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casiia · 1 year

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OMG OMG OKAY HEAR ME OUT. ghostface ethan edging reader after reader receives a phone call from him…!!?!?!?!!!

[ 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]

pairing .: ethan landry x reader

genre .: suggestive content

word count .: 2k

warnings .: smut-ish (minors dni.), contains scream XI spoilers! scream plotline, threatening, mentions of a knife, soooo unedited, kissing, lingering touches, dry humping

author's note .: maybe planning on making another part to this <3 i have no idea if this is what was actually requested, but i had a lot of fun writing this! took a massive break from writing and i think i’m back, this is probably very ooc and might make no sense but i have zero experience writing thriller things like this idk. dialogue was used from the 1995 (or 7) scream movie. accepting constructive criticism, reblogs are appreciated.

“hey, pretty girl.”

pulling the phone away from your ear confused, you checked your screen to see who was on the other line, frowning slightly when you saw no contact.

“who is this?” setting the home phone back on it’s stand, you let the call ring out on speaker, turning your attention back to the stove.

“there’s no fun in telling you who i am just yet, why don’t you answer a few of my questions first.”

rolling your eyes, you shook the pot once more before turning to lean against the counter, the buttery smell of popcorn filling your nose. “why should i do that?” speaking over the loud crackles and pops coming from the fire, you moved around the island to grab a bowl.

“it’ll be fun. so tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“hm, i don’t know.” pouring the yellow kernels into the large bowl, you popped a few pieces into your mouth with a satisfied hum. grabbing the phone and turning it off speaker, you pressed it between your ear and shoulder, balancing the device steadily. “maybe, halloween? think that’s the one where that guy stalks the babysitters.”

“you think it was scary?”

“i guess, anyways. tell me who you are now.” ungraciously falling onto the couch, you picked at the pieces of popcorn that had fallen into your lap, licking your lips with a smile as a salty taste covered your tastebuds.

“can’t do that princess, haven’t finished asking my questions.”

“then hurry up and ask them already.” annoyance showing on your face, you reached across the many throw pillows and grabbed the remote — clicking through the channels with disinterest, before going to browse your downloaded pick of scary movies.

“you got a boyfriend?”

eyebrows raising in shock, you stilled with a quiet laugh. “why, wanna ask me out on a date or what.” you teased the person on the other line, shifting in your seat as you began to ponder who you were really talking to.

“we’ll see, do you have a boyfriend?”

“no.” placing the overflowing bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you stood to make way to your room, keeping the chunky phone against your ear.

“that’s a shame, such a pretty one you are.”

biting back a smile, you switched the light to your room on; bending down to open your drawer of pajamas, you tossed an oversized shirt onto your neatly made bed. “you gonna be this charming to me when i find out who you are?”

“maybe.”

“got anymore questions for me, or can i start guessing who this is.” unbuttoning your jeans, you kicked the pair of uncomfortable pants off . turning the speaker back on, you tossed the phone onto your pillow, pulling your tank top up and over your head before slipping on the big shirt.

“go ahead, you’re giving me such a good show.”

“what are you talking about?” picking up the dirty clothes that you had left stranded on your floor, you walked into your connecting bathroom, putting the clothes in your dirty hamper.

“hm, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing. where did you get it?”

eyes widening in surprise, you slowly turned back into your bedroom, your knuckles white as you gripped onto the phone. “can you see me?”

“ah what a good girl! putting her brain to some use.”

“if you can really see me, how many fingers am i holding up?” walking up to your window, you peered outside trying to get a good look. sticking out your middle finger, you squinted as you stared into your dark backyard, trying to piece together unfamiliar shadows.

“funny, one.”

“shit.” shutting your blinds in hurry, you stumbled out of your room, quickly heading back downstairs. “who is this, jason?”

“from econ? no.”

“you better leave me alone, my boyfriend is coming over soon.” closing the blinds to your backdoor, you shuffled into your kitchen, grabbing a large knife. “he’s strong, s-so get out of here!”

“i thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?”

“w-well i lied!” locking your front door, you turned down all the lights, curling into a corner, knife in hand. your breath was ragged, eyes darting from place to place in worry. “tell me who you are before i call the police.”

“quit being such a brat, the fun isn’t over just yet.”

chewing on your lip, tears lined your waterline as fear overtook you. anxiety creeping up your throat with every shallow breath you took. “this isn’t funny.” you flinched at the loud noise emitting from the buzzing device, a staticy and robotic laugh filling the eerily quiet apartment.

“you look so cute with that knife. what’re you gonna do, stab me?”

“show yourself, you coward!” standing from the hardwood floor, you paced around the kitchen, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill down your pink cheeks. frustration and anger burning in your chest, when the anonymous caller laughed again.

“careful what you wish for.”

a loud ringing echoes from the phone as the call ends, the wind whistling against the windows has you whipping your head to each sudden noise. pressing yourself up against the wall, the knife that you held a safe distance away from you.

“where are you, motherfucker.” your voice just barely above a whisper, you jumped at the sound of your doorknob rattling – a fist loudly knocking against the wood of your door. “go away! i’ll kill you.”

“baby? hey, what’s going on it’s just me.”

“ethan?” letting the knife drop to the marble of your kitchen countertop, you winced at the loud clang. running to your front door, you stood on the tip of your toes, peering through the peak hole to see your boyfriend awkwardly standing in front of you. twisting the lock, you threw the door open before jumping into his arms.

“what’s wrong? did you forget i was coming or something?” pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he circles his arms around your waist with a hesitant laugh.

“no- no. this guy just prank called me, i was so scared.” pressing your face into his shoulder, you gripped onto his coat, muffled sobs racking from your chest. “he saw me, ethan.”

“no, pretty, don't cry. i’m sure it was just some sick joke.” gently pulling you away from his tearstained coat, he cradled your face in the palm of his hand; wiping your wet cheeks, he pressed a light kiss in between your brows. “relax, no one’s gonna hurt you as long as i’m here.”

“can you stay the night?” leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. “don’t think i can sleep without you.” twirling his thick brown hair between your fingers, you sighed heavily, relaxing in his embrace.

“of course, i was planning on it anyway.” adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he squeezed your hip once nudging you inside your apartment. “don’t want these creeps lookin at you, especially without pants.”

shaking your head with a smile, you wiped your remaining tears with the back of your hand, sniffling quietly and shuffling back inside. “lock it, please.” grabbing his bag, you tossed it onto the sofa, the sound of a lock clicking easing your shoulders.

“you were really scared, huh.” ethan laughs at the abandon knife on the counter, picking it up and putting it back with the other collection of cooking knives.

“i was, that was the creepiest interaction i’ve ever had.” dragging your hands down your face with a huff, you walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back. “y’should jus’ move in with me.” your words muffled, you felt his chest rise and fall with another laugh.

“i was the one that made that request, i’d rather live with you than chad.” he loosened your arms around him, dragging you around his body so you were caged between him and the counter. “i am really sorry you had to go through that, did you call the police?”

“no, i think there are worse things to worry about. it was just some silly call.” rubbing your arms nervously, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself of any crazy thoughts. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore, how was your day?” pulling yourself up on the countertop, you shuddered lightly when your bare skin met with the cool marble.

“uninteresting, just caught up in some classes, i missed you a lot.” moving in between your legs, he dragged his fingers against your thigh, teasing the hem of your shirt higher up your leg. “is this mine? i’ve been looking for it.” inching his hand up your shirt, he squeezed your hip, his thumb trailing along the lace of your panties.

“mhm, it’s comfortable. didn’t think you’d miss it much.” sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest, drawing little circles into his shirt. looking up at him through your lashes, you licked your lips, your fingers settling at the base of his neck. “ethan…”

“what is it, baby.” bringing his other hand up to your cheek, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “want me to stop?” moving to retract his hand that found it’s way under your shirt, he looked down at you with worried eyes, scared that he had read the room wrong.

“no! no. i want you, ethan.” grabbing his wrist, you bring his large hands back to your body, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his collarbone. “do you— do you want me?” guiding his hands under your shirt, you whined softly, his cold fingers grazing your stomach.

“oh fuck.” mumbling under his breath, he pressed his lips to your forehead, glancing down at your exposed panties; pretty and pink, decorated with a white lace, a small bow stitched right in the center.

“gonna answer my question?” trailing along the seam of his belt, you played with the hem of his shirt, your lips lingering on his skin with every word you mumbled.

“i do, baby. let me make you feel good.” rubbing up and down your sides with a light chuckle, he gently patted your waist. “you deserve it, such a good girl.”

tugging at the collar of his thick coat, you pressed your soft lips to his with a happy hum, your fingers entangling in his curly brunette hair. swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

ethan grinned against your lips, snaking his arm around your waist to grind his clothed crotch against your damp panties. “s’wet for me, haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

gasping into his mouth at the roll of his hips, you squeezed your thighs around his waist yearning for more. “please, ethan.” your words blurred together as you continued to kiss him – you tugged lightly on his hair with a mewl, the bulge showing in his jeans nudging your clit.

“so needy, can’t wait–”

a deafening ring cuts him off, his phone softly buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. letting your hands fall from his hair and atop of his shoulders, you shook your head with concern. “ethan, no.”

“relax, i bet it’s just chad.” giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the red phone. tilting his screen, he showed you the number on the screen, one that he had not previously saved. “recognize it?”

“no, i wasn’t shown a number.” anxiously playing with your fingers, you kept your eyes glued to the vibrating phone. “put it on speaker.”

nodding at your request, you watched him accept the call, letting it play out loud. “who is this?”

“hello, ethan. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

🏷 .: @loaksbitch @sullybby @vmptears my stinky ethan landry apologist

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

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legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain.

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be.

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said.

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that.

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him.

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone.

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top.

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.”

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious.

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?”

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality.

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office.

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document.

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that.

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.”

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?”

He sends you a pointed look.

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home.

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back.

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down.

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to.

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately.

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute.

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna.

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both.

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment.

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with.

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else.

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call.

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes.

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers.

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.”

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back.

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face.

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand.

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up.

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.”

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.”

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily.

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible.

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts.

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking.

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you.

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad.

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter.

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.”

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her.

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding.

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple.

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands.

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you.

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers.

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning.

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!”

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air.

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd.

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better.

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her.

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.”

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.”

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment.

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone.

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack.

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America.

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?”

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

��There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest.

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!”

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase.

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning.

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you.

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling.

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground.

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs.

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never.

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today.

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side.

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe.

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need.

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away.

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about.

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now.

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face.

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment.

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you.

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile.

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…”

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it.

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door.

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her.

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut.

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix #legally binded

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the-doomed-witch · 9 months

Text

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Yeah, she’s your ex. But can’t two people reconnect? // based on bad idea, right? by Olivia Rodrigo

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY; MINORS + MEN DNI. exes with benefits?, very little to no plot, dom!reader sub!nat, oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), use of names (whore, angel), ig that’s all lmao

Author’s Note: well i wasn’t going to write this but i did it in like 30 minutes with no proof reading so if this is horrible kindly pardon 🙏

(gif credits to creator)

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // READ ON AO3 // REQUESTS CLOSED

— ✦ —

You stare blankly at the notification as soon as your phone lights up. Why are you smiling at it? You don’t even want Wanda to know about the reason. “Uh, Wanda, could you excuse me for a minute? I need to get this one.” You feel rude interrupting her, but maybe it’ll put you in the best place.

Leaving your friend perplexed at the table, you get up and walk to a corner of the café. Soon as privacy is ensured, you dial her number, “What’s up?”

“Fuck. Your voice, Y/N.”

“God, Natasha. Why are you like this?”

“Are we still meeting tonight?”

“You think I’ll not turn up? After the night on Tuesday, seriously?”

“That was so hot, I’ll have to admit.”

“Shut up. I’ll see you later, bye.” You hang up the call and immediately scurry back towards Wanda, face adorned by a radiance of excitement.

“Now, what’s that smile about?” She rests her chin on her right palm, “Something I should be knowing about? Or rather, someone?”

“Oh it’s nothing. I just, um, got some shit sorted out.”

“I think you’re hiding this person from me. Tell me about them.” She gives you a typical wink to accompany her curiosity. You couldn’t dare tell her about Natasha, Wanda would most certainly throw you into the lake without a second thought.

It felt bad, it really did, but Natasha was just so good. Who was to know about it anyway? There were no feelings left anymore, both of you knew that this arrangement was only meant for casual sex.

Your break up wasn’t amicable, and Wanda had to give whatnot to try to at least avoid violence of any kind. It was more tedious for her than the job usually would have been, because she decided not to exercise her powers. Of course, brainwashing and manipulating two people into breaking up nicely was obviously the easiest option, but not the most righteous one.

“Y/N I swear if it’s-”

“Stop! We just want to keep it a secret. Jeez, let me have some privacy!” you blurt out, face flustered at the thought of being caught. You lowkey regret it, knowing well that your words hurt Wanda.

“Fine. Do whatever the hell you want.”

— ✦ —

You ring the doorbell, waiting outside Natasha’s apartment. She doesn’t take more than a second to swing the door open and pull you inside. As soon as you’re inside, she pins your back against the door.

“You’re right on time, baby.” She says before clashing her lips against yours in the dense heat between you two. Suddenly, your entire body is on fire, and her hands are trying to tame it.

You’re quick to throw her t-shirt off to the floor, making yourself room to bite on her skin without a care.

Neither Nat, nor do you realise when the two of you are naked. Maybe it happened on the way to the bedroom, maybe inside it - you couldn’t care less. All your mind can think of is fucking the woman to soreness.

“Gonna be a whore for me tonight again, aren’t you?” You slowly trace your fingers down to her pelvic arch, practically combusting her insides.

“Yes. Yes I am. Fuck-”

“Mind your language. Or you know what punishment you get for that.”

She groans, writhing beneath you. Her body was worth worshipping, you could never admire Nat enough. The scars across her abs were even sexier. You start by gently tugging on her nipples, in awe of her perfect arch - the way her chest rose and fell, the sound of her hissing at your pinching.

“Y/N, please. Please, please, please.”

“Please, what? Use your words angel.”

Her thighs get into a tightening clasp against each other. There is no way she can hold herself back for another minute. “Please Y/N, touch me. Fuck, ruin me. I need you.”

“You are irresistible.”

Satisfied with her pleas, you decide to go down on her. Each of your hands spread her thighs apart, giving yourself complete access to taste her. Your tongue moves along her folds, often teasing her lightly.

Nat’s hands entwine themselves in your hair, pulling you as deep inside her as she could. A tiny breathy whisper against her cunt jerks her entire body, “So wet, so perfectly wet, baby.”

She moans your name over and over till it echoes inside your head. “Oh my God Y/N. There, ah- right there-” Her grip on your head intensifies. The pain is of no significance to you when you can wholly gorge yourself on her pussy.

It doesn’t take her long to get close to her climax. “Ca- can I come?” she asks you between heavy breaths and difficulty. You immediately pull yourself back, ceasing all your tongue movements. Her undeniably agonised scream makes you smirk. “You think you could get off so easily, angel?”

“B- but I-”

“B- but I-” you mockingly repeat her thwarted stammering. You softly push a tress of her fierce red hair from her neck and bend down to nibble on it. Her chest heaves against your own torso, so you place a hand on her to calm her down. Her heartbeat is almost in your hands, as you feel it against your palm.

Nat’s hips slowly buckle and she begins to rub her intimacy against your thigh between her legs to relieve the burning sensation inside of her.

“You’re so pretty when you’re needy. I love it.” You plant another kiss below her ear before stopping her hips in place. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, you penetrate her hole with your fingers. “Fuck. I love it when you’re so tight for me.”

Your fingers pump in and out of her quickly, as you feel her clench and get closer to an orgasm again.

You don’t let Natasha get a chance to ask for permission, her words are drunk down by you in another kiss.

A little more stimulation on her clitoris does it. She gushes white onto your palm, rolling her eyes with pleasure. You let her have some time to bring herself back to reality.

Her sweat is still fresh and her breath is still heavy when she says, “Tell me more of it Y/N.”

“More of what, angel?”

“What else that I do that you love.”

You meet her eyes for the first time in the past few hours. They’re greener, more vibrant than you’d last truly seen them. “I love it when you come, I love it when you lose your breath because of it. I love it when you beg for me. I love it when you repeat my name again and again and again. I love it when-”

“Fucking goodness.” she says before pulling you down for another kiss. A sigh is elicited from her when she tastes herself on your tongue, as your hand reaches down to grab her ass tightly.

“Let me return the favour, would you now?”

“You don’t really have to…”

She doesn’t listen.

— ✦ —

“Y/N, you fucking never listen!” Wanda screams at you when you reach back to your apartment the next morning. You give her a confused and perplexed expression, unsure of what she meant.

“Don’t give me that look, I know you slept with someone and it’s Natasha!”

“Dude, it’s like 8 in the morning, and I literally never even said whose bed I was in. Could you calm down?”

“It was her, wasn’t it?”

“What if I tell you it’s not her? Would you leave me the fuck alone? I want to sleep right now.”

Wanda gives up and sighs. It was never in her power to make you understand anyways. Was it really difficult for her to comprehend that two people can just reconnect?

Your phone lights up with another text message.

Are we seeing each other tonight?

You reply: Sounds like a bad idea, I’m in. You should probably not. But whatever, fuck it, it’s fine.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha smut

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tkaulitzlvr · 9 months

Note

heyyyyy!! just wanted to start by saying i legit love ur writing so much ur one of my fav TH authors and i legit love seeing and reading ur stories. THEY R SO DAMN GOOD :)

anyways here the request if ur comfy lol IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG AND I NEED SOMEONE TO DO IT PLS QUEEN

soooo basically like 2017 soft dom tom and like we r in a car driving and like reader is rlly horny and hes teasing her LIKE CRAZYYYYY and resting his hand on her thigh and stuff and whispering dirty stuff to her giving her small neck kisses and pecks and like other teasing stuff (LOL IDK WHATEVER U WANT JUST SHIT TONE OF TEASING) and then when they get home he completely ignores reader and acts like it never happened and just acts normal and goes to watch tv on couch but then reader gets RLLY CLINGY and comes over and THEN STARTS TEASING TOM ON COUCH and like reader whispers stuff to him and neck kisses and the tom gets rlly nervous and then he gives up and like eats her out till shes BEGGING HIM TO STOP (so like some overstim) and then they fuck and yeah just smut smut smut. and tom and reader with praise kink and lots of dirty talk pretty pls. <3

HAH SORRY THAT WAS KINDA LONG AND DETAILED BUT YEAH ITS LEGIT MY DREAM STORY. pls only write if ur comfortable but yeah u can add whatever u want that would fit with the story and YEAH PLS MAKE IT GOOD!!! (u will ur amazing) yeah thankyouuuuuuuuu <3 :)

DESPERATE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you can’t contain yourself, basically throwing yourself at tom. he knows it, but wants to make you wait as long as he can, and it drives you crazy. but, he makes you realise that you should be careful what you wish for.

content: smut

a/n: thank u so much anon i’m glad u love my work, and i hope this lives up to ur expectations. also never written for older tom before so thanks for being my first req to write him🙏

he saw the glances i sent his way, the way my legs squeezed together, palms becoming a little sweaty. he noticed my breathing becoming a little erratic, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, feet tapping impatiently against the floor. he knew exactly what i wanted. but, even when i leaned over, running my hands across his inner thighs, closer and closer to his clothed dick, he kept his eyes on the road, knowing that he was driving me crazy, and he liked it.

