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#age is confusing when you are dead.
ivorysodapop · 5 months
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Design stuff!!! It's a little more drastic bc WWX is DEAD but differences between them also
AU Masterlist
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paintingformike · 1 year
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mlevens when the challenge is to explain these scenes without having to go through insane mental gymnastics every single time
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starlooove · 1 year
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I’ve been inspired by @milimeters-morales so here’s my transfemme miles HAIR hcs bc hair is vv important to me:
So first she rocks with it short and she doesn’t rlly feel a need to grow it out or anything since it honestly really helps with the mask and that didn’t contribute to her dysphoria, like at all. At first it made her kinda self conscious bc she always read shit about ppl hating like every aspect of themselves, but there’s a lot about her self that she genuinely just doesn’t give a fuck about and her hair is one of them buuuuutttt
She starts seeing those little memes of the blk girl starter pack or throwback pics of favorite beads and she’s feeling a little jealous…and she feels so ridiculous bc no way is she getting this upset bc of a Twitter trend but she is and so she decides to do what she always does when she’s upset and just wants to rant as opposed to finding a solution; she goes to uncle Aaron
He hooks her up with the best braider on the block and listen, Miles KNOWS it’s gonna be a nightmare when she has to do spider stuff, she KNOWS she’ll probably have to take the beads out soon for stealth reasons, but for now she grins in the mirror and shakes her head till she’s dizzy just to hear the click clacking of the red and blue beads <3
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semercury · 9 months
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Do I feel obligated to stay after my shift? Yes. But it's because I have a martyr complex. Hope this helps 🙏
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pagesofkenna · 30 days
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literally everything about the dead boys show would be ten times better if the alive girls in the show were all full adults
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sing-me-under · 7 months
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You know, I love Batfam as like an actual family but also I don’t really understand how people can look at the actual comics Batfam and think “yeah, these people are definitely family” like… at BEST they resemble something like martial siblings in wuxia novels. Sometimes they’re close enough to genuinely be brothers/sisters in all but blood but sometimes they’re also just “yeah we trained under the same sect and have a shared teacher but one of us has a life long grudge against him”
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cursingtoji · 3 months
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“hm hello? do you need help?” yuuji approached the lady walking the hallways so slowly she seemed lost.
“huh?” you turned and he smiled, thinking how gorgeous you looked. your uniform was a lot like nobara’s, although it was lighter, like it was slightly bleached or just worn a lot, “no, i… i go here.”
“oh are you gojo-sensei’s student too?” he was excited to meet another student, it was such a big school for just a few people.
“gojo… sensei” you repeated confused.
“oh you must be utahime-sensei’s student then? from kyoto?” he tilted his head, like a puppy.
“utahime…” you whispered, “is geto here?” you asked with a certain urgency in your voice, “geto suguru.”
“who? geto?” he scratched his head, trying to remember if he heard about a sensei called geto suguru, “i don’t think i—“
“itadori!” megumi called from outside, yuuji saw him die below through the open windows of the second floor he was at, his classmate probably saw him as well.
“ah fushiguro!” he greeted his friend and turned back to you, “i’ll ask megumi, he’s been here for longer than me.”
“who you talking to?!” megumi shouted.
“her!” he pointed, you were in front of him, right by the opened window too, he couldn’t see you?
megumi even moved a bit, “itadori, there’s no one there. stop playing, we got to leave!” megumi scolded him before entering the building.
“eh?” yuuji was frowning.
“sorry, i think i’m in the wrong place” you bowed and turned away running.
“wait!” he ran after you, turning corners he thought you could’ve gone but after a few ones he reached a dead end.
“hm? yuuji?” gojo emerged from a classroom.
“gojo-sensei! there was… someone…” he looked around.
“oi, we’re waiting for you, let’s go” megumi came from where he was, grabbing yuuji by the hood of his uniform and dragging him away.
gojo watched through a window as they walked down the staircase until both boys walked out of the building.
“that was weird” you murmured from inside the classroom he was in, “that boy called you sensei” you put more rice into your hungry mouth, “does yaga know you’re pretending to be a teacher here?”
satoru closed the door, lighting another incense on the table that you used to sit. where every year on the anniversary of your death he built a shrine with food you liked.
“i thought haibara was in a mission but i saw him by the tree” you pointed behind you with your chopsticks, where, outside the classroom and behind the building remained the tree you always had lunch underneath during hot summer days.
he undid the blindfold, letting his hair fall as he sat in front of you, admiring how you never aged a day. after all, you couldn’t.
in fact, it seemed like you didn’t realize how much time has passed. every year you appeared and every year you thought it was still 2006, when you had two kouhais that did everything you asked, a girl best friend that insisted you smoked with her and two boys that were helplessly in love with you. the last year you were alive.
“is suguru not coming?” you asked with your mouth full.
gojo swallowed hard, “no, angel. it’s just us.”
