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merao-mariposa · 2 days

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I have your back, you have my heart

Day three of the pissa/death duo week! This au was the idea of @amymorningstar in this post I really wanted to write about the Mafia Pissa and this was a good excuse for!

“Mafia + I promised you as long as I'm with you you'll never be alone again”

(…)

Philza Minecraft had been on the dark side of the streets for a very long, long time, since his first interventions dismantling brothels that were a little too... “flexible” with the idea of consent going to authentic inhumane places, all falling under the scourge of the Angel of Death until a man, a friend, appeared in front of him with the idea of dominating the criminal world, converting it to his ideals. That was a long time ago but corruption spreads like a fire in gasoline and Phil was there to suffocate it until it went out.

Maybe it was his cruelty in how he snuffed out the lives of those corrupt men that led him to pay the karma he was paying right now, he doesn't know.

The man sitting at his desk looked miserable for say the least, from the outside you feel the discord in the trademark half-twisted hat or the uncorked bottle of wine resting on his messy desk but you can see how the damage runs deeper than that if you know Philza well enough, the immaculate two pieces-suit stand out like a sore thumb on a man so casual and relaxed, the white shirt is buttoned at the neck almost restrictively, and his trail of beard is just a little more prominent than it has been in recent months.

The last few months, that sugar-filled almost year where mafia boss BOLAS had been closer to being an angel than he would ever be since he lived in what he could only call heaven.

His arrival in heaven was a young man with messy, dark hair. His purple eyes dragged him deep into the flames of hell now that they were no longer looking at him.

The fact that he had no one else to blame but himself didn't make it any easier.

But when Sinfonia appeared everything was perfect. He was reserved but easy to smile, aloof but with loyal friends, so pathetic (and cute) yelling at the slightest threat but he was a real threat in front of some of the most ruthless members of BOLAS, selective but had two beautiful kids who looked alike barely in the whites of the eyes, even his last name “Sinfonia” evidenced the harsh contradiction that surrounds the object of the crow's loves, a man as gifted in every possible musical instrument as if he had the Midas touch, and yet that very appropriate last name wasn't real. His Missa was a set of contradictions and embarrassing coincidences over knots in lavender stems.

Which in retrospect must have been a loud alarm, a siren announcing the disaster that his false moon left in its wake in the crow's heart.

It turns out that his love lied, the fire burning inside him to abandon important meetings for the sole purpose of sharing more time of his life with him as opposed to the absolute security of being understood as someone returning to his childhood home (beloved, cared, welcome) with the ease of riding a bike. All of that had been a waste.

The soft hugs that lulled him into deep dreams (chasing away the nightmares that Missa shouldn't know about for his own good) to the chaste kisses all over the face that released the negativity from his husband's shoulders (and if instead of being a result of his low self-esteem was his guilt taking charge?) to the private kisses that said “I miss you” and “one last time, love” without the words, all were nothing but lies.

Not that he had cared much about anything at that moment, he found himself focused on his children (because now they were also Phil's children) they were angels and he only had the head to raise them with Missa, who returned with a sweeter demeanor after his night walks and long work trips, he tenderly asked for nap together as a family.

He should have questioned more why Missa disappeared like that, coincidentally, just when Phil was paying for the services of the most dangerous mercenary on the black market, unlike the assassins he had on his payroll, this guy had the prestige of killing only with his touch, too lethal and above all cautious, Phil did not even met him in person, they only contacted through third parties who agreed on the service and only told about his violet hood and his skull mask. It is said; no one has seen his face and lived to tell.

Like I said before; Phil is old, he's been in the environment for years where only an intelligent man could live as long as he does, with that in mind how was it possible that he didn't know that his sweet husband was actually the most dangerous bastard in the underworld? Shocked by the discovery, in this kind of world, someone you trust can stab you in the back so how can you trust a man who lied to you?

And Missa knew who Philza Minecraft was, what his name means, he always knew, he did always know when something had gone wrong and Philza needed more comfort, always two steps ahead of his needs because he knew it.

The time after their fight breaks up, everything is a drunken blur in the crow's mind, he doesn't remember what they said, he only knows the screams and the revolver clicking in his left pocket while Missa, The Reaper or whoever it was have knowledge of the gun in his pocket and as soon as he pointed it at the man he said he loved time ago the gun was already on the ground, rolling behind this man who was unrecognizable to Phil, the shouting match continued more heated after the blonde pointed his gun at the helpless and clumsy Missa.

That was the last time he saw Missa.

Phil has been so distracted, tired and paranoid since then, even the security is a disaster ignoring the advice of the rest of BOLAS. Philza has scattered guards in unimportant areas, some stuck to him all day but the majority watch that Missa does not return or get close to the children (his children; Missa's own children) Chayanne almost bites him at the slightest suspicion of not being able to see his father, so his impenetrable fortress suddenly becomes a weak place.

Literally and metaphorically

He ordered several guards not to even dream of setting foot in certain areas of the family mansion (those such as the music room, the kitchen and the art studio, any room with traces of Missa must remain identical to how it was before his departure, as if they were waiting for him)

Philza feels betrayed and hurt but above all he is so confused, his rational mind tells him to defend himself, to put up the highest walls to protect himself, his organization and his family but his family is Missa. He is outside and Philza once promised that he will demolish every wall in the world that did not open its doors for the man with purple eyes.

And yet here he is.

Inside his fortress it can breathe the air of a broken family, the kids have believed him for the moment but the tension is felt increasing with every minute they pass without hearing from their papa. Inside the fortress are no longer him and his chicks but a greedy and lonely crow with two brittle shells and a broken heart.

The days pass in that agony until there is a surprise attack from which they cannot respond.

Tensions with the Federal mafia had gotten much worse in recent months, after his formal alliance with Soulfire he did not believe they were going to attack seriously.

But they did.

Thank his Goddess, thank The Lady for allowing Chayanne and Tallulah to be in the school while the white clad mercenaries broke down every door and shot at anything that moved.

At least Missa would get them back and they would be together again. Just as they should have been before he and his greedy hope for a family took that away from them.

As soon as his office door is kicked down one of those white masked sons of bitches puts his hands on him, something happens.

Penetrating in his vision when he sees him but there is stealth in his steps, he is the only one to notice his presence until two bullets (how quickly are repeated) knock down two of the men to dead, wound another in the shoulder, and the last one misses just centimeters away for paint the wall with Philza's skull.

Four shots, two fired before the reaction time of their distracted predators and attacked from the purest darkness, shots fly towards the door and if it was not absolutely broken after that rude kick it is now unusable, falling from its hinges under the siege and behind it are no signs of the mysterious shooter.

Tense seconds pass until one of the feds quickly puts one of his dirty hands in Phil's hair, pulling hard on the golden strands in a hissing threat and that's when he enters the scene.

The men on each side of the door were the first to fall, one quickly takes the place of his fallen companion, his gun raised, ready to shoot, followed by the one with the shot in the shoulder, unfortunately with that wound he is not able to shoot at time to prevent another bullet from the darkness from taking the life of the other one.

The bullets fly again while the threshold of the door swallows the corpse, dragging it out and soon, very soon, his savior enters the room with a constant step carrying the dead body as a kind of human shield.

A well-placed shot, other fall.

And the guy who touched him is one of them, his screams are muffled by his mask and by the gunshots exploding around him.

Phil hides under his desk as fast as he can but not before taking a bullet in the shoulder, it hurts like shit.

But it seems that it hurts them more because he can hear how one by one the white masks fall with sharp blows, they could barely scream in horror before fall with a fatal shott.

Fast, efficient and lethal

When it seems that the rain of bullets is ending, Phil distinguishes the voices from outside his office. That sounds like… Chainsaws? And laughs Phil knows immediately that his best people, who should be with his children, are on and from what he hears they are having fun.

He slowly peeks out of his desk, his hand warm from the blood dripping from his shoulder, and finally sees the reason of his recent insomnia.

Missa, or also known as The Reaper, moves almost with grace but the anger burns in his every movement, it is a wild spectacle as soon as the bullets run out, each man who even tries to get close to Phil is shot down with ease, he watch in trance as his husband smash anyone who tries to get close to him to pieces.

“M- Missa…?�� he comes out as a dismayed whisper

The Reaper turns to look at him for half a second, which one of them takes advantage of to kick him in the stomach. Missa lets out a grunt of acute pain but holds the guy's leg with his hands, taking advantage of pushing him forward, knocking another of them against the favorite glass table.

The two guys are left on the floor, one on top of the other and one's suit is now full of glass.

And just like that Missa goes for the next one and Phil can only watch in shock.

Missa is The Reaper, The Reaper is Missa. They are both the same person; they have been forever.

