travis all night. He wasn’t usually a drinker, but he had been throwing back multiple beers all night, and you could see him eyeing Joe across the table in a way you didn’t like. You placed a hand on his thigh and leaned into whisper in his ear. “Everything okay?” He nodded, keeping his eyes on Joe. It wasn’t long before he started trouble.

“So, Joe, Y/N told me that you and she used to date?” He raised an eyebrow, slurring his words slightly. Joe immediately blushed, dropping his eye contact with Travis. “Yeah, for like a hot second when I was a freshman. “Travis, please.” You begged him, but he was determined to knock the quarterback down a peg. “Well, why did you guys break up?” He looked around at the table, everyone visibly uncomfortable. “Uh,” Joe cleared his throat before continuing, “we uh just couldn’t make our schedules work. Y/N was very into her engineering studies, and I just wanted to focus on football.” Travis let out a curt laugh. “Really, because she told me that you were a dick bag to her.” You quickly turned your head to Travis, shocked that those words came out of his mouth. Joe shifted in his seat. “I promise you Joe, I didn’t say that.” Travis nodded his head slowly, the beers catching up with him. “You-You’re right. She said asshole. I just took some creative liberties.” Incredibly angry, you stood up and walked away from the table, hustling to the bathroom. “Baby, wait, where are you going?” Travis called after you, but there is no way he was going to be able to get up in his condition.

You tried to fix your makeup, your tears messing up the eye look you had spent hours working on ruined. Once you felt that you had recovered as much as you were going to you left the bathroom, immediately running into Joe. “You ok?” He could see that you had been crying. You let out a loud sigh. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Is Travis okay?” Joe looked behind him at where Travis was sitting. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. It takes a lot of beer to get a guy his size that drunk”, Joe joked, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m so sorry about tonight, he’s not usually like this. There is just something about you that sets him off.” Joe laughed, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think it’s about me, I think it’s about you. I can’t say I wouldn’t act the same way if I found out Olivia had dated one of my opponents. Doesn’t matter who it is.” You looked at Travis who was out cold on the table. “We’re gonna go home. Thanks so much for coming.” You gave Joe a hug before you grabbed Travis and headed to the car.

Travis woke up the next morning with the biggest headache, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He shuffled downstairs to find you eating breakfast at the table. “Hey”, he grumbled out. You didn’t respond, still too angry to speak to him. He plopped down at the table with a bottle of Gatorade. You looked at him, taking in his pitiful face, looking like he was constantly on the verge of puking. You broke the silence first. “Do you remember anything about last night?” He avoided eye contact. “Yes, I’m so sorry baby. I never should have acted like that, especially at an event. I embarrassed myself and you, and I hope you can forgive me.” “You need to call Joe and apologize.” He nodded fervently. He would do anything to make it up to you, including calling the dick bag. “And you need to apologize to Olivia, because you embarrassed her too.” “I will, today.” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What happened?” You weren’t angry anymore, just sad that Travis felt this way in the first place. He was silent for a moment before answering. “I’m always afraid I’m one step away from losing you.” “What?” you asked, willing him to continue. “I don’t know. You’re so amazing, and you’ve lived such a great life. I just sometimes wonder if you could do better, and when I found out you used to date Joe, I just got so jealous. It was just another reminder that you have had other loves before me, and you could in the future as well.” You tilted your head at Travis, letting out a laugh. “Is me baring my soul out to you funny?”

“Who said I was ever in love with Joe? I meant what I said yesterday. We dated for all of a month, and he was a complete asshole to me the entire time. We never would have made it. And he’s perfect for Olivia, they love each other. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” You got up and sat on his lap, Travis resting his head on your chest. “Besides, I don’t like quarterbacks. I’m all about the receivers.” Travis chuckled.

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine

[robinhobiii]

Antithesis

An-tith-uh-sis

noun

a person or thing that is the direct opposite of someone or something else.

Assassin! Minghao

A skilled assassin and never missing a single hit. That’s what Xu Minghao was. A man with few words and lets his weapons do the talking. So, it comes as a surprise to his other members when a cute and bubbly Y/n appears by his side on his off days.

They’re total opposites. Everything was polar opposite. From their clothes, music tastes to even their preferred food. Even though she was shy, she could talk so freely to him. His stoic face never changing as she smiled and talks about her day. At first his members thought it was to mess with them. But the more she came around, the less they thought about that.

Now they wanted to know, what was attracting them to each other? They understood the concept of opposites attracting but, they really couldn’t believe it. One of the most ruthless man they know on the team, was letting a pastel princess talk about her dilemma between a pink and white dress or lavender and white dress. It was almost outrageous at this point.

“Hao, so should I get the pink one or the lavender one?”

“Why not get both?” He said stoically.

“Huh? Both? I don’t have that kind of money to get both.”

“I’ll buy it.”

. . .

It was unknown to the boys on how those two met.

“Maybe, they met at the same bar?” Soonyoung suggested.

“No, no. They must’ve met at that one mall he likes going to.” Seokmin said.

“That expensive ass mall??” Seungkwan chipped in.

“Yeah, he’s always there to get his collection of black clothes.” Seokmin finished.

“No, obviously they met at one of his missions coincidently and now they’re inseparable.” Seungkwan said with a look of satisfaction.

Minghao snorted quietly as he heard their convo. That’s not how they met.

Minghao was currently in the frozen yogurt shop after just assassinating a politician and he was staring at his phone. He was waiting for the line to progress and looked up to see that the employees were putting the toppings in the containers.

“Sorry miss, there’s no more m&m’s.” The teenager smirked.

Y/n looked flustered because she just saw them restocking it. She couldn’t find the correct words to say. He saw it as well and he didn’t know what possessed him to defend her.

“We just saw you restock that huge bin of m&m’s.” His voice sent shivers down everyone’s spine. His lanky statue was helping his intimidating look.

“O-oh, are you two together?” The teenager suddenly stuttered out.

“Yeah, would you hurry up.”

Soon they both walked out with two frozen yogurts, one with m&m’s and the other with Oreos.

“Uh, t-thank you for helping me back there.” She shyly said.

“It’s nothing.” He said as he started to walk away.

“W-wait.”

He turned around to face her. She smile softly and Minghao was convinced that was what an angel looked like. “I can’t just let you go without repaying you. You payed for my cup. Let me repay you somehow”

He smirked. “So, a cutie like you can talk for yourself.” He chuckled. “Sure.”

And that’s how they met. She’s been stuck to him since then. He didn’t mind as she added that sunshine he’s been missing in his life. Innocent ole y/n of course didn’t know what he did for a living. Of course she questions and he said that he worked for the company “Highlight,” as a consultant in financial department. She don’t really believe him since he was covered in tattoos. He could tell that she didn’t believe but he didn’t push, because it was the truth. He did work as a consultant in the morning at Highlight. At nighttime though, that was a different story.

. . .

“Hao, we should see the fireworks tonight.” She said as she stuffed her face with chips.

He smiled at her puffed up cheeks and brushed the extra crumbs away from the corner of her lips. She blushed as the turned away.

“Sure.”

Soonyoung looked at him with wide eyes.

“Eissa, you just said you don’t want to go.”