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outer-edges · 9 months
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my roommate asked me to change my music so i turned on the last of us sound track and she listened for like two chords before tipping her head back and going "you're on the spectrum" so empathetically and i just-
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nerdpoe · 5 months
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Alfred is getting up there in age. It's time for him to go see the Ghost King, and uphold his end of their deal.
He tells Bruce that he needs to return to England for a bit, to meet up with some old friends.
Gets the Manor prepared for life without him.
And as he's standing in his room, luggage packed and ready to go, Bruce knocks on the door.
"You don't have any plane tickets purchased," Bruce starts, looking concerned.
"Indeed, I have not."
"There's no correspondence between you or your friends to indicate a visitation."
"I suppose I should have expected your insatiable curiosity would lead to that breach of privacy," Alfred sighs, resting a hand on his luggage.
"...Where are you really going?"
Alfred doesn't answer. Bruce has dug enough, and perhaps he deserves a little confusion.
What Alfred does do is snap a small, glowing crystal. One that looked like Kryptonite, but was not.
A portal opens before him, and before Bruce can reach him, Alfred calmly steps through.
The portal shuts behind him.
He turns to face the Ghost King.
"Ã̵͙̤̚͜r̶͓̓ȇ̵̢͝ ̸̝͂͠ẙ̶̘̳̿o̷͈̎͋̽u̵͈̔ ̸̖͉̔ṛ̸̅̀͆e̸͉̓̂͒a̴̻̓͝d̵̬̉̏̉ỳ̶̬͂̕?̴̼̈́͗̀"
Alfred nods.
The Ghost King's face breaks out into a wide smile.
"I believe I have put together a menu that will satisfy you, My King."
~~~~~~
Two months later sees Alfred being given another crystal, and a portal opened for him back to the Manor.
Alfred steps through, a bounce in his step and not a speck of grey in his hair, looking for all the world like he's twenty again.
Now, how is he going to explain this to the very sleep-deprived looking Master Tim sitting on his bedroom floor, staring at him with unfocused eyes?
Or: Alfred made a deal with the Ghost King when he was twenty and dying in the remains of his ship, just after the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. If he can cook food the King has never tasted before, and keep it up for two months, the King will put forward his case to the God of Time and rewind him to the point in his life three days before he was grievously wounded. Basically, he gets to go back to being a 20 year old. He staves it off for as long as he can, often getting quite elderly, before breaking that crystal and serving two months of full courses to the King of the Dead. He hasn't told anyone this.
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fangirl-dot-com · 8 days
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☕️That's That Me Espresso
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Singer!Reader (fc Sabrina Carpenter) Genre: Fluff/SMAU Summary: Max had been single for the first time in almost 4 years. What do Lando and Charles do? Lightly set him up with a very popular acquaintance. They just hope he likes espresso.
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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There was a different type of electricity in the air that Max was not familiar with. Sure, every race had that adrenalinistic atmosphere that, really, he had gotten numb to. But this, this was different. He might have even gone as far as to call it a “breath of fresh air.” 
His whole body was tired, especially after a grueling race. Why the FIA decided to push the Brazil Grand Prix to the dead middle of summer? He didn’t know why. But he had said enough passive aggressive remarks about the weather. The reason they gave was to avoid the typhoons that normally showed up during the later months of the year, when the usual race was scheduled. 
The Dutchman didn’t mind. The race last year, although the weekend had been soaked, hadn’t even been canceled. Sure there was rain, but they had raced in wetter conditions before. But, he had no control over the schedule. 
If he had been in charge, the calendar would have only 10 races comprised of all historical tracks, no US races, and sprints would be cast into the nearest dumpster. 
But Max Verstappen was not in charge of the Formula 1 calendar, and he was now standing backstage to some concert that Lando and Charles had dragged him and some other drivers to. They explained that it was for their girlfriends, but Lando didn’t have a girlfriend and Max knew he and Charles genuinely liked the pop genre. 
He just never bothered to listen to specific music. He went more by the vibes the song gave, and if he liked it, he liked it. There was no reason to go deep into the discography of the artist and the albums. 
Music was just music to Max. 
Well, that was until the lights dimmed and the most beautiful person, well to Max’s opinion, walked out in almost 6-inch heels and the shortest white skirt. 
Now, Max had been single for almost three months. He had known that Kelly was drifting, but he didn’t make any attempts to draw her back in. The close to four year relationship just fizzled. 
However, he was confused when his friends celebrated the breakup. Lando had gently told him that, while Penelope was very sweet, Kelly had been using him. Charles also brought up the fact that Kelly had said that she had a “magical meeting” with him when he was 19, practically a child with how fast he had to grow up. 
The 9 year age gap pretty much put people on edge about her. 
But Max had no time to dwell on that as he watched the female dance around, pretty skirt flipping up every time she skipped on stage. Her voice echoed through the large speakers, and Max found himself head bobbing to the beat. 
When there was a brief intermission, Lando had snaked his arm around his neck. 
“So how are you liking it?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink after. The Dutchman hadn’t taken his eyes of the door where she had gone through. 
“She’s very pretty.” 