“thinking of ordering pizza for dinner. you down?” he asks, completely ignoring my hands which are now directly over his crotch, and my eyes on him, filled with desire. he knows exactly what is doing, the slight smirk tugging on his lips telling me that, and i know that he won’t give up his little game yet. i am in for a long night, my eyes set on feeling him inside of me, willing to do literally anything to get that satisfaction, completely aware that he isn’t going to make it easy for me.

but, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease me either.

“mmm, i’d rather have you instead.” i mutter, knowing that he heard me.

we stop at a red light and he turns to me, his eyes dark, a familiar look of lust present within them. that same smirk is still on his face as he slowly leans over, planting a slow kiss just below my ear, his breath tickling the skin as he whispers into it. “who says you can’t have both?”

my eyes widen, the heat between my thighs only increasing, his words quickly causing me to become flustered, my cheeks flushing a light shade of crimson. he sees this, a small laugh escaping his lips as he plants soft kisses at my neck, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the harsh metal of his lip ring as it dances around the skin of my neck, my head tilting to the side to give him better access. his actions are abruptly cut off by the sound of a horn behind us, tom’s head shooting upwards, the traffic lights already having turned green.

he quickly adjusts himself, flashing me a quick wink before pulling his head out of my neck and beginning to drive away. my eyes focus on his hand on the gearstick, the way his veins flex, fingers tightly holding onto it, wanting nothing more for them to be moving inside of me. as if he had read my mind, he removes his hand, placing it onto my thigh, letting it travel further upwards, moving closer and closer to the place i need him most, his head still facing the road as he looks blankly at it as if he isn’t teasing me to the point that i could scream.

he moves his hand flat against me, and my body jerks in shock, his fingers slowly rubbing my clothed clit, he sees the reaction he gets out of me by doing this, smiling to himself before abruptly moving his hand away, returning it to its previous position on the gearstick as i whine in frustration.

“baby why’d you stop?” i sigh, placing my hand over his and trying to move it back over my heat, but he refuses, keeping it set on the gearstick.

“stop acting so impatient, liebe, or you know you won’t get anything. be good for me and maybe i’ll give you what you want, you just gotta wait till we get home, mhm?” he taunts, watching the way i quickly nod my head, smiling at my obedience, placing his hand back on my thigh, torturing me as his thumb begins slow movements over it.

so i stayed put, trying to distract myself literally however i could, the drive home seeming like hours as each second wasted time, time that could be spent with him inside of me. the teasing never stopped, tom kissing my ear, neck, collarbone, cheek, anywhere his lips could access whenever we stopped at a red light, promising that he’d give me what i so desperately needed once we got home. so i held on, restricting myself, his words keeping me going, acting as motivation as the reward of holding back was completely worth it.

a sigh of relief escapes my parted lips once he turns onto our driveway, my hands scrambling to undo the seatbelt, literally unable to contain myself at this point. tom however, takes his time, not stepping out of the car until i have reached the front door, unable to get in as he pulls the key from his pocket, slowly unlocking the door. i expect him to move onto me the second we walk in, pushing me against the wall, attacking me with kisses, showing me that he meant his promise, but he does the opposite.

he slowly kicks his shoes off, walking into the kitchen as i stand there, pissed off and feeling completely let down. i join him in the kitchen as he stands on his phone, leaning against the counter, a smile forming on his lips once he sees me walk in.

“what pizza do you want babe? i’m feeling like pepperoni.” he utters those words so nonchalantly, as if the things he had said to me, the way he had touched me in the car were all figments of my imagination. i mumble a small ‘get me anything, i don’t care’, before trudging to the living room, sexually frustrated, completely done with his teasing.

he joins me soon after, patting my thigh gently as he sits beside me, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the channels as if i wasn’t sat next to him, bored and desperate. i had reached my breaking point.

“tom…” i trail off, leaning towards him, my lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck, taking note of the way his breathing begins to quicken, knowing that i am slowly getting to him. but he doesn’t show it yet, his expression still blank, eyes still set on the tv in front of him.

“baby…” i mutter against his skin, my hand reaching for his crotch, palming him as a low groan emits from his now parted lips. he shuffles in his seat a little, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. still nothing. i reach underneath his t-shirt, my fingers tracing his abs, feeling every muscle, lips still attached to his neck. he doesn’t give in, keeping me waiting, which only frustrates him even more, but i can feel him slowly giving in, only motivating me more.

“please, i promise i’ll be good…” i slowly say, looking upwards at him before climbing onto his lap, straddling him as he has no choice but to look into my eyes. “i’ll be so good…”

i repeat my words, dipping my head so that it is underneath his chin, kissing his neck once again, sucking gently on the skin as i try to leave marks. but i am not finished yet. i slowly begin to grind against his clothed dick, moving back and forth at a teasingly slow pace. it doesn’t take long for his hands to grip at my hips, completely stopping my movements. bingo.

“so fucking impatient.” he mumbles, switching us around in one swift motion as he lays me on the couch, moving on top of me and messily colliding his lips with mine. “couldn’t wait at all could you, hm?”

i say nothing, too busy focusing on the way his lips move against mine. he clearly isn’t wasting anytime as i feel his hands move to my leggings, hooking his fingers around the hem, tugging them and my panties down, raking them down my legs and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. my own hands scramble for his t-shirt, taking it off of him and letting it find the pile of clothes on the floor, my own t-shirt and his pants following, only his boxers between us.

he reconnects our lips as a quiet ‘please’ escapes from my mouth, wanting more than just a kiss, having waited all night for this.

“please what? you know you have to use your words schatz.” he teases, his forehead against mine, waiting for me to speak.

“need you to touch me.” i whine, my hands finding his neck as i play with the loose strands of hair, watching the way he nods his head, seeming satisfied with my answer.

he crawls downwards, kissing each part of my body as he does so, nipping gently at the skin, enjoying the way my breathing is fast and heavy, low whines escaping my mouth. he reaches my inner thighs, still planting small kisses, one hand on each leg as he forces them both apart, letting his head rest in-between them, stopping his motions and looking upwards at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“you sure?” he asks, knowing full well what my answer is, using his breath to ask such a pointless question, knowing that it will only get me more riled up.

“yes tom just- fuck! touch me, ple-.” i sigh out, my pleading soon cut off when i feel his tongue delve into me, my mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as i my hands find their way into his hair, pushing him further into me.

“oh my god!” i cry, feeling his tongue hit all the right spots inside of me, knowing that it won’t take long for the familiar knot to form in my stomach, his teasing meaning that the smallest of touches had the biggest effect on me. he groans against me, the bass in his throat sending a vibration through me, yet another moan spilling from my lips, his name never being said this many times before.

his pointer finger finds its way to my clit, rubbing slow circles whilst his tongue continues to drill inside of me, my release building up inside of me.

“getting close. don’t stop, oh my god please don’t stop!” i beg, my hands lost within the thick strands of brunette hair, the previous tidy bun messy thanks to me, but he didn’t seem to mind, only focused on feeling me get to my end.

his tongue touches my g-spot, a high pitch moan unlike no other i had uttered coming from the back of my throat. he picks up on this, directly hitting that spot over and over, my vision clouding, eyes rolling to the back of my head, way too lost in pleasure to process the fact that the knot in my stomach had released, tom swallowing all of my juices. i expect him to stop, my chest heaving up and down, coming down from my high, every part of me sensitive, but he keeps going at a fast pace - if not quicker than before.

“too much! can’t take it.” i breathe out, my thighs squeezing against his head, careful not to apply too much pressure, but he only smiles against me, completely ignoring my pleas.

“you wanted me to touch you.” he mutters into me, replacing his mouth with his fingers so he can speak more clearly. “so that’s what i’m gonna do schatz.”

and he sticks to his words, his tongue moving back inside me, the overstimulation quickly taking over, my entire body jolting when he hits the sensitive spots inside of me, unable to take the pleasure.

“please…i can’t…too much…”

my words are incoherent, not able to form full sentences as i feel another release building up.

“not stopping until you say the word baby.” he mumbles against me, referring to our safe word that i have only had to use once. he knows that i won’t say it, secretly enjoying the pleasure despite the pain that comes with it, taking all of it in. “you can give me one more, doing so well.”

i take in every single word of praise he gives me, using it to work through the pain, focusing on the pleasure, using it to guide me to my release, my eyes squeezing shut, head falling backwards as it takes over, my back arching off of the couch, this one much more powerful than the last. he swallows everything, planting a few kisses on my lips as i wince, completely spent. my body lays limp on the couch, his moving upwards so that he is hovering above me. he kisses me softly, his thumb reaching upwards and wiping a few tears that i hadn’t even realised had fallen.

he sits up, taking his boxers off, stopping them at his knees, not even bothering to fully remove him. he lifts my body, sitting me on top of him so i am straddling him.

“you did so well baby. you think you can handle just one more, for me?” he asks, running his hands up and down my hips, watching as i tiredly nod my head, a small smile spreading across his face.

i position myself onto him, slowly sliding downwards as he fills me up.

“fuckkkk.” he drags out, his head falling backwards and resting on the top of the couch, his hands tightly holding my hips, fingers digging into the flesh.

i stop about halfway, feeling completely full, not sure how i will be able to take all of him. he sees that i am struggling, kissing my cheeks gently , moving down to my collarbone.

“you feel so good baby, keep going, you’re almost there. shit- so fucking good.”

low groans escape his mouth as i nod my head, continuing to sink onto him until i am fully sat on him, my mouth dropping open, wincing a little at the pain, his fingers nothing compared to the size of him. i place my hands on his chest, trying to steady myself as i begin bouncing up and down, tom moaning loudly, his hands never leaving my hips, watching me move on him.

“so fucking tight, oh my god…” he sighs out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shut as i speed up my movements, whining as he hits a totally new angle, never feeling so good, so full before.

his forehead glistens with sweat, muscles flexing every time he squeezes my hips, his fingers leaving marks into my skin, but i don’t complain, the feeling only increasing my stamina. my walls clench around him unconsciously, tom groaning whenever i do it, the feeling only bringing him closer to the edge.

“just like that.” he groans, his voice deep. “yeah, shit baby- feels so good.”

after my two orgasms, it doesn’t take me long to become tired, my movements slow and sloppy. my body collapses onto his chest, frustrated as i am getting close, unable to get there myself. he notices this quickly, beginning to thrust upwards into me, loud moans echoing throughout the room as i try my best to meet his movements, rotating my hips a little, feeling him deeper inside me than i ever have before.

“i’m close. don’t stop.” i manage to say, messily colliding his lips with mine, his tongue exploring my mouth whilst his strokes remain strong and deep, hitting all the right spots.

“me too baby.” he mutters between kisses. “almost there, you’re doing so so well.”

his dick twitches inside of me as he thrusts in and out a few more times, before his cum shoots into me. his head quickly falls backwards, eyebrows furrowing, mouth falling open as a long groan falls from it, his release triggering my own as i clench around him for the last time. he thrusts a few more times, riding out our highs, our heavy breathing and skin slapping together the only thing sounding throughout the quiet room.

he kisses my lips once more, pulling apart as his forehead leans against mine, arms holding me within his embrace, skin pressed together.

“you did so good meine liebe. took me so well.” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath as i am unable to respond, totally worn out, my body weak as it rests in his for support.

his lips gently kiss my forehead, one hand running through my hair whilst the other gently strokes my back, his breathing calming down as he utters sweet nothings in my ear until i fall asleep within his embrace, completely exhausted.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz

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itsjaywalkers · 4 months

Text

a lil smth under the cut for u guys <3

part 2 part 3

"Potter, if you dare to step any closer, I swear I will knock your teeth out."

Potter halts his advancement as soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, but Regulus remains tense, alert, shoulders stiff and hands itching to curl into fists. Maybe it's because he knows Potter more than enough after all these weeks of watching his matches and interviewing him after them. Weeks of listening to him brag, and taunt, and flirt shamelessly, despite Regulus always being set on retaining some sense of professionalism.

Maybe it's because of the way he smirks at Regulus' threat, or how he raises both hands in mock surrender, the gesture lazy and insincere.

Or maybe it's the fact that they're alone in the ring, even though Regulus should've left with his crew more than half an hour ago. And the fact that Potter isn't wearing a shirt, but he seems to be allergic to them, anyway, so it's not like it fazes him at this point.

That's what he keeps telling himself, at least.

"You can certainly try," Potter says with his hands still up, and offering a tiny shrug. "I don't know if I like your chances, though."

Regulus narrows his eyes. "You don't think I can fight you?"

"I don't think you can win."

He crosses his arms over his chest as he lets out a scoff, and Potter's smirk seems to grow bigger at the sound.

"And why the fuck not?" Regulus questions.

"Because I'm a professional boxer, love," Potter explains, his voice patient, but there's a certain mocking edge in his words that makes Regulus grits his teeth. "I wouldn't be where I am if someone like you could touch me."

"Someone like me?" Regulus repeats a bit incredulously. He can already feel that one vein in his forehead starting to pop out.

James chuckles, shaking his head a little. He finally drops his arms down. "You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't. And I'm not sure I want to."

"C'mon, love—"

"Don't call me that."

"—you don't even know how to throw a punch."

Regulus blinks at him, not sure if he's heard correctly, and then he does a double take, barely repressing a derisive snort.

"Excuse me?" he murmurs. "Of course I know how to throw a punch."

"You think you know how to throw a punch," Potter corrects him, that infuariating smile still in place. Regulus is tempted to prove him how well he can actually throw a punch just to wipe it off his face.

"I mean, obviously I can't do it like you do, you're a professional athlete, for fuck's sake—"

"Oh, love, don't worry, I'd never hold you to my standards," Potter intervenes with a laugh, eyes shining with mirth. Regulus face is beginning to heat up, and he isn't sure if it's because of anger or something else. "I'm not talking about a boxing punch. I'm talking about a proper punch."

Regulus exhales loudly, fingers twitching. "Potter."

"Yeah?"

"I know how to throw a fucking proper punch."

Potter raises an eyebrow and he lets his gaze to go up and down the length of Regulus' body, slow and intentional. Regulus has a hard time not squirming, battling against his instincts to keep his face empty, to stop his thighs from pressing together.

"I bet you don't," Potter comments, once his eyes finally find Regulus' again. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't make breathing any easier. "You're too pretty to have been getting into fights."

Regulus is unable to suppress an indignant huff, cheeks coulouring at an alarming pace while his expression twists into a scowl.

"You don't fucking know me," he seethes, jaw so clenched it's slowly becoming painful. "You've got no idea of how my life looks like, or what I've done to get where I'm at."

Potter seems unbothered by the outburst. In fact, he kind of looks a little entertained.

"Maybe so," he concedes with a tilt of his head. "But I know you'd break easy."

Regulus' heart skips a beat. "I don't—"

"Just look at you," Potter goes on, staring him up and down once again. He still sounds slightly mocking, but there's something else in his tone this time. Something darker. "So fucking gorgeous. Holding yourself like you're goddamn royalty. You're feisty, and you're sneaky, I'll give you that, but you'd fold embarrisingly fast against me, wouldn't you, love?"

Regulus gulps, throat suddenly so dry it feels like sandpaper. He tries to shake his head, but his body isn't responding, and when he opens his mouth to snap back, nothing comes out of it.

"You like to act all tough and cold and as if nothing can touch you, but if I were to lay my hands on you—"

"Potter," Regulus manages to spit out, but it sounds hoarse. Weak.

"Oh, you'd break so beautifully for me, right, love? You'd put a bit of a fight at first, because you can't help yourself, and I like that about you anyway, but you'd let go at some point."

"Potter," he tries again, and it sounds a bit sharper, but still too close to a whimper for Regulus' tastes.

"I'd fucking ruin you if you allowed me to, Regulus." His name makes him tremble, goosebumps breaking into his skin, and Regulus has to bite his tongue to stop an inappropriate noise from escaping. "I know you want to. You're really fucking stubborn, and you almost fooled me that first time, that's true, but one can only keep that facade for so long. I've seen how you look at me."

"And how do I look at you?"

"Like all those girls who can't ask me for an autograph without blushing, thinking of me when they have their hands between their legs," Potter responds, gaze so intense it makes Regulus want to scream. "Like your cameraman whenever I stand a bit too close to him, always shifting his body the slightest bit so his shoulder grazes mine. Like Lily whenever I'm between her thighs, and she's begging me to let her come."

Regulus almost gasps, burning with fury but also with something that has nothing to do with it.

The audacity of this man, really. Regulus hates him. Despises him, even. Him and his absurd amount of confidence that has no business being this attractive.

It's hard to pretend to be unaffacted. To pretend he doesn't feel a stab in his stomach by that last statement, by the thought of James and Lily being together, even though it's something he's known almost since the beginning. To act like he doesn't care, like he isn't fucking aching between his legs, wet and hot and desperate.

Regulus doesn't think he completely manages it.

"You're so fucking full of yourself," Regulus grinds out, digging his nails into his arms so hard he's sure to leave marks.

"And yet I'm not hearing you deny it," Potter sing-songs, still grinning widely.

"I don't like you," Regulus insists, raising his chin.

"But you want me to fuck you."

This time, a strangled sound, high-pitched and bordering on needy, manages to slip out of Regulus' mouth, and James shows teeth, that feral light that appears every time he wins a match shining in his brown eyes.

"You wish," Regulus says, trying to save whatever dignity he has left, trying to fix this stupid mistake, this amateur slip up.

"I do," Potter confirms with ease, and Regulus can't swallow properly with the knot he has stuck in between his vocal chords.

"Shut up," it's all that Regulus can get out, which is quite pathetic, but still better than nothing.

"That's still not a denial," Potter points out, satisfaction oozing of him and making Regulus see red.

"I literally can't fucking stand you. I don't think it's necessary for me to tell you that I don't want anything to do with you," Regulus snaps. "Besides, if so many people are tripping all over themselves for you, then I don't understand why you're not bothering them instead."

"Because I want you."

Regulus actually chokes after that, a gulp of air getting stuck in his throat and his heart beating madly between his ribs.

"No." He shakes his head, furiously, desperately, and takes a step back almost at the same time that Potter takes a step forward.

"Yes," the other man presses, undeterred. "I want you, Regulus."

"Potter. Shut up."

"I can make you feel so good, love. You need to stop depriving yourself."

"Potter."

"I know you've thought about it. About me. I'm sure you're thinking about it now, about how amazing I'd feel between your legs, on top of you. Inside you."

"Potter. Stop."

"I bet your underwear is fucking soaked—"

"James."

It slips, sneaking past his lips without Regulus' permission, going unnoticed until it's too late to stop it, or take it back. He has the silly urge to cover his mouth with his mouth, as if that'd be enough to erase the word, the power and implications that name holds.

The reaction is almost immediate.

James' pupils spread out, eating at his irises at a concerning pace. Regulus is so distracted looking at them, that it takes him a moment to realise James is advancing, rushing towards him like a man on a mission.

Regulus retreats, nearly falling over in his haste, doing his best to get as far away from the other man as possible. But James is faster than him, and his back ends up colliding against one of the pillars of the ring. James has his arms bracketing his head in a matter of seconds, and all of a sudden, Regulus is trapped. With absolutely nowhere to go.

"Get away from me!" Regulus exclaims, voice all wrong and wobbly, hands coming up to push at James' chest but not daring to touch.

"Say it again," James demands, completely ignoring him.

"What?"

"Say it again."

Regulus scoffs weakly. "I don't want to."

"Regulus."

"Get. The fuck. Away. From me."

"Regulus."

It shakes him to his very core, and he's helpless to the shudder that rattles his frame, to the way his eyes screw close, so very tight his vision fills up with shiny spots.

When he opens them again, a few moments later, he ends up meeting James' hungry gaze head on.

It destroys the last of his defences.

"James," he repeats in a whisper, heat coiling in his stomach at the other man's intake of breath.