Missa, his Missa is his mercenary and his mercenary is his husband.

he approaches, slowly, as slowly as he can with a bullet embedded in his shoulder. The cacophony of screams shakes the floor and Philza suddenly realizes that he must have gone down to the panic room.

The weight of not doing so clings to his shoulders, the clear implications trying to cross the capo’s tired mind like a malicious whisper makes him feels so wrong, so manipulative.

But he was waiting for him to save him

Of a thousand people in this aggressive environment who swore their loyalty to him and finds himself depending on the arrival of the one who not only never swore anything to him but also betrayed him.

Oh well, who betrayed who?

After yelling at him for lying to him when he also lied, pointing a gun at him and taking him away from his own children, he knows that the Philza of the past would have sent him to hell for ruining the things with Missa.

Missa knew who he was before, he knew it from very early on and that affected Phil, it made him feel cornered and at a disadvantage. He realized at that moment that he was afraid; he didn't fear the hitman under his roof as much as he feared the man under his sheets. feared he was so vulnerable letting him walk around the red mafia's base of operations, taking the children to school every morning, training Chayanne and hearing Tallulah's flute in the distance did terrified him, his worst nightmare was in how his heart was warmed by them so soft and gentle in the reaper's expert hands he could take out his heart and the worst thing is that he would have left it in order to see the children and Missa every morning when he woke up.

My God, he was crazy, he went crazy when he fell in love with him and even crazier when Phil sabotaged his own happiness.

Loneliness tasted bitter on his lips, power and honor became poison with the diffuse days, with his cold bed at night, with his absence piercing his chest.

The last man fell and with the elegance of a dancer stabbed by a steel dagger into his chest, he did the same with the other two men on the ground. The Reaper left no witnesses or loose ends.

He could hear in the distance Baghera and Cellbit stopping their chainsaws which was a good sign. The Federation had basically sent a mini army to his grounds and he partly wondered if his men knew that Missa was there with him.

His name tasted salty when it finally left Phil's lips in a whisper, it tasted like the tears he shed every time he was sober to remember his absence. Behind that mask it is almost impossible to perceive the purple eyes but he knows well that look that is hidden in front of him.

Missa wipes the blood on his own pants with slow movements, the dagger pressed against his thigh until it's clean enough.

“Missa…” Phil insists, he shouldn't insist to the man who has the dagger, especially when he is hurt.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he feels (not sees) the intense gaze on his shrunken figure, well, at least he now has his attention. The purple eyes that he loves so much scan him from top to bottom and a wave of shame hits the stunned and guilty part of his subconscious as he remembers how he looks even worse for being in the middle of a fucking shootout. That wasn't how he would have wanted to see him again see but it was the most likely way to meet again now that he knew they were in the same work area

His eyes seem to linger on the wound on his shoulder and if he could see his husband's face, he would say he was not pleased with it.

“…Phil” Missa's voice sounds like a late greeting and is focused on him.

Goddess, how he had missed that voice

The professional, and infamous mercenary approaches, a little more hesitant than he should for a man of his reputation and a wave of affection breaks over Philza, he too takes a single step closer and they are looking at each other as the first time, feels like looking at the moon at its peak or the sun descending. He can't, he doesn't have the right to act like a wet cat after tearing up his enemies and expecting Phil to be normal about it. Missa just can't do that to him, he bites back a light laugh and takes another step in his direction. noticing that there is blood on his clothes and some cuts on it but if I had to guess I would say that most of it is from the others and Phil is already losing blood himself.

Missa takes another step, knowing the bleeding has stopped and believing the bullet grazed but he won't be sure until he concentrates on something other than mustering the words to ask him to fucking take off the mask.

Fortunately, he seems to read his mind as Phil doesn't even finish taking another slow step towards him when the mask is finally gone, The Reaper has officially left the room and his husband looms in front of him in his place. Is it strange to say that death is good for him? His face, his hair and the sparkle in his eyes or is the blonde just delirious?

Be that as it may, it doesn't take long for them to find themselves in the middle of the destroyed office as if it were his own world.

"You went"

“You kicked me out.”

“You still shouldn't have left” he replied very intelligently and Missa smiled, a little nervous.

“Does it hurt so much?” The black-haired man worried, looking at his injured shoulder and Philza wasn't having his partner distracted just like that.

"No, no. It doesn't hurt" He responded, knowing that lies were not the best for the relationship at this time.

Missa frowned like a kitten about to sneeze but he allowed this one for him, just for now.

“You… you're right Philza” Missa lowered his head in shame and a confuse “what?” died in the blonde's throat.

"I shouldn't have left-"

“I pointed at you with a gun, mate” he interrupted, feeling guilty and a little freaked out by whatever that means, it all was his fault, why was Missa saying that?

“Still, I should have stayed, I wanted to stay” hesitantly he noticed how Missa’s arms floated loosely around him. They weren't very elegant clothes, just good enough for work and Philza wanted to focus on that and the stains of blood all over his man instead of the new confession, after everything he did, but how could Missa still wanted him?

“Missa…”

“I promised, right?” Phil raised his head suddenly, searching for his gaze between the strands of black hair that escaped from his messy ponytail. “I always keep my promises, dear”

When the members of Bolas made sure they had the entire area clean, they advanced, covering the entire perimeter until they climbed the stairs that led to the red leader's office, they found themselves face to face with the splintered frame of the door, an office in an absolute disaster. with the imposing doors thrown next to the lifeless bodies and in the eye of that past storm was the mob boss.

Philza was leaning against his desk (which was out of its place) the purple cloth acted as an improvised tourniquet and in his arms was the waist of a tall man with black hair that they had trouble recognizing at first if it weren't for the clear display of affection, unaware that they had company. Now Phil kept his face buried in the taller man's torso as if he were afraid to let him go again and Missa hummed, deeply satisfied with having his little bird in his arms again, he carefully avoided the other man's shoulder but remained attentive, didn't want to leave that wound out of sight until he could drag his husband stubborn ass to the infirmary. Ignoring the living and dead audience, the couple was trapped in their own world, little giggles that didn't seem to go anywhere, dying and returning with each other's laughter in a vicious circle, finally together.

“I promised you, I didn’t? as long as I'm with you you'll never be alone again, cuervito”

EXTRA:

“You look pretty good with that ponytail you know, mate?”

“Philza!”

“So, guys, do I tell Jaiden that there will be no divorce?”

“Shut the fuck up, Charlie”

#qsmp #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #pissa #pissa week #pissa/deathduo week #pissa au #qsmp shipping #tw mafia themes #tw dead mention #nothing graphic #but still #qsmp bolas

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autismserenity · 3 days

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I'm so fucking done right now

I have a friend. We're going to call her "AAAAAAA!!!!"

AAAAAAA!!!! and I have been friends for more than twenty years. LONG before I started converting to Judaism.

She grew up in an area Jewish enough to get the high holy days off. She has as many Jewish friends as I do. She is more knowledgeable about Jewish stuff than anyone else I know who isn't Jewish. To the point that I've sometimes thought about asking her why she doesn't convert.

Sure, she's a staunch atheist. So nu?

I don't think we'd ever had occasion to talk about I/P politics before a couple of years ago. We immediately discovered we had uhhhhh. Very opposing views. We both backed off of what was clearly going to be a charged and messy discussion.

I didn't know enough yet to try anyway. All I knew, mainly, was that (1) Jews are the indigenous people of Israel and (2) both Israel and Palestine have Done Bad Shit!

That's a very, very, very inadequate understanding. But I did feel pretty confident that point #1 contradicted her apparent stance, which was more "Israel is the one that has Done Bad Shit."

We backed off for a couple of years. She would occasionally mention how much she wished I would read Edward Said, so we could talk about him.

She is, to her credit, totally against Hamas's attack. But we conflict on most other issues. And they're so charged for her that we can't really talk about any of them.

It turns out that the reason they're so charged is that her niece got yelled at and called out for "being an antisemite" for supporting BDS in college, and it was traumatizing for her.

In other words, she and her family stopped at "I had really really big feelings of shame and fear about this," and chose not to see "and I tried to find out why this marginalized group was saying that" as an option.

And also, AAAAAAA!!!!'s sister, a local elementary school principal, went through a stressful time recently for similar reasons: Jewish families were accusing her and/or her school of being antisemitic, and one (1) family left.

AAAAAAAA!!!! set the boundary, with me, that we should not talk about the definition of antisemitism, or antisemitism related to the protest movement, after I posted a list of things on Facebook that the ADL is charging the Berkeley Unified School District with.

Including that K-12 students have been saying and/or writing, "Kill the Jews," "Jews are stupid," "Of course it was the Jews," and telling Jewish peers, "I don't like your people."