“Well now I do.”

“I’ve been telling you since last month and you’ve been saying no.”

“I want to go now.”

Soonyoung simply squinted his eyes. “Y/n, would you like to join me and the others on a trip to Busan?”

“Sure! Who else is going?” She smiled softly.

“Me, Seungkwan, Seokmin, Hansol, and Channie.”

“Sounds fun, when are you leaving?”

Minghao looked like he was going to murder him. “No”

Y/n looked at him confused and Soonyoung simply smirked.

“She won’t be going, unless I go. And quite frankly I don’t want to go on a trip with you morons.”

“She can come if she wants to. You’re not her guard dog. Y/n wants to come, so let her. You don’t own her.” Soonyoung said with that same smirk.

He knew that he was pushing his luck with Minghao, but he wanted to know where Minghao’s and y/n’s relationship stood. And by the looks of it, Seokmin and Seungkwan will be owing him his $100.

Minghao scoffed. “She’s mine. She’s my person and she knows me the best. And I know her the best. So I know she doesn’t need to spend time with you jerks.”

“Ouch, could’ve been more nicer, hao hao.” Soonyoung mocked.

Minghao stared daggers at him and walked away by grabbing y/n’s hand.

“Let me know by Friday y/nnie!!” Soonyoung yelled out as they walked out of sight.

. . .

Okay, maybe he liked her more than a friend.

He liked how their hands would accidentally brush against each other when they sat next to each other. Or how she would cook for him when he was too tried from work. Being with her felt a little too domestic and he was getting too used to her. He wants to be showered by her sweet affection.

She remembered that he really like tea and bought him a tea set with new tea cups. So naturally, he bought her a designer bag since he saw her eyeing it on her phone. Or one time she remembered that he didn’t like iced water with his food, so he took her to China to try all sorts of food with him. He remembers that she was very flustered and try to talk him out of going but he secretly took her there. Some (his members) would say that he kidnapped her there, but he didn’t see it that way.

He was enamored by her and wanted to be by her, protect her, love her. Her sweet laughs that would linger in his head and how he would be stuck in a day dream while on missions. When Seungcheol heard that he was almost a second late in killing targets, he was not too pleased. And so he said those forbidden words.

“You need to leave her.”

“I’m not going to.”

“She’s becoming a distraction to you. You’re named one of the best assassins for a reason.”

“The day you leave your wife, is the day I’ll leave my beloved y/n. ”

There was silence in the conference room. The other members shocked into silence. Minghao and Seungcheol were similar in a sense that they were too stubborn. Though Minghao was more quiet about his stubbornness, he was a lot bolder when it came to his decision.

“You can’t ask me to leave y/n, when you yourself are married. She means the world to me like how your wife means the world to you.”

“Very well then. You make a good point, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re distracted. You’ll need to fix that, other wise there will be severe consequences.”

. . .

Y/n was pacing around her living room. It’s been two days since she’s heard from Minghao. She was getting worried by the second and wanted to make sure he was fine. There was an increase of violence since two of the biggest mafia families were at war currently. Police advised people to make sure that they locked their doors and no one should leave their house after 10:00 pm. she sighed and was deciding if she should go to his apartment. It was almost 10:30 and she knows she shouldn’t be out but she was worried for him. She looked at her door.

Ah, whatever. She’ll be quick.

She quickly entered his apartment. Luckily there was no activities outside so she was able to make it to his home. However, he was not home. When she rung his bell, he didn’t answer, so she let herself in. She looked around and found him no where in sight. She sat down on his couch and called him again. He of course didn’t answer. To calm her nerves a bit, she decided to watch some tv.

She began to flip through some of his channels. Some channels would be interesting for 5 minutes before she moved on. She landed on the news channel. Just as she was about to skip to the next channel, something peaked her interest.

“There’s been a three way accident on the high way tonight.” The reporter said.

“The accident was so severe, that three lives were taken. The others were severely injured and were taken to the hospital. One of the cars was a black Bentley with the number 8 engraved on to the tire rims.”

She froze.

Minghao has a black Bentley. And his favorite number was 8. Heck, even his friends called him “The8. ”

Y/n was hysterical. She was crying hysterically. No wonder he wasn’t picking up his phone. He was gone and she didn’t even tell him how she felt about him. That made her cry more. He cared for her and all she wanted to do was to return his love the same way. She doesn’t know how long she was cry for before she heard:

“Baobei, why are you crying?”

Great. Now she was imaging his voice. She can’t believe she was already loosing her mind. So, it made her cry even more.

“Baobao, look at me.” Suddenly his fingers pulled her chin up and she met his eyes.

Minghao . . ? Was here? In the flesh..?

She leaped into his arms and nuzzled her face into his neck. Her crying got worse.

“Why are you crying? Hm? Can you tell me who made you cry?” He said as he caressed her head.

“You!”

He was confused. “How so, beibei?”

She couldn’t make a coherent sentence and babbling on. Minghao rubbed his hand on her back.

“I thought you died!” She finally said.

He remained silent. “You didn’t answer my calls for two day, so I came over and didn’t find you here either. So I wanted to watch some tv to relax and I see that there’s been an accident with a black Bentley with 8 engraved on it. . And you have a Bentley and I know your favorite number is 8. It made too much sense. It was awful, hao.” She cried out.

He consoled her more before moving her to his bedroom and sat her down next to him. He wrapped his arm around her and said “I’m sorry for making you worry. There was some issues with the financial department at the office. I couldn’t back to you, I’m so sorry bao.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” She said as the cry was slowly settling down. “I would’ve had so many regrets if you did leave.”

“Why’s that?”

“I. . I really like you hao. You make me feel so special and so protected. I want to be with you always. I wanted to tell you that even though I know you don’t really like me back. I still appreciate your kind actions.”

He was shocked. The beautiful girl he’s been crushing on, likes him back?

He chuckled softly before pulling her chin up again. “Who said that I don’t like you either. I don’t just let anyone put pink eyeshadow on me with glittery rhinestones.” She smiled softly at his words.

“I let you do anything to me because I love to being your presence. I like that satisfied smile you get when have your way with me. Y/n, you make me want to be a better man.” He wiped away the remaining tears and said “I really like you too. And I’ll never leave you.”

With that, he placed a warm kiss on her lips.

. . .

There were multiple cars chasing him.

“Hyung, they’re gaining on me.”

Seungcheol was huffed before he said, “drive further down, Mingyu and DK are already waiting for you.

As he was going a 115 mph on the high way, a cat suddenly appeared. He may kill people for a living, but cats, were the only exception. He braked a little too hard, cause the cars behind to crash into him. Luckily, his driver door wasn’t hit so he quickly got out as the smoke bled into the air. Made his way towards the rugged road and walked into the forest. With some miracle, he was able to make it to Mingyu and dk.

“Hao, your arm!” Seokmin yelled out. His arm was slightly bruised and was bleeding a lot.

“Just go! They’ll try to find me.”

He went to Joshua, who patched him up, and got prescribed medicine from him. The underground hideout was quite chaotic as they were trying to delete him walking out the vehicle and trying to track who was following Minghao. “I gotta go.” Minghao said as he carefully stood up. “I’m going to head out and shower.”