Lando snorted, making Max turn to face his friend. 
“I didn’t ask about her mate, but good to know. I can introduce you to Y/n after the concert is over if you’d like me to.” 
Max’s eyes widened. 
So that’s what your name was. He thought it was very fitting, and he could start to daydream of how the vowels and consonants would sound through his mouth. He wondered if his lisp would accidentally seep through. 
“You would?” 
Lando sighed before calling Charles over. The brunet was quick to round the other side of the two drivers, now taking up Max’s left. 
“Yeah mate?” 
Lando slapped Max on the back, making him wince a bit, muscles still sore. 
“Our race winner here seems to be a bit infatuated with Y/n.” 
Charles wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Is he now? They’d be a nice pair wouldn’t you say Lando?” 
Max tuned the last bit of their conversation out as he watched you prance out of the door you disappeared through earlier. He didn’t know what caused you to look over as you were putting in your in-ears, but you did and your eyes met his. 
You quickly blushed under the gaze of the unfamiliar blond man as your eyes darted back to the ground. You had recognized Lando to his right (your left), but the man remained a mystery to you as you began to sing the second half of your set.
You kneeled on the edge of the stage and reached out for a Brazilian flag that a fan was desperately waving around. You took the soft fabric and wrapped it around your shoulders for the rest of the evening. 
Max thought you looked like an angel. The lights reflected your blond hair perfectly, creating almost a halo around your face. He himself wanted to give your stylists a raise for picking out the perfect hair, makeup, and outfit. 
You had a big smile as you waved to the crowds after your last encore. 
“Brasil! Voce tem sido incrive! Todos voces tem meu coracao! Te amo e boa noite!” 
You even had the voice of an angel. 
And you were now walking toward their group. Max was not prepared. Thankfully Lando and Charles were as they stepped in front Max and congratulated you on the concert. Every now and then in the conversation, your eyes flitted to the blond man, who was looking everywhere but you. 
“Y/n! I don’t believe you’ve met Max yet! Max this is Y/n, and Y/n this is Max Verstappen, current world champion.” 
The last words made Charles huff a bit, only being behind Max in the points this season by a small margin. You put your hand out for a shake but Max just looked at it, stared, then looked back up. 
“You’re very pretty.” 
He wanted to slap himself in the face, but your giggles that flew out of your mouth made him want to melt into the ground. Your hand covered your mouth as you looked up at him. Even with your heals, Max was still a half a foot taller than you. You know that it’d be closer to a full foot without your shoes, which you were desperately wanting to get out of. 
“Thank you. You’re very handsome, but I guess you hear that too often.” 
He actually didn’t. Most didn’t go for his stockier build, rounded features, and flat hair. He knew that many preferred Charles’s slim waist and Lando’s boyish looks. But here you were, looking up at him like he was God’s gift to mankind. Your round doe eyes were hitting all of his buttons. 
He smirked. “Not too many, but I only remember the gorgeous ones.” 
Oh, so he could flirt. That was news to Lando and Charles as they watched the interactions nearby. 
Lando leaned over when Max fished out his phone from his pant leg almost shy at the action. “I didn’t think he had it in him. I wonder if he has ever had the chance to try to date.” 
Charles hummed. “He had a few girlfriends before Kelly. But again, they were all older. Y/n is only 22.” 
When you trailed off to go change, Max walked over to the duo with a dopey smile. 
“I think I’m in love.” 
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y/nl/n has posted
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liked by landonorris, y/nisqueen, mothery/n, and 3,205,094 others y/nl/n brasil! you were amazing! Te amo, te amo! I will miss you all 💚💛🇧🇷
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y/nnation this concert was just chef's kiss!!
y/nisqueen the outfits, the flag, the hair - oh my gosh I love her
f1xy/n did anyone else see that tweet about the f1 drivers in attendance??
norris/n I hope that lando was there, him and y/n would be so cute
maxxy/n I think y/n and max would be so cutie tho
landonorris great show once again y/n!
y/nl/n glad that you and your friends could come see!!
teamy/n your honor I love her
Another giggle left your lips as you were driven back to your hotel. Your manager was watching you with fond eyes, happy to see you all smiley. Your last relationship had not ended well, leaving you heartbroken and depressed. But your emotions fueled you to write your best album yet.
“I’m going to guess that you’re texting you driver,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you sink into the seat, phone covering your face. 
“Maybe. Mila, he’s so perfect. He’s very . . . sweet, but at the same time he’s sharp. He’s a bit like my every morning drink.” 
Mila sent you a warm smile. “Speaking of morning drinks, do you still want your espresso sent to your room at the normal time, or do you want to sleep in?” 
Your brows furrowed, mind running quickly. You opened your notes app and began typing. 
“Espresso.”
A few months passed with you and Max growing closer and closer. People online could definitely tell that the Dutchman was more smiley, but no one knew why. They could only speculate that he was in a relationship, but he hadn’t really been anywhere in the past few months that could signify a blooming relationship. 