My friend is angrily convinced that "such accusations are a flood of SEWAGE smeared on protesters, professors, etc. I am not saying there is no antisemitism, though Berkeley is a very weird place for it to crop up in the from-zero-to-a-thousand way it is described. Of course there can be a) isolated incidents that hit fucking hard in these circumstances, and b) deliberate elisions between, again, being against what Israel is doing, and having that portrayed as being antisemitic."

/looks at the camera/

All of this is just context for what I came here to say 😅

I WAS TONIGHT YEARS OLD WHEN I FOUND OUT WHAT EDWARD SAID WROTE, AND WHAT THE ENTIRE FUCK. FUCK THAT DUDE TWICE.

Constantine Zurayk's fiction that the “Arab nation” suffered the Nakba didn’t survive for long. [By 1967,] the meaning of the Nakba had already changed as Palestinian activists and historians began depicting the events of 1948 exclusively as a tragedy for their own people.

...The most influential of those [new books that framed it that way,] particularly for audiences in the West, was Edward W. Said’s The Question of Palestine, published in 1979.

Said, a popular Columbia University English professor [OH HELLO] and a member of the Palestinian National Council, was something of an icon in liberal intellectual circles because of his earlier book, Orientalism. In that work, Said framed the history of colonialism in the Arab and Islamic world within a system of Western racialist thought.

I'm just gonna guess that he didn't go back farther than 50 years. Because before that point, you get 1,300 years or so of Arab and Islamic colonialism, and I don't know how it would make sense to frame that within a system of Western racialist thought.

In The Question of Palestine, the author argued that the game was stacked against the native Palestinians in favor of the white Zionists, because of the same dominant racist ideologies.

THAT'S HIM, OFFICER. THAT'S THE GUY.

That's what my friend has been trying to get me to read for three years? An ahistoric mess that pretends Jews were actually white supremacists at the time that white supremacy was actively trying to wipe us out?

I'M SO TIRED, YOU GUYS.

Said denounced “the entrenched cultural attitude toward Palestinians deriving from age-old Western prejudices about Islam, the Arabs, and the Orient. This attitude, from which in its turn Zionism drew for its view of the Palestinians, dehumanized us, reduced us to the barely tolerated status of a nuisance.”

Yeah, THAT'S what happened.

“Certainly, so far as the West is concerned,” Said continues, “Palestine has been a place where a relatively advanced (because European) incoming population of Jews has performed miracles of construction and civilizing and has fought brilliantly successful technical wars against what was always portrayed as a dumb, essentially repellent population of uncivilized Arab natives.”

This was a harsh and distorted view of the Zionist movement.

I said I was so fucking done, and what I MEANT was that I was so fucking angry, and NOW I'M TEXTING HER SUPPORTIVELY ABOUT OTHER STUFF WHILE I WRITE THIS.

I just.

Please drag Edward Said for me or otherwise Go Off. Thank you

#jumblr #i just never have an opportunity to say 'so nu' and it's been in my head for most of my life #she's supposed to care about history and accuracy but family shit overrides all that #she said if something antisemitic happens to me or my kid i SHOULD tell her and i was like WHY #and you know what? never got a response #wall of words

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ionlydrinkhotwater · 23 days

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OK but I really love how unhinged Neil comes off in other people's POV cause looking back at the first three novels he was so damn weird

Take what happened in Colombia

Imagine what Andrew was thinking

Holy crap this binder WTF?!?! OK he's sus as hell I've gotta test him, I'm gonna mess with the tags when I refold his clothes but like...I doubt even he's THAT crazy

*Neil barges in and starts shouting in FRENCH*

OK so he IS that crazy (and French?!)

OK I'm gonna spike his drink and get some answers in a minute just gonna leave him with Aaron and Nicky for a sec while I satisfy my Gay panic this runaway has inspired in me with Roland and then I'll just...WTF DID HE JUST PAY A GUY TO KNOCK HIM OUT?!

OK I'm gonna pick up some breakfast and when I get back to the house I can interrogate the....OK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THIS DUBIOUS TWINK CRAWLED OUT OF THE BATHROOM WINDOW?!

OK so he's not around let's get back to Palmetto he probably got a ride from one of the upperclassmen

OK he didn't...did he run away? I guess that makes some sens... OK wait he HITCHHIKED?! THE FUCK?!

OK THIS ASSHOLE SPEAKS GERMAN TOO?!

OK he's on the run from the mob...there are a lot of holes in this story but at this point I'm gonna take his word for it that he's isn't a danger to my people cause I don't have the energy to continue to pursue this anymore. This fucking guy is more unhinged than what I was prepared to deal with this weekend.

#aftg #all for the game #tsc #the sunshine court #neil josten #andrew minyard #andrew was more tired than Neil was after that weekend 🤣#you won the batttle kind of andrew but neil won that war #not to shade nicky and aaron but wingus and dingus were not the ones you should have left neil with TWICE #also its cracker dust not truth serum it was a weird plan to start with and nicky and aaron were more high and more drunk than neil was #they were not the ones who should have been left in charge #also by letting neil out of sight for all those hours he hitchhiked let him come up with a plausible lie #that held up until BALTIMORE #like my dude you had the binder you should have hid it and threatened to burn a page wverytime neil lied #cause if the money was from riko paying neil to be a mole he would NOT want it burned #and what hes gonna go to the cops about his ill gotten cash and fake ids? you could have had him andrew #ps i imagine neil saying all of this to Andrew when that first time in Colombia is ever brought up #just critiquing his methods #andrew isnt one for regret but neil picking holes in his plan and pointing out what HE would have done makes him feel pretty damn close #he probably finds it annoyingly attractive too tho

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augustinewrites · 4 months

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it’s been…a while since you and satoru have gone on an assignment together.

having two young children at home made it difficult to take off on short notice and be away for days at a time. they needed stability and routine, so the two of you had decided that one person would stay home while the other was working.

for a while, that’d worked fine. but now that megumi and tsumiki were older, self-sufficient teens who loved nothing more than being left alone, satoru had seen this as an opportunity.

you’d still been a little hesitant, but it was a simple surveillance mission. easy, right?

“water. you need to stay hydrated.” you instruct when he gets back into the car. he takes the water bottle you’re holding out, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig.

“gakuganji isn’t even home yet,” he reports with a sigh. you hum, distracted as you check your phone. gojo reaches across your knees to pull open the glovebox, rifling through colourful snack wrappers.

“tsumiki hasn’t texted me back,” you mutter. “should i ask nanami to check in on them?”

“nah, i’m sure they’re just super busy trashing the apartment and racking up charges on the emergency credit card. ah– found it!” he pulls out a black silk sleep mask, slipping it on so it rests on his forehead.

“really?” you ask, unimpressed as he holds a second one out to you. “you’re taking a nap?”

“yeah, it’ll be easier to sneak around when it’s dark, why stay awake till then?”

“is that a good idea?” you ask, though you know there’s really no point in trying to argue with his logic.

“your fault for keeping me awake all night. late night laundry folding is no joke.”

“if you’d put it in the dryer when i’d asked—”

“can’t hear you,” he sing-songs, pulling the mask over his eyes. “you can take a nap too, you know. that old fart couldn’t get past us even while asleep.”

“i’ll pass on the nap. need to wait for tsumiki to text.”

he grumbles something incoherent that you’re sure is meant to be argumentative as he reclines his seat a little and lays back, getting comfortable and quiet.

…for about 45 seconds.

you watch out of the corner of your eye as he pulls the mask up a half inch, just enough for his right eye to observe you.

“what do you want now?” you ask.

then, with casualty akin to asking what you want for lunch, he clears his throat and asks, “do you want to have sex?”

“do i want to have what?” you ask, turning to stare at him incredulously, but your face is hot and for a split second, you’d considered agreeing.

“sex,” he repeats, patting his lap with a shit-eating grin. “we’re going to be here for a while, anyways. these seats recline way back—”

“i am not having sex in this car with you, satoru!”

he groans over-dramatically (as he tends to do). “will you at least cuddle with me then? i’m desperate and touch-starved and hopelessly in love with you!”

you make a note to figure out what cheesy rom com he stole that line from, but lean across the console to trail kisses up his shoulder, his neck. satoru does nothing to protect himself from your overly affectionate onslaught, he’s quick to catch your jaw, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“wait. no, no, no!” he protests when you pull back, eyes suddenly trained on the house you’re meant to be watching. “you can’t just leave me high and dry—”

“he’s home!” you whisper, pressing a hand over his mouth (though he continues with muffled complaints). “pull the car a little further back before we get out.”

you’ve already summoned your shikigami as satoru maneuvers the car into the dense forestry, about to send them off when your phone vibrates in your lap.