Seungcheol nodded as helped his brother walk to the door. “Be safe.”

. . .

Y/n was laying her head on Minghao shoulder. Their hands were intertwined and Minghao brought them up to his lips to give her hand a kiss.

“Ha! I told you so!” Soonyoung said excitedly.

Seokmin and Seungkwan grumbled in disappointed.

“I really that it was a joke between them.” Seungkwan whined out.

“I shouldn’t have listen to you.” Seokmin pouted out. “I was right the first time and I was influenced by you.” He whined again.

“Me?! You just like following everything I say! That’s your own fault, not mine” Seungkwan said offendedly.

“I’m not a follower!”

“Yes you are!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh huh!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh huh!”

“Seungkwan, I’m going to take you through hell. Take it back.”

“Never.”

Minghao snickered at them. He looked down at y/n where she also met his eyes. They both smiled and he pulled her in closer.

He kissed the side of her head and said “I won’t ever leave you, bao.”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen #svt x reader #minghao x reader #xu minghao #xu myungho #minghao #svt minghao #minghao fluff #minghao fanfic #minghao imagines #seventeen minghao #svt joshua #seungkwan #svt dino #svt junhui #wonwoo x reader #dokyeom #jihoon x reader #mingyu #svt imagines #seungcheol x reader #svt jeonghan #hoshi #jeon wonwoo #seventeen mingyu #svt vernon #lee chan #seventeen imagines

[viridianevergarden]

The Comforts of the Night

A/N: So I haven’t written anything serious in like 2 years but my elriel hunger is unfathomably ravenous so I decided to take a crack at it. This little fic focuses more on Azriel and is told from his POV. It’s a what if scenario that I hadn’t really bothered to specify precisely when in the story this would ever take place so 💀 Enjoy, I hope.

Word count: 3.5K

Ship: Elriel

Key: light fluff, angst

Possible triggers: Elements of poor self loathing/esteem, light mentions of blood and suggestive things.

• • •

It had been a long day for Azriel, so unbearably long. Such was commonplace for him, however, as being the Night Court's Spymaster unyieldingly commanded the workload.

His muscles had ached from stress nearly all day, though he effortlessly paid no heed, not until now. A part of him had wondered how, after centuries of the same work, his body hadn't become adapted to it. He couldn't deny that he worked more nowadays than he had ever done, especially with the threat of the incoming war growing ever closer.

Work had been unforgiving for a long while. The requirement of always leaving Velaris to go to war camps, courts, or even the continent had always been something Azriel loathed and wished he never had to do. Yet now, for a time, he had returned home to Velaris. As for how long he would stay, he had no idea. Orders alone had determined that factor and even those were ever changing.

The wind's chill nipped at Azriel's wings as he flew across the clear starry sky, peering down at the warm lights that littered Velaris' buildings and streets. Fewer people were out and about at this hour, and yet the city looked as lively as it did in the day. Perhaps some were going home after a fun night at a local bar, or others were merely enjoying the ever-beautiful scenery on a late-night walk. If only he had the free time to do so as well, he'd thought.

After circling the proximity of Velaris once over, he banked into the direction of the Townhouse. He would sleep there only for the night and leave again come dawn. As of late, Azriel had avoided staying at the Townhouse, at least for longer periods. But to his dismay, sleep softly called out to him, just as his shadows so often would.

From overhead, Azriel could see the Townhouse's gardens as he approached, making note of the newly planted flowers and sprouts that rimmed the tall hedges within.

It had been over a week since he was last in Velaris. Being here now, seeing the progress that had been made, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder about the one who tended to the gardens itself. He wondered about how she was doing, what else she was up to, and if she was doing alright.

His eyes continued to scan the gardens until they locked onto a pale mass of lilac, golden brown, and cream sitting upon one of the stone benches. The Shadowsinger knew exactly who it was. It was as if his thoughts of her had miraculously willed her into existence. The very girl that had constantly plagued his mind, plagued his mind just then.

But why was Elain in the gardens alone in the dead of night? On a chilly one no less? He had known Elain to be one to stay up late on occasion but being alone in the gardens at this hour was new.

Thoughts of what to do flit through his mind, contemplating whether to bank now and go inside before she noticed him or to see her— To talk to her and revel in the moment, to see if she is okay.

Desire wrestled with the fiends in his head, the ones that told him he shouldn’t. That told him he should go inside and sleep. To forget what he saw and stay away. That there was no need for someone like him to speak to someone like her.

Although it seemed that his mental war was all for naught. Quiet as his large wings were on the wind, it seemed as if Elain could still hear him coming from miles away. Like she had already known he was coming.

Her beautiful face turned upward in his direction, brown eyes wide in recognition. It was too late to turn away now. The female remained in her place, daring not to move as Azriel had landed a short distance away on soft feet. He flared his wings once before folding them in and tucking them closed.

They stared at one another before Elain bit her lip and spoke, “You’re back.”

Her voice was quiet and soft, and Azriel took a moment to just… Listen. His shadows had pooled to his feet at the sweet sound. Like they were in need of retreat.

He swiftly ducked his head to nod, “I am.” It wasn’t enough of an answer, not for her. “For now. I’ll be leaving again at dawn.”

“Oh… I see.” Elain’s eyes darted away from him as her hopeful expression faltered. “You must be tired, so I’ll–” Azriel shook his head.

She looked him up and down in worry, searching his eyes for some form of an answer.

“I’m fine.” He angled his head toward the flower sprouts across from them. “They’re coming along nicely.” A smile twitched onto Elain’s lips, and Azriel had known then that she was well aware of the subject change.

“I planted them a few days ago.” Right after he left if he had to guess. “They’re moonflower sprouts. They bloom after dusk until dawn.”

Azriel offered her a gentle smile, recalling that they were indeed one of the flowers that she had spoken about a time before. He could remember as much with little effort.

“Sit with me?” The sudden request made Azriel’s brows twitch in confusion. Elain stammered, “If it’s no trouble, I don’t mind the company.”

Azriel shouldn’t— Shouldn’t— but he couldn’t say no, not to her offer. Not to her. He stepped closer as she scooted down the bench a little, allowing him space to sit and move his wings to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as anyone could get on a stone bench.

Being so close, the scent— Her scent of honey and jasmine was near enough to leave him intoxicated. His heart thrummed and he only hoped that she couldn’t hear it.

“Why are you outside this late?” The words slipped from Azriel’s lips faster than he could contemplate them.

Elain fumbled with the fabric of her lilac sleeping gown like she was thinking of what to say. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would come out here for a bit to get some fresh air.” A partial lie. He knew that much, and judging by her expression, she knew that he was aware.

Was Elain like him too? Did she have endless voices in her head? Were they the ones responsible for keeping her awake at night like they did him?

Azriel blinked, his hazel eyes sliding down Elain’s form. Just in her gown, no shoes or socks, no coat. Long, wavy, golden-brown locks draped over an exposed shoulder, over her creamy skin— “It’s cool out, you should have grabbed a jacket.”