You were up writing late when your phone buzzed, the familiar pattern letting you know that a certain blond was calling you. Your eyebrows pinched as you noticed the time. You pressed the green button before saying hello. 
“Hi schatje,” the familiar pet-name flooding the room. 
“Why are you up so late? Don’t you have a race tomorrow morning?” 
Although you were in two different countries, you and Max miraculously were in the same time zones, meaning if you were up late so was he. 
“We have the sim race this weekend.” 
“Maaxxx.” 
“Y/nnnnn, I’ve done it before. And plus, you’re also up.” 
You nibbled on your lip. “I couldn’t sleep. Lyrics are just racing around my brain.” 
“That or you had your espresso too late again.” 
You smirked as your eyes landed on the empty espresso mug on the bedside table. 
“I’m taking the silence as ‘yes Max. I had an espresso too late.’” 
Max’s favorite sound, your laugh, sounded through his phone that was resting on his simulator. The two of you had some weird humor, but you never failed to make Max laugh and neither did he. 
The sound of him shifting the gears was better than any white noise machine could be. Max tried his best to focus on his race, but the scratching of your pencil and your sporadic sighs kept him a bit distracted. 
“Would you be fine if I put a hint in my song? I like having you all to myself, but I want people to know that you make me happy.” 
Max almost virtually crashed. You never ceased to amaze him. 
“That’s fine with me liefling. I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
y/nl/n has posted
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liked by gracieadams, y/nvideo, maxverstappen1, and 3,405,295 others y/nl/n ☕️ espresso is now yours :) let's call it the bop of the summer
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maxxy/n ayo max, why are you here so early 🤨
f1xy/n what the hell is a polar bear doing in Arlington texas
y/n.nation when she says bop of the summer, it's the bop of the summer
maxverstappen1 ☕️
y/nl/n ☕️
queeny/n what the heck is this supposed to mean?????
user204502 this song has been on repeat
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Max hadn’t know when you were going to release the song, he just knew that you were. He hadn’t even realized that it was out to the public until Charles had mentioned something. 
“Y/n’s new song is great, non? Didn’t know that you two were soft launching, but I’m happy for you two.” 
Max never ran faster than he did to get to his driver’s room to listen to it. He never thought that you’d ever write a song about him, but here it was. The title was catchy too. 
Thankfully, you were waiting for him when he got back to Monaco. The first thing he did was lean down to kiss your lips. You could never get over the feeling of his lips against yours. The broadness of his shoulders made you feel safe as he caged you in between himself and the door. 
His large hands fit perfectly against your hips as he brushed his face against your neck. Your hands gripped his shirt that was thankfully not a Red Bull polo. 
“I take it you liked the song?” you managed to get out, breathless against him. A hum vibrated against your neck, letting you know that he was pleased. 
He finally gave you a bit of space once he kissed you on his way back up. 
“Espresso?”
You giggled, head digging into his chest. “I had one almost 15 minutes ago.” 
“Of course you did.” 
There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you just stood in the walkway to his house. The place finally looked like someone was actually living in it, and not looking like an Ikea display. 
Little bits of Max were visible everywhere, now that he didn’t have to hide his stuff away in his little mancave. His suit was now on display with pictures of his various wins decorating the walls. But in between all the racing were bits of you left behind. Pictures of your stages filled in the gaps. 
But Max’s favorite bit was the circle stain of dark espresso by your side of his bed. 
“Come with me to Silverstone and later to Zandvoort.” 
You looked up at him, still not getting over the foot in height difference. Your neck had to crane for you to look him in the eyes. 
“Think about it,” Max continued. “You’re taking a small break from your tours when Silverstone happens. And then Zandvoort is the Sunday before the Netherlands concert.” 
You couldn’t say anything but yes. 
Lando was surprised to see your hand held tightly in Max’s. The last thing he knew is that you and him were texting, but he didn’t know if it went any farther than that. The Briton was happy to learn that you had been behind the Dutchman’s wide smiles between races. 
He thought you looked absolutely tiny next to Max, even in your usual heels. Lando did notice that you weren’t visible in the garage during the practices and even the race on Sunday. When it was him, Max, and Charles on the podium, he took his chances to ask. 
“Where’s your superstar?” 
Max visible brightened at the mention of you. “We’re not public yet. I think we like the privacy a bit too much.” 
Lando looked confused. “But the song?” 
He watched as Max leaned back with a laugh. “Mate, everyone thinks she’s in a relationship with either you or Sebastian of all people.” 
“Why would it be Seb?” Charles piped up, finally joining the conversation. 
“Because she sings something about calling me a honey bee. People are trying to connect that with the racing lyric and Seb’s bee keeping skills.” 
The photographers thought that they were getting good pictures of the three enjoying the post-race celebrations as they caught giant smiles and laughs. They probably couldn’t even imagine the conversation that was going on. 
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It wasn’t until Zandvoort that people started to catch glimpses of you in the paddock. You smiled widely as you stepped through the turnstile, hand clasped in Max’s. Cameras were clicking wildly, but you knew how to ignore them. 