“oh! megumi texted me,” you inform him. “he said…‘already made dinner. tsumiki is out on a date—’”

the car grinds to a halt and abruptly turns, the momentum causing your to slam into the side of the car as it peels out onto the dirt road. you curse loudly as your fiancé, devoid of all his playfulness from earlier, speeds through the forest.

“what the— satoru!”

#principal yaga sighs when the mission report status reads incomplete due to ‘fatherly duties’#keeping up with the fushigojos #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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buryustogether · 1 month

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songbird

the ghoul x f!reader

summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?

wc: 5.7k

warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper

You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.

The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.

Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.

"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.

"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."

The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.

Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.

A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.

From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.

Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.

These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'

Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.

You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.

If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.

"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."

"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."

You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."

"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"

You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"

Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.

Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.

Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.

The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.

As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.

"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.

Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.

You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'

You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.

"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."

"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.

Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."

Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."

"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"

You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.

"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"

They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.

"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.

"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."

Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."

Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."

Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."

With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.

He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."

Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.

"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.

You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."

"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."

You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.

Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."

"For what, exactly, little lady?"

"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."

Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"

"What?"

"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."

You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.

"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.

"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.

A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"

You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."

"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.

"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"

"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."

You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.

The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."

As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.

"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."

Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."

"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"

"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."

Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."

"Cooper, I can't -"

Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.

"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.

You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.

He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.

Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.

"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.

Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.

Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.

You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.

"Let me see that book you've got there."

Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."

"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"

Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."

"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."

For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.

"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."

As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.

"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.

You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."

"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."

Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.

Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.

It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.

"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."

His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.

Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.

"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."

Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.

Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.

"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."

Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.

"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."

"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."

You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."

Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.

Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.

"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."

Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."

#fallout #fallout show #fallout amazon #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #fallout imagines #fallout one shot #fallout smut #the ghoul x y/n #cooper howard x y/n

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

Text

Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?”

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before.

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him.

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink.

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

“What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away.

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?”

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping.

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad.

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too.

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway.

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.”

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply.

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours.

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water.

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him.

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys.

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable.

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.”

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.”

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it.

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way.

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand.

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening.

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv.

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.”

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic

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puppetmaster13u · 2 months

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Prompt 266

Back on my Danny & Ras frienemies/rivals/maybe-lovers-nobody-can-tell-their-signals-are-very-mixed train.

See, Danny has gone through time a lot. Often. It comes with being Clockwork’s charge-son-thing and honestly he finds it fun. And several times he’s used this time travelling to get some training in. Enter Ras, stage left, also a teen at the time and also learning swordsmanship from the same person.

And they… utterly despise each other. They would kill the other for an apple slice, if the other one would die! But also, only they can kill the other, as it is obviously their right!

And well, they keep running into each other. It has been a hundred years, surely the other would die by now? But of course their rival would live through utter spite. Probably to spite them specifically.

The amount of times they have ended up sparring- trying to kill each other or not- the moment they see the other is actually ridiculous. But time is also passing. And… Danny understands, not having another to talk about things people are forgetting, or have already forgotten.

How they ended up actually talking without a murder attempt was a long story that included a demon, a dragon, a pair of fae, some bandits, and a lot of alcohol, but it happened. And then it happens again. And again, and now it’s just kind of normal to share a drink after their spars, talking about things that no longer exist, and things they miss.

Sure Danny can go back in time again, but he knows better than to do it willy nilly. He’s matured, he’s been an adult for a hundred years now, he knows there’s consequences for messing with time, even with Clockwork’s blessings.

The first time they got married was technically for an undercover assassination. Well, Ras was there to assassinate someone, Danny was there to grab an artifact that should Not be in the realm of the living. And they got divorced after, it was fine.

They just, also got married again when they met a few years later, for another job. And… okay, so maybe they have gotten married over a dozen times now and only divorced like half of those times. Half of those were for the bit or while drunk!

And even if technically they’re married or shared a bed, it’s not like they're exclusive! As Ras’ daughters’ existences attest to (adopted in one case or not). They don’t exactly have a label for their relationship, despite others asking for one or trying to put a name to it themselves.

Now Danny knows Ras isn’t exactly a good dude, or at least on the side of ‘good’ as he’s a literal assassin. But he also knows that good? Bad? Rather relative. He had gotten labeled as a villain when he was just trying to help all that time ago after all, and really who was he to tell someone else how to live their life?

Which brings him to now, where he’s run into his old frienemy-rival and his youngest daughter. Who has a braindead teenager and a small toddler. Which is fine, really- but also, Talia dear, why are you using a brain dead teenager to guard your three year old son?

…

Okay, Talia dear, Ras (Derogatory), why are you using your brain dead son and grandson to guard your younger son and grandson? Do you not have the Pits, which you were soo proud about Ras? Yes, he will spar with you, but for Realms’ sake, heal, what’s his name? Ah yes, go heal Jason and he’ll actually stick around for a few years, deal? Good.

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Deadly Decisions #Danny is Not Ghost King & he doesn’t want to be #Danny isn’t from the same timeline as DC but he hops around so many that he’s formed a few favorites #You Know the bats are going to go crazy searching for some sort of proof of Danny’s existence when they finally communicate w/ each other #Why yes Danny is an adult lol (he is also tall but has body more like his mom)#Yes Sam showed him how to do makeup & it was a bonding thing while they bitched #Is Danny Dusan’s mom? Wonderful question that the league is pondering themself #Danny introduced Sam & Tucker to Ras once & it was horrific how well they got along #Danny almost forgot that Tucker was once a royal dictator who had constant assassination attempts #Sam & Ras bond over violent love of nature & willingness to kill to keep it safe from assholes #Damian about Danny: Obviously this is Grandmother #Jason after being thrown in the Pit: Who are you Where am I What the fuck #Damian: :O Akhi you can speak now :D Come see my puppy Grandmother gave me for protection #Ras & Danny: Threatening each other #Everyone else: Do they want to kill each other or are they flirting or both…#Space Core Danny #Star Core Jason

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 4 months

Text

Sex pollen!Bucky Barnes one shot

What a weird night. Another mission blowing up an old Hydra base, ransacking it for information before the explosion. You and Bucky had been scouring emptied shelves and desks. All computers and hard drives had already been wiped clean. As you explored you found a lone flower in a pot, sitting in the middle of an exam table in an abandoned lab.

“What is this?” you wondered out loud, walking closer to the flower but not daring to touch it. It looked otherworldly, a color that you could only describe as indigo with iridescent anthers that seemed to glow as you came closer. You took a picture and sent it to headquarters. A video call quickly came back within seconds of you sending the picture.

“Hey Shuri, what am I looking at?” you asked.

“DON’T TOUCH IT! GET AWAY FROM IT!” she yelled, her eyes bulging through the screen. You quickly stepped back, staring at it in fear.

“What the hell is going on? What is it?”

“We don’t have a name for it here on earth, the only way I can describe it is an alien aphrodisiac. The anthers on it will shoot out a dust that will make the one who breathes it extremely aroused to the point that if they don’t…copulate quickly it could cause dangerously high heart palpitations, abdominal pain, even psychotic breaks. It can severely hurt or even kill you.”

“An alien aphrodisiac?” you asked dumbly, staring at the flower again. It was beautiful, and you could feel a strange pull to go up to it and desire to touch it. Thankfully you had some sense of self-preservation. “Okay, what do we do with it?”

“Just get out of there and blow the place. The explosion should be enough to kill the plant. I don’t know how Hydra was able to get one, but there’s a reason they left it behind.”

“Jesus, okay, we’re on it. I’ll report back soon,” you ended the call then tried to get hold of Bucky. “Buck, can you hear me?” you said, hitting the earbud in your ear. Nothing. You left the room, walking down the corridor to another side of the base to try to get a better signal.

“Bucky, do you read me?” you called more loudly. You heard nothing but static. “Dammit,” you grumbled. You tried your phone since you’d been able to get hold of Shuri. After two rings he answered the video call.

“Hey doll, where are you?” he asked, a strange glowing behind him. Your eyes widened at the color of the glow.

“Buck, where are you?”

He turned, showing the lab you were just in. “This old lab, there’s this weird looking flower in here, we should probably bag it up and bring it in for testing,” he said, reaching a hand out to the flower.

“Bucky NO!” you screamed at your phone, already running back down the corridor.

It was too late. A large puff of indigo dust poofed from the flower’s anthers, surrounding Bucky and making him cough violently. By the time you reached the lab he was on his knees, dry heaving as the dust seemed to magically disappear into his skin.

“Shit,” you swore, running in and pulling him away from the flower. “We have to get out of here. Did you set all the charges?”

Bucky was unresponsive, still coughing and holding his stomach as he tripped over his feet as you dragged him out of the room. You grunted as you pulled him along back down the corridor, his arm hung over your shoulder.