"Again," James asks, almost demands, voice low and strained.

"James."

"Again." And it's a beg.

"James."

"Yeah," the other man mumbles to himself. "Yeah."

James leans forward, and Regulus feels like he's about go into cardiac arrest until James turns his head at the very last second, mouth grazing the lobe of his ear instead of his lips.

"I'll teach you," he tells him softly. Quietly.

"What?" he asks, hardly breathing and refusing to move a single muscle.

James huffs, and it's amused. "How to throw a punch."

"My brother already taught me," Regulus retorts with a roll of his eyes. "And he's better than you."

"Was better than me," James shoots back, and despite this being a topic that usually annoys him, always getting him all petty and defensive, it barely drags an irritated sigh out of him this time.

"Winning one match doesn't mean anything."

"Except that it does."

"No, it doesn't. Sirius' been unbeatable for literal years, and he's worked his arse off to get to where he is, and you'll never—"

"C'mon, love," James whines against his ear, and Regulus has to swallow a gasp. "I'll lend you some comfier clothes and I'll show you how to stand and some tricks, make sure next time I'm being too much of a prick you can shut me up nicely. Maybe you'll even break my nose."

Regulus bites his lower lip, refusing to allow the corners of his mouth to curl upwards. "That does sound good."

James chuckles, and Regulus doesn't acknowledge the way that sounds fills his chest with warmth.

"So? Okay?" James wonders.

Regulus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Hopes he won't come to regret this, and sends a silent apology to his brother.

He opens his eyes.

"Okay."

#been thinking about them lately #and i couldn't help myself #besides i haven't written anything in like . 5 days #i was actually going insane #anyways this is severely unedited and it's almost 3am and im fucking knackered #so im sorry if it doesn't make sense #but well i tried #and i had fun which is what matters etc #boxer james agenda

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nyxindustries · 5 months

Text

Lock Down | Tony Stark

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Insert, T.S x Fem! Reader x Older x Younger Characters, Tony Stark x Y/n! Reader

Word Count: 2,000+

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, SMUT, Dom! Tony Stark,Sub! reader, Rough Sexual Intercourse, Explicit Language, brief smacking, ‘Daddy’ Name calling, semi-Slow burn (not really), Kinky Sex, Hair pulling, Scratching, Explicit Sexual read, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!)

| Masterlist |

Overriding the passcode to the lab since your lovely boyfriend Tony Stark officially locked himself in the lab because of stress with a new Iron Man suit.

The doors open to the lab as you step into the cold lab you see in the one single spotlight on above a hunched-over man on the table mumbling to himself as it looks like he’s trying to assemble part of a new Arc Reactor into the Iron Man suit with holograms all around him to help his work.

Setting down the tray of Tony’s favorite food on his desk that’s filled with little gadgets that you assume are new because you’ve never seen them before.

Quietly walking up to him as much as your heels allow as you stand behind him watching him build and solder a piece of metal together. It’s fascinating to you that Tony can get so lost in his work and look so beautiful while doing it, so laser-focused in his eyes with his eyebrows scrunched inward because he’s trying to make sense or putting together pieces of information in his mind, the wrinkles that appear on his forehead as his face goes relaxed.

Clearing your mind as you watch Tony's hand move to an object and your hand quickly covers the object as your free left hand snakes up his shoulder.

"Mhmm" Tony hums as he slowly looks at you and he places his hand on top of yours making you smile at him.

"Hi, how are you doing?" You ask gently and Tony gives you a look as his glasses tilt slightly.

"This Arc Reactor is not responding to the suit and I have no idea why…" Tony says quietly to you as you just nod knowing nothing about how all of this works. You're a SHIELD agent, you fight and try to save the world from aliens if possible.

"Anyways, it’s not your problem. What are you doing here?" Tony asks as he turns to you and you hand them the tray of food, which is two cheeseburgers and fries and onion rings.

"To Bring you your favorite food, thought you might need it. Put on a tray to be fancy" You joke with a weird mimic of an upper-class voice in the word ‘fancy’ making Tony smile but he doesn't laugh and he always laughs at your silliness or jokes. That's when you know he’s stressed as you watch him grab a cheeseburger and take a few quick bites as he shoves some of the fries in his mouth before turning around to the piece of the suit.

"…Tony…" you say but he goes back to soldering making you frown as you look around finding the plus as you quickly pull it out of the outlet making Tony instantly look up.

"What was that for?" Tony asks quickly as he reaches for the plug.

"Take a break! Eat something! Stop locking yourself in the lab!" You say him as you throw the plus across the room causing the soldering pen to fly across the table and fall off so Tony won’t touch it.

Tony giving you a wide-eyed look like he always does when he is stressed and when you decide to give him a break.

"Y/n-….Urghhhh" Tony groans out in frustration as he goes to get the tool but you quickly stop getting in between him and the table.

"No. Take a break." You say to him

"Make me! I need to finish this!" Tony says to you but you push him back.

"No, you’re not. Not today." You say and Tony stares at you.

"And who is going to stop me?" Tony asks and you smirk at him.

"I am, So take a break…" you say and Tony stares into your eyes as you stare back and your hands go to him.

"It will be good for you to clear your, Tone…" you say quietly as your hands slowly go underneath his shirt as he looks down at your hands.

"…y/n….I-I… I don’t have the time…I’m on a deadline." Tony says very quietly and you just chuckle.

"A deadline that’s next week…you have time and enough time to take out your frustrations too." You say as your hands skilled in what they do back off and come out of Tony's shirt as they pull your buttoned-up blouse out of pencil pencil-tight skirt, and start unbuttoning the buttons.

Tony watches you as you help you with buttons there and then until your breasts in a beautiful red lace bra are revealed.

"Take a break…it won’t be too bad." You say in the quietness that filled the air.

Tony's hands go to your waist as he lifts you to the lab table quickly. He takes one hand and clears the table with his arm by throwing everything off in one swoop with his arm, not caring about his work.

"You’re right, a break is what I need…Hey, Jarvis…Shut down the lab with soundproof…no one enters." Tony demands from his A. I just chime as the windows, doors, and glass all go dark and black with security screens from within the glass that Tony somehow installed and shut with security locks.

Staring at you as you feel his fingers crawl up your bare stomach now as his fingers hook underneath your bra and chase around to the hooks on the back that he undoes his one shot your bra falling as Tony yanks your shirt and bra off now, throwing them across the giant lab.

Tony's other hand, slides up your thigh underneath your skirt as he feels no underwear causing him to smirk, you planned this. The older man fingers gently caress your pussy causing you to shudder in pleasure for a moment as you hold your lips close so nothing can escape from them.

Seeing that smirk made your breath hitch in the quiet lab as Tony's eyes carefully trailed you up.

"Oh, no underwear…mhm that’s bad, baby girl…what if someone else saw what’s mine?" Tony questions and you just chuckle.

"Trust me, no one did…took them off right before I came in here…" you say with a smirk on your face as Tony grabs your chin tightly almost making your lips pucker as he forces you to look at him.

"You’re a brat…planning this so I can just fuck all my frustrations out on you," Tony says and you just stare at him.

"Yes." You choke out.

"How badly do you want?" He asks

"I want it hard, daddy." You choke out and Tony smirks at you as he lets go of your chin. It's bright red from his fingers.

"What else do you want?" He asks as he sees your hands slip into his pants you can see the growing tension in his pants.

"To please you daddy…" you say confidently as you push Tony back from you as you slip off the lab table completely undoing his pant button and zipper as his pants fall exposing his underwear and underneath with his hard and his growing cock.

Grabbing Tony's shoulder as you turn him around, pushing him against the table as he stares at you going down to your knees as your fingers hook the hem of his boxers and pull them down as a red throbbing big cock leaking precum springs out in front of your face making you smile. Hands grasping his cock firmly at the base as you start pumping him fast and hard making him groan out Tony's hands go to the side of the table to grip onto them as he looks down watching you as you lick your lips.

Sticking your tongue out as you lick one long strip onto his cock as Tony groans more at that sensation of your tongue as your wrap your whole mouth around him as you slowly started bobbing your head up and down on his cock causing Tony to groan out more audible moans.

Hearing his moans encouraged you even more by each one as you started sucking wildly causing Tony's hand to grab a fistful of your hair as your hands went down to hold onto his thighs tightly.

"OH FUCK! How did you get so good at this, baby? God" Tony moans out loudly as you feel him jerk himself inside your mouth making you look up at him. Bobbing your head wildly faster again as you feel Tony thrust his hips into your mouth causing his cock to hit the back of your throat you immediately felt tears well into the back of your eyes but you couldn’t care less about those tears as you for gag as Tony pushes your head into his cock making you gag even more as your mouth made his cock disappear making groan out.

Tony held your head there as your tongue swirled all around his cock and the tip like a lollipop before Tony removed your head and your mouth with a loud pop coming from the suction you had.

"I want you to take all this cum in you…You’re gonna take it, baby." Tony growls as he lifts you by your hair causing you to smile.

"U-…Y-Yesssss, Tonyyy." You slightly moan out as you suddenly feel yourself against the table staring out into the lab as Tony rips your pencil skirt off of you. Tony smacks your ass roughly a couple of times causing you to yelp as he flips you around making you look at him.

Your hands go to Tony's shoulders as he slides right into he lifts into the table causing you to moan out as your free right-hand goes up to his hair and slides through it as you gently pull his hair in pleasure as your left hand and arm go underneath Tony arm and land on his back as your nails meet his back fairly quickly with his second push into you without warning.

Feeling tight hands on your hips as Tony pushes you into his cock as he starts thrusting, pushing your tightly sealed mouth to moan out and your nails dig into his back a bit more.

The thrusts started to pick up even more causing you to moan even more as you closed your eyes still gently tugging on Tony's hair and your nails dragging against his back because you didn’t know what to do with your hairs.

Clenching around Tony tightly causes him to groan as he starts losing himself he puts a hand on your breasts massaging them as he continues to thrust and thrust wildly into you making you a moaning mess, making you get so so so much closer.

“Oh god…I’m almost there..” you moan out, and as you let go of Tony's hair he pulls you up kissing you passionately as you kiss back.

“Fuck….me too…” Tony moans out as she continues to thrusts as they get sloppier, more drawn out as he starts slamming into you harder as his cock starts to twitch in you. Tony slams into you in more time as you start cumming all along his cock he begincumming inside of you quickly causing him to groan out.

Staring at Tony as you smile at him he very slowly pulls out of you making you whimper at the emptiness. Sitting up from the table as you sit on the edge and feel Tony's cum ooze out of you as he watches with a smirk and as he leans in kisses you again as holds you close to him.

“Was that a nice break?” You ask and Tony nods.

“Oh baby, it was perfect.” Tony says as you chuckle softly hopping down from the lab table.

“Wanna take more of a break in the shower?” You ask and Tony smirks softly

“Deadline isn’t until next week…I can make some room..” Tony says with a smirk as you grab clothes and quickly go to the private back way of the lab that leads straight to your bedroom with Tony he laughs while following you.

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gogobootz1 · 5 months

Text

The Mentor pt. 5

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: You throw a two-person housewarming party at your new Capitol penthouse

part four | part six

The hardwood floor is cold beneath your back as you look up at the ceiling. You haven't even had a full day here and you don't know how you'll get through this. When the phone rings you don't bother to stand. Reaching your arm up and feeling around on the couch-side table, you manage to grab it in time. “Hello?” You stretch the cord down to where you lay.

“You made it, then,” Finnick’s voice rings through the phone. “Sorry I couldn’t meet you at the station,” he told you he would, the consistent phone calls over the past two weeks have effectively established a friendship between the two of you. “Something came up last minute.” You have no trouble reading between those lines.

“I figured as much,” you shrug, “it was for the best anyway. I was sent straight to my first engagement when I arrived- didn’t even get to stop in the new penthouse.”

“Already? That seems cruel.”

“Tell me about it,” you shake your head and roll your eyes.

“How is the new apartment?” It’s large and towards the top of the building with private, elevator-only access. It disgusts you.

“Cold and lifeless,” you spit dramatically, and he chuckles a bit. “Well, save for an odd lamp,” you admit, curling up a bit to look at it.

“Don’t tell me you have the corn lamp.”

You bolt upright, “How did you know?” There's no way he could guess that there's a huge plastic head of corn that lights up neon in your living room.

“Because I can see it clearly from my apartment,” he tells you. You stand and make your way to the floor-length windows, stretching the phone cord to the point you pull the receiver off the table. You can make out a figure waving from a different apartment building in your same complex, and you wave back. “Were you lying on the floor?”

“Don’t judge me,” you say, still waving.

“Hey! How about a housewarming gift?” You can practically hear him smirking through the phone, and you amusedly shake your head.

“Sure.”

Soon enough, the elevator doors reveal Finnick, dressed casually but looking no less dashing, with a bottle in hand. “Whiskey for your welcome present," he offers, and you snatch it from his hand.

“And what a warm welcome it is,” you go digging through sleek new drawers to try to find a corkscrew. Finnick makes himself at home, hopping over the back of your couch and settling into it. Pouring two drinks, you walk around the furniture to join him.

“It’s worse in person,” he says, accepting the drink while staring at the corn lamp.

“I’ve been trying not to look at it,” you nod, taking a long sip. It’s smooth, too. Of course, he has expensive bottles just lying around, ready to share.

“I don’t see how you can,” he shakes his head, still staring at it, “it’s shining like the fucking sun.”

“Don’t burn your eyes,” you warn, setting your cup down on the glass table.

He still doesn’t look away, “Did they get confused? Think you’re from Nine?”

“No,” you say, now looking at the lamp too, “Whoever put it in here probably just forgot what Ten does.”

“Or they just didn’t bother redecorating before shoving you in here,” he shrugs. The two of you stare at it for a bit.

“Okay, now I hate it,” you admit, polishing off your glass of whiskey.

“Only now?”

“Well, I was perfectly content to ignore it before you waltzed in and started staring at it,” you say petulantly.

“You really could’ve ignored it?”

“Probably,” you defend, “it would’ve just melted into the background.”

“You’re deluded,” he shakes his head.

"Better than burning the image into my eyes,” you argue.

“You might be right, actually,” he admits.

“So now, what am I supposed to do with it?” Finnick finishes his drink before hopping up.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

First, he unplugs it and throws his hands out to re-present it to you. You give him an unamused stare and get up to grab the whiskey bottle.

Next, he drapes a blanket over it. You shake your head at the attempt, and he swiftly replaces the blanket on your sofa. Finnick takes the whiskey bottle from your hand to take a swig before his next attempt, despite your protests.

Then, he tries dragging it into a closet. The door won’t close all the way, and you give him a firm thumbs down. He pouts.

When he drags it into your all too large standing shower you slap his arm, and he snickers.

Finally, Finnick drags it into your elevator. At first, you are aghast, but then an idea comes to you. You grab his shoes and throw them at him in the elevator. He looks put out by this until he sees you slip on a pair of your own. Grabbing a coat and the blanket from the couch, you join him and the corn. You drape the blanket over his shoulders before pushing the button for the roof.

“Two prostitutes and a life-sized head of corn walk into a bar-“ he jokes, and you snort.

When the elevator dings, you drag the lamp off of it and through a thin layer of snow. It’s heavier than he made it seem, but once you get it a few feet onto the terrace it looks intentional. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Perfect,” he says, wrapping an arm around the lamp. “You know, I think I might miss this thing,” he turns to look at you, but moves too fast and stumbles, sending the giant lamp into the rooftop swimming pool.

You let out an audacious laugh, “Even better.”

“Now, how is this different from my shower idea?”

You give him a faux glare, before sitting down on one of the benches. He slowly joins you.

“Thanks for this,” you nod, gesturing at where the lamp bobs in the pool, “it was nice to get my mind off things. This is harder than I thought it'd be."

“Oh?” He asks softly.

You shake your head, “She’s pissed at me.” You fiddle with the sleeve of your coat. He looks over with furrowed brows, and you go on, “for my leaving so soon. Says I’m abandoning her when she needs me most.”

He knows you’re talking about Darla, “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You’ve given up a lot for her, she’s not allowed to make you feel guilty,” he asserts.

“Tell that to her,” you scoff.

“Maybe I will.”

“You can’t,” your hand shoots to his wrist, and the look in your eye says you mean business.

“I can at least tell her to back off. Your job was hard enough without what you’re taking on for her,” Finnick argues.

You shake your head, “She’ll laugh at you. She thinks I’m a glorified model.” He pauses at this.

“You still haven’t told her?”

“Why should I when it’d make her that much more indignant. She’s dealing with victordom poorly as is.”

“She has no inkling of what you really do?”

“Well, they do a mighty fine job hiding it,” you shrug, “the tabloids call you a playboy. My busy work around town usually explains my presence here, and I’m sure they’ll find a way to spin my extended stays.”

Finnick huffs, “You’re astounding.” He looks over his shoulder, out on the cityscape, snow gently nestling itself into his golden waves.

“I’m not quite sure how to take that,” you stare at his profile before turning to see the view as well.

“As a compliment, of course,” he says quietly, "you’re doing a selfless act and accepting backlash for it."

"What other choice did I have?" You shake your head.

"A lesser person would’ve made a different choice," he says assuredly, "but you couldn’t because you're the kindest, most noble person I know."

But you don’t feel like it. And you don’t feel like you deserve his praise. All you do is your best: trying to keep up appearances, keep it all together, protect who you love. And it doesn’t always work. Sometimes, it’s all out of your control, like dirt slipping through the cracks in your fingers. Your lip trembles, and you try not to let the tears in your eyes spill over, though the brisk air makes it difficult. After a moment, you center yourself enough to look his way.

He’s already looking at you, those big green eyes gazing into your soul, “You’re astounding.” There it is again.

You’re not sure you can bear to hear anymore. Removing an icy hand from your jacket pocket, you cup his cheek and plant a soft kiss on the other one. “Goodnight,” it’s barely a whisper, but you hope it makes up for leaving him alone in the cold.

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

I wrote the end of this first and made myself sad so I had to go back and write some goofy bullshit <3 in terms of the rest of this series I’m thinking two(ish) more parts and they may be collections of vignettes- we’ll see

taglist: @emerald-09 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @daixylie@imaegonstargaryenswife0@fandomhopped@axelinchen @whens-naptime @avoxrising @erindiggory @commanderfreethatdust @blackdxggr @maxinehufflepuffprincess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @melagemo0263

also I'm getting lazy, so no pic of him up top this time- sorry people

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games

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cerise-on-top · 6 months

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i am here humbly begging for more cod tickle fight posts pretty please i am soooo thirsty

Yeah, sure. Sorry this took so long, I planned something even longer, making a scenario for each character being on the receiving end, but that likely would have been over 8.000 words in total, so I scrapped the idea. All of these together are already at almost 3.000 words. Still have the prompts, though. Anyway, thanks for the request, I appreciate you sending something in. These are essentially a bunch of characters and or reader teaming up on each other. First three reader is on the receiving end, but then I wanted to spice it up a little and have some characters be on the receiving end. No Valeria since I had no idea who to team her up with.