You were here for Max and Max only. 
You had wanted to find something orange to wear, but the weather was a bit rainy and cold. Max had convinced you to wear something warm, much to your chagrin. When you had pouted earlier in the hotel room, he just leaned down and kissed your lips. 
“Hmmmm, espresso. My favorite.” 
You had rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because you were up late again. I was able to get some more work done though.” 
“Must have gotten some from you then.” 
The Red Bull driver was able to secure his home race win, putting him just behind Charles in the standings. The Ferrari driver had been driving like a madman all season, and Max had just now been able to catch up to him. However, you knew how scared he was of losing his champion title. 
But, this year, he had you to be his support. Whether he won or lost, you’d still be there. Unlike Kelly, you didn’t push your way into his life. You let him choose you when he wanted. There was no constant grabbing at his arms to pull him away from his crew. 
When Max finally made his way to you, he just brought you in close. He wouldn’t have been able to kiss you with his helmet on anyway. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see tears in your eyes. His face must have had confusion written all over it as you shook your head. 
“Happy tears. I’m so proud of you.” 
The validation he got from you meant so much more than any he ever received. As Max looked down at you from the top step of the podium, you looked up at him like he hung the sun. The Dutchman would never fall tired of your gaze. 
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y/nl/n has posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, mothery/n, verstopen33, and 4,204,938 others y/nl/n oh, he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger
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mothery/n WAS NOT EXPECTING THE HARD LAUNCH WHAT
f1xy/n thank you y/n for feeding us with boyfriend max material
verstappen33max I don't think I've seen him so smiley
maxverstappen1 💙 schatje
y/nl/n 💗 my love
y/nisqueen awwww I love them your honor
landonorris rue, when was this? 🤨
charles_leclerc me as well 😊
maxverstappen1 I think since February??
landonorris SINCE FEBRUARY???
charles_leclerc congrats!!
y/nl/n thank you charlieeeee
y/nvideo this is now my otp for the rest of my life 🥺
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A week later, it was Max’s turn to stare at you the way that you stared at him. The little pink number that you were wearing was turning Max’s thoughts into something more that just hugs and kisses. But, he put those away (maybe for later) and just continued to enjoy the set that you had chosen. 
He couldn’t believe that he was back in the same place that he had been eight months ago. But, there he was, still as starstruck as he had been. He loved to see you skip around, skirt still flinging around and heels still adorning your feet. 
As the evening was closing, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the hotel to love on you, even more than he had already been doing. He wished time could speed up just a bit because he knew you were it for him. 
There was a before you, a during you, and he never wanted there to be an after you. 
He, along with the rest of the crowd and fellow drivers, got confused when you didn’t leave the stage after the last song. But, as slow piano music left the giant speakers, Max immediately knew what was happening. 
In the past couple of months, you had been holed up in your studio, really only seeing Max whenever he dropped off lunch or when you came back to his house. And many times, he was surprised to see Charles there as well, dressed in comfy clothes and glasses on his face. 
Piano sheet music always covered every inch of studio space when the Monegasque showed up, meaning that you were in the middle of creating a masterpiece. And, Max got to listen to multiple different melodies that the two of you put together. However, he wasn’t allowed to listen to any of the final demos which eventually got turned into songs. 
Tears pricked his eyes when he heard you explain yourself to the crowd. You had turned a bit to face Max as you talked. Your message for him more than the crowd. 
Your smile shined in the bright spotlights. 
“This next song is one that I wrote for a very special person in my life. You all know who it is so I won’t embarrass him.” 
Max could never be embarrassed by you. 
“I call it Lover, because that is what he is to me. My one and only love. Max, my espresso, I love you dearly.” 
And so dearly, he loved you too. 
y/nl/n has posted
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liked by dior, maxverstappen1, y/nfan, and 4,205,893 others y/nl/n a song for my lover? how about an album 💖
lover is now yours on all streaming platforms
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y/nfan I THINK I BEAT MAX TO THE LIKES
y/nfan never mind...
y/n.nation the new song and now new album, max please keep keeping her happy
charles_leclerc glad to be a part of the album y/n!
y/nl/n thank you Charles! merci beaucoup 🫶
maxverstappen1 my lover 💖
y/nl/n my one and only 💙
landonorris ok, when do I get an album??
y/nl/n I can set you up with one of my friends?
ynsmax and we all say "thank you max!"
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?
(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)
I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯
Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent
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★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.
★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.
★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.
★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?
★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.
★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.
★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.
★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something true so you don't question his bullshit.
There's a list of things he's told you!
If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.
There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.
Birds aren't real.
When he was your age he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)
Caine is the tooth fairy.
★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.
★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.
★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.