“Come on Buck, stay with me,” you reached a hand up and grabbed his chin to make him focus on you. “Did you set the charges?!”

“Yeah,” cough, “yeah I got it,” his arm around your shoulder seemed to tighten as he doubled over in pain, his face getting dangerously close to yours, like he was nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “What the fuck was that thing?”

“Ugh, I’ll explain once we’re out,” you ignored his close proximity, pulling him through the halls until you finally found the entrance, quickly loading yourselves into the quinjet. As you placed him into a chair and buckled him in you noticed a sheen of sweat along his hairline. You gingerly placed a hand on his forehead. He was burning up. “Shit,” you swore again. When you turned away to start the jet Bucky groaned.

“Don’t, don’t leave me,” Bucky begged, his eyes screwed shut. His metal hand was warping the arm of the chair.

“I’m right here, Buck, just gotta get us in the air,” you placate him, getting the jet moving then turning to him again. “Where’s the remote for the charges?”

Bucky shifted in his seat, reaching towards his pants pocket but fumbling as his fingers trembled. You quickly reached down and dipped your hand into his pocket. Bucky moaned loudly as you touched him so close to his cock, which you just noticed was straining against his pants. He still had the sense to look embarrassed as your eyes flashed to his face when he moaned, but you pretended like nothing happened as you took the remote and once you were a good distance away detonated the charges. A loud boom reverberated as you flew away, taking out the base and the alien flower.

As you sank into the other chair and took a breath you called Shuri again.

“Shuri, it’s done, but we have a bit of a problem,” you started when her face showed up on the screen.

“Oh please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” she pleaded, looking worried.

“Bucky wasn’t with me when I called you, so he didn’t know to stay away from the flower, and by the time I tried calling him there was no reception so I wasn’t able to tell him before he got too close to it. It blew right in his face and now he’s–”

“Ungh!” Bucky moaned again, his flesh hand palming himself through his pants. “What is this? God, it burns everywhere!”

“Oh Bast,” Shuri swore. “What are his symptoms?”

You stood back up, walking over to Bucky as he writhed in his chair. “Sweating profusely, high temperature, abdominal pains…hey Buck, open your eyes, look at me,” you directed him. He quickly responded to your voice, his eyes looking wild as he stared at you. “Pupils are dilated, and uh, well, some major arousal from what I can see,” you finished quickly, looking away from his debauched gaze.

“Damn, and it all started immediately upon breathing in the dust?” Shuri asked quickly, her body turned towards a screen that she was typing on.

“Yes, he was choking and dry heaving on it, and it seemed to, I don’t know, seep into his skin? It was crazy,” you rushed out. You felt a tug on your shirt, looking down and seeing Bucky’s metal fingers pulling on the hem of your shirt, trying to pull you closer to him. “And now he’s trying to touch me,” you stated plainly.

Shuri sighed, turning away from the screen she was looking at. “There’s nothing else that can help him. He needs to have sex as soon as possible or else he will get worse and worse until his heart or mind gives out. And seeing how much his mind has gone through in the last 80 years, you don’t have much time,” she remarked gravely. “I’m sorry I don’t have any better answers for you. This is something that we’ve never had to deal with before.”

You sighed, feeling Bucky’s fingers grab onto your thigh and pull you closer to him. “I get it, Shuri, thanks. Just…turn off the cameras and speakers for the jet, please?”

Shuri nodded with a pitiful smile on her face. “You got it, good luck.”

You hung up your phone and set it on the other pilot chair. You glanced back at Bucky and saw him crying as his metal fingers dug into your thigh. “Oh Buck, it’s okay,” you sank down onto your knees in front of him, your fingers wiping his tears.

He sniffed hard. “No, it’s not. This isn’t okay. I didn’t want it like this, this doesn’t give either of us a choice,” he cried, his metal fingers now rubbing the back of your neck. He didn’t seem to have control over what his hands were doing as his flesh hand pushed harshly against his cock. “It’s not fair.”

You nodded, “You’re right, it’s not fair, it’s not right. But I’m not going to let you die. It’s okay,” you reached your hand up and cupped his cheek again with your palm, which he happily hung his head into. “You’re my best friend, my mission partner, and I’m not going to lose you to some alien fucking flower. I want to help you, do you hear me?”

Bucky looked in your eyes deeply, looking for any hesitation. He didn’t find it. “Buck, I want to,” you reassured him resolutely. “I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear. He ripped the seat buckle off of him and stood quickly, pulling you up harshly from the floor and towards the back of the quinjet where there were a couple of rooms for resting. He picked the one with the bigger bed and shoved you through the door. As much as this situation was dire, you were also secretly excited. The feelings you’d tamped down as a childish crush were now coming full front as you peeled your mission suit off, kicking your boots off to a corner and then helping him get out of all the buckles and straps on his outfit. Once you were both naked he wasted no time in cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. The kiss was desperate, his fingers digging into the softness of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours then biting your lower lip. You gasped and he took his opportunity to stick his tongue in your open mouth, tasting your tongue and swirling it with his. His hands quickly traveled down your body, feeling his way over each hill and valley of your curves, settling his flesh hand on your breast, tweaking the nipple making you moan, and his metal hand kneading your ass. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Bucky picked you up and heaved the both of you onto the mattress, gently seating himself between your legs. His hard cock was nestled against your stomach, the contact making him rut against you. He grunted as you bit his lip in return, another thrust against your core making you arch your back. He slipped his flesh hand between your bodies and felt around your lower lips, feeling the slick already building up. He moaned at how wet you were for him, using some of that slick on his thumb to bring it to your clit and rub you. You arched again, your hips thrashing as he flicked your clit and rubbed you harshly.

“Gotta get you ready for me,” he murmured, looking down at you and watching as he dipped two fingers into your pussy while his thumb kept busy on your clit. The fill of his fingers made you moan loudly, your mouth dropping open and hands digging into the sheets below you. He pumped his fingers lazily, his thumb doing all the work. You could feel the orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly, your hips gyrating against his hand.

“Oh god, Buck, I’m gonna cum, ungh,” your breath hitched as he flicked harder. The snap in your core was sudden, a yelp falling from your lips as you came on his fingers. He let you ride out the orgasm and the aftershocks, pulling his fingers out gently then bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on your juices. His eyes rolled back in his head as he licked his fingers clean. The scene almost made you cum again.

“Fuck, you taste divine, doll,” he growled. “Next time I’m gonna eat you out and pull as many orgasms from you as I can with my mouth.”

“Next time?” you breathed.

Bucky nodded as he shifted his hips and gripped his cock, lining himself up with your pussy. “Yeah, next time. Been wanting you for so long, doll. Although this isn’t the way I wanted it,” he paused as he pushed in slowly, making you gasp, “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. Jesus, you’re tight!”

Your hands gripped his biceps, fingernails digging into his flesh arm. You tried to relax as he pushed slowly, trying to let you adjust even though you could tell he was struggling to go slow. The sweat was almost pouring off him now, his pupils dilated so much that his eyes looked almost completely black, his temperature even hotter than before. You worried that if he didn’t cum soon he’d pass out. He was trying to be careful, but he didn’t need careful, he needed relief.

“Buck,” you whined, swiveling your hips. He buckled as you moved, falling to his elbows above you. “Move, please. Just use me, honey. I can take it.”

“No,” Bucky grunted, “I don’t want to use you. You deserve better.”

“I know, hun, I know, but that’s not what you need right now. I need you to take me, please,” you ran your fingers through his hair then gripped it harshly, pulling his head up to look at you. He whimpered at your rough treatment, his eyes widening. “Fuck me, Bucky. Fuck me hard.”

His eyes seemed to glaze over as they narrowed at your words. His brow furrowed with determination as he moved himself to a different position, holding up your hips and lifting your legs over his hips. “Yes, doll,” he answered through gritted teeth. He then thrust into you violently, causing you to scream. He set a punishing pace, savagely driving himself into you as he chased his high. All you could do was hold on, your fingers grasping the sheets or his arms. You could feel the building orgasm in the pit of your pelvis as he hit your g-spot over and over. As your pussy fluttered around him he suddenly twisted you around, still inside you as he flipped you to your front and rutted into you from behind. The sound of skin slapping skin and gasping breaths filled the cabin as you moaned, trying to keep your hips up as he drilled you into the mattress.

“Bucky, oh baby, yes!” you cried, tears starting to form in your eyes. The new position made him reach even further inside you, making you see stars with each thrust. Your peak kept getting higher and higher until you finally fell, screaming his name as you came around him. Bucky shuddered as you came, your pussy convulsing around his cock, making him cum with a shout. He kept thrusting into you as he pumped you full of his cum, mumbling your name repeatedly. The flower dust had made him so incredibly horny that he kept cumming more than he normally would, making a mess as it overflowed from your pussy to the mattress below.