Elain’s cheeks flushed at the realization as she quickly averted her gaze from him once again, taking interest in the moon-bathed pavement. “I didn’t think it would get this cold…”

The male took a moment to think, to think over his immediate thoughts, and determine what to do. Anything to avoid messing this up. But if she was cold—

“I’ll be alright, please don’t worry.” She had known, caught on too quickly. Elain had read him all too well. She always did, he realized.

Moonlit doe eyes stared back at him once more. Doe eyes… How beautiful they were. And her bright reassuring smile— it was more than enough to make him weak in the knees, bright enough to put even his shadows at bay.

Azriel’s lips parted in an urge before they quickly shut again, quickly willing himself to speak. “At least let me keep you from freezing.” He could provide that much at the very least, if she let him.

Before Elain could speak, the Shadowsinger slowly extended his wing behind her back, though careful not to touch her and not to disturb the blue hydrangeas behind them.

An offer.

She sucked in a breath that sent shivers down his spine and glanced back at the sight. She then slid closer to him, just a few inches. Close enough that their thighs nearly touched. That large wing gently— carefully— ever so slowly curled around her far shoulder, as if he thought that any careless movement could harm her.

His wings alone were not incredibly warm but they did help to retain some semblance of body heat in times of need. At the very least, they could protect from the wind.

“Thank you.” Sweet. Her voice was too sweet. Like a song. Azriel dipped his chin in response, not knowing how to respond properly.

“Your wings,” Elain paused for a moment, focused entirely on the one resting against her back and curled around her side. “Do they get cold too?”

A laugh nearly instantly slipped from Azriel’s lips. A low and quiet chuckle. “Sometimes. The cold’s bite can be relentless.”

Perhaps it was due to his laugh or some other thing, but Elain’s shoulders loosened in ease. A smile bloomed back onto her face as she peered up at him. “It was a silly question, I apologize. I’m just curious.”

“Curiosity is harmless. Never apologize for it.” The male smiled back at Elain. “If you have questions, you may ask freely.”

“Even if my questions are frivolous?” Elain joked with a small giggle, raising a curled finger to her lips.

Azriel’s warm gaze softened at the lovely sound— her laugh. “Even if your questions are frivolous.” A silly reassurance, but a reassurance nonetheless.

Elain hummed as she stared up at Azriel, that smile never faltering. The shadowsinger was the first to break eye contact, fearing that if he looked at her too long, he might do something foolish. That he might fall victim to his desires more than he already had this night. He looked up at the stars instead, for any manner of distraction. It was nearing an hour past midnight, judging by the moon’s positioning.

“If I may be so selfish to ask,” Elain’s voice called his eyes back down to her. “Could we stay here for a while longer?” Her tone was laced with meek hope. Azriel tilted his head in inclination, wondering why.

Elain clenched her fists and her lips trembled. She was searching for an excuse, anything not to seem impolite or desperate, it seemed. Before she could speak, Azriel had beat her to it.

“Yes,” He took a breath, “Of course we can.” Elain’s hands unclenched after hearing his confirmation, seemingly relieved by it.

They sat together in a comfortable silence for a while, merely enjoying each other’s company and the scenery that surrounded them. The silence was nothing new between them and it had never been awkward before but tonight, oh this night felt… Different. Here they sat, where only the stars might witness them, while all of Velaris slept.

Sleep. The shadows whispered into his ears. The girl wants to sleep.

Azriel turned his head to peer down at Elain, right in time to witness her dozing figure lean against his arm. He assumed it was hardly comfortable, given that he was wearing his Illyrian leathers, but…

He stared, stared at her. At the way the loose strands of her hair framed her face. At her long lashes and perfect nose. Her soft lips. Her lips—

Sleep. His shadows continued to beckon. Sleep.

Azriel knocked himself out of his trance, a small frown forming on his face.

He didn’t want to disturb her rest but it was getting cooler by the minute and this was no place to sleep safely.

“Elain…” His voice was barely louder than the soft breeze. But her name— Her name rolling off his lips—

Elain merely gave him a barely audible broken hum. She was falling into a deeper sleep by the second.

“We should get you inside.” He received no response and hadn’t expected one.

Azriel sat there for a moment to consider what he should do. He then loosed a quiet sigh and moved to pick Elain up. Carefully, ever so carefully did he crane one arm underneath her legs and the other to support her back. The sudden absence of his wing had caused her to cling to him, to any semblance of warmth she could find against the frigid air.

Her head rested against the black scales of his leathers as the male started for the doors that led back inside from the gardens. Silently, the doors opened for Azriel, by the work of his shadows no less. He passed the threshold and the doors closed, then he began his ascent upon the foyer steps.

The trip to Elain’s room was short and uneventful, thank the Cauldron. If anyone had seen— There would be no excuses to be made, no believable farce to cover how they had looked in the moment. And more importantly, to disturb Elain’s peaceful rest, Azriel wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for it.

His shadows had willed her bedroom door open, and Azriel nudged it further with his foot before heading inside. Hazel eyes scanned the view before them, taking in all the details of the room.

Perhaps it was due to his habit as a Spymaster to do so, to analyze every little thing in sight. Not that Azriel hadn’t long since memorized the entire layout of the townhouse, including the placements of any weapons within, but this room— this room was uncharted territory. He’d kept true about Elain’s right to privacy after all.

Elain’s room was clean and tidy, and had smelled so strongly of her— The old vanity desk in the far left corner was littered with stacks of books, he’d guessed, that covered the arts of gardening and botany. Several seed pouches lay scattered about, each labeled with names of different flora.

On the opposite side of the room was the massive canopy bed, centered against the wall. The bed itself was big enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. Such a thing had been the standard for every bedroom in the townhouse, but Azriel could only imagine how much better the extra space was for those without wings.

The rich wood end tables that flanked the bedsides had been adorned with smaller potted plants. Each were with little budding flowers in hues of pinks and blues, although they were closed for the night.

The ivory covers of the bed itself were a mess, and Azriel had guessed that she indeed must have tried to sleep before getting up— just as she had said before.

Azriel moved through the room and gently laid Elain down in her bed, pulling off the strands of hair that had snagged onto his leathers. Elain had hardly stirred during any of it, to his favor.

Scarred hands pulled the soft covers up to Elain’s shoulders and all the male could do was halt. He couldn’t help but stare. She had looked so… So peaceful. Beautiful. Even bathed in the silver moonlight that the bay windows had offered, she still glowed like the light of the sun at dawn.

He wondered, how could anyone not fall to their knees before her? How could they even think to hurt someone such as her? Someone so warm and sweet— Endlessly giving and full of light— So gentle and yet so strong—

The Shadowsinger thoughtlessly leaned down to take in her features, bracing his hand on the bedside to keep himself balanced. Elain remained ever so still, breathing slow and soft.

Oh, how he yearned to be able to hold her in his gentle embrace. Yearned to make her smile and laugh. Yearned to lay with her in warmth and comfort. Yearned to place his hand on her cheek and lift her chin the way he wanted, to lean down and press his lips against hers—

Azriel’s other hand had lifted, he’d realized, frozen merely centimeters from touching Elain’s soft cheek. His hand— Hideous splotched scars had consumed his vision, and plagued his mind like the terrible fiends did. Calloused and burned hideousness covered in the blood of many. A hand that did nothing but kill, maim, and hurt. One undeserving of anything such as this.