Team-Up Tickles

Price/Ghost: You’d really need to get on their nerves if you end up the victim of the both of them. Sure, it can be done, just rack up the bad points with innocent things that won’t harm anyone. Put Price’s cigars where he can’t find them immediately or place a little frog in his hat, draw a heart on Ghost’s mask with red sharpie or throw a few grapes at him. As long as they know it was you every time they’re gonna get fed up eventually. It doesn’t warrant any serious punishment, and if they know all you want is just to play around a bit they’ll be even more likely to just gang up on you. They’ll calmly confront you about it, even if there is a certain air of mischief surrounding them, and do just about anything to make you back up into a corner. The more helpless you feel, the more you realize you messed up, the better. Price will grab your wrists with one hand and hold them so you won’t escape. Ghost starts off slow if he knows he can take his sweet time with you, figuring out where he can elicit which reaction in what way. Every once in a while he’ll simply stop, though, giving you a small break before picking up where he left off. I advise you to not kick, he’ll simply grab your leg and keep going there. Eventually, Price grows just the tiniest bit impatient and joins in. The sooner he can get you to fall to the floor or wrestle you down, the better because you won’t be able to fight back. A bit rougher than Ghost, he wants to make you scream so you might learn your lesson. This time, if you’re a real squirmer or kicker, Ghost will hold you down so you won’t escape. If Price straddles your hips, Ghost will hold up your arms, those two work well together. Once you’re completely tuckered out they’ll stop, leaving you a giggling, breathless mess. However, they’re not monsters, if they think they went completely overboard by accident they’ll stay with you until you’ve recovered a bit, scolding you for being so annoying and how you really shouldn’t put frogs in Price’s hat.

Gaz/Soap: In their case they probably simply felt like doing it, so they did. Since they had a tickle fight with each other beforehand they thought it would be a lovely idea to get you in on it as well. It all starts with them scouting the area for you. Once they found you, they’ll lure you somewhere you won’t be able to escape, preferably a soft surface like a couch or a bed so you won’t hurt yourself. Last step is for one to distract you while the other surprises you. Even if either of them gets elbowed, it’s absolutely worth it just to hear your laugh ring out. If they’re not both having the time of their lives simultaneously, then they take turns holding you down and tickling you. Anywhere they can reach is fair game. It’s not too hard to figure out which one is the dominant tickler either, both of them have their own style: Soap barely lingers on one spot for too long, he’s fairly rough and quick and never shuts up while he’s at it, always teasing you one way or another. It may seem almost frantic, but there’s actually quite a bit of calculation behind it. Gaz is more gentle, and lingers longer on the spots he deems to be your worst ones before showing a bit of mercy. He plays the long game and wants to tire you out more slowly so the fun lasts a bit longer. Not as teasy, but he does ask you plenty of questions he genuinely expects you to answer in your state. Both of them have a good time and if they aren’t out for your laughter by verbally teasing you, they’ll talk as if nothing at all is happening. Gaz and Soap are close enough with each other that they barely need to speak to each other out loud in order to know what the other is about to do. You’re just the cutest little thing to them, so naturally they’re gonna make sure you’re okay afterwards. Whoever you pushed away the least that time gets to hold you, the other one grabs you a glass of water to make sure your voice doesn’t falter completely. They’re gonna rib you a bit afterwards as you catch your breath, but if someone else gets too close to you when you’re that tired they’ll have to deal with two SAS soldiers ready to throw hands. Yes, they’re extremely protective of you in that state.

Alejandro/Rodolfo: You likely asked Alejandro to train you a bit so your chances of surviving an encounter would go up. That he does, he’s a good teacher when it comes to things like that, except you’d want to keep going when it’s obvious you’ve reached your limit and are beyond tired. Sluggish movements and delayed reaction times leave you almost entirely defenseless, but still you insist in order to make him proud and show him just how capable you are. Alejandro will give you two chances to stop for the evening, after that he’ll simply pin you down or against the wall and start having his way. He makes sure not to hurt you, his grasp on you is gentle enough to not bruise, but firm enough to make sure you can’t get away either. After some time, if you still haven’t given up yet, he’ll call Rudy over to help him. It’s an order, so there isn’t much he can do about it. As you’re still spilling some residual giggles, Alejandro will give you a small break, letting Rudy take the wheel for a moment as he still holds you down. Rudy will gently graze your skin, fluttering his fingers here and there. It’s not enough to make you laugh, far from it, but it makes you just a bit more aware of your situation. It’s fun to him, feeling you suck in your stomach or have it quiver under his fingertips, for example. Once given the order, he’ll be a bit more rough on you, even though rough is still a bit relative. He’s not fast either, he’s still gentle. Alejandro, if he’s in the right position, will claw at your stomach as he nuzzles into your neck. It’s not his goal to make you scream, but as long as you’re still audacious enough to fight him he won’t relent. Only when you finally give in and stop for the night will the tickling cease. Rudy will chuckle a bit, seeing those tears in your eyes as you barely even remember where you are, asking you if you need anything. Alejandro pulls you towards him, rubbing your back and making sure you won’t topple over again. If you’re on the verge of falling asleep then and there, they’ll carry you to bed as well. Ask either of them to stay the night and cuddle you, there’s no way they’re gonna say no.

Graves/Shadows: Due to Graves being rather affectionate with his Shadows as well as being a competent leader, it’s no surprise that his subordinates trust him a great amount. Yes, he can be serious when the time calls for it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever goof around. The Shadows love him, so they’re usually more than willing to team up with each other and you to surprise the commander. It takes a single brave person, ready to try and best him after he decided to work himself to the bone again, to cause an avalanche of playful Shadows to go after him. Graves can hold his own against them normally, but when he’s clearly outnumbered even he can’t do much. Cast the first stone, someone else will follow. Spider your fingers along his back, when he turns someone else will take your place. Despite rolling around, squirming, kicking, he likely won’t tell you to stop as it’s a nice team building activity, stupid as it may be. If you get him to lie on his stomach and scribble along his thighs he can muster up the strength to throw someone off of him just once. It may seem like aimless flailing to most, but he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, he needs to know which Shadows he needs to get revenge on. No matter how much you tire him out, he won’t forget a face. Since Shadow Company has quite a few people working for it there’s gonna be a huge discrepancy between their different styles, but what works best on Graves is being rough on his upper body while being fairly gentle on his lower body. It takes at least two to three people to make sure he won’t escape since, once he knows the attackers are coming, it’s way harder to actually get him to go down. Once he goes silent that’s usually your cue to stop, anything else he won’t take as kindly to. While it may not be too uncommon for him to be targeted, depending on the intensity of the fun it might take him a bit longer to recover. As I’ve said before, stay with him and make sure he’s okay, you’re doomed either way so you might as well make sure he recovers well. He’ll be a bit more gentle when he gets his revenge. Besides, there are a few Shadows who genuinely want that sort of attention from their commander, Graves knows that. He’s fond of them, so he’s not at all against indulging them every once in a while.

Alex/Farah: In this scenario we’re going to assume you and Farah wanted to show Alex some affection, thus deciding to sandwich him in a hug. That was really just the cover up to your plan of him having given you a tickle hug one too many times, resulting in you both itching to get your fingers on him. Naturally, Alex won’t say no to a hug from his favorite people, he welcomes it, in fact. You let him have that moment for a few seconds before you strike. One of you shoves their hands in his armpits, the other one goes for his sides. When he topples over whoever stands behind him gets to catch and hold him. It’s a spot he’s going to defend with his life, but brush your fingers against his neck or flutter them against the skin there, he’ll pull up his shoulder immediately to get you to go away. Alex can take quite a lot, but that doesn’t mean his reaction isn’t to try and shove you away. His giggles are sweet, almost a bit quiet, even his laugh isn’t too loud. Some curses here and there, sure, but he doesn’t mean any of them. While he may have some of his reactions under control, he’ll try to get away from the both of you but won’t start hitting you, opting for grabbing your hands instead. If that doesn’t work, he’ll make attempts to curl up. Realistically speaking, he knows there’s no danger since it’s just you and Farah, people he trusts, but he can’t help it, it tickles just far too much. Aware of his past crimes, he’s willing to atone, letting you have your fun for quite a while. But he will tell you to stop once he’s hit his limit. Doesn’t hate tickling and being tickled by any means, but it’s exhausting when you’re on the receiving end. Definitely doesn’t mind some affection afterwards, even if it’s just in the form of teasing him regarding how cute he is. When you listen to him and his residual giggles, you can watch his gaze drift between you and Farah with adoration and admiration in his eyes. He’s aware of his strength, he knows that it’s not easy at all to take him down, meaning it takes a lot of trust for him to allow himself to be in a position like that. But it’s fun and games, he’s not gonna stop either, so it’s only fair.

Laswell/Nikolai: You probably got fed up with Nikolai barely, if at all, reacting to you trying to get back at him. He is ticklish, that much I can tell you, he just doesn’t show it. Only when you’re playfully complaining to him about it with Laswell overhearing does the situation brighten for you. As someone who works for the CIA, Laswell has dirt on just about any person, including Nikolai. Besides, they’ve been friends for a long time too, which made her one of the most qualified people to tell you that Nikolai can be weak to tickles, if done correctly. Beating around the bush, Nikolai neither confirms nor denies this, but promises you that he’ll hold still and let you try, under the premise he gets to do the same later. He’s confident you won’t be able to get him to laugh. Ever the keeper of his word, you try. Laswell watches as you fail time and time again to even get him to flinch. With a sigh, she shows you the ropes, telling you what to do in order to accomplish your goal. Advice is given, instructions are told as though you’re taking apart a weapon and cleaning it for the first time. In this case, you’re merely told to lightly scratch under his chin. Despite expecting it, Nikolai shudders regardless. It’s a pleasant sensation, but it takes everything in him to not flinch. Next up is the side of his neck, and lastly, his cheeks. A smile has made its way onto his lips, even during the first spot, but you couldn’t tell whether it was out of pity or mockery. Gently grazing his skin, you weren’t even sure if you were touching it in the first place, seemed to work. A few giggles spilt here and there, but he never bothered to grab your hand or push you away. According to Laswell, as well as Nikolai, that was likely everything you were gonna get out of him using your hands only. If you desired a stronger outcome you’d need something along the lines of a feather or a make-up brush. As it turns out, being rough doesn’t work on him at all, he’s trained himself out of that, but since he never really got the chance to get used to gentle tickles he couldn’t build up a resistance to them. Regardless, it was your turn to get wrecked and Nikolai wasn’t going to go easy on you for what you did.

König/Horangi: From time to time you’d tease König. Nothing particularly mean, Horangi’s remarks were much more impactful than yours. Besides, König is a colonel, he had been through worse and can take some playful banter, often taunting both of you in return. It wasn’t until you had claimed that, due to his height, he must have some extra ribs that you genuinely got both König’s and Horangi’s attention. With everyone involved knowing that König was, indeed, ticklish, this made for a wonderful suggestion. Considering you made the claim, you got the honor of actually getting to count them as Horangi held König’s arms behind his back. Sitting down on his lap to make it just that extra bit harder to move, you got to work. König’s curses weren’t particularly creative, but they did hold a certain venom to them, they could corrode anyone’s skin. But the poison mellowed as soon as you made contact with his ribs, drilling in here and there and vibrating your fingers to get a feel for his ribcage. At first König was rigid, not moving an inch, but then he started kicking, trying to get you off of him. In all fairness, it almost worked. The lower you moved the stronger his reactions were. Once you were done you counted 17, to which Horangi naturally replied that that couldn’t be right, there had to be at least 28. Switching places with him, it was your turn to take König’s arms and hold them back. Horangi was a much more ruthless tickler than you, making sure to “get a feel of how much space his ribs take up” before “counting them thoroughly”. Yes, mistakes were made and he “lost count” a few times. Despite everything, he was diligent enough to try again. The conclusion was that König had no extra ribs that day, having only 24 it seemed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still grow some more over time. This phenomenon had to be studied and he’d need a check-up every once in a while that only you and Horangi could be trusted with. Cussing both of you out, König recovered very quickly, looming over you with the ferocity of an untamed beast. Despite having considered punting both of you into the ground for humiliating him like that, he doesn’t go through with it. Another one who’s very confident in his abilities, he chases that instant gratification this time and goes for both of you to get his revenge. Maybe not at once, maybe he can get you to betray the other in the meantime, but he’ll have both of you breathless and exhausted by the end of the day.

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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fic rec friday 10

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

something borrowed by @rosyredlipstick

In the Solace Wedding Planning agenda, on the fifth page into their summer schedule, there are carefully scrawled out notes reading this: Bride and Groom - Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang Best Man & Maid of Honor - Percy Jackson & Piper McLean Wedding Court - Annabeth Chase & Jason Grace Mellie & Gleeson Hedge Reyna Ramírez-Arellano & Leo Valdez Ring-bearer - Chuck Hedge Flower-boy - Nico di Angelo - Will plans wedding and now, apparently, Nico stars in one. Except...sometimes there's a bit more confusion on that last part. AKA the AU where Will plans weddings and thinks Hazel and Frank are going to have to cutest, gap-toothed ten year throwing flowers down the aisle, all while wondering why this 'Neeks' guy is always hanging around, and what business he has looking that good.

yes i am back on my rosyredlipstick (dude she's GOOD okay). however this one is my favourite i think. this is the kinda story you could use to explain to people what dramatic irony is bc LORD i wanted to SHAKE THEM 😭😭 will falling like deeply in love with nico and being intensely stressed about everything the whole time is so real and on brand. i love him and i love the fond exasperation that just bleeds from this fic its GREAT

2. Rental Love by @rosyredlipstick

*Read Terms & Conditions - Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email [email protected] if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one.

THE LEVEL OF STUPID THAT THEY ARE...😭😭 kills me fr. like this whole fic is just a manifestation of truly one of the best tropes of all time…..like what if we took a hallmark movie and made it gay as all hell. iconique indeed

3. A Match in the Making by @coconutcranberries-blog

“You’re a morning person,” Nico muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He ran a hand through his black hair, which stuck up in disarray, the same way it did every morning. He was a mess, and Will Solace looked annoyingly put together, and Nico didn’t even care, really, he didn’t.

friendship is the core of romance!! it is!! every time!!! and it's such a core in this fic....which is fucking??? ten years old??? im just realising?? jesus christ??? anyways. "Nico had the sudden, warm feeling that Will Solace had never bought his act." i YELLED

4. Perception by scorchedtrees

In which everyone thinks Nico and Will are together.

i love this trope i love it SO BAD. both ways. when your love is so obvious that no one misses it.....love to see it truly. and will can have one second of beingn smooth and not a dweeby loser. as a treat

5. the world is brighter than the sun now that you're here by @finalizer

It was hard, Nico eventually concluded, to maintain one’s air of spooky otherworldly detachment with a blinding ray of sunshine trailing one step behind him every minute of every day.

grouchy nico my beloved truly. honestly hes such a bitch i love him like "Seriously, give the guy a perm and a few cats and he’d be that weird aunt that everybody avoided around the holiday season." why does he ALWAYS have something vile to say 😭😭 hes a mood fr

thank you for joining me this saturday friday!! happy reading!!

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mqverick · 5 months

Text

your woman || ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

mature themes, 18+

very detailed smut, dni if you’re a minor

“just use me up and then you walk away

boy, you can’t play me that way”

─── ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ───

Every time Charlie Babbitt opened his mouth, it seemed like a never-ending awards ceremony was on, a lazy smirk living permanently on the corners of his lips. It was as if the idea of someone questioning him was both amusing and absurd. Charlie’s ego was so immense, it practically had its own gravitational pull. It was the sun in his universe, with everything and everyone else relegated to mere planetary status.

If the work didn’t pay well, you wouldn’t had bared a single second next to him, leaving to finally rest at your home with his excessively loud yelling still ringing in your ears, the annoyed sighs, the rude commands. To sum things up, Charlie Babbitt was the kind of man to drive you insane even if you were walking on sunshine.

It surprised you when he first announced that he’d preferred little old you over Lee to come along with him on a business trip in Palm Springs.

The response that rolled on the tip of your tongue at first was a big fat no. Why on earth would you want to spend an entire weekend with that nerve wrecking boss of yours when you could just enjoy the rewarding silence and comfort of your own home? But then again, when Charlie had his mind set on something, he stuck with it until the end.

In other words, whether you liked it or not, you were going on a little ‘getaway’ with him. Turned out, though, that his plans got disrupted by the sudden death of his father, forcing him to take a turn and drag you along to Cincinnati, where the funeral was taking place. You found out later on in the car that Charlie wasn’t the biggest fan of his father due to the lack of emotion he showed throughout the ride. You didn’t care to ask, simply letting out an annoyed groan every now and then to piss him off even further.

For four hours, you were participating in a scoff contest with him, winner would be the one with the longest, most pained sigh. Things got even worse — if possible — after Charlie spoke to the family lawyer about his inheritance, which was as disappointing as getting to work for him all day long. Couple of rose bushes and a stupid car.

“For fuck’s sake, Charlie, can you quit complaining about everything?” you yelled at him after deciding that you’d had about enough.

“Quit complaining?” he repeated, looking at you as if you were a lunatic. “Tell you one story. Just one. You know that convertible out front? My father loved that car more than he loved his family. It’d always been off limits to me. Tenth grade, I’m sixteen and for once I bring home a report card and it’s almost all straight A’s.”

You glanced at him, impressed with the statement, whistling out a low ‘ooh’. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Babbitt,” you commented and he had to break the eye contact for a minute, flushed with embarrassment and a light blush.

“Don’t look so damn surprised, Jesus. So, I go to my dad. Can I take the guys out in the Buick? A victory drive, you know. Says no, but I sneak it out anyway, take the keys. We’re on the Lakeshore Drive; four kids — and we get pulled over. He’d called in a report of a stolen car, not his son took the car out without permission. Just… stolen.”

“I’m getting bored of your sob story.”

“Shut up, will you?” he gritted through his teeth, sighing when you faked a yawn to demonstrate how deeply nonchalant you felt about his story.

“Get to an end, it’s been years.”

“Cook County Jail. Other guys’ dads bail ‘em out in an hour. He left me there two days. Drunks were throwing up everywhere, psychos eyeing me up… That was the only time in my life I was gut scared. Shit-your-pants fucking terrified. Left home, never came back and here I am.”

By the end of his memory, Charlie was trying to choke back a couple of tears that burned through his blurry eyes. His back was turned to you, he hated getting weak, felt as though the Trojan walls he’d built to keep up his mental strength had been bombed, collapsing into crumbles.

You said nothing — couldn’t bring yourself to. You weren’t used to being around that Charlie, had no idea how to react. Under normal conditions and had you not despised his guts, you would’ve hugged him so tightly that the air would get knocked out of his lungs, but it felt wrong, inappropriate for the moment. You settled for a tight-lipped smile instead, standing up and grabbing the second pillow from the bed, tucking it under your arm along with a blanket.

“Looks like you need the bed more than I do.”

Not even a goodnight. He didn’t bother to say another word to you either, so you called it a night, hugging the uncomfortable pillow closer to your head as you shivered under the blanket, wishing that you could’ve gotten the bed instead of the couch. Charlie deserved it that night, though. It was probably the least you could do for him, seeing as your way with words wasn’t exactly a delight. Sleep wasn’t on your side either.

Spent a couple of moments tossing around in agony, until you eventually decided to get up, blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders as you rummaged through the library in the living room, encountering a photo album. You looked around in the room, making sure that Charlie was still in his room and placed the heavy album on your lap, carefully turning the pages.

Charlie at four years old. Then a bit older, standing alone in the picture, scrawny chest, baggy trunks. You had to stifle a chuckle, the pictures of younger him amusing you.

───

You both woke up early the next day, wind blowing through your hair as Charlie drove to the beneficiary down at the Lynwood Home. Just some stuff I have to wrap up for my dad’s estate, was the only explanation he gave you as he turned down the narrow road, clearing the crest of a hill now, a huge white building coming into view. A country estate, you reckoned.

Charlie continued toward it, approaching a man painting at an ease near the side of the road, shielding whatever he was working from the view by having his back turned to you.

“Excuse me, that place up there is the Lynwood Home, isn’t it?” But the man didn’t acknowledge Charlie in any way and you had to hold back a chortle. Nevertheless, he continued his way into the building, asking you to wait for him outside (wouldn’t take long, he said) as he sorted out the beneficiary issue that seemed to taunt him.