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witchywitchy · 5 months
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I wanted to share something personal because I don't think a lot of you understand the influence of the West and its atrocities on an Arab child's upbringing. English is not my first language; I learnt it initially due to my interest in the language and Western cultures. However, seeing the true face of the West motivated me to continue learning the language to dismantle the false image of Arabs and Muslims which was portrayed by the West. I also talk about how this impacted my standing with the Palestinian cause. Bear with me as this post is long and a little messy, but I need to try and give everyone a clear and full image as much as I can.
I grew up consuming Western media due to my fascination with the English language. However I noticed the lack of Muslim and Arab representation.
When I started seeing representation later on, it was mostly Arabs and Muslims being depicted as 'terrorists' and 'barbarics'.
When a Muslim woman is depicted, she is depicted as 'oppressed' and in need of 'saving'.
I was on social media starting from a very young age. Seeing people online describe my people as 'terrorists' was not only scary, but also confusing. Why am I as an Arab Muslim child -who's living a normal childhood as everyone else- being labelled as a 'terrorist' by the West? Why are people claiming all Arab and Muslim children are trained to use guns by ISIS or/and Hamas? I remember asking my parents as a kid "Is this a real gun with the police officer?" Because I only saw weapons in movies.
I asked questions such as "Why do they think Arabs = Muslims?" The lack of acknowledgment of Christian and Jewish Arabs and non-Arab Muslims confused me.
Why were Muslim women always 'oppressed' in these movies and TV shows I saw? This is not as common as they make it seem. Why are they using the struggle of some Muslim women to demonize an entire religion? Why are they pretending to be saviours when they're actually contributing to further oppression of Muslim women? Why are they weaponizing the awful struggle of some Muslim women against the vast majority of Muslim women? (White feminism is not saving us. It's actually a form of oppression of Muslim women)
Misrepresentation bothered me and made me angry and disappointed. I couldn't finish watching a movie or an episode of a TV show if I saw any mentions of Muslims or/and Arabs, because I knew what would happen next.
When it comes to the Palestinian cause, every Arab grew up watching endless footage of Palestinians being brutally murdered LIVE. Everything and all the footage all of you are surprised to see during this genocide, were a part of our upbringing.
When I was a kid I stumbled upon a newspaper in the house with a headline about a Palestinian father who returned to his house and found all his children shot. And I remember the image very well. The father was holding a prayer mat with people holding him as he broke down on his knees. His dead children were on the floor next to each other. Seeing this image of children my age murdered by the Israeli occupation shocked me. I remember my parents having to hide the newspaper from me because of the impact this image had on me.
I had to start reading into politics at a young age, and I realized that everything that Western media was trying to portray about the West being 'civilized' was a lie. How can you be civilized if you're a murderer or/and contribute to the murder of the innocent?
When I learnt about the history of imperialism, colonialism, slavery,...etc. growing up, I recognized the pattern that colonialists use and I saw that the colonizers of yesterday, are the same as today, except Western media is doing a great job covering for them nowadays, and a lot of people only started noticing that recently.
The West seemed fascinating to me as a child, but after seeing the horrendous false images that're being portrayed of my people in the West, all of my fascination turned into anger and motivation to fight against it.
The real terrorists in the world are not the brown and bearded men, veiled women, or the innocent children. The real terrorists are the ones who set the stage for the murder of innocent people, the exploitation of their resources, using propaganda and painting an image of the innocent that cannot be more false and racist, and the fascists that put on a 'civilized' mask.
I will forever stand with my Palestinian brothers and sisters. I will forever defend my Arab and Muslim brothers and sisters, and I won't give room to any misrepresentation. Enough is enough.
Edit: I wanted to add that growing up, I was scared of telling people about where I'm from, my religion, and what language I speak due to the microaggression and discrimination I was subjected to. Not to mention the amount of times I saw on the news Arabs or/and Muslims getting killed in Western countries (aka hate crimes).
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yawnderu · 2 months
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ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley
WC: 6,048 | Part I
Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.
His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.
He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.
Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.
“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.
“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.
“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.
“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.
“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.
“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.
“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.
“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.
“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.
“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.
“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.
Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.
“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.
“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.
“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.
“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.
“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.
“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.
“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.
“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.
“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.
“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.
“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.
“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.
“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.
“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.
“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.
“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.
“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.
“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.
Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.
“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.
“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.
He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.
“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.
His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.
“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.
“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.
His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.
John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.
He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.
“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.
“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.
“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.
Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.
He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.
“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.
“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.
“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.
“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.
“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.
As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.
“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.
“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.
The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.
“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.
“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.
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Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.
“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.
“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.
“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.
“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.
“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.
“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.
“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.
“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.
“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.
“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.
“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.
“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.
“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.
“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.
“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.
“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.
“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.
“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.
“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.
“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.
“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.
It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.
“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.
Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.
“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.
“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.
You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.
You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.
“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.
“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.
“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.
“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.
He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.
They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.
“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.
You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.
“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.
“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.
Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.
He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.
“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.
“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.
Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.
You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.
“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.
“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.
“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.
You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.
You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.
Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.
“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.
The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.
They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.
“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.
“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.