His hand quickly jerked away from Elain’s cheek and formed a fist back at his side, as if his own ugliness would singe her perfect face, her beauty. As if his ugliness would cast a shadow over her light and snuff it out for good.

Azriel stumbled back three steps, releasing a series of shaky breaths. His heart rushed and ached more than anything he had ever felt. Sickness fell to the pit of his stomach.

Leave. He needed to leave.

His wings tucked closer to his body as he turned, quickly and quietly making way for the door.

Stay. His heart pleaded. Please stay.

No.

No— He couldn’t— He shouldn’t—

Shouldn’t— shouldn’t— shouldn’t—

He didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve this.

No one could ever hope to deserve someone as perfect as Elain. Not even himself. No matter how much he felt for her. No matter how much his heart had stirred as heavily as the crash of raging tides. No matter how much his heart yearned for her love, her light, for anything at all.

Elain was not his to love. She was a mated female after all. One who was forcibly shackled to that wretched mating bond like a beast locked in a cage. But even then, oh then, she was not his. Never his.

Azriel silently closed the bedroom door and hastened down the hall, desperately needing some form of space. Of air. Anything to calm his raging and hurting heart.

He quickly reached his room on the opposite side of the house and retreated inside without a thought. Azriel couldn’t even bear to look at his hands, the horrid sight they were. How could he? How could he when he had been so close to tainting her flesh?

Fool.

A fucking fool.

He shouldn’t have been so stupid as to linger. To let himself go astray and even attempt to touch Elain. Especially when she was sleeping, when she was at her most vulnerable— Wrong, it was all so wrong. He should have just left her to sleep in peace the moment he tucked her in.

The Shadowsinger sauntered over to his wardrobe and slowly stripped the leathers from his body, unbuckling the countless amounts of leather belts and undoing all of the strings and buttons. One by one, each article was removed and tossed onto an empty table nearby.

This room seemed empty compared to Elain’s. Lifeless. Most of his things had been moved to the House of Wind, they had been for a while now. So this room was no more than a ghost of what it once was, but even so, it served its purpose well enough.

Leaving none but two siphoned gloves on his hands to rest, Azriel grabbed a set of night pants and slipped them on. He then walked over to his bed and laid atop the fixed covers, facing toward his window to view the sky. Near instantly did the pains of the day’s stressors set back in. He’d forgotten all about them when he was with Elain, he realized. That, and his exhaustion too.

Time always flew when he was by her side. All of his pains and worries seemed to go away in her presence. Everything felt so right when he was with her. But it was wrong. Still, it was wrong. So then why? Why was Elain forced with another? Why, when she felt so right with him instead?

Why were his beloved brothers, Cassian and Rhysand, blessed by the Mother? The Cauldron? With something so lovely, so sacred as love itself? As a bond— Something so few could ever hope to have, that many dreamt about, but Azriel was left alone?

Was he truly so horrible, so unlovable and undeserving that not even the gods could give him that blessing? Did Fate itself really hate him as much?

Azriel couldn’t understand, even when he tried so hard to steel his mind to the pain and misunderstanding. When he tried so hard to make himself think that maybe it’s just not meant to be, and that it was okay.

Happy as he was for his brothers, he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t prevent the pain and envy that so viciously ripped and tore and clawed at his heart like some ravaged beast. Like an unforgiving fiend.

Perhaps he had no right to love and be loved in return.

Perhaps he had no right to experience something as sacred as a mating bond. Not with anyone.

Perhaps Elain had never even begun to see him in the light that he saw her.

Azriel’s eyelids grew heavy and he could no longer fight the ever growing fatigue. His view of the moon outside had begun to fade to black.

Elain…

Her smile alone was the last thought that his clouded mind could muster before the darkness took him, just as it always had, body and soul. Just as he knew it always would.

#elriel #acotar #pro elriel #elain x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elain archeron #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #elriel fic #azriel and elain #elain and azriel #azriel x elain

[heartbrkr]

it'll last

SUMMARY Of course you fell for the playboy. Except, you didn't know he was the one everyone fell for; you didn't even know he was a player in the first place.

PAIRING fuckboy!lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

GENRE college!au, angst, hurt/comfort

WORD COUNT 1.7k

WARNINGS kind of toxic (?) relationship, mentions of drinking, sex, and castration, history of infidelity on haechan's side, lack of communication, the use of both haechan and donghyuck to address him

AUTHOR'S NOTE abe don't write hurt/comfort challenge: failed

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS: OPEN!

This wasn’t how Haechan was planning to end his Thursday night.

Your friend from your old school called him up, asking if it would be alright to drop you off at his place. He obliged, seeing nothing wrong with it, considering you’ve been inside his apartment a couple of times. But he retracted his statement as soon as another thought crossed his mind: he could pick you up instead. And somewhere among the noise on the other line, he could hear your drunken protests, letting them know that “you shouldn’t be disturbing Donghyuck! He’s probably tired.” He felt touched alongside a pang of guilt in his chest; you shouldn’t have to worry if he was tired or not, you’re also a priority.

To everyone else, he was Haechan. When he introduced himself to you as his given name and you spoke it back to him, he decided it was only for you to call. The same day, he was so sure he’d do everything to change for you.

The moment you saw the top of your boyfriend’s head getting out of his car, you ran into his arms, knocking him back very slightly. Now, you’re weeping into Haechan’s chest in the club’s parking lot and he doesn’t know why. He wants to ask you so many questions but your blubbering is getting worse by the second, you can’t hear him trying to gently console you. But through the sorrowful sea of your salty tears and muffled sobbing, he can make out the words “don’t leave” and “I can do better,” leaving Haechan visibly confused. Looking up to see your friends in the distance, he waves while giving them a reassuring smile.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” Despite this, you shake your head and he’s sure that your fresh snot rubbed on his tee, but he doesn’t care for its condition. He can always wash it. You are the only thing that matters to him at this moment (but even outside of this situation, you grace his thoughts).

He frowns to himself, “what do you mean by that? Are you just wiping your tears?” Your head moves side to side again. Thankfully, your crying progressively weakens even if progress is slow. Haechan patiently waits for your response, no matter how nonsensical it may be.

You finally detach yourself from his quite comfortable chest and try to look at his face. It’s hazy from the several shots and mixed drinks you had, but Haechan’s beauty knows no bounds. On both sides, it seemed like a miracle that you both managed to pull each other. But in reality, you were one damn good-looking couple.

“I know— I know about your reputation around campus.” Ah, yes, the elephant in the parking lot and your relationship. Before he got into whatever your current situation is, he was a notorious playboy. He’d talk to other people behind his partners’ backs, so very openly cheated on them. And yet, people still came flocking to him, giving him the opportunity to keep this lifestyle going. That did not include you. You knew people would use the I can fix him joke, but you didn’t know that people were dead serious about it when the topic of Haechan came up.

After a month of dating on the low, you finally found out tonight. At the bar’s counter, there was a clump of people from your university gossiping about the hottest men in the batch. You rolled your eyes, not giving a flying fuck as to who was the best at sex or how long they could go for. That was until they brought up Haechan’s name and had the audacity to call him Donghyuck.