Not being in a mood for arguing, you did as you were told, patiently sitting in your seat as you shuffled through the radio station, trying to find a catchy song to listen to. You gasped in surprise when the sudden presence of a man sat next to you at startled you out of your boredom.

“Hello, can I help you?”

No response.

His hands were firmly grasped around the steering wheel as he started intently at it. Didn’t move at first, just stayed still for a couple of seconds before he began murmuring something that you couldn’t really make out. You tried to get him out of the car, but he flinched as if your touch was scorching against him in every intention of pushing him away. At some point, you gave up and hoped the man would leave when Charlie would come back, otherwise he was bound to hearing it from him very loudly.

Which indeed happened when he finally returned, rudely asking the poor guy to get going. Raymond, as you found later he was called, had other plans though. Apparently — and it came as much as a shock to you as it came to Charlie — he was his brother. Son of Sanford Babbitt.

Raymond Babbitt, who was kidnapped in some sort of way by Charlie, claiming that Dr. Bruner had suggested that he took his brother on a little trip. You knew that was just his usual bullshit talk, though, but tried to keep it down your throat, focusing more on helping Ray relax. He was mouthing stuff that made no sense, spelling out Vern and memorizing TV dialogues — he looked and sounded stressed and it made you want to hit Charlie’s breaks so abruptly that he’d crash his stupidly air floated head into the front shield of the car without the slightest hint of a warning.

Fucking California.

You found yourself in a crappy motel he’d rented in California for the night. Raymond was upset, so out of his comfort zone and familiar routine and places, sitting alone in his room as Charlie wandered back and forth all over the rooms while making calls back to Lee, informing him that he needed to put a pause in the business for a bit.

How insane was he exactly again?

“You’re a horrible fucking person, you know that?” you muttered lowly into his ear as you mustered a warm smile to his brother, opting to make whatever the hell of an experience that was at least enjoyable for him.

“You have no place in this.”

“No? Last time I checked you’ve been dragging me back and forth your stupid trips like I’m some sort of forgotten luggage.”

“That’s it — lights out, Ray Ray,” Charlie exclaimed in a forced enthusiastic voice as he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you outside, closing the door to Raymond’s room.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Get a fucking taxi and leave! I’m not going to give you explanation on what I do in my personal life,” he whispered-yelled at you, stalking across to his own room as you followed him, pissed.

“He’s your brother! You’ve kidnapped the poor guy, have been nothing but a dick to him and all that for what? Go apologize to him, tell him that first thing tomorrow morning you’re taking him back to the beneficiary,” you ordered him in the same tone he used at you.

Charlie shielded his eyes, running his palms down across his cheeks as he let out a long, dramatic sigh, burning holes through your head with his malicious glaring. “The fuck that’s happening! He’s a freaking pain in the ass, obviously I’m not going to tuck him in and kiss his forehead goodnight — I’m not his mother.”

“You’re his kid brother, Charlie. For crying out loud, he needs you, the least you can do for him is show some respect. It’s not his fault he doesn’t understand the world the same way you and I do,” your voice softened just a tad, trying to keep the noise down for Raymond not to hear. “He’s your big brother, could be someone to look up to—”

Charlie glared down at the floor, fighting of his temper. He shook his head — could be even be hearing to your nonsense? “What’s going on in my life is none of your fucking business and you get no chance to go around giving advice.”

“Fine, be the shitty piece of burning crap you are then, I couldn’t care less. But you owe me explanation on why you brought him here. What are we even doing in California?”

Charlie collapsed on the foot of his bed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to keep him. I’m pissed off at him…”

“What is that even supposed to mean? Pissed off at Raymond? What has he done to you?”

“No, at my dad. I need to get what’s mine, okay? He left Ray a shit ton of money and… You heard what Lenz said, okay? He doesn’t even understand the concept of money — my dad preferred to leave him three million dollars, up until every last dime, he fucking despised me.”

You blinked slowly, trying to absorb all of this.

“You’re telling me you’re treating Ray like he’s some sort of your property for money? Where the fuck do you get off, Charlie — you’re disgusting!”

You stalked past him in the bedroom, storming off as you slammed your hands on each side of your head in disbelief. You heard him get up from the bed, catching up with you as he snatched your arm and turned your body towards his own.

“You don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes right now, okay? Look, I need you… I need you here, this is all very confusing for me and—”

“For you?! What about Ray? Is anyone’s life even worth anything to you? No, wait, everything has to be about you only! What do you even need me for, huh? Babysitting, pussy, more money? I’m fucking leaving, I don’t want to be involved in your little freakshow,” you were screaming now, unable to hold yourself back as your finger stabbed toward the wall to punctuate your points.

“What’s my crime here?” Charlie continued, as if he was clueless to the entire situation. You wished you could just start punching sense into his head.

“Your crime is that you use people. You’re using Ray, you’re using me, you use everyone you son of a bitch. I hope your money goes into your fucking grave when you—” out of the blue, his mouth was covering yours with force, hands clutching into your shoulders as he tried to keep you steady against him, eyes squeezed shut.

You recoiled, unable to gauge any reaction out of your body, but let him continue bringing more heat into the moment, eventually getting you to start moving your lips against his, matching the urgency he initiated. When Charlie pulled away, your brain was still foggy, struggling to catch your breath, which seemed to be an issue for him too.

“You wouldn’t shut up,” he explained in a raspy voice. It’d just hit him what he’d done; kissing you, kissing the person that he swore he hated. It was true, though, he’d only done it to get you to stop talking, your angry statements about his screwed up plans causing him to lose control.

Your eyebrow raised upwards in slight confusion and effort of comprehending that Charlie’s lips had been on yours just a moment ago and you’d never felt so good, so complete before in your life. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against the wall behind him, hearing him let out a chocked gasp, which for some reason sent a tingling sensation through your lower body. The second kiss was firmer, more passionate, because this time, you both knew exactly what was happening, it was consensual and Charlie’s crotch was pressing so beautifully against your thighs that you felt as if you were high. His hands were going through your hair, messing it up completely as he explored the rest of your face too, fingers gently cupping your cheeks for a brief second, before they dipped into the curves of your waist.

You arched against his touch, biting down on your lip as his mouth now moved below, leaving a trail of rushed wet kisses through your jawline. You felt him smirk against your neck as he softly dragged his teeth against your soft spot, licking and sucking, applying just the right amount of pressure to hear your muffled noises of pleasure.

“Ray—Raymond is in the next room,” you breathed, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your lips parted in a silent moan when you felt his index finger graze your underboob through the material of your thin blouse.

“He doesn’t understand this, he’ll probably think we’re fighting,” Charlie replied to you as he surfaced from the side of your collarbone to pepper small, quick pecks on your lips.

“We are fighting.”

“Good, shut up and fight me more then.”

You melted against him as he guided you backwards into the bedroom, dipping your chin over the slope of his shoulder as he held your weight, stumbling as your back accidentally hit against the corner of the door, making you wince. You didn’t care, though, pushing the door shut as Charlie pressed you against it with a loud thud. You lazily wrapped your legs around his lower waist, but his grip on your ass was strong enough to support you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, absentmindedly tugging at it and eliciting a somewhat loud moan from him that made your entire system shudder, embarrassed at how wet you were growing just by making out. “Fuck, Charlie — bed now.”

He obliged, laying you on the bed as he pulled his already half unbuttoned shirt off, fighting back a cocky smile when he noticed you impatiently unclasp your bra under your blouse. He towered over you, falling gently on top your shoulder as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses on your flesh. He had full consciousness of the effect he was having on you, finding it incredibly hot.

“God, you’re so…” he trailed off, hoping you hadn’t heard him. Truth was, Charlie had always been captivated by your beauty, convinced himself that there wasn’t another person in the planet that was half as gorgeous as you were.

He placed a tender kiss on your lips and helped you take your blouse off, giving you a moment to breathe before getting lost into the V-line between your breasts. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped from your mouth when the tip of his tongue made contact with your cold skin, his hums and groans vibrating through it.

The man who you’d been at odds with was tracing his digits dangerously close to the hem of your underwear and it all felt like the glimpse of embarrassment from having wet fever dream that pleased you more than any other human touch.

“I still think you’re the worst person I’ve met, by the way,” you muttered through tiny sighs, eyes closed as your fingers twisted around the bed sheets, hips suddenly jerking as you finally felt his hand hover over your scorching core through your trousers. “Stop fucking teasing me.”

“I think it’s rich that you’re giving me orders when I can just completely stop touching you and go to sleep while you’re whining like a mess,” Charlie replied, distancing himself from you in demonstration, walking right across the other side of the room to pick up his discarded shirt.

You were going to skin the bastard alive.

“Fuck you, Charlie, you’re a fucking brute, you know that?” you yelled in frustration, getting up from the bed and sprinting over to him, turning him around and crashing your lips against his, nails now digging painfully into the curves of his ripped back. Stealing each other’s air, you fell back into the bed again, pulling his trousers down and almost cumming when you caught a glimpse of his cock twitching against the fabric of his gray boxers, sort of visible due to the front patch that had gotten all wet and sticky from his precum.

You pulled at his hair, breaking the kiss to smile a little when you noticed that he was equally lost in the moment, biting on his bottom lip lustfully, looking at you through half-lidded eyes and beautiful blown pupils. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, while fumbling to take off more clothing pieces, needing to feel every inch of his skin pressed up against yours, giving you goosebumps. You’d never felt that way.

“Fuck, that hurts,” he winced as your nails dug so deep into his back’s muscles that they ended up leaving wound marks, fresh and sort of pinkish.

“Touch me or it’ll get worse,” you threatened, knowing that as he’d said earlier, you weren’t really in a place to be colourful with him. His tongue scraped the roof of your mouth as he ran a finger down your center, testing the waters over your underwear and smirking when he felt the heat of your soaked panties radiate against his digit. You were so ready for him and he hadn’t even began doing anything to you — his erection growing painful at the observation.

“You’re so hot for me, I haven’t even touched you yet, gosh,” he whispered through a strangled moan, mind hazy as he tossed your panties aside and finally slipped a finger inside of you. Your hips jerked in surprise, rocking against his hand, craving the friction, the urge to fill you up more.

You moaned embarrassingly loud when the tip moved in a hither motion, almost losing your shit. He didn’t take too long to add another finger, which only made it better for you as you took a quick glance at him through your lashes, butterflies gushing inside your stomach at the sight of him, all worked up, lips parted as small groans came out of them, eyes closed as he fought off the need to wrap a hand around his dick as well, get off to touching you.

“Charlie,” you cried out his name, hips rolling forward as his touch made contact with your bundle of nerves. His long fingers were hitting all the right spots inside of you and the combination of the still very burning anger for him and the little wet noises along with his grunts had sent you over the edge a lot faster than you’d expected.

The moment Charlie felt your walls clench around his fingers, he pulled them off, wiping them off on the fabric of his boxers as he muffled your frustrated whimper with a kiss, permitting his hand to touch himself over his boxers as you ground against his thigh, pulling him down on top of you. Off, you mouthed, looking at his underwear. The bastard was driving you insane, so you yanked them off when you noticed he had no intention to giving in to your requests, sliding them down his ankles. Your jaw almost dropped at the gates of hell when you saw him, needing a moment to take it all in. He was so pretty, so achingly ready to go inside you, the image alone was enough to make you cum, your previous upcoming orgasm still hanging around the air.

“What did I tell you earlier? We’re doing this my way or we’re not doing anything at all.”

“Fuck, please, just fuck me, Charlie, I can’t wait any longer,” you found yourself pleading, forgetting that just ten minutes ago you’d been on the verge of cracking his skull open.

His eyes scanned your naked body for a second and you scoffed, tilting your head in confusion.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he admitted lowly, face growing hot as if he wasn’t just about to raw your bones. He crawled closer to you, giving you a kiss before parting your thighs, muscles clenching as his tip teasingly grazed your entrance. He wanted to make you feel so good, have you remembering that moment all the nights you’d be alone at your house, be the man you’d compare all the other men to in bed.

Except Charlie didn’t want you to have any other men after that night. Hoped he’d be good enough to make you want more of him, perhaps stay the nights over, ask to sleep next to him after, if he was lucky and satisfying enough.

“Sure you want to do this?” he asked you before he could change everything between the two of you, already knowing what your reply would be.

“Yes, god, yes, be fucking done with it already,” you dragged out, dramatically impatient. Your head was thrown back the moment he slid fully into you, staying still for a bit in order for you to adjust. Both of you inhaled a sharp breath, eyes shutting closed as he lost his balance a little, the dizzying feel of finally getting to be embraced by the warmth of your walls causing his heart to beat faster than a sledgehammer against his chest.

“You feel so good,” he hoarsed, forehead connecting with yours as he absentmindedly leaned down to kiss your nose. When he moved, slowly thrusting forward, you swore you wouldn’t be able to last enough. His breath was hot against the cell of your ear, allowing you to hear every groan, every noise he made and it turned you on so much that it practically ached.

“Faster,” you ordered, rolling your hips as he began having a steady pace, sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the room as Charlie fucked you rougher and rougher, skin slapping. The bed was squeaking now, your one hand grasping for dear life onto the sheets as the other wrapped tightly around his waist, fingers dipped into the curve of his lower abdomen. You focused on his face again, your heartbeat racing as you noticed his front teeth poking out of his parted lips, finding it both adorable and incredibly sexy.

He’d stopped moaning, not wanting you to know how desperately he needed you, his hands firmly placed on your hips as he tortured himself silently. “You like that? Like how we’re fighting?”

“Shut up,” you cried out. The angle he was hitting inside of you was killing you, you wanted him deeper, impossibly much, needed him to split you in half. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Electricity jolted through your veins as he picked up pace, practically slamming into you now, the moans he’d tried to hold back in his throat coming out in a struggle. “‘M not going to last long,” he warned you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, hands cupping your cheeks with force.

“Cum inside of me.”

You really had no idea what you were doing to him, had you? Who — Charlie Babbitt — feeling his cock twist against your walls just by hearing you say you wanted him to cum in you. You had him in a chokehold, it was kind of ridiculous.

“Fuck, I—” he never got to finish what he was going to say in the first place, because you were trembling under his touch, overwhelmed by the speed and the fact that your worst fucking enemy was fucking you like you’d never been fucked before and it was all enough to send you over the edge for the second time that night, except now Charlie didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. You propped your chin upwards and caught his mouth in yours as you came, feeling him follow shortly after you, cum shooting inside of you in warm spurts as he fucked you through your orgasms, groaning loudly, body jerking.

Once both of you had reached your highs, he collapsed on top of your body, head buried into your shoulder as the two of you tried to catch your breaths, legs tensing. It eventually dawned on you that you just had sex with Charlie Babbitt.

“That was the hottest fucking sex I’ve ever had,” you confessed as he rolled off of you, laying next to your side as he chest rose in and out.

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable of saying much.

“I hate you.”

“You’ve got a really nice way of showing it.”

You kneed his thigh and he winced, still very fragile from the intensity of his orgasm. His hair was all sticky and sweaty, clung into his forehead, face flushed and red. You could orgasm all over again just by looking at him. “I believe we’ve traumatised your brother for life.”

“Worth it.”

“You’re taking him back tomorrow.”

“No, I’ve already told you—” you cut him off by kissing him, the tip of your tongue lingering against his bottom lip as you pulled him deeper into your mouth, hand tangling into his hair.

“You’re not the only one who gets to shut up others by kissing them. And if you ever want this to happen again, you’re going to do things my way from now on.”

And Charlie was just fine with that.

FIN.

tags: again, i wrote this for @honeymvnt so i hope you’ll enjoy reading this ml !! 🎀🫵🏼

#rain man #charlie babbitt #charlie babbitt x reader #rain man x reader #tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #smut #enemies to lovers #pete mitchell #tom cruise imagine #this is mostly for me #maverick fanfic #maverick fluff #pete maverick mitchell #so much smut #oneshot #tom cruise oneshot #charlie babbitt oneshot

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shoot-the-oneshot · 2 years

Text

PAPER RINGS

Based on this idea with the ring from Purple Hearts.

The one where rooster can’t find the perfect ring

Hangman version Young Maverick version

“Woah!” Maverick yelled being pulled into an empty classroom, “Rooster?” He asked seeing the pilot start to pace once the door shut. “I need your help Mav.” Since Bradley could tie his shoes he hasn’t asked maverick for help so this spiked his stress levels. “It's Y/N.” Rooster mumbled out. “What happened to Y/N?” If Bradley was the son he never had you were the daughter he was incredibly protective over you.

“Something happened to Y/N!” Rooster froze worry overcoming his entire body as he quickly looked out the window where he knew your jet would be soaring through the air. “That’s what you said!” Maverick yelled, making Rooster throw his arms in the air. “No, I didn’t, you did.” The men quieted down the stress of something happening you calming. “What did you need help with?”

“I want to marry her.”

“Kid that’s great but why’d you have to stress me out first come here,” Maverick said pulling the other man into him for a hug wishing that Goose was here to see his boy all grown up. Rooster rolled his eyes at the last comment.

“Will you help me pick out a ring?” Maverick had never been so happy to be invited to a jewelry store before but for the two kids coming together he couldn’t wait. Until they got there, then he slightly regretted it he should’ve known really. Goose was the same way when he went shopping for Carols.

“Do you like any of these?” Maverick asked glancing down at the glass cases of engagement rings. Rooster looked silently. He knew for sure he wanted to marry you, but he had no idea what type of ring you wanted. Thinking back on it he really should’ve asked Phoenix.

“No, they’re just not right.” He sighed, shaking his head, he knew if his mom and dad were there they’d know exactly what to do. maverick who had never been married was just as lost as Bradley, but he tried his best, “just, Just look at the rings, and when you see one that makes you feel the way you do when you look at Y/N that’s the one.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” With his newfound outlook, he spent probably another two hours looking from ring to ring, and nothing felt right. “Can I see the last one again?” He sheepishly asked, he know that the poor saleswoman hated him even Mav, who was resting his head on his hands. His mom loved the ring his dad gave her wore it long after he died, and Rooster wanted you to love yours just as much. Setting the rings down he groaned rubbing his hands down his face.

“Kid you could give her a paper ring and shed say yes.” Rooster paused at his words an idea popping into his head. “ Thank you!” He yelled, pushing the rings back and pulling Maverick behind him out the door. “Am I missing something?” Mav wondered aloud watching Rooster run to the back of his bronco and pull out a toolbox.

“I don’t need to buy her something I need to give her something.” He mumbled paying half attention to what Maverick was saying. “You’re going to give her your dog tags?” He asked, Watching the young pilot put them out of his shirt and off his neck. Separating the smaller chain from the longer one. “Part of them.” Cutting the chain to the length he measured next to a ring he took from your nightstand. Smacking Maverick's hand away when he went to reach for it. “Don’t touch.” Of course, Maverick ignored him and picked it up anyways when Rooster was done with it.

“You stole her ring?” Rooster huffed cutting him a glance from what he was doing. “I borrowed it.” Mav nodded along. “Stole it.” He whispered, making the pilot huff

“It’s temporarily misappropriated!” Rooster barked going back to the task at hand, connecting the chain back together he slid the small loop onto his finger showing Maverick.

“What do you think?” Bradley felt more nervous now than he did in the jewelry store. Watching for any look that may come over his unofficial uncles face. A proud smile slid on his face looking from the makeshift ring and the other pilot shifting on his feet. “Y/n will love it.” Passing the ring back Rooster immediately started fiteling with it.