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riki-dazed · 3 months
Text
Jay feels it's time to give you and your boyfriend, Riki, the talk.. with the (not so helpful) help of his other fellow hyungs
suggestive, crack, some swearing ♡ wc: 822 · requested
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You and Riki exchange confused looks, he's trying to communicate with you through his eyebrows but you sit there shrugging at him in reply.. You're both just as clueless as one another.
"What's going on..?" You finally decide to speak up cautiously, "Did something happen?"
Jay and Heeseung glance at one another, crickets.
Jake's gaze is set on the ceiling and Sunghoon's next to him, looking over at Jay on the other end.
The four boys are sat lined up on a bunk bed opposite to the one you and Riki are currently sat on.
Jay had pulled you and your boyfriend into one of the dorm rooms without warning, privately, although you were sat there wondering what was private about having Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon there too.
"Nothing bad," Jay finally speaks, "I- We just needed to talk to you about something,"
Riki sighs, "Then talk..?"
It's now Heeseung's turn to speak up, "Last night we heard some.."
He gulps obnoxiously loudly,
"..Some noises, coming from your room and we just wanted to make sure the two of you are being safe,"
You can't help but try to stiffle a chuckle, knowing exactly what they were reffering to. You look over at your boyfriend, he's hiding his face behind his hands.
"I told you to turn the volume down," Riki groans, he's irritated and embarrassed. You can't help but to continue chuckling away.
"She was showing me stupid tiktoks,"
Jake laughs at the situation, knowing he was the one who originally sent you those tiktoks. He apologises swiftly when Jay gives him a look.
"Ok, well- still, you're at that age now where we should talk ab-" Jay tries to continue but is cut off by a distressed Riki,
"Why are they here," He motions towards a smiling Jake and a dead silent Sunghoon, "You may as well have invited the other two since you summoned a council meeting to talk about my sex life,"
You almost snort.
"Babe, this isn't funny,"
"Their intentions are good.." Your voice trails off quietly,
"Why are we here?" Jake suddenly pipes up, his question being mainly directed towards Sunghoon,
"I don't know," The boy next to him shrugs, "I just wanted to listen in,"
"Can we please focus for a second," Jay's borderline irritated voice is heard, "So as I was saying-"
"Wait but Riki told me they already had sex..?"
Your eyes widen at Jake's comment, Sunghoon gasps quietly. You feel your cheeks starting to warm. Riki's gaze is now set on you, he's wondering if you're going to get upset at him for sharing everything with Jake. You didn't care.
Jay's eyes close with a sigh, "Can you two get out,"
"But I didn't say anything," Sunghoon's tone is defensive, yet it only takes one look from Jay for the two boys to quickly hurry out of the dorm room.
"Is it true..? Look, we just want to help," Heeseung speaks softly, you wonder if your cheeks look as bright red as they currently feel.
"It's normal to want to explore at your age," Jay adds, the boy beside him nods in agreement.
You play with your fingers that lay in your lap, Riki coughs beside you. He's running his hands through his hair, the poor boy does not want to be there right now. What seemed like a funny situation a few moments ago has turned into somewhat of a bit more serious conversation now.
"You can always come to us with questions, you know that, right?"
"Thank you, hyung, but are we done here..?" Riki groans,
After a few more minutes of Jay and Heeseung explaining the importance of using protection, Riki successfully manages to push the older boys through the door and out of the dorm room, leaving you a giggling mess on the bed.
"Thank fuck that's over," Your boyfriend sighs as he closes the door, leaning against it when it shuts.
His eyes settle back on you, you motion for him to join you back on the bed. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as the tall boy follows your order, you're still smiling.
"You know, Jay had a good point. It's normal for us to want to explore..."
"Mhm," Riki tackles you softly backwards onto the mattress, "What are you implying?"
Your fingers run through the soft strands of his hair as he attacks your neck with soft bites, and kisses. You can't help but giggle at the tickling sensation.
"Hmh.. Should we continue exploring?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. Riki's hand finds its way under your shirt, smoothing the warm skin above your hips.
"Ni-kiiiiiiiii, are you still in there!?" Jake's excited voice is heard before he leaves a series of loud knocks on the wooden door, "Unlock the door~"
You errupt into quiet laughter as Riki's head falls into the crook of your neck with a muttered 'what the fuck...'
...
Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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strangersatellites · 4 months
Text
frat steve has taken steddie twitter by storm so have this
eddie’s dragging his feet in his boots, humming under his breath while he unsuccessfully flicks the lighter under his cigarette.
every time he finds himself walking down fraternity row he also finds himself wondering how he got here.
not physically- he took a left on 4th and a right on morningside, he knows that.
but in a larger sense.
he’s a junior well on his way to a media and entertainment arts degree who, as a freshman and sophomore spent most of his friday nights at local dives either playing with his band or drinking and shooting the shit with the divorced dads at the pool table.
so when he wonders how he got here, he means how he’s found himself on the way to his third house party this month.
he finally gets his cigarette lit and he stops on the sidewalk to get in a few drags before he heads in. mentally prepares himself for the insufferable music he’ll have to endure for thirty minutes or so before he tunes it out.
he mock-bows at the group of girls that wanders past, giggles and waves sent his way making him laugh to himself.
he drops the butt and stubs it beneath the toe of his boot and takes a breath.
heads toward the house door.
when he gets there he’s met with two guys, freshman surely. letters emblazoned across their cutoff muscle tees and hats turned backwards and perched, very stupidly if eddie shares his piece, atop their heads.
they stop him with a hand up and friendly smiles and mock bravado “three actives,” bro number one states.
eddie barely holds back an incredulous laugh.