You both stilled as you calmed down from your highs, more dribbling out of you as you tried to regain your breathing. Bucky slowly pulled out, a squelching noise coming from your pussy as you both groaned, more cum dripping from your aching hole. You fell onto the mattress, your legs periodically shaking and arms splayed above your head. Bucky laid on the mattress next to you, breathing heavily.

After a few moments you shifted to your side facing Bucky. His eyes were closed, his mouth open as he breathed, his hair matted to his forehead from all the sweating. You reached out and moved some of his wet hair from his eyes. His eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your fingers. He looked at you with shining eyes, looking thoroughly fucked. You giggled at him, and he gave you a lopsided smile back.

“You feel better?” you asked slyly.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Thank you, doll. I’m sorry I put you in this position,” he started, moving to his side to face you as well.

“Buck, it’s okay–”

“Will you go out with me?” he asked hurriedly. You blinked as your mind caught up to what he said. He watched you carefully as you processed what was happening.

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, closing the distance between you and kissing his cheek. It was very innocent considering you were both still naked. He smiled and took your free hand in his, giving your fingers a squeeze then bringing them to his lips and gave them a kiss.

“I know it’s too early, but um, I love you,” he confessed. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Your smile widened, your hand squeezing his hand back. “I love you, too, Buck. Probably too much.”

Bucky recoiled, “What do you mean too much? How could you love this,” he gestured to his body, “too much?”

You doubled over in laughter, slapping his chest as you straightened out after a minute. “You’ve been hanging out with Sam too much,” you laughed, wiping your eyes.

He laughed along with you, grimacing at the sound of Sam’s name. “Please don’t say Sam’s name while you’re naked in bed with me. It just doesn’t feel right.”

You laughed again, this time trying to stifle it behind your hand. “Okay, I’m sorry…Barnes,” you teased him. His eyes narrowed at you. “Or should I call you James?” he minutely shook his head. “Okay, how about…Sergeant?” His eyes widened. “Oooh, did I find a kink?” you giggled. “How about, sir?”

Bucky pounced on you, encircling you in his arms and tickling your sides. You squirmed against him as you screamed his name.

“That’s right, doll, that’s what I want to hear. You screaming my name,” he growled in your ear as he let up on the tickling. “Just Bucky is fine.”

“Haha, okay, okay…Bucky,” you said his name sensually.

Bucky moaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start, or else we’re never leaving this cabin.”

“Who said I was ready to leave?” you teased him again, your fingers scratching down his chest. His hips jutted forward as you flicked his nipples lightly.

“Okay, you asked for it,” he warned.

#sex pollen #oneshot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #smut

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miirohs · 29 days

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nothing on me but you [l.d.n]

pairing: Mob Boss!Lando Norris x Assistant!Reader wc: 1.0k cw: slight dubcon (they kiss while reader is under influence and without permission), possessive behavior, he is a red flag lowkey? an: and when the world needed her most, she came back (after crying for 2 weeks straight and slapping herself to pull it together)... chat i didn't cook with this one pls dont flop.

You could feel people's eyes on you even as you left the hall, talking quietly among themselves as you clung on tighter to Landos arm, almost trying to make yourself invisible.

You could hear their still hear their sighs of pity, following you out the building.

You knew exactly what they were whispering were about.

It wasn’t a secret that Lando was a playboy, and now everyone assumed you were just another one of the bodies in his count. You were madly in love with him, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face the fact that you were just another thing he would claim, sooner or later.

As the cold wave of realization and sadness washed over you, you let go of your grasp around his shoulders, gently prying his hands off you as you stood still. You hadn’t drunk enough to be able to forget a whole car ride home.

“Sir, this doesn’t look right, I think you should just let me go home by myself.” You mumbled, head hanging in shame as he turned back to you. The alcohol wasn’t wearing off quick enough.

“Leave you alone? Drunk?” He said, tone incredulous as you looked at him.

“Mmmh, I could just call an uber…?” You trailed off, noticing the look of annoyance on his face. He rarely hid anything from you, especially not his displeasement.

“An uber? I don’t think it would be very wise of me to leave you alone like that, I'm surprised you could even suggest such a thing while I'm still here.” He said sternly, reaching out to grab your hand firmly. “C’mon, you’re in no state to leave on your own baby.”

His car was parked at the corner, lavish from the outside and especially on the inside as you slid in, letting go of his hand as he shut the door with a smile.

The car ride was met with a charged silence, comfortably settled between you. You could see the city lights from your window, beating brightly in the distance. You kept stealing glances at him every now and then, watching as the light from the streets passed over his eyes, jewelry glinting softly. His hand gripped the wheel as he drove, humming something softly. The song playing softly in the background seemed to tune out as his hand intertwined into yours.

It was just too calm. You just couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Sir, i just wanna ask-”

“Lan.”

You paused, taken aback by the sudden interruption.

“I’m sorry?”

“Start calling me Lan again. I miss it.”

You hadn’t called him that in ages, not since the days of your early and very short friendship. You wondered what could’ve brought it up, but you were in no place to say no.

For a moment, you wondered if he felt the same.

“Sir- I mean Lan, what are you doing this for?”

“So what, I can’t do nice things for you?” He chuckled, cringing slightly as the edge in his voice betrayed him. His hand slipped away from yours and you wanted to grab it back, but shame kept you from doing so.

“Well, i just assumed that you just wanted to-” He turned towards you, eyes dark as he looked you up and down.

“Assumed that I was doing this just because I wanted you in my bed? Have you been listening to what all those worthless people whisper about you and me then?” He tsked, clearly peeved by the things coming out of your mouth.

“Isn’t that what you did for all the other ones too? I’m just one of many-” His grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white.

“Who said that you were one of all those other ones, baby?”

His words cut through the ache in your heart like a knife. You almost couldn’t breathe, thoughts filling your head at what he’d just said.

"Baby, who said that you were one of all those other ones?" he repeated softly, his voice gentle in comparison to the deadly smile on his face.

You swallowed hard, finding it hard to think under his intense glare. “I- I don’t know. I just thought that maybe we’d be better off parting ways because clearly people don’t-”

“You’re such a liar baby, you know that?”

“What?” Your heart dropped.

You hadn’t realized you had reached his sprawling mansion, the lights coming alive as you came to a sharp stop at his doorstep.

He hadn’t unlocked the door handles either, turning off the ignition and then turning to you.

“Such a liar, baby.” There was warmth in the laughs he let out, yet his expression was unreadable as his hand gently cupped the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. Can you imagine how mad it made me up to see you look at other people like that?” He hissed, lips almost up against yours.

You whined as he moved away, smirking at your state.

You wanted him desperately, and he knew. “Can’t you see that I want you? And don’t lie, I know you want me too. Don’t think I haven't seen the way you’ve looked at me.” He cooed, leaning into you.

You faltered, unable to form a coherent response as Lando’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch comforting and suffocating at the same time.

“I want y-“

But before you could utter another word, he pulled you in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. He gnawed at your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth, the aftertaste of champagne overpowering it all.

You broke from it, inhaling deeply before he pulled you in once more, relentless in the way he greedily devoured the air from you. His grip on your nape had loosely returned, thumb running up and down the back of your neck before his hand slowly ran down the backless dress.

You pushed him away again, softer this time as you choked on the sudden intake of air.

His head ran up and down your back, eventually wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him.

“I want nothing on me but you, have I made that clear? I love you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Lando.”

“Say it back, please.” He begged, a slightly pout forming in his face.

“I love you too, Lan.”

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foldingfittedsheets · 3 months

Text

We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.

I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.

Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.

Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.

Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.

I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.

We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.

But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.

I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?

Fancy.

She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.

It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.

It almost worked. But instead the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her assassination had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.

My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on murder was a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.

Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.

But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.

#ramblies #writing #story #funny story #true story #horses #horse #horse girl #ffs foibles #pony

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hxt1b · 4 months

Note

This request is really cliché I'm sorry 😭

Sukuna's friends made a bet to go hit on the reader and not soon after his arrogant ass starts to feel bad and of course reader would find out about the bed and angst this angst that

How would he solve the situation?

THANK U 💋

Right babe, I love this shit, cliche's exist for a reason!

"i miss you, i'm sorry"

-> Sukuna x afab reader - Motocross AU, same world as "i knew the day i met you you'd be the one" (choso one shot).