“Are you sure? I know it's basic but we can pick out the other ring together so she really likes it you know, and I always wished I had my dads tags, thanks for that by the way.” Maverick cringed,

“so maybe even when I��m away she still has a little piece of me to carry around.” He rambles making Mav grab him by both arms to get him to take a breath. “Kid it's perfect.”

“Are you sure, because she definitely deserves perfect.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Are you okay babe?” You asked seeing your boyfriend shift in his seat for the thousandth time nice he picked you up. Not to mention his hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. His head snapped over to you, quickly going back and forth between you and the road. “What? Yeah, I’m fine just looking forward to tonight.” Patting your knee than going straight back to the wheel. Normally his hands never left you so his behavior was confusing you a bit.

What you didn't notice was rooster had changed his shirt five times before driving to get you, he even had his second choice in the back in case he changed his mind. Maverick had brought Penny over during his spiral for a pep talk thinking shed help the young pilot better than he could. It slightly helped.

“We’re going to follow them right?” Penny whispered watching rooster pull off. “Of course we are I’m not missing this.”

Pulling up to the beach Rooster pulled you back when you went to step out of the car, pressing a kiss to your empty ring finger he asked you to wait while he set up.

Watching him running with arms full of baskets and bags made you giggle when he tripped a bit, sand and running not really mixing well.

Spreading out the blanket and fighting against the ocean breeze he managed to get all the candles lit, surrounding it with the flowers he hid there earlier. He had all your favorite foods there too. So you could celebrate if you said yes, or could drown his sorrows if you said no. Taking a few steps back and looking at his set up he nodded “talk to me dad.” He whispered, taking a breath before going back to get you.

“My lady.” He spoke in a playful British accent helping you out of the car. Making you let out that laugh he fell in love with hearing. “What do you have planned this evening Sir Bradshaw?” You asked playing along as you walked hand and hand down the path. His set up still out of view. “Picnic on the beach and watching the sunset sound good to you?”

“Perfect.” You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his jaw. God, he really hopes you think so. Before you both got any closer he pulled you to a stop. “You mind?” Holding up a bandana he didn't need to explain what he wanted. ‘Must be some picnic huh.”

With the bandana secured he carefully led you farther on the beach stopping you once you stood in the middle of the blanket. Not releasing your hand as he knelt on one knee in front of you. “You can take it off now.” You gasped seeing him on one knee. Looking up at you with the most love you’ve ever seen come from a person.

“Y/n, I said I fell in love with you at first sigh the night we met, but know all this time I spent with you I realized that’s not true.” He paused to collect himself seeing the tears start shimmering in your eyes, “every second I see you I fall more in love its love at every sight, every thought, every moment I spend with you makes me fall deeper and deeper in love with you and I want to love you for the rest of my life, will you give me that chance and marry me?”

pulling the chain ring out of his pocket he held it between you, you quickly nodded your head the second he asked, “Yes, yes yes!” Excitement flooded his entire body at your words and he stood to pull you into him and spun you around. “She said yes!” He shouted to no one in particular. Caressing his face you pressed your lips together a little awkwardly since neither of you could wipe the smiles off your faces.

Setting you back on your feet, he shakily slid the ring on your finger. “We will get you a diamond obviously but I didn’t want to pick it out without you.” You breathlessly laughed shaking your head fondly at your new fiancé. “It’s perfect I love it!”

Your moment of staring into each other's eyes broke as you both heard clapping.

“Oh god.” Rooster groaned hiding his face in your neck as you laughed, watching Maverick's eyes widened realizing they’ve been caught giving a shy wave as Penny beamed. You felt Rooster chuckle against you before he straightened up holding your left hand in his raising it. “We’re getting married!”

Hi!! Hope you guys liked it let me know in the comments and check out my TopGun masterlist for more. And let me know who’s version you want next in the comments Hangman or Young Mav

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dakotalun · 10 months

Text

The Cabin | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: The older kids decide to take the weekend off and head down to Steve's parent's cabin.

warnings: none for this chapter, just some mutual pining

word count: 2k

a/n: Been thinking of this idea for years now and finally decided to put it down on paper, or screen ig.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie’s POV

Steve has been planning this trip for weeks. I mean, I like the guy and all but he can go a little overboard with things. He has been trying to get us all to come down to his family’s lake house for what feels like forever. Just the older kids, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Y/N and I. He says it’ll be a weekend of games, drinking and fun. Which translated to normal language means, raiding his parents liquor cabinet, smoking some blunts and playing kiddie games like truth or dare, and never have I ever. Not that I mind, I’m just happy to be invited, even if I do have to do a shit ton of manual labor beforehand.

“Come on Eddie, it’s only gonna take a few hours,” Steve pleads with me over the phone.

“Dude exactly, a few hours. Do you know what I could be doing in those ‘few hours’?” I’m walking around the trailer trying to not explode my head off as Steve whines at me.

“I don’t know, you’d probably get high and sleep, or some shit. Just come on! I really need your van.”

“Nope, not happening,” I plop down on the couch and open my tin lunchobox, ready to roll a joint, “I mean why do you need my van anyways, isn’t your car fine?”

Steve sighs over the phone, “Yes but it’s too small. I need help moving some stuff from my family’s storage locker to the lake house. You know that place you’ll be staying in for the next week!”

I finally get done rolling my joint and scour my tin for a lighter, if I’m gonna help Harrington with this I’ll be needing it, “Ugh fine, just let me get some shit first. I’ll be at yours in 20.”

“Fucking- thank you!” Before I can even say a snarky remark he hangs up.

I groan and throw my head back. I am so gonna regret this later.

---

A few days later I’m with Steve at his house, getting the stuff for the trip finalized. We planned that since my van is bigger than Steve’s tiny ass BMW, I’d be taking all the bags and shit with one passenger and he’d take the other 3 and all the food.

“So I’ll take Nancy, Robin and Y/n. You take Jonathan,” Steve says throwing a bag of chips into a bag.

“Oh hell no. Why do you get all the girls?” “Um maybe because then they’d have to deal with you for 2 hours,” I pick up a pack of marshmallows and throw them at him, “Hey! Fine, take Y/n I don’t care just stop throwing my shit.”

“Thank you,” I walk over to him and sling an arm over his shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard was it big boy?” He pushes me off and I stumble back as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it, you finish packing the food.” I straighten my back and put my hand to my forehead like a soldier, “Aye aye Captain!” and solute him as he leaves the kitchen.

I hear him open the front door and the voices of Nancy and Robin. The three of them come back into the kitchen laughing at something Robin had said.

“Sup ladies.”

“Hey Eddie,” They say in unison before turning their attention back to Steve. Before I met them I would’ve thought that they didn’t like me or that they only pretended to be my friend out of pity, now that I know them, I know that that’s not the case, they simply wanted to finish their conversation with Steve first.

“Hey hey!” The loud bang of the front door wakes me out of my daydream as Jonathan waltz’s into the room. Nancy gives him a quick kiss while he wraps his hand around her waist.

“So we all reday to go? I can’t wait to go skinny dipping,” He gives Nancy a smirk and wink before he bursts out loud at his own stupidity.

“Yeah pretty much. I just gotta get y’all’s shit into my van and pick Y/n up and we’ll be good.”

“Great. I’ll help load the rest of the stuff into the cars,” Steve heads out of the house with Robin and Nancy’s bags, “Hey Nance and Rob could you put those last few food bags in my trunk please?” Steve yells halfway out of the door.

They both agree in unison before grabbing the bags and heading outside. I sit there for a minute just thinking about what this weekend might intell, firstly I have to spend 4 hours in my van with the girl I have a crush on and secondly, I have a whole week of being with her, and my other friends but this is the longest we’ve hangout together and it’s not like I can just hop in my van and drive away when I do something stupid. I shake my head and join my friends outside, shutting the front door on my way out.

---

I pull up to Y/n’s house not even 5 minutes after calling her that I’m on the way. I see her parent’s cars in the driveway and pull up behind them. I jump out my van and rush to her door, maybe a little too eager to see her. I knock 3 times before the door is swinging open and I’m greeted with the big, bright smile that I like so much.

“Hey Eds! You got here quick, let me just grab my bags real quick, stay there,” She turns and her scent wafts in my face a little, she smells like vanilla and flowers. I wonder what she uses, vanilla shampoo and floral perfume? Maybe it’s in both, vanilla and flowers in body wash, shampoo, and perfume?! God what I would give to find out.

***

Y/N’s POV

I leave the door open as I run into the living room to grab my bags. I try my best to conceal the blush rushing to my cheeks upon seeing Eddie. I've never seen him in a muscle tee before, and if I’m being honest he looks hot as hell.

I quickly say goodbye to my parents and head back to the foyer, I don’t wanna waste another second here. I close the front door behind me and I feel a hand on my duffel bag as I turn back towards Eddie.

“I’m just gonna put these with the others in the back, go ahead and get comfy in the car,” He walks off towards the van, unlocking the doors for me to hop in.

“Actually,” I grab my small backpack from him, “I’m gonna keep this one with me.”

“Alright,” He walks off towards the back of his van.

Once I get in the car I set my bag down at my feet, opening it to get out my blanket and book. Eddie rounds the corner of the car and hops in along side me, buckling his seatbelt before starting the engine.

“Did you really bring a blanket?” He give you a small smile at the thought that I’d be prepared with a blanket for this ride.

“Yes I did. It was my grandpa’s so I bring it with me on trips. Don’t judge me.” I scowl at him but then flash him a little smile back.

Eddie’s heart warms at the thought of me being so close to my grandparents that I keep their things even after they are gone, “Hey no judgement here,” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, “if I had stuff from my grandparents I’m sure I’d keep it too.”

I laugh a little and Eddie pulls out of my driveway beginning the long journey to Steve’s lake house.

---

Roughly half an hour into the drive I start to get a little bored and hungry so I riffle around in my bag to find the cheez-its and book I packed. Upon finding them you pull your feet up on the chair and begin reading and eating your snacks.

You’ve always loved road trips, especially in the summer, the way you can just let the windows down the warm air blowing in your hair cooling you down while also keeping you at a nice temperature. This was no different, other than it was with Eddie, not your parents. It felt good to be with Eddie listening to his music as it plays over the speakers and hearing his rings knock against the steering wheel as he taps along to the beat of the song.

You feel relaxed, and happy. A feeling you haven’t really felt much recently. School had become really stressful with all the college applications and decisions to be made. And then getting ready for all the AP exams you’d be taking in late April, then the actual finals for your classes, it was all just so stressful. So when Steve and Robin approached you about spending spring break away from the gloomy town of Hawkins, who were you to deny them.

You’re reading your book and can’t focus well because you feel eyes on you. You look up from your book and over at Eddie, who is just glancing back from the road to you with a questioning look on his face.

“What?” You ask turning your body towards him a little.

“Nothing,” He looks away, focusing solely on the road again.

“You wouldn’t be staring if it was nothing. So what is it?”

“I just dont get how you can read in a moving car? Like doesn’t it make you nauseous?”

“Uh no I guess not. I didn’t realize that this was a weird thing to do? Can you not read in a car?” You’re genuinely asking, wondering if you’re weird or not for being able to do this.

“Hell no, I get sick just being in the passengers seat,” He laughs a little at the weird way his body works, “I don’t know I guess it something about focusing on the road helps calm me,” He looks over at you for a second, taking in your position. Feet tucked under you, blanket thrown over your legs hanging low, book resting face down on your knee and cheez-its between your arm and the door. He has to admit you look cute like this, “I’ve just never met anyone who can read in a car. It’s pretty cool.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You smile at each other before Eddie resumes his focus on the road and you on your book.

Before you know it you’re passed out in the seat while your book dangles off the endle of the seat. Eddie notices that he needs more gas so as soon as he can he gets off the highway and heads to a station to fill up. While getting gas he notices how peaceful you look sleeping in his van, sure you may be laying a weird position but you look calm. Eddie gets back in the van but before pulling out of the gas station he takes your book, places in your bookmark and sets in down near your bag. He knows how much you’d hate if anything happened to it while you slept.

3 and a half long hours later you guys finally make it to the lake house, but you can’t see Steve’s car there. Eddie hops out of the van to give him a call quickly.

“Hey,” Eddie says through the speaker.

“Hey- No we are not stopping again! Get it together we aren’t that fucking far! Hey dude sorry I know we’re late but someone keeps insisting on us stopping for bathroom and snack breaks,” Eddie can hear the disdain in his buddy’s voice knowing exactly who the someone is.

“It’s no problem dude, just remind me what the code to get in is again, we can start getting everything set up while you get here.”

“Thanks dude. The code is 3957, just make sure to turn on the water and power too.”

“Sure thing, see you soon.”

“Bye- Rob I told yo-” And then the line goes dead. Eddie laughs a little to himself before putting his phone back in his pocket and heading to your side of the car.

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

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snackugaki · 8 months

Text

... my ass actually got like 6+ images deep before realizing i hadn't posted shit-- oops

my tmnt iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

IDW spoilers below, teeechnically Mirage & Next Mutation spoilers too ig?

blah blah blabbering because that's one of the many things you can do on tumblr.com

bloopity bloopin, turtles all being traded on the black market as pets, medicine, or decor to be... "prepared". 'cept Jennika, keeping her IDW origin because it's badass and I like it. eco vigilantes freed them one fateful night, same night someone(s) stole some mutagen for a rival company to TGRI, boom collided in their getaway routes, away floated Venus just like in NM and some others who lalala may or may not be some mutanimals

playing mostly with coloring, Rise introducing markings is such a nice and refreshing change from the all sam green turtle, different bandana color turtles I grew up with. fanon taking that concept and applying it in conjunction with actual turtle colorings also scratches my visdev brain node just so

hm... still fiddling with their plastrons... Venus' and Jennika's are fine though

Leo

funky li'l ringed map turtle

can't see it but, he got them little ridgey-spikies on his shell

christ, I'm finding a way to attach Iris symbolism to him, either through markings or something else

Iris in hanakotoba is... basically all Leo; nobility, bravery, honor, courage, heavy samurai association

5'2"

Raph

McCord's or Amboina box turtle idk idk idk can't choose

stuck on coloring him with a scale mail feeling to match the box turtle photos I found

....I needa draw him beefier, he can stand to be beefier

5'6"

Donnie

literally just googled which turtles exhibit the highest INT, wood turle consistently listed plus some have funky geometrically patterned/shaped shells

tossing on how do the plastron coloring, really liking the dark spots on it

probably keep the lightened belly/inner limb coloring

...probably... lol idk

5'8"

Mikey

my perfect chonky boy, no notes except he (and his brothers) need plastron do-overs

and now i am stuck with the heart-on-his-sleeve marking

canon 2 my iteration it is done

he gets to be the slider this go round, if just 'cuz he's technically the first born (in terms of creating TMNT and its story and world)

let him have the fluttering, finger drumming on everything and everyone because he's bursting with "i love you" energy anyway

5'4"

Venus

"my pretty daughter" iykyk

sea turtle as per last couple iteration posts

cultivator instead of "shinobi"

"i aM ShiNObi"... guh, just, I dunno, the term "cultivator" wasn't really known back in '98 like that, but she had the medicine box, she worked to learn how to throw a fireball at Vam Mi, she was pleased at her progression when she defeated the counterspell from the staff of Bu Ki. that's cultivator shit right there.

she's still a pugilist more than a iron fan user

looks up to April like a big sister, speaks canto and hakka with her

cuz she's still a linguist scholar like in Next Mutation so duh she speak all the languages (to an extant, she has a lot of studying left to go after all)

the greenified hawksbill coloring is growing on me...

still needa futz more with the plum flower motif on her

also figure out her huadian situation or just scrap it idkidkidk

her bandana + 50% green coloring is also growing on me....

5'10"

Jennika

technically also ringed map turtle since it was Leo who gave her the blood transfusion

I like the idea of bringing her Blaschko's lines to the forefront post-mutation but just... it's a lot of stripes. and goddamnit I ain't even gonna go deep into much of anything with the comics I just... can't not world build rip me

6'0"

April

still so tickled at April being closer to the turtles' ages in these new reboots and fascinated how it's played out

...but mine is a clean 44 yo, so. (turtles in late 30s)

Laird originally conceived April as an asian woman in his notes, Eastman drew her as a biracial woman he was dating at the time (April Fisher) and... idk what to tell y'all, people are running around being mixed in this world all the time, Brooklyn got hella Jamaican/Chinese so there you go

can speak canto and hakka

April being a "weirdo" as I've seen mentioned in Rise can stay, I'm picking that, that's a great trait to her character, big fan of Poly Styrene, loved Rachel True in The Craft

where "weirdo" is just she's into alt subculture and being in New York... she got her hands everywhere in those scenes

She and Chu Hsi get to have the most shoujo fuckin' romance because it's cute

and she's still a living drawing which I'm changing around a bit being why she felt like a "weirdo" and leaned towards subcultures and the turtles, she did eventually begin to destabilize but Venus stabilized her by trapping her in a scroll so she could work on a solution. ...where she has a long, happy relationship with Chu Hsi in the painted world scroll because lol time dilation

saw somewhere on the hellsite that the tooth gap is passed around every iteration... so April gets to have it

5'7"

Irma

i'm not ashamed to say I just reupholstered Nadia from Russian Doll

87 Irma went through a lot so she can have some dry wit and humor and be fly as fuck, big hair, big glasses, and a big attitude

still besties with April

likes moths, they're just neat little guys with rabbit ears iykyk

there is a very specifc size of her hair I am battling to keep consistent the problem it never feels big enough

says "fuhgeddaboutit" and has yelled that she is, in fact, "walkin' here,"

... she might also have a little bit of Myrtle from AHS: Coven sprinkled in now that I'm thinking about it to sum her up

she knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody for any random thing you could want to try to find

all the delis and bodegas know her

discusses plot lines from soap operas with Splinter on weekends, they get heated

5'5"

... god all this and I was just gonna have them play spades and play a round of pickup street ball in silly little comics

#if you know my timezone #and you see me posting this #stop snitching #what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament #leave me to my demon hours #i should probably try melatonin though...#cuz this shit ain't working #how am I fuckin' alive???#spite #things tasting good #turtles #general nerd shit #and don't worry king #they still love your boys in the AU-verse #visdev is my enrichment activity #my dumb ass just happily knocking these out and not posting #cuz i was distracted by the euphoria of creation #hhh i needa push my shapes more #they can be crunchier

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Wait, What? 2

Bucky x pregnant reader, Avengers x reader (platonic)

A/N: A little back story for you and Bucky + the birth of baby Barnes! Did I throw away all my wips to write a quick part two of this? Yes, yes I did. Did anyone ask for this? Nah. Thank you to @slutforsexyseabass for the original concept and @xcaptain-winterx for sparking this idea for me, I live for this au.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, swearing, pregnancy

Word count: 3.1k

Part 3?

You woke up, feeling like you were by a furnace, your husband’s thick arm slung around your growing tummy. Bucky stirred in his sleep, pulling you closer to him as best as he could in the small hospital bed. You smiled, kissing his forehead softly before gently wiggling out of his hold, not wanting to wake him. The team sat around the waiting room, grinning as you took a seat beside them. Steve handed you a steaming mug of your favourite chamomile tea which you always drank each night when you lived at the compound.

“You guys waited here?” You hummed at the way the tea relaxed your nerves; you had been on edge ever since Bucky had been taken to the hospital.

“Obviously,” Nat sassed, pulling your hand to inspect the ring that sat on your finger, “He definitely has taste” she grinned, admiring the simple gold band with a round cut diamond and two smaller diamonds on either side.

“I mean we can see that, given his taste in women,” Tony smirked, still trying to wrap his head around how you had not only dated Bucky for 4 years but been married to him for 2. “Also, you still have to explain so much, how did this even start, Mrs. Barnes”

“Yup, I’m curious too” Steve smiled, shaking his head thinking about every time Bucky took a detour during their jogs, assuming he just needed alone time, clearly not.