“you cannot be serious.”
the boys eye each other, confused and getting frustrated, eddie can tell.
the first bows up a bit.
“dead serious, bro. name three actives.”
and look, eddie may be a showman at the best of times but he really doesn’t want to pull his trump card here. not now.
that would just add insult to injury.
he’s wracking his brain for a way to let them down gently, to get them to step aside and let him through when there’s a loud commotion behind them and then steve is shouldering his way past and onto the front steps.
“eddie!!” he cheers and swings his strong arms up and around his neck. he, unlike tweedle dee and tweedle dum, is just wearing a white t-shirt and his hair, his beautiful, beautiful hair is left untarnished by the blasphemy that is the frat boy snapback.
he wraps an arm low around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple.
“hey, baby,” he smiles, watching the dropped jaws and disbelieving eyes over steve’s shoulder.
steve pulls back and shoves his chest back and he stumbles, laughing.
“dude you were supposed to be here ages ago!”
eddie tugs him back close by his wrists and puts on his best puppy eyes.
“sorry, sweetheart, got caught up at rehearsals. but i’m all yours now.”
steve grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together. spins around and point between eddie and the pledge-bouncers.
“guys, this is eddie! eddie this is jeremy and josh.”
eddie waves, small and a bit sarcastic but steve doesn’t pick up on that. just tugs him past and takes off to find eddie a drink.
eddie gets clapped on the shoulder and high-fived by a couple of steve’s friends as they pass and he yells across the room to eric to save him a seat.
he turns back to the door and still sees bewildered looks, slightly afraid.
he gets it, he does.
in a larger sense at least.
if he were these boys and had just tried to deny entry to the president’s boyfriend he might be a little afraid too.
he swings an arm around each of their shoulders and pulls them close.
“relax, gentlemen. your secret is safe with me.”
they stutter and go to argue but steve is back with two red plastic cups and a bright smile.
“c’mon ed, luke wants to hear about your show since he missed it last week.”
eddie pats both boys on their backs before he takes the drink from steve’s hand and tucks the other in steve’s back pocket.
“later guys. catch up next time, yeah?”
their stunned nods and quiet agreements follow as eddie and steve walk away.
they’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.
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remember-the-fanfics · 4 months
Text
Gen-Z!Overlord!Reader
• Died at 18, been in hell for a few years.
• Came in after Alastor disappeared, just before Vaggie showed up.
• You were never one to follow what everyone else did. Killing, drugs, theft, or porn.
• Kept to yourself for a few months, getting use to being dead and in hell.
• Accidentally became an Overlord after you killed one in self defense.
"In my defense, she was like super creepy and an asshole. A big one."
• The souls were free but you kept your new territory nice so they didn't leave.
• You made jobs and kept the housing in better shape, only made deals to help souls.
• Gave them a job, house, and protection. You give them a limit of a few years of the deal and if they don't mind it, they can renew it.
"Well I don't want to force them to do something, its rude."
• In return, they keep your territory nice, clean, and less violent than most. Work the jobs you made and protect your little town.
• There's been occasions were you trade souls to other overlords, either the soul did something against them or just an asshole.
• The time on the contract would restart
• To every other overlord, you are a child with a knife and to much power.
• You demolished another overlord because they thought you were weak and tried to destroy you territory.
"You ass eatting bitch-"
• You let others fight for new open territory because you're fine with what you have.
• Panicked when you got invited to an Overlord meeting.
• Apparently you had enough power to be one, then you realized you actually were one.
• It was awkward to meet the most of the overlords. Not knowing who you were to begin with.
"This is for overlords only."
"Oh, I'm (Y/n). I got invited."
• Chatted with Rosie before and after it.
• Camilla likes how you run your territory but you seem so young.
• Did apologized afterwards, introducing you to her daughters, apparently you were around the same age.
• Zestial wanted to know how you took over you territory, interested on how you did it.
• You've only meet Velvette because you need some clothes. She recognized you as the up and coming overlord.
• Throwing the clothes you had in your hands away, saying you need to be in the best lastest trend of clothes.
• You were now stuck having a fashion show as she decided what look good on you.
• While not enjoying all the clothes she had you try on, you kept being nice having conversation when she wasn't yelling at everyone else.
• Velvette learned that you were around the same age so she decided that you were acquainted enough to have her number.
• Apparently it wasn't optional for you.
• You brought back way to much clothes for one person, atleast now you