-> CW: Sukuna is not a soft man, he never will be - BUT he's desperate for you. Yuji and Sukuna hate each other. Smut Warning [grinding, nipple sucking, hair pulling, rough sex not a lot of foreplay - quickie really]

-> WC: 2.4k

Masterlist | Prompt List

A/N: okay I started writing this and spiralled. I thought I would have finished this the day you sent in the request, but seeing as I got carried away it took long lol. Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun writing this! That being said idk if its the best written, but regardless I still hope you like it!

Guilt was a passing emotion it always would be. Every emotion was passing. Especially for Sukuna, a month ago he'd felt terrible, then miserable, now he was at the end of his rope - desperate. this is the longest he felt something for someone. The strongest he's ever felt for someone.

Your face flashed in his head, crumbling as your eyes filled with tears.

"He's lying right?" You'd asked pointing at Yuuji. The motherfucker was standing to the left leaning against the door jam, his hands tucked into his pockets, an amused look passed over his features before he schooled them back into a sneer. Sukuna's hand itched to break the kid's nose again.

"No."

That was it. There wasn't anything else to explain, there still wasn't. But there was something to say, something he had to tell you.

The bet was fleeting. Everything is fleeting. Especially for me. But you….

You weren't answering your phone. You had him blocked, and he couldn't understand. why wasn't this fucking passing and fleeting, why was the hurt and pain still they're stuck in his damned chest.

Why were you standing with Yuji? Your hands crossed over your chest a painfully beautiful smile spread across your face as you laughed at something that Yuji said.

Sukuna was leaning on his bike, his racing gear on. The black polyester stuck to him after his race. He'd beat Choso today, he should have been on a high. He hadn't just beat Choso, he'd beat everyone. Come in first place. But the elation that he'd feel for a good hour or two with a win like this was absent. It was won out by the anger and despair in his chest at having you so close but not looking at him. Not talking to him. Not touching him.

Ditching his helmet on his bike, he decided he'd had enough of your silent treatment, he deserved it sure. But Sukuna never really cared about what he deserved, he cared about what he wanted. And what he wanted was you, your words, your anger, your tears, your smiles, your laughs, your skin on his, your mouth on his. You.

He ignored everyone as he neared the group, he ignored anything they said or tried to say. He shoved passed Yuji, letting the kid stumble back into Choso, who caught his brother by the shoulder and glared at Sukuna, but didn't say anything. It probably had to do with the girl under Choso's arm. Sukuna's sister.

None of that mattered right now though. Because Sukuna didn't fucking care. His eyes were geared on you and his hands already grabbing at your wrists. You tugged away and swore something, said something with an indigent tone. Sukuna didn't hear anything. He pulled you, holding your body close to his as he cut a path towards the towering building that hosted the plethora of shit that had to do with Motocross, including his dressing room.

He shoved you into the room, locking the door behind him before charging across to you where you pushed yourself into the wall.

"Sukuna," You started but he cut you off. Anything you had to say didn't matter. What mattered was that you understood that he was at his wits end with you, and that his emotions were bubbling over in a flurry of anger and lack of control and patience.

"No." He said, just before he pressed a harsh kiss onto your lips, his mouth moving against yours coaxing you to move with him, to open your mouth to him.

You gripped the front of his uniform and pushed him back.

"Fuck you." You swore, your eyes alight with anger of your own.

"You can," Sukuna replied and kissed you again. Again you pushed him back, this time shoving him harder forcing him to take a step back, you slipped out from his hold.

Sukuna quickly spun around and grabbed you again, his arm lopping your waist, stopping you from leaving.

"Listen to me." He tried again, his fingers circling into your top.

"You're not talking. Besides I doubt you have anything to say."

"It was a bet." He started and you snorted. Sukuna narrowed his eyes at your reaction, he expected it but it still bothered him. He turned his head into your hair and sought out your ear, quickly pulling the lobe into his mouth and nipping at the soft skin.

You gasped, turned around and shoved him off of you.

"It was a bet, but does it matter?" He asked, letting you take a step away from him. He didn't care to sound eloquent or soft. He just had to get it out. "Does it matter if by the end everything I said was true? I fucking meant it."

"Why on earth would I believe you?" You asked. He didn't look away from you, his fingers flexed at his side. Everything was telling him to grab you and kiss you again. But he didn't.

"Why would I lie now?" Sukuna asked.

"Why wouldn't you?" You retaliated and turned away from him to leave. Sukuna's heart pounded in his chest as you walked out the door. He took a second but quickly followed you into the hall. His hands grabbed at you again pulling you back to him and then straight towards the wall.

He crowded you, pushing his face towards yours so that his forehead was resting against yours. You scowled up at him, twisting to get out of his hold.

"How can I prove it?" He asked, his voice filled with desperation. "Tell me. I'll do anything."

"Nothing." You answered. He let out a large breath from his nose, a deep ache settling into his chest.

"You're being difficult." He said, trying to keep his voice calm.

You snorted, "fuck off Sukuna."

"No." He kissed you again, you didn't kiss him back, not immediately, but he pressed into you tighter. the ridges of his body cutting into yours. Your head tilted up cradled in his hands delicately. His lips were light against yours, moving slowly asking you to move with him. Slowly you did, your hands curled around his wrists as you let him kiss you. As you kissed him back.

He groaned against your mouth before pulling away from you.

"Just listen to me." He said. You looked up at him, your eyes still showing your hesitation. "Please." The word was a breath, a soft plea.

Sukuna never said please. You faltered, and let him pull you back into the dressing room. He let you go, and you walked over to the small couch and sat down. He closed the door and locked it before turning to you his hands tucked into his pockets to keep from reach out to you.

"It was a bet, but it didn't stay a bet. You hang out with Yuji and Choso that's what prompted the bet anyway. it was hard to get you on that first date. Remember?" He paused, and you kept your eyes on him. "But it wasn't a bet when I took you on the second date, or the third or the fourth. Or when I kissed you, or when we had sex. Anything after asking you to go on that first date wasn't a bet anymore. Not to me."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You asked.

"No."

"Okay." You got up again to leave. Sukuna watched you and didn't move from his spot. "I listened. Goodbye Sukuna," and you walked out. He didn't stop you this

time.

Sukuna watched you from across the room. You were talking to Megumi, your face burrowed in his phone as you giggled at whatever he showed you.

Sukuna was a couple of drinks in and the booze was burning in his blood. He'd said what he could and you'd still walked away. He was angry.

Angry that you walked away. Angry that Yuji told you. Angry he took the bet. Angry that you were laughing at something Megumi was saying, that your hand was holding his bicep.

Somewhere in his head Sukuna was sure he shouldn't do what he was about to do. But he was drunk. He finished what he had in his cup in two large gulps and headed across the room.

His hand gripped the nape of your neck as he came upon you. His eyes glared at Megumi as he pulled you into his chest.

"No goodbye." He muttered and began to drag you down the hall, corralling you with his body.

"Fuck Sukuna, you can't do this again." You argued. But he wasn't listening. He pushed you into a room and slammed the door with his foot keeping you in his hold. His free hand cradled your jaw and pulled your head towards his. His fingers dug into your cheeks as he lowered his head so that his nose was brushing yours.

"You listened. Thanks. I didn't. fuck your goodbye." He said and kissed you before pushing you down onto the bed. You gasped quickly rising onto your hands to sit up but he was already pushing down onto you, his body pressing you into the mattress, his hands returning to your hair, his lips back on your skin. Pulling at your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

He sensed your anger but he didn't care. You were melting under him and maybe the weed you'd had earlier was helping that. He didn't care.

"I messed up. But I refuse to mess up more and let you go." He muttered into your skin. "You're mine. Even if you think you're not. You are."

You gasped again when he took your nipple into his mouth through your top. He moaned against you, his hips grinding into yours.

"Your nipples were taunting me across the room." He muttered around your peaked bud, "You know how much I love your tits and you wore this shirt that I got you. Am I supposed to believe that's just coincidental?" He knew it wasn't. He was asking to taunt you.

You ground your hips up into his finally rubbing back up into his hard-on. He groaned and the heat gathered in his spine he was consumed by you, his pull on your hair tilting your head up as he angled his hips to grind against yours.

You were panting already, your skin heated under his. His cock was twitching with every shaky breath you took. He watched your face. Before letting go of your hair and sitting up on his heels.

"Look at me." He prompted, and your eyes fluttered open, your heated gaze landed on him and for a second his heart stopped in his chest.

"Be angry at me, be pissed, hate me. But do not for one second think that you're not mine. That at the end of the day, you don't end up under me. That you can leave. You are mine. Do you understand?" He kept his voice low and smooth as he spoke. His hands moved on your bare torso, pushing your top up so that your breasts were bare to him.

"Wishful thinking." You muttered, the anger still in your words. "Just cause I'm letting myself do this with you today doesn't mean I forgive you. Or that I'm yours."