You giggled, “I’m really sorry you guys had to find out this way, we wanted to tell you closer to the due date. It’s been killing him, having to hide everything from all you”

“Don’t sweat it, now spill”

4 years ago

2:50 am

You groaned in your bed, tossing and turning for a good four hours before accepting sleep would never come. Now you were just bored waiting for the hours to pass by. You scrolled through you phone landing on a muffin recipe; you weren’t accomplishing anything in bed right now anyway. You made your way down to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes as they landed on a beefy broody figure sitting at the kitchen counter. His long hair covered his face as he sipped on some coffee, his body tensing as you entered the kitchen.

You knew Bucky was having a hard time adjusting, usually locked away in his room, only leaving if he was by Steve’s side. You decided not to say anything, letting him drink his coffee while you pulled out the ingredients you needed for the muffins. Bucky watched you curiously, relaxing a little when you didn’t try to talk to him. You were in your own little world, flitting around the kitchen, measuring and mixing, placing liners in the muffin pan before pouring the batter in. You sat at the counter across from him, scrolling on your phone waiting for the oven timer to go off.

Bucky wasn’t one to look at women, he wasn’t Bucky from the 40’s anymore. Still, he couldn’t help sneaking a few glances as you sat across from him, your messy bed head, your over sized t-shirt with a faded picture of Minnie mouse, your tired eyes, the way your nose scrunched when you giggled at whatever your were watching. He appreciated that you hadn’t tried to bother him, giving him his space; he hadn’t felt this comfortable with anyone else other than Steve.

You got up from the stool as the oven dinged, grabbing the hot muffins and placing them on a cooling rack. You wordlessly pushed one in front of Bucky, setting the rest away in a container for the team in the morning before heading back to your room. It was the best fucking thing he ever ate.

It started becoming a regular occurrence; you’d bake while Bucky sat and drank his coffee or read a book. You had your first conversation after he mumbled a quiet thank you, trying his best not to moan, biting into the chocolate chip muffin. “I- uh, these are so good” You froze, surprised he continued talking, hiding your shock with a soft smile. “So so good”

“Thank you James” You giggled as he inhaled the muffin in less than 2 bites. “Call me Bucky”

Over the next few months, your night time conversations became something you continued in each other’s arms at when everyone else was asleep. Bucky would sneak in and out of your room, whispering sweet nothings, falling asleep peacefully, relishing in the warmth of your bare skin wrapped against his. You noticed a change in him after your first night together as he stroked your hair, his mind tormented as he stared at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“I love you doll” Bucky looked at you with glassy eyes, his heart racing as he rolled on top of you letting his body weight rest on you. “I love you so much”

You kissed his forehead, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks as his lip trembled. “I love you too Bucky, so so much, what’s wrong baby”

Bucky let out a shaky breath, resting his forehead on yours. Falling in love with you was not something he anticipated, and being with you meant people after him would now target you as well.

“I- fuck- we can’t be together doll, I won’t live with myself if something happens to you because of me”

You sat up shaking your head, holding his face firmly in your hands making him look at you. “I don’t care, I love you”

“Baby, its too danger-

“No. Do you love me?”

“More than anything y/n, you’re my everything babydoll”

“And you’re mine. I love you James”

You’d both decided to keep the relationship a secret, only interacting with each other on missions when necessary. He knew he wanted to marry you right then and there.

2 years later in Louisiana

You both walked hand in hand by the lake, giggling over the latest excuse Bucky had given Sam and Steve to sneak away so he could be with you instead. It wasn’t really difficult, he gave them a grumpy stare until they left, giggling like a school boy afterwards when he texted you to meet him by the pier. You watched the sunset, as your arms wrapped around his waist, your head resting on his chest. His heart beat was erratic but he gazed at you with calm blue eyes.

“Y/n”

“mm?”

He closed his eyes resting his forehead on yours, taking a deep breath before taking your hand in his, getting down on one knee.

“Um, I- I’m not great with words but you make my heart complete y/n. You’ve been my light, my absolute everything, I never felt like I belonged here, in this time or deserved this kind of love but you changed all of th-that,” Bucky’s voice cracked as you choked out a sob, clinging onto his hand. He chuckled, struggling to hold back tears himself.

“Baby, if you cry, I’ll start crying,” Bucky sniffled as you whimpered, nodding for him to continue. “I love you so much, y/n”

“Even when I first wake up?”

Bucky chuckled nodding his head, “Especially when you first wake up with your messy bed head” “Even if I steal all your sweaters?”

“I want to run out of sweaters because you keep taking them”

You giggled between sobs, as Bucky pulled out a small black velvet box with a beautiful golden ring.

“Y/n y/l/n, I promise baby I’ll protect you for as long as I breathe, I’ve wanted this for so long. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

You flung your arms around Bucky, knocking him over as he laughed, wrapping his arms around you. He slipped the ring on your finger, peppering your face with kisses all over, “Let’s get married tomorrow? Right here?” You sat up, butterflies erupting in your tummy with excitement.

“How Buck?”

“I’ll figure it out, say yes baby; I don’t want to marry you anywhere else”

The soft white material of your wedding dress flowed in the breeze as you stood hand in hand with Bucky, in front of the wedding officiant, the same sweet elderly man who worked at the floral shop you got your bouquet from. Your hair was in soft waves eyes glistening looking at your gorgeous soon to be husband in his black suit. You whispered your vows to each other, exchanging your rings, kissing each other sweetly, excited to start your life together.

4 months ago

“Fuck baby, right there Bucky”

You whined under him as his hips rocked into you, struggling to keep your moans low. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, desperate to feel all of him after he came from a particularly long mission away from you. As soon as everyone was asleep, he was in your room, clothes thrown on the floor, no teasing, nothing separating you. You spread your legs for him as he lay on top of you, pushing his cock in, stretching you perfectly every time.

“Needed this babygirl, needed this so fucking bad” Bucky moaned into your neck, his arms wrapped around you holding you close to him. He wanted to make love to you slowly, feel every inch of your skin, breathe in your scent. “I missed you so much”

“I-I love you” You held his face in your hands, kissing him deeply, swallowing his moans as his thrusts sped up.

“Just like that baby, James please” Buck groaned feeling the way you fluttered around his cock, your nails clawing down his back desperate to be as close to him as possible. He pinned your hands against the bed, grinding his cock into you making you cry out as your came undone under him. “Fuck I love you, I love you” Your walls squeezed and milked his cock, making it difficult for him to move.

“I love you too baby, so fucking much” His forehead rested on yours as he started to feel his climax build, “Baby, fuck you feel so good” He bit own on your shoulder to keep from moaning loudly, stilling as he spilled his cum into you, not bothering to pull out.

3 weeks later

You stared at the ceiling as Bucky lay beside you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Y/n?”

He looked up at you, your eyes looking off into the distance, as his hand cupped your face to look at him. You wanted this more than anything but you never discussed anything and you didn’t know how Bucky would take it.

“What’s on your mind baby?” You shook your head, hoping to avoid the conversation but Bucky persisted. “y/n? You swallowed thickly, your eyes stinging with tears unsure of how to get the words out. “You’re scaring me baby, tell me what’s wrong”

You silently took his hand, pressing it on your tummy, blinking up at him. Bucky looked at you for a moment before sitting up wide eyed.

“Are you…?”

“I’m pregnant”

His blue eyes sparkled as he moved to your tummy, kissing you all over, nuzzling his face in, holding you close.

“I’m going to be a dad?” His voice was muffled as he kept his face there, buried in your tummy.

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks as Bucky smiled at you with excitement, snuggling into your stomach, sniffling, whispering sweet nothings while you carded your fingers through his hair.

“You’re okay with this Buck?”

Bucky nodded, crawling up to kiss every inch of your face, his body shaking with excitement. You’d shown him love, purpose, everything he could ever dream of and now you were giving him a family.

“More than okay babygirl, thank you, you’ve given me everything”

Present

“And that’s that!” You smiled, watching Steve reach for a box of tissues, passing it around the team as they quickly tried their faces, pretending nothing happened. Except Sam who hiccupped a few times before getting his sobs under control. “Now Bucky comes over when he has time and-

“You’re moving back to the compound now, no if’s, ands or buts” Tony stated, uninterested in any possible excuse you could think of.

“Tony, I can’t-

“Look, we’ll make your room and Bucky’s room into 1 unit. There will be more than enough space for you both and the baby and if you need more than that, we’ll kick capsicle to the next floor and you guys will have the entire area to yourselves”

“But Fury-

“Can suck it” Sam stated, “C’mon, just move back y/n”

“I still have my desk job-

“Fuck that, your job is with us. You have what, 5 months left till your due date?” You nodded and Tony thought for a moment. “Give me a week to get the room ready, Manchurian candidate should be discharged by then and you can move in. Just come back, it’ll be better for you and Barnes can stop pretending to go on jogs just to see you. He walks around like a kicked puppy when Sam decides to tag along and now it makes sense”

You threw your arms around Tony, not wasting another second.

“Okay”

5 months later

“C’mon baby, push, you can do it”

Bucky held your hand as you screamed, searing hot pain shooting through your body as you struggled to push. You gasped; your body exhausted having struggled for the past hour.

“I-I can’t” Your head fell back, tears and sweat pouring down your face. Bucky placed his metal hand on your forehead, stroking your hair as you cried out.

“You can babygirl, almost there, just a bit more”

“It hurts, it fucking hurts Bucky” You whimpered, your body feels like it was being torn open.

“I know angel, almost there”

Your chest heaved as your blood pressure started to drop. Bucky’s eyes stung with tears seeing you in so much pain, looking to Dr.Cho as she checked on you. “You’re doing good y/n, breath in and one big push, almost there”

“You can do it mama, I love you, I love you so much” You screamed out, grasping Bucky’s metal hand, pushing as best as you could, pressure radiating through the lower half of your body.

“That’s the head y/n, keep doing, give me one more” Dr. Cho nodded at you as you took a few deep breathes before pushing again. The sounds of crying filled the room as she placed your baby on your chest. You cradled your tiny son while Bucky cried beside you, kissing you, completely in love with his little baby, his heart completely full. Dr. Cho momentarily took your little one away to clean him up leaving you and Bucky together.

“So proud of you babydoll, I’m so proud of you, you did so good, so fucking good” He kissed your forehead as you leaned against him exhausted, closing your eyes.

“I love you James”

“I love you mama”

Dr. Cho came back, a tiny bundle in her hands. You cradled you baby in your arms, kissing his tiny chubby face. You looked at Bucky, nodding as he hesitated for a moment, taking his son in his arms, cradling him, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s so small”. You smiled at the way Bucky’s huge arms engulfed the baby, making it almost difficult to see he was carrying anything.

“I can’t believe he’s here” Bucky sniffled, kissing his son’s tiny forehead as he sat down beside you, rocking him. Bucky peppered your face with gentle kisses, nuzzling against you, still in shock. “We didn’t talk about names doll”

You giggled, snuggling closer to Bucky as you traced your finger over your sons tiny nose, little pouty lips and a full head of hair, a dark chestnut brown just like his dad’s. “I thought of a name”

Bucky looked at you curiously as you whispered the name you picked. He looked at you, tears brimming his eyes again, “It’s perfect y/n-are you sure doll?”

“After my favourite people” You pulled Bucky down, kissing his nose before taking your son back in your arms.

“How are you feeling, up for some visitors?” Dr. Cho smiled at you as she walked through the door with Steve, Tony, Sam and Nat following behind, with balloons, flowers and gifts in tow. You giggled at the giant floral arrangement Tony set beside you, along with a basket filled with baby clothes.

“I had these made myself” Tony grinned as Bucky picked up a tiny black onesie; the left sleeve dark grey with tiny gold accents resembling Bucky’s arm. A picture of two tiny silver dog tags resembling a chain was printed on the front. Bucky snorted seeing a tiny iron man onesie with a matching bib that said Ironman is the best. “There’s more in your room, we just couldn’t bring all the presents down here” Tony and Thor had custom vibranium and Asgardian baby toys made; keeping in mind the baby would likely have Bucky’s strength early on. Peter had bought a mini library of baby books. Bruce had patented a baby formula specially made for the tiny super soldier.

“Guys, you didn’t have to-

“Shh, yes we did”

Sam placed a soft white wolf and falcon plushie on your lap, grinning at the tiny bundle sleeping in your arms. Nat brought you your favourite bath salts and bubble bath along with a little teddy bear that had a t-shirt with “I love my Aunty Nat” embroidered on the front. Steve held two giant teddy bears that were nearly the size of him, one in a Captain America suit, the other in a black leather jacket with a plush metal arm, along with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. The team stood around you cooing at the tiny bundle in your arms.

“So did we decide on a name yet? I heard the name Anthony is pretty popular these days” Tony smirked as Nat groaned smacking his arm. You looked at Bucky before nodding, turning to everyone.

“Meet our son, Steven Grant James Barnes”

Steve gasped, tears welling in his eyes, wiping them away poorly as more continued to spill. His voice cracked as he spoke, hardly above a whisper, “Y-you named him after me?” Bucky nodded, hugging his friend, the one person he had for family before he met you or the team.

“Do you want to hold him?” You smiled as Steve sniffled, taking the tiny bundle in his arms.

“Hey little guy, it’s your Uncle Steve” He cooed, his thumb tracing over the baby’sf features. “U-uncle St-Steve will always protect y-you”. He choked out a sob looking at the tiny baby that was a perfect mix of you and Bucky.

“Actually we wanted to ask you something else”

Steve looked at you both curiously, stuttering ad he spoke “W-what p-punk?”

“Would you- will you be the god father?”

Steve hiccuped a few times before nodding, his body trembling, holding your son close to his chest.

“Alright enough, time for the fun uncle, Uncle Steve needs a moment to get it together” Sam smirked, discreetly wiping his face before picking up the baby, rocking him in his arms, smiling “Hey little man, Steve Junior. You’re gonna have lots of fun with Uncle Sam, I’ll teach you how to fly, I’ll teach you how to throw your uncles shield, we can steal daddy’s arm together ”

“Hey! Steal the shield, leave my arm out of this Tweety bird”

“Yeah, that’s enough, Aunty Nat’s turn” Natasha squealed at the little baby in her arms, blinking away tears, feeling unexpectedly emotional. “Fat”

“Best for last obviously” Tony grinned, looking at the little baby in awe, “Worlds first baby super soldier, Uncle Tony is going to give you the coolest gadgets, and take you to cool parties and buy you everything you want and then you’ll forget all about crying Uncle Steve, flying Uncle Sam and mean Aunty Nat”

“Hey y/n?” Sam smiled at you sheepishly, holding your hand, attempting the same puppy pout Bucky used to get everything he wanted. “When will you bake muffins again?”

You burst out laughing as Tony handed the baby over to Bucky before smacking Sam upside the head.

You snuggled against Bucky, falling asleep as the team continued to take turns passing around the little bundle. Bucky gently wrapped his arms around you as best as he could, the coolness of his metal arm soothing you.

“Baby, you gave me everything”

It was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

Part 3

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed! Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14

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jilixthinker · 6 months

Text

embryos

☆ MASTERLIST ☆

PART 1 PART 2

pairing: felix × jisung

genre: angst, supernatural, smut

summary: "purity. those who possess it can have the access. it's like a key. only the pure souls who die in your world can enter in mine. the only requirement is a body. flesh in exchange for the eternal sun".

word count: 5.5 K (in part 1)

content warning: depression, death, mentions of suicide, pain and sufference, parallel universes, smut, jisung and felix are so in love it hurts, eventual happy ending

a/c: i wrote this a few years ago and never finished it, but i cared so much about the idea itself that i forced myself back to finally put an end to it. i still don't know how many chapters i will divide this into, but i guess it will be 3/4 maximum. please, enjoy it at least half as much as i did ♡

I have never been a diamond. For as long as I can remember, I have always sided with the useless. Many have tried to make me face who I am, and still, the only thing I could see were black eyes and no intention to exist. Even after years, when I look in the mirror, my image continues to show me something I do not recognize as myself. I never wanted to shine, I was always at the bottom of a hole. Never a diamond, just a lightless opal. Strings pulling a puppet without someone to maneuver it. A reflection.

Jisung wakes up the way incongruents do. He opens his eyes, blinks twice, maybe three times. As the light overbearingly invades the room, he curses and swears at everything around him. If he knew more than one language he would probably curse in that one too. He throws his legs off the bed and slowly stretches them. He arches his back like a cat and feels his vertebrae snap as if they were moving away from each other.

The first foot on the icy floor is traumatic, as always, and the second is certainly no better. With shuffling steps he makes his way to the window, the cause and fault of all that light, and behind the wide-open sashes he finds a busy Seoul, more alive than ever. Jisung snorts contritely and pulls the small rope that holds the blinds up. Only when the room stagnates in a lazy half-light, he lets out a sigh of relief. He takes two steps toward the mattress and for a few seconds he thinks about throwing himself back on it, fuck all commitments, classes, university, and fuck his phone that just decided to ring.

Groping around, with his eyes still half-closed, he slips an arm under his pillow and looks for the cause of all that noise. He brushes against the cover of his cell phone, which slides a few inches forward, slipping from his fingers. Oh, that's perfect. Thank you. When he finally manages to grab it, he unlocks the call without even looking at the screen.

"No".

From the other line he ears a grunt and a cough, then an overly deep voice.

"No, what?"

Jisung rolls his eyes and sits on his bed, crossing his ankles and shaking his head.

"Minho?"

"No, your majesty the queen. I won't take a no as an answer from anyone, especially not from you".

More noises in the background. Jisung thinks he hears a slap, another grunt, and the squelching sound of a kiss.

"Jisung? Sorry, that animal took my phone from my hands while you were answering me".

Another voice, much more graceful and alert than the previous one, rings inside his ear. Jisung barely pulls the device away while looking up.

"Do we want to continue with all this whining or are you going to tell me why you called me? I'm quite busy".

"Busy? Are you jacking off? Anyway, I heard you answering no. And you know I don't accept a no as an answer from anyone, especially from..."

Jisung stands up from his bed and stumbles over a slipper. Not that balance has ever been his best quality.

"Did you and your boyfriend decided to talk the same way to irritate me endlessly? Because you always do it without even trying, just for you to know".

The voice squeaks in a distinctly offended tone, and Jisung can imagine his interlocutor's lips curving into a grimace.

"Han Jisung, if you don't get your ass out your house and get ready in twenty minutes, I swear to God I will set fire to your life and everything I can find in it. You cannot miss another class. That is mandatory".

The sound of the closed signal wakes Jisung up from the morning fog. He runs a hand over his sweaty face and, with the phone still wedged between his shoulder and head, he whispers.

"Good morning to you, Chan".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

After twenty minutes and many other curses, Jisung is standing outside of his elegant building. His lace-up shoes, combed hair, and an off-white shirt shine as if lit by stage spotlights. He glances at the expensive watch he wears on his wrist and he thinks that, if impressions were always right, then he would be a spoiled daddy's boy with a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life. Instead, he reflects bitterly as Chan's car pulls up in front of him, he is a daddy's boy who hates his privileged status, with no one beside him and a nuclear explosion always about to burst his brain. But there is no need to worry. Impressions are everything.

"You have awful dark circles".

Jisung slips into the back seat of Chan's expensive car. He tosses his shoulder strap and smiles sarcastically at Minho.

"I wouldn't worry about other people's dark circles with an ugly face like yours".

Minho bursts out laughing, slowly driving back into the lane. Jisung leans toward the seat in front of his, hugging the backrest.

"Someday you will explain to me why you always let him drive your car".