A girl in a shimmering silver dress blows wind upwards, making a strand of her hair move to the side. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s talk about some real men: Donghyuck— or Haechan, whatever— is so fucking fine, like I’d ride his dick again, even if it means he’ll pretend not to know me the next day. Red is my favorite color, after all.” All of them laugh at that.

Hyesu, the only one you knew by name from the group, nearly slammed down her glass at the mention of him. “I know, right?! I thought I was the only one,” she opens her mouth to speak again, but not before making sure the coast was clear. She motions the circle to huddle closer, but it doesn’t do anything because the whisper comes out annoyingly loud, “you know, I heard that he turned down Karina… and I would personally dump whoever I’m dating for her!”

Another new, deeper voice makes your ears quirk up. As the conversation progressed, you learned that it was almost the whole school wanting to get a taste of him, like he was some sort of sacred food. Like two people ogling over him wasn’t enough. “God. He was so much more fun before he settled down, who is it, anyway? I haven’t gotten a taste of him, yet. He flirted with me once and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

As you wait for the drinks you ordered, which you wish would arrive a lot faster, you utilize your peripheral vision to get at least a glance of the people talking about your boyfriend. You hoped you were extremely hit and that you were just imagining their conversation, but you were far from it.

Another person from your course, who you know has a girlfriend, only talks to console her sad, drunk friend in purple. “Don’t worry, Mihn, I’m sure he’ll be available again in a week, or so.”

“When I talk to him again, I know I’ll have him wrapped around my finger.”

You blocked out whatever came after that sentence, welcoming the possibility of Haechan falling for someone completely new, going back to the bad habits you just found out about. Waking from your degrading self-talk, the bartender finally hands you the round of drinks, and you swore you saw a halo above his head. Tipping him two ₩10,000 bills, you thank him before rushing back to your table. When you sat down, breathing was nearly non-existent to you; it was as if you had substituted oxygen with alcohol. Your friends had asked if anything happened, but you only gave them a strained “fine!” before diving back into the variety of liquids in front of you.

How you got to your current state was self-explanatory. And it was embarrassing that you were practically begging for him not to leave you for a better person, if they ever existed. He would have received the opposite reaction if you were sober, probably interrogating him as to why he was treating you so well, like your relationship would last longer than a month. Instead, you looked pathetic, maybe even borderline obsessed. At the back of your mind, you knew you had it in you to be mad at him. But this was Donghyuck; the only man who could make you soft and vulnerable, that you would allow into your apartment without feeling any type of discomfort, who first asked if you both could take things slow, never crossing any boundaries.

“I found out… and… I— I know I should be mad that you didn’t come clean. But, maybe, you’d tell me it was obvious and should’ve listened to the people talking. I also just heard you go by Haechan, I would’ve never guessed that you were Mr. Playboy, or whatever the fuck!” You stop to breathe in deeply through your nose and out your mouth. This conversation was sobering, but not enough that you’ve completely lost all the liquid courage in your system. It would take much more than that.

You try to loosen yourself from the hands he has on your elbows, but they stay stubborn where they are. “I just— I want to know where our relationship stands, and if you’re serious. But at the same time, I’ve never felt this way with anyone else, so I want to know if I can change for you, to be the most perfect person for you to never even entertain the thought of someone else in my place. The fact that you asked to keep it low-key, too… I don’t know…”

The confident, yet sad, look Haechan has on his face provides you with a certain amount of comfort; one that reassures you that you are everything he could’ve asked for. “I’m sorry for making you doubt my intentions,” you don’t say anything, looking down at the dirty pavement, and he takes it as a sign to continue, “but the moment I met you at that party two months ago, I knew I had to change. I would never forgive myself if I let you slip away.”

If you thought your vision was bad earlier, the fact that there were now additional tears blocking your image of Haechan was even worse. You tried blinking them away, but they came out full force.

“I was the happiest when you agreed to date me; the way you smiled is forever imprinted into my mind. I’ll remind you every single day of my waking life that I am so sure about you.”

Haechan never wants to make you feel this way ever again. When he saw the defeated look on your face when you broke the news to him, it was a sight that he wishes he wasn’t the cause of. He regrets the reputation he built; he was so stupid to think he could ever hide it from you.

After absorbing his vow, you raise your hands to rub your tears, but he beats you to it. You can see a little better, and you’re thankful you can look at your lover as properly as an intoxicated person can. Your lips upturn the slightest, a witty line brewing right in front of Haechan’s eyes.

“If you ever think about doing something behind my back, I’ll castrate you.”

They’re back, Haechan thinks to himself, a smirk appearing on his mouth as well. “And that will never happen, my dear.”

You slap his arm— “don’t complain, you deserve more than that!” —before engulfing him in another loving hug. The warm, cozy scent of his mixes with the slightly gross smell of the dribbles of alcohol that stained your clothes. Somehow, it was more than enough to keep you back on the ground.

He rocks you back and forth to whatever popular song playing inside the club, both of you feeling the bass ever so slightly below your feet. A couple of minutes pass before he looks into your eyes again. “Ready to go?”

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Of course.” He holds you closer.

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #nct haechan #nct donghyuck #haechan x y/n #haechan x reader #haechan x you #lee haechan x reader #haechan x gn! reader #haechan x gender neutral reader #lee donghyuck x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #haechan imagine #haechan imagines #donghyuck imagine #donghyuck imagines #nct imagine #nct imagines #haechan hurt/comfort #haechan angst #haechan college!au #haechan fuckboy!au #haechan playboy!au

[angstysebfan]

My Roommate's Boyfriend - Chapter 7

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader AU: Modern

Chapter Summary: Things continue to get messy. Chapter Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Short chapter

Series Masterlist

--

We need to talk.

Bucky sighs looking at his phone, suddenly nervous. Maybe Nat was mad about him sleeping with you. Even they broke up, and she told him to be nice to you, but he knows he went a little too far. What if you spilt all the nasty things he said to you that day. Bucky took another long swig from the whiskey bottle, before responding to Nat.

I am outside your building. I know she doesn’t want to see me, so come out here and we will talk.

Okay. I’m getting her set up for a shower and then I will come out.

Bucky sat on the steps leading up to the main door of the building. His elbows are on his knees; his head is just hanging. He wonders what you are thinking about and what could have possibly gone wrong so quickly. He was so happy when he woke up this morning with you in his arms, and now? He doesn’t know what to think. Did you play him to get back at him?

Nat came out and sat next to Bucky on the stairs. She keeps her eyes in front of her and sighs. 

“Buck, you gotta tell me what the hell happened? I thought you were finally making progress?!” she yelled.

Bucky looks at the sky before he sighs, “I honestly don’t fucking know what happened. When we woke up we were fine! She acted happy about what happened at first, and…. I went to the bathroom to change and when I came out she was acting cold to me,” Bucky said, sounding defeated.

Nat shook her head and looked at him. “Do you really feelings for Y/N? Or is this just some game to get back at her for that night in the bar?” Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked at Nat. He scoffed in disbelief.

“You and I've been together for a year, Nat! You know me better than that! How could you fucking ask me something like that!?” Bucky yelled standing.

Nat stood as well. “Look, she's my best friend, and she's been hurt! I need to know if your intentions are as true as you say, before I attempt to help you win back your girl!” Nat said.

Bucky shakes his head and wipes a stray tear from his cheek. “Yes, my feelings for her are real. I was blinded by hurt and anger, but I think I've always had some feelings for her. I'm sorry if that hurts you. You've meant so much to me, Nat, but..."

"I think I always knew. There was a reason you could never ignore her. You always had to get her attention somehow. I personally think you both would make a good couple. Since this has all come to pass though you can't sleep in my room now." Nat says with a smile.

Bucky gives a breathless laugh. "Is that what she thinks though? That I lied to get her into bed? Is that what she really thinks of me?” Bucky starts to feel anger creeping up.

Nat walks up to Bucky and pulls him into a hug. His anger starts subsiding as he holds Nat tighter allowing some tears to fall. He hides his face in her neck and tries to calm down. When he does he looks at Nat and kisses her forehead in thanks.

Before Nat can react they both hear a voice, “What the fuck!” They both pull away from their embrace quickly to see you turning around and running back upstairs. Bucky doesn’t think, he runs after you, with Nat trailing behind. 

When they walk into the apartment, you're gathering your things. “Y/N, wait! What you saw–” “I don’t care what I saw James. It doesn’t matter. All it shows is that I was right and you are the biggest asshole in the world!” you said, interrupting him. Bucky slowly walks toward you.

“Y/N please, just talk to me! I don’t understand what the hell happened! What did I do to piss you off so badly? I thought we were happy!” He pleads.

You look at him with fire in your y/e/c eyes. You ignore him and look at Nat. 

“I don’t blame you, so don’t worry Nat, but I called an Uber and I'm going to the airport now. All I want now is the key to my apartment.” You say looking back at Bucky. You hold out your hand waiting.

Bucky just looks at you with sadness in his eyes. Finally he sighs defeatedly, taking the keys out of his pocket. Once he releases the apartment key from the rest of his, he places it in your hand. You put it in your pocket and pick up your duffel bag, walking toward Nat giving her a hug. 

“I'll call you when I land and we'll start plannin' my solo trip out here okay?” you say.

Nat looks at you sadly, but nods. You don’t look back toward Bucky, just walk to the door of the apartment, and leave. Nat and Bucky just look at each other for moment. Nat turns and runs out of the apartment after you.

“Y/N!” she calls as she sees you opening the door to your Uber. You turn and face her. “Bucky does have feelings for you. I've always known, and I've been the one pushing you both together. That's why I wanted you both to drive out here,” she says.

You look at her in shock, but recover quickly. “Well, your plan failed. He's lying about his feelings toward me, because I was nothing more than a bet to him. I’m sorry Nat, but it’s over.” you say.

Before she can respond you get in the car and close the door. The car pulls away and heads toward the airport, leaving Nat and Bucky behind.

–

Once you checked in to your flight, you head toward security. You place your duffel bag, purse, jacket, and shoes on the conveyer belt. You walk through the metal detector, which goes off. You check your pockets when you see the key that Bucky had. Tears start to well up in your eyes as you look at the TSA agent. You hand the key to her, “You can just throw this away. No one will need it.”

–

Nat walks sadly back into the apartment and found Bucky sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. She walks up and sits next to him. 

“What was the bet you and Sam made?” she whispered.

Bucky doesn’t move, but she hears the muffled, “What?”

She says a little louder, “What was the bet… that you made with Sam?”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at her confused. “What the hell are you talking about Nat?” he asks, exasperated.

Nat just shook her head, “Y/N saw a text message this morning between you and Sam. You apparently told him he owed you $50 bucks and he asked how far you got.”

Bucky’s looks at Nat, still confused. “Uh… I bet him I could make it to your doorstep in 3 days, but because I decided to stop last night, I owed him $50. Why?"

Nat nods quietly. “She thought you made a bet about how far you could get with her. She thought everything you said about your feelings toward her was a lie to embarrass her because of what she said at the bar.”

Bucky stares at Nat in disbelief. “Wh- wh- why didn’t she say anything to me? Why didn’t she ask me for the truth?” Bucky says.

Nat shrugs, “I don’t know. She has always been very protective of her heart, and I guess it was easier to believe that you were lying, then toying with the idea that you actually liked her. I mean lets be honest, even I was unsure, at first. You were a complete douchebag for the last year, it makes sense that she's unsure.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Maybe I should just give up. She obviously will never trust me. What’s the point in tryin'?”

Nat gives Bucky a hug as more tears fall down his cheeks.

–

You get back to your apartment early the next morning. Looking around the room, everything looks as it did when you left, but you feel so different. You walk silently to Nat’s old room and stand in the doorway looking in. All that’s left is a mattress and box spring. You walk into the room and sit on the bed. You look at the empty walls, and for the first time in awhile, you feel utterly alone. You break down and start to sob.

You miss your best friend and you can’t believe you are thinking this after everything that has happened. But you miss Bucky.

--

Part 6 / Part 8

Will Bucky give up? Feedback is appreciated. I know my stories deal with toxic relationships and that it's not the way people would deal with things? But I use this as a therapy for me and unfortunately I have a lot of toxicity in my life. If it's not something you're down with, I completely understand.

Permanent Taglist: Permanent Taglist:  @rebekahdawkins @marajade1974 @missvelvetsstuff @phillygirl77 @pattiemac1 @winterslove1917 @vampire7595 @unkasworld @midnightramyeoncravings

Story Taglist: @unaxv @kandis-mom, @igotmajordaddyissues, @millercontracting, @thesoundresoundsecho, @kentokaze, @tornraltos, @bisexualnikkisixx @alwaysclassyeagle

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x natasha #bucky #misunderstanding #miscommunication #buckysanasshole

[thefallennightmare]

Ménage à Trois-Five

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ only please, swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Bucky has a proposition for Reader, something involving Steve. This trio, however, never expected for their lives to change after that night the way it had.

A/N: SURPRISE BITCHES! I was looking at all of my work in progress' in my drafts and saw this story and thought it would be a fantastic idea to update this story that has been on hiatus for a while now. This story might be a 'if i have time, I'll update.' Also, HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!

Tags(open): @matisse030502 @buckystevelove @floral-recs @inlovewithametalarm @buckies-dolle @cjand10 @matchat3a @kamaria-sweet-writes @pono-pura-vida @miikayywhocares @kunaikunari @mousee555 @akmenia

My feet paced anxiously throughout the small apartment, waiting for Steve and Bucky to return. It had been hours since I last saw either of them and my heart ached with worry.  

Before I could spiral even more, thinking the worst, the front door opened and in walked Bucky followed by Steve, who wore the proudest smile I’d ever seen cross his lips. 

“Where the fuck have you two been?! I’ve been worried sick,” my voice echoed. 

Immediately I cringed when I realized I sounded like a worried mother yelling at her two children. 

Bucky gave me an apologetic kiss to the side of my head, arm wrapping around my side. 

“I’m sorry, doll. Steve and I stopped at the bar down the road for some drinks. To celebrate,” he informed. 

I shook my head, confused. “I thought we were coming back here to celebrate you leaving in the morning.” 

“It was for me,” Steve spoke. 

He continued when I still wore the confused expression. “I got accepted into the army.” 

My face fell, shock and anger took over. 

“I’m sorry, what? How?” 

“Some German scientist heard his sob story and gave him a chance. Can you believe that?” Bucky said, the tone in his voice a clear indication that he was not happy about it. 

And neither was I. 

“Steve, we love you. But there’s absolutely no way you would survive one day out there. Your asthma alone could kill you,” I said. 

Steve stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. “Don’t you think I should at least get a chance?”

The way he sounded so broken chipped at the crack in my heart that had slowly begun to crack the minute I found out Bucky had been drafted. The only glue that held it together was that I knew Steve would still be here with me. 

“Of course you do, Stevie. But I can’t lose you too,” I choked out a sob, my bottom lip trembled. 

His face softened and hesitated to reach for me, unsure if Bucky would step in to comfort me. 

He did. 

Bucky pulled me into his chest, soothing my cries with soft circles to my back. His lips ghosted over my forehead as I clutched his jacket into my fists. I had kept up this great facade that I was okay with Bucky leaving tomorrow but now that it’s less than twelve hours away, I was a wreck and needed something to keep my mind off of it. 

“Hey, look at me,” Bucky lifted my chin with a finger. “I’ll be okay. So will Steve. We’ll come back home to you.”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore,” I sighed. 

Bucky cupped my cheek, his warm breath fanning over my lips. “Good, because we need to talk about something else.” 

With our fingers linked, he led me towards our couch while Steve took a seat in the lone chair across from it. The way they were acting made me worry about what exactly we needed to talk about. 

“What’s going on?” I questioned. 

Bucky brought my knuckles to his mouth, lips pressing soft kisses over each one. 

“Steve and I have been talking,” he began. 

I nodded, urging him to continue. “And?” 

He gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “How would you feel about sharing yourself with him?” 

I blinked in surprise. “Wh-what? As in a relationship?” 

Bucky nodded. “It’s nothing new to us, we’ve shared girls in the past.” 

I looked between the two men, lips falling open in shock while Steve gave a small shrug. 

“If it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I’ve slept with.” 

The corners of my mouth pulled up in a slight smile, the ego boost I felt knowing that Steve chose me in order to lose his virginity to; with Bucky’s blessing. 

“You shared before?” I turned back to Bucky. 

He nodded. “It wasn’t anything serious in the past. But with you, we want to make it serious.” 

“I don’t know, I still feel like you’re trying to pull my leg.” I said unsure. 

“Doll,” Bucky grasped my chin between his thumb and fore finger. “I’ve been serious about everything up until now. Why would I be messing around about this?” 

I shrugged, unsure how to answer him. 

“So, what do you say?” He asked with hope in his eyes. 

I bit my tongue, weighing the options around in my mind. It was everything I had been wanting lately, both of my best guys with me. The three of us cared for one another and it only made sense to make it official. 

“Should we have rules or?” I asked, still confused about the whole situation. 

Bucky nodded. “It doesn't have to be such a headache like you think it is. If you want us both one night, you can have that. Or if you want only one of us, that’s fine. Whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N.” 

“So,” I treaded carefully over my next words. “If, while you’re gone, Steve and I want to sleep together, that’s fine with you?” 

He answered my question with a fiery kiss, a moan rumbled from my throat. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Bucky repeated. 

I nodded. “Okay then.” 

The two men shared a look, a large grin spread to both of their faces, and I couldn’t stop myself from smacking Bucky’s chest. “You knew I would say yes, huh?” 

He shrugged. “I knew it from the moment you two slept together.” 

I looked between the two men, who were now my boyfriends. “So, what do we do now?” 

Naked, sweat glistened bodies tangled together in the sheets, our breaths of ecstasy bouncing off of the walls. Steve was below me as I straddled him, hips rocking up and down his cock, while Bucky was behind me with his cock sliding in and out of my hole, something that was forbidden before this arrangement. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky kissed my ear. 

All I could do was nod, too far gone in my desire filled haze to form words. 

Steve groaned below me, hips stalling, and I knew what this meant so I urged him on with my slow, languid movements, my own orgasm fast approaching. 

“Not yet,” Bucky ordered. 

“Bucky,” I whined. 

A small yelp fell from my lips when I felt a hard smack to my ass then Bucky lifted Steve up against the headboard, the new position causing my vision to blur, almost tilting me over the edge. 

In this new three-way, Steve had gained a confidence I had never seen before and sloppy kissed me then began biting and nipping at the skin of my neck, hand pushing the strap of my shirt farther down my shoulder. 

We had been in such a haste to feel one another that I was the only one with clothes still on. 

While Steve continued to thrust his cock up into my folds, the tip hitting that spot and Bucky’s own cock pulsating against the tight walls of my asshole, it was all becoming too much, my orgasm on the verge of washing over me. Buck knew it, too, because with a firm thumb pressed on the small bundle of nerves between my legs, he allowed me that final release I needed. 

“Oh,” I moaned, a bright light casting over my vision as my ears rang with the force of my orgasm. 

My pussy contracted on Steve’s cock as my juices spilled over him and it was what he needed to release his own into the condom, hands gripping tightly at my hips. 

Bucky wasn’t finished, though. Once Steve had calmed from his high, Bucky pulled me off of him and laid me onto the bed, my body exhausted from that one orgasm. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head. “Too much.” 

“Yes you can, doll. I’m so close,” Bucky cooed. 

He quickly slipped on a condom before he filled me and I slightly grimaced, the size comparison between him and Steve almost coming as a shock. While Steve’s cock was skinny but long, Bucky’s was thick, the veins capturing every crevice. But as soon as he began moving his hips, I adjusted to him quickly and wrapped my legs around his back, Bucky burying his cock deeper into me. 

“Shit, Y/N. So good,” Bucky huffed in my ear. 

Steve lay still next to us, trying his best to calm himself for his heart, but that didn’t stop him from watching us. 

For the second time, I felt heat pool low in my belly, spreading quickly to my core as my skin felt on fire. My orgasm wrecked through me, without warning, as I wailed out his name, Bucky swallowing it with his tongue, hips stuttering as his own climax shot into the condom. 

Bucky collapsed beside me and I snuggled closer into his chest, him pulling Steve closer to us which in turn made Steve wrap his arms around me from behind. We stayed in that position for a while, letting ourselves calm, our breaths becoming steady finally. 

It was when the mask was pulled off of us that I remembered tonight was going to be my last night with Bucky for a while. 

Possibly forever. 

I blinked away the thought, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. 

Bucky heard the small sniffle and lifted my chin up towards him, not saying a word. He didn’t have too, he knew what I was feeling, what was too hard for me to express. 

We shared a deep, loving kiss. 

“I’ll be okay, doll.” 

I sniffled once more. “I know.” 

Steve’s grip tightened behind me. “You still have me for a bit.” 

I turned in his embrace and placed a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Stevie.” 

This night would be the last night for quite some time that the three of us would lay tangled together.

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #james buchanan barnes #captain america #chris evans #marvel #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky smut #stucky x reader smut