Sukuna smiled down at you, your hips still moving against his hard cock, your cunt rubbing at him through your clothes. Sukuna gripped a tit, rubbing at the nipple with his thumb making your body shudder under his hand.

"Oh babe, I think that's exactly what it means." He said and grabbed for your pants moving your legs up so that he could get them off, he took your panties with them. Once they were off he chucked them onto the floor, your legs fell open as he slotted himself between your thighs.

His thumb dragged through your folds, stopping at your clit and pressing onto it. Your mouth fell open and your eyes stayed glued to his. He leaned over and let his other hand caress your face his thumb trailing your lip before settling at the corner of your mouth.

"Fuck me." You breathed, taking his thumb into your mouth. Sukuna's chest flooded with heat as he watched your suck on his thumb. His hand left your heat and pushed at his pants taking his cock out and letting the cock head pass through your heated folds.

"Condom." You breathed. Sukuna bit back a scowl, you hadn't used one before but he wouldn't push it tonight. He pulled away from you sitting back again as he pulled a condom from his pocket and put it on.

He lined himself up with you again and slowly pushed in. Your loud moan vibrated around in his head forcing him to drop his head back as he sank into you. Grabbing your hips tightly as he did.

Both of you said nothing as he began to rock into you, his cock stretching you with each deep and slow drag, your hands scrambled in the sheets as he gradually picked up his pace his eyes watching your tits bounce as he went at you harder and harder, until your eyes were rolled back and your breathing was stuttered with moans and whines. His name falling from your lips mixed with curses and pleads for him to touch your clit because he wasn't letting you do it yourself.

He pulled out of you pulling you up into a sitting position before pulling you into his lap as he sat down against the head bored. You sank down on him again, your head rolling back as you moaned, Sukuna grabbed at your hair pulling your head back further. His mouth hot around your nipple as he pulled it back into his mouth. You rode him, grounding your hips with his pulling moans from him that meddled with yours.

He conceded when you begged for him to touch you, his fingers drawing slow circles on your clit. He was getting close, the oppressive heat pushing at his body driving him to fuck up into you harder. Bite at your skin more aggressively. Dig his fingers into your skin until his fingers cramped.

You came a second before him, your body writhing into his your hands gripping at his hair pulling. All this triggered his own release, he came in the condom with a groan. His hips still stuttered up into yours as he worked through his orgasm. You whined at the stimulation, your head resting against his, your soft moans pushing his orgasm out until he was spent and panting into your skin.

"You're coming back with me." He said softly leaving no room for you to argue. You closed your eyes and settled against him for a second, not able to argue anyway.

Send me a request!

~hxt1b, feb 19 2024

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togenabi · 8 months

Text

my home is where your heart is

inumaki toge x reader

♡—your things keep winding up in toge's place, and his things in yours. what are you going to do about it?

word count♡— 1k

genre♡— fluff. pure fluff

content notes♡— blushy toge, established relationship, moving in together, dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light vibes, megumi gives advice

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is an overdue request! anon, if you see this I'm sorry this took me a while! I kept it short, but did not hold back on the fluff. please enjoy!

“Toge,” You call for your boyfriend, who is currently sprawled over your couch. “Have you seen my charger?”

Toge looks up from his phone, pausing for a moment to think. After briefly looking confused, he lights up and lifts his hands to sign, ‘I think you left it at my place.’

“Ah,” Not again. Must this always happen? “Remind me to get it back next time we’re there.”

He nods and gets up, gesturing for you to hand over your phone. Toge moves to charge it with his own charger.

“Thanks.” You kiss his cheek, relishing the way he blushes. Flustered, it takes him more than one try to plug the charger into the wall socket. You can’t help but shake your head at him. He’s just too cute sometimes.

About the case of things going missing, however, it happens to Toge too.

You were cleaning up your apartment when it suddenly started raining. Thoughts of Toge in the rain immediately caused you to worry, but you managed to calm down somewhat. He should be fine since he has an umbrella.

Only, he doesn’t. You stare at the compact, foldable umbrella in horror. It’s positioned beside yours at your apartment’s entryway.

Toge, completely drenched, arrives at your place an hour or so after that. Luckily, you anticipated as much, and already had a change of clothes, towels, and warm food ready for him.

He gives you a kiss on the cheek this time, walking backwards into the bathroom, forming a heart with his hands and a goofy smile glowing on his face.

The more time you and Toge spent in each other’s places, the more your things seemed to shuffle about. Your book on his desk. His jacket in your closet. An accessory of yours on his bedside table. That snack he bought is somewhere in your cupboard. It was getting confusing, how your lives were getting tangled up in two separate places.

“The solution is obvious, isn’t it?” Megumi asks one night when you bumped into him at a convenience store. “Move in with him.”

“Oh.” Speechless, you can only blink at him in response. “We’ve never really talked about that.”

Megumi shrugs, “Sounds like that talk’s overdue, if you ask me.”

And maybe it is, because you’re seriously considering it when you can’t find a single pen in your apartment. Why do ballpens vanish when you need them, and why are there so many of them when you don’t?

But of course, you find your favorite ballpen in a mug Toge had turned into a pen holder, sitting with his other pens and markers.

You must have been staring at the pen—at his desk—for quite some time. It makes Toge look at you with concern in his eyes.

“Takana?” He asks, checking on you while resting a hand on your arm.

Snapping out of it, you try to gather your courage to bring up living together. There’s no reason for him to say no, right? And you’d be fine whichever place he chooses. Or maybe, you could meet in the middle and look for somewhere new?

The thought of apartment hunting with Toge strangely sends butterflies in your stomach. But before you get ahead of yourself, you have to properly ask him about it first.

“What do you think about living together?” You blurt out, and your heartbeat feels rapid and unsteady. Suddenly, it feels like you’re confessing to him all over again.

Toge breathes out a laugh, pulling you into his arms. Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he accepts. “Shake.”

“Really?” Stunned that it was that easy, it takes you a second before you return his embrace. “Where should we go?”

He pulls back to kiss the tip of your nose cutely. Smiling, he motions to sign, ‘Wherever you want! I’ll follow you anywhere.’

It takes several weeks of planning and headaches, but you and Toge manage to find a new home. It’s close by, still in the same neighborhood that you’re used to. You didn’t want to move too far from this community and your loved ones.

Other than that, your main goal was to find a place with more space than either of your previous residences. You wanted to organize storage properly. Contrary to your expectations and true to his word, Toge wasn’t picky at all. He was just happy to always be close to you.

As you were unpacking food and supplies in the kitchen, you looked over at your boyfriend. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, configuring the wifi.

“Toge, should we have food delivered? Or would you like to cook in the new kitchen?”

Mouthing, he responds, ‘Cook.’

You gasp, delighted he chose so. “Okay! Let me know if I can help you.”

He quickly fiddles with the wifi router before waving at you to come over. You laugh, “I meant I’d help with the cooking, but sure.”

Toge gets up, taking one of your hands in his. He presses something on his phone before reaching for the other.

The expression on his face is playful and sweet as he places your hands behind his neck; your fingertips brush against the ends of his hair. Music starts playing the moment he holds onto your waist.

It’s strange, nothing has changed about the room. You’re still surrounded by countless unpacked boxes from the move, and yet the apartment has never felt so vibrant.

Is it the music? The song he played fills the space and bounces back from every corner, breathing life into your new home.

It could also be the way he dances with you, making you feel like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. No other’s company you’d rather have.

Or, it must be all of that and how he looks at you while he mouths, ‘I love you.’ Because you love him too.

A few days later, while out on a date, Toge asks if you’ve seen his charger.

You hum in thought. “Did you leave it at home?”

Amused, he looks at you funny before pointing to your heart. ‘Is it in there, then?’

“I don’t understand.” You admit, waiting for him to elaborate.

‘My home is where your heart is.’

taglist: @flowerjun @songsofadelaide-archive @mellozhi @luccaaedd @ihaveanexistentialcrisis @starszns @msmisasoup @appalost @akakaze @isentsworld @hellyyy06 @lownna

1K notes · View notes

onelittlespiral · 6 months

Note

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

#hypnosis #bro #transformation #musk #preppy tf #jockification #fml #muscle tf #changing #reality change #straight to gay #jock tf

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hairyjocktf · 2 months

Text

New Recruit

Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.

He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come.

Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.

The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.

“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”

Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.

“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!”

His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant.

“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.

“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.

“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him.

“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”

“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”

“Yes.. sir,”

“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”

Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.

“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes.

Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.

Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height.

The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.

Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform.

The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.

Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body.

The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.

Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin.

Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.

Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.

“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest.

“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”

Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.

“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch.

The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”

Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.

Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.

This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.

#male tf #hairy tf #jock tf #hair growth #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy back #beard #military tf #my writing

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