Chan turns to look at him and pinches his nose. He does this on purpose to make him nervous because he knows how much Jisung despites physical contact.

"Because I can recognize my limits, unlike you. And don't try to deflect the topic. You missed a week of classes, the professors were starting to get impatient, and I couldn't take notes for the three of us. Can you explain what the fuck were you doing?"

Jisung shakes off his best friend with a vacant stare.

"The three of us?" He asks, sidestepping the question.

"You know that this animal", Chan reaches out to point at Minho "does everything but paying attention. However, an answer would be more than welcome".

Jisung huffs and crosses his legs against the seat in front of him. He does not want to answer. He has no reason to justify his absence from classes. He did absolutely nothing during that week. He procrastinated everything that could be done, ate very little and showered even less. He spent all his time lying on his huge bed in his huge house, alone, looking at the ceiling and thinking about how his life was going in a completely unfamiliar and negative direction. Starting with the university that had been chosen by someone else, his house that had been delivered to him already furnished, and all the relationships that he had that now seemed false, distant, and unattainable. Jisung felt like his essence was been split against his will and another person was living his life. His real self was behind a mirror, imprisoned and motionless, watching him silently, without uttering a word.

He closes his eyes and presses his fingers to the junction of his nose.

"I had a fever, I couldn't get up".

Chan sighs. He doesn't believe him for a moment, but insisting with Jisung is like yelling to a mountain to get up and walk.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Minho pulls over near the curb to let Jisung and Chan off. He said that he will not join them. He has an interview with a colleague of his parents who may decide to take him as an intern. Chan places a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. A kiss that, according to Jisung, lasts a little too long considering they are not alone, and then he runs into the cafeteria next to the university to get them two iced americanos. Jisung picks up his briefcase and smooths out the creases on his blue cigarette pants.

"You are not well".

Minho is looking at him as people may look at an underfed dog on the side of the road.

"Why do I feel like this is not a question?"

Jisung gets out of the car and closes the door, then walks over to stand next by the other boy and he scrutinizes him for a few seconds. Minho works as a model, it's inevitable for him to be attractive. He has muscular legs, fair skin, and big eyes. But Jisung knows that's not the reason he was hired. The truth is that Minho knows exactly what he wants, from everything. From his job, from his relationship, from life. He has a very strong determination that is impossible not to notice in his gaze.

Jisung instead, and he turns around to look at his image in the rearview mirror, has the gaze of someone who does not even want to be noticed.

"It wasn't. It was an observation".

"I don't need any help".

"I know. You and I are the same".

Jisung bursts out laughing, his laugh drained of any sort of amusement.

"You and I have nothing in common, for your luck".

Minho smiles at him accommodatingly as he places one hand on the steering wheel and one on the gear. Jisung steps out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

He looks at his reflection on Chan’s shiny red car. He can barely recognize the lips he was so proud of, even if it’s ridiculous to think about it now that it seems like centuries have passed. They are a lurid, wispy copy of what they used to be. He has absolutely no recollection of how long it has been since he last kissed someone with that mouth. There is not a single time he can look at himself without a sense of nausea pervading him from head to toe and forcing him to look away immediately. Despite his best efforts, however, his image haunts him wherever he goes and whatever he does.

A rather violent push wakes him up from his thoughts. Minho is still in front of him, huffing because the light is still red and preventing him from moving forward. Jisung turns his head to see where the push came from. He catches a glimpse of the back of a boy who is quickly walking away.

"Hey!"

He yells at him loudly enough so that the latter can hear him above the infernal noise of the traffic, but the boy keeps walking fast, almost quickening his pace.

Jisung moves forward and decides that no, he absolutely does not want to be ignored like that by someone who has just run into him.

"Hey!", he repeats, and starts running until he finds himself behind him. A few meters behind, the green light finally lets Minho turn on the engine.

"I'm not saying you have apologize, but at least you could turn around".

Jisung grabs the arm of the rude stranger who quickly walks into the crosswalk, dragging Jisung with him. He doesn’t even give him a glance and doesn’t turn around.

Jisung opens his mouth and now he is sure that he will not continue to be so kind if this guy is going to avoid him. He absentmindedly hears Chan's footsteps coming out of the cafeteria and he's about to tell him to wait for him just a moment, just long enough for him to clear a few things up with the stranger who has, he's pretty sure, hit him on purpose.

Instead, his ears catch only the sound of the two coffee cups slipping down from his friend's hands and a shrill quiver. He just has the time to turn his head and see Chan with his mouth wide open and his eyes terrified, standing motionless on the sidewalk, with one hand extended in his direction.

"What..."

But he does not have the time to finish the sentence because he feels a tug from the stranger he is still grabbing by the elbow, and then a dull pain.

The last thing he senses is an immense red stain in front of him, smell of burning tires irritating his nostrils and a loud ringing noise in his ears. Then nothing.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

beep beep beep

-Jisung-.

Jisung hears a familiar voice calling him. Jisung? Was that the right name? His ears do not react. Another low sounding voice echoes around him.

"Jisung. Come back. We won't let you go".

Something touches his face, very lightly. A deep breath. Jisung tries to figure out in what position his body is placed. He feels forced into something even though he is almost certain he is lying down. He seems to be missing a piece, a part of himself. There is a strong foreign smell of disinfectant alcohol. He tries to open his eyes but cannot find the right muscles to do so.

"Please".

The first voice, the softer, more familiar one, continues to speak to him. He feels a hand caressing his face and eyelids. Once he feels that pressure, he finally identifies where his eyes are and manages to blink once.

"He is waking up".

It takes him a few moments to bring the scene into focus. There is too much white and the light is glaring. He sees, first blurred and then increasingly sharp, three faces leaning over him. Two of them he recognizes, one of them he does not know to whom he belongs. He closes and reopens his eyelids several times until he completely focuses on his surroundings.

"Where..."

He tries to speak but his voice is unfamiliar, as if he had just finished working in the mine. He coughs and regrets it bitterly a second later. Every breath causes him a painful twinge in his chest.

"You are at the hospital".

Chan speaks to him with shining eyes. Jisung turns his head and sees several tubes attached to his arm.

"What?"

Minho curls an arm around Chan's waist and pulls him close. The doctor, the man whose face he did not recognize, checks the IVs and the monitor beside his bed.

"Talk and move as little as possible. The more you try to rest the faster we can discharge you".

He gives him a smile, then looks apprehensively at the two boys next to him and leaves the room.

"What", repeats Jisung panting. His breathing quickens as he realizes where he is.

"You had an accident". Minho squeezes Chan tightly as he speaks. "You crossed the street all of a sudden, I was too close. I tried to hit the brakes but you were..."

He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes. He tightens his lips as he tries not to fidget like his boyfriend.

"Jisung", continues Chan. "I came out of the cafeteria and I saw you crossing the street with someone. The light was green, Minho was a meter away from you, he couldn't stop on time. He literally drove all over you. You were in a coma for a week. I, we thought ..."

His words are interrupted as he begins to cry his body shaking violently.

One week. One week of coma. Jisung's eyes are wide open and he feels his heart stop.

"We thought you wouldn't make it".

Minho's voice is terribly serious. It is obvious that he feels responsible for what has happened.

"What do I have now?".

The voice seems not to belong to him, as if it came from miles away and he heard only its distant echo.

"You have nothing, that's what no one can understand. You should have your pelvis broken, together with all your ribs, arms and legs. You should have a head injury. You should be dead, really. They did all the checks on you as soon as you got here. Nothing came up. In fact, you weren't even really in a coma. It was like you were asleep. No one has given a plausible explanation, Jisung. It seems like a miracle".

At those words, Chan detangles himself from his boyfriend's protective embrace and collapses on Jisung, crying on his neck and caressing his shoulders and all the parts he can reach.

"I will never be able to forget the noise the car made when it crashed into you. Never".

Minho lowers his head and begins to tremble as well before slumping down in the chair beside the bed. Jisung just lifts his arm to let it rest on Chan's head and stroke his hair. The movement costs him immense effort.

"It's not your fault, Minho".

Minho sinks his hands into his hair and a few tears line his cheeks.

"Yes it is. I should have gone slower, I should have tried to stop earlier, I should have..."

Jisung raises a finger to silence him and shakes his head very slowly. No, he mimes with his lips, it's not your fault. Chan seems to recover and looks up at him.

"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in my life". he whispers and caresses Jisung’s sweat-soaked forehead.

Jisung closes his eyes. He feels his head bursting as if he had a crowd of people inside of it, jumping and banging their feet on his brain.

A week asleep in something which is not even a coma. Nothing broken, no repercussions. Like it never happened. It seems so unreal to him that he thinks he's going to wake up in his room, with the alarm beeping annoyingly and no will to go to class.

Then, in a second, a thought hits him on the spot and he stiffens.

"There was another person. There was another person with me".

It’s little more than a hiss, but Chan and Minho hear him. The two boys look at each other, and Jisung clearly sees something snap. He can almost hear the sound of it when Chan takes his right wrist in his hands, gently.

"The other person died".

Jisung does not sleep that night and neither does the following.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Jisung is discharged three days later.

His parents called him from the US. The line was bad and he couldn't say much. Not that he had much to tell, he couldn't remember anything, and he wouldn't have wanted to hear their voices anyway. Their son could have died in a car accident, and they didn't even care enough to take a plane to visit him. But he expected it after all. In fact, he is not even that disappointed when he finds out that Chan and Minho were the only ones staying with him during the days he was unconscious.

Jisung decides not to ask the other boy's name. He simply cannot. And even though he does not believe in the existence of God, he thanks him. He thanks him all the way home, with Chan and Minho attached to him, afraid to let him move. He thanks him for seconds, minutes, hours. He thanks him, but not for being alive. He thanks him because he didn’t see his face. If he had, if the boy had turned around when he grabbed his arm, his face would have been sculpted in his mind like a firebrand.

But he didn’t see it, and that allows him a sort of detachment, some dignity. It spares him some pain. That’s why he is grateful to a God in whom he doesn’t even believe. Maybe Jisung will be able to move on without the remorse hunting him, reminding him that if he hadn’t chased him, if he hadn’t screamed and touched him, the boy could still be alive. alive. alive. alive.

"Jisung".

Jisung looks away from the buildings flowing behind the cab window. Chan smiles at him. Minho, two days earlier, confessed that he destroyed the car. He would never be able to get into it again after the accident.

"I'm fine". he answers to the unspoken question.

In fact, it's not even a lie. He is fine, he feels no pain whatsoever and he is able to move perfectly as nothing ever happened. But then he remembers the nape of that neck, the slim waist, the thin arm he grabbed, and he realizes that no, he is not fine at all.

They get outside of his building a few minutes later. Jisung stares at it, standing imposingly in one of the most luxurious parts of the city, and inside he knows he doesn't deserve any of that.

"I'll walk you upstairs".

Chan takes his hand and tries to open the door, but Jisung pulls him back and forces him to sit back in his seat.

"No need. I can go. You guys go and rest".

"Jisung, I will not leave you".

Chan crosses his arms over his chest and looks at him seriously, with a worried frown in his voice.

Jisung knows he just wants to protect him, but Chan doesn't understand how much he needs to stay alone with himself and his thoughts.

"But I need to be alone".

Minho nods understandingly and holds his boyfriend against his chest.

"Call us if you need anything. You know we are here".

Jisung forces a smile. Minho looks at him and he knows it's not spontaneous, but he appreciates that he tried despite everything.

"I know. Thank you".

He gets out of the cab with his small bag containing his clothing, medications and tranquilizers, plus a prescription for a psychologist session that he is certain he will not use. The vehicle behind him disappears into the traffic.

Jisung looks around and everything seems so strange, unnatural, and different, almost frightening to him. With a sigh he crosses the threshold of the building and walks down the hall feeling everyone's gaze on him.

Before anyone can speak to him, however, he steps into the elevator and leans his back against the polished wall. He looks up and tries hard not to think about when, an instant before the crash, he pulled the boy against his chest.

When he enters in his apartment, it almost seems that time did not pass. Everything is still as it was the day of the accident. When Minho came to get his clothes he evidently did not touch anything else, and Jisung mentally thanks him for that. Jisung faces the bed, which is still unmade, and throws himself on it carelessly. The mattress bounces under his weight.

The window is closed, but Seoul's afternoon light filters inside from the large living room balcony. Jisung curls up and closes his eyes trying to silence the voices in his head, and he thinks that somewhere in the universe someone must really hate him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

He wakes up that it is barely dawn. A dim ray, too weak to really disturb him, hits his sleep-wrinkled face and softens his forehead. He has been tossing and turning in bed all night. Not that he thought he was going to sleep, but he hoped that his head would give him at least a few hours of rest before starting to replay in slow motion the full dynamics of the crash. He listlessly gets up and shuffles into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator in search of something to eat.

He picks up a jar of yogurt, but when he looks at the expiration date he tosses it into the dumpster. A black banana falls into his hand. Jisung shudders because he only eats unripe fruit, and he throws that too. Eventually he finds a box of rice cereals buried on the top floor of the pantry. He begins to eat it leaning against the peninsula of the table while chewing slowly and looking out from the balcony. The city has woken up before him, as far as he can hear from the sound of the engines and horns coming from outside. Living on the top floor of a building in Gangnam is irrelevant if you can't have some peace, he thinks.

When his stomach seems to have calmed down, he decides to take a shower. Maybe that will wash away the horrible feeling of heaviness, together with the hospital smell he has been carrying around for days.

He is about to take off his shirt and pants when he hears his phone ringing insistently.

"How are you?"

Jisung lowers his pants and boxers in one swoop while he puts his phone in an impossible position on the crook of his neck.

"As I should".

"And that is?".

"Like shit, Chan".

He hears a soft snort from the other line. He can imagine his friend pacing up and down in his apartment, trying not to wake up Minho.

"Do you want me to come over? You won’t have anything to eat. I'll bring you lunch later".

Jisung takes off his shirt too and stands naked in the half-light, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.

"Thanks but it's not..."

Chan interrupts him, the angry tone clashing with his pain.

"Han Jisung, don't tell me it's not necessary or I swear I'll kick your ass. I'll just bring you lunch. And don't you dare not to open the door. I spent the night thinking about you, all alone in that huge thing you call home, so I expect you to eat whatever I’ll get you. Did I make myself clear?"

Jisung remains silent a few seconds, waiting for his friend to finish his rant.

"You have made yourself clear. But now get a couple of hours of sleep. When I said I feel like crap I didn't mean I'm going to jump out of a window. Okay?"

"Not at all. See you later".

As usual, the sound of the line makes Jisung wake up completely.

"See you later". he murmurs to himself.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The water is warm and reddens his skin. Jisung stands still and looks at the ceiling. For a moment he forgets what did happen up to that moment. For a second he is just Han Jisung, he is twenty-three years old, a law student who has two very good friends, a beautiful house and no problems. A normal guy. Everything looks so right inside that steamy cabin where everything exists in its proper place, perfectly set in every corner of his head.

However, when he slides the transparent door open, everything reverts to its disordered state and evaporates along with the drops of boiling water. Jisung absentmindedly observes the skin of his stomach. There are no marks left to testify the accident, and the IV holes are disappearing from his arms. Perhaps time will heal his thoughts as well.

He takes a towel from the closet next to the shower and he vigorously rubs his hair and face. He has no idea about the conditions of his face, to tell the truth. He has not looked at himself for more than a week.

He places the spongy fabric on a shelf and he approaches the mirror. He crinkles his eyes and thousands of black dots appear in front of him, blurring his vision. He staggeringly leans against the sink and waits until he can see everything clearly again. The lights above the mirror are too bright, and Jisung quickly thinks he needs to replace them.

"I must look terrible". he murmurs to himself, laughing dryly.

"You do not".

A voice clearly resonates inside the room.

Jisung turns icy, motionless. A meaningless echo rumbles with the quick realization that someone is there.

Someone broke into.

Into his house. Into his bathroom.

Jisung breath quickens. He keeps his gaze on the sink, trying to figure out where that voice might be coming from.

No one has the keys to his apartment, he thinks disconnectedly. Only Chan knows where he hides them. But a break-in seems unreasonable to him. His apartment is on the 25th floor of a building which is under constant surveillance.

Then who, how, why

"Who are you?"

His voice gushes out rather controlled compared to the nuclear bomb that has just exploded inside his chest. Jisung barely straightens his back and, from the corner of his eyes, he looks behind him, searching for a shadow that would give him a hint of where the stranger is hiding.

"Look up".

The stranger's voice is calm, gentle. A simple observation.

Jisung straightens up a bit. The voice is not coming from behind, he is sure.

"Who are you?" he repeats.

This time his mask of fake strength cracks blatantly. He takes a fleeting glance at his hands and he is not surprised to find them shaking.

"Why don't you see it by yourself?"

Jisung's brain makes a space-time jump. He is no longer inside his bathroom, but in his parents' house. In the living room, to be exact. He is sixteen years old, with fairly long and neglected hair, and an uncertain smile on his face. His brother is sitting in front of him. He is talking to him.

"When you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation", he tells him, "and you can't make the right decision, you have to consider everything you see as a dream inside your imagination. A dream you are living as the protagonist. You think you don't know what is going to happen, but the only one who decides the fate of the ending is you. Even if you don't know it. Even if the events make no sense. You are the only master of your dream and the only director of your life. So, take a breath, open your eyes and observe. Don't get carried away by your emotions. Watch everything as if it doesn’t affect you personally. Because, at the end, it’s just a scene in the movie you are filming. Twists and turns are inevitable, but if you pay attention you will see that there are small discrepancies between the reels that you change. You just have to watch and breathe. Just that, Jisung. Watch and breathe".

Watch and breathe.

Jisung hears those words blowing in his ears. He lifts his head and, somewhere far away, he hears the ticking of water drops falling on the floor.

In front of him there is still the same mirror framing in perspective the bathroom where he is standing. Watching and breathing.

Jisung watches and breathes.

He watches the reflection of a fair body in front of him, a body with a small chest and narrow shoulders, eyes large and expressive, hair blonde, long and neat.

He breathes what must be liquid oxygen, because he feels it flowing differently inside his lungs, it cannot be just air.

He watches a pair of red lips, a small nose, and milky skin adorned with freckles. A face that almost seems to glow under the light of the bulb. He breathes sweat, and he feels as if it rests on his body in a veil, enveloping him completely.

He watches a shy smile, not bold or opinionated. A smile which is just overwhelmingly sweet.

He watches a face of a stranger he has never seen. And he breathes, breathes blood bubbling unsteadily under his enlarged veins.

The reflection in the mirror is not Jisung. The reflection in the mirror is everything Jisung is not. Because Jisung has a tan body, a broad chest and broad shoulders. Jisung has sharp, dull eyes, wet hair, and pale, wispy lips. His nose is bigger and his skin is dull despite of being damp from the shower. Jisung does not smile under the light bulb. Jisung has something that prevents him from pulling his facial muscles and curling his mouth. Jisung is naked in front of the mirror, yet he is wearing a mask. Jisung doesn’t shine, above all. He doesn’t shine.

The boy behind the mirror watches him and breathes. He watches him and breathes in a way that is the same of Jisung, but so much different that it almost hurts. So he reaches out his hand and rests it on the surface of the glass, as to reassure him.

And that’s when he speaks again, when his voice echoes inside that room, that Jisung knows that he is really what he will never be.

"I have always been here". he says.

Then all the lights turn off, or perhaps it’s Jisung himself that is turning off. He closes his eyes and it almost feels like an abomination because he was finally seeing a light.

The last image he sees it’s a hand on a glass in a bathroom, in a building, in a city whose name he cannot remember.

But that's okay.

Because Jisung believes him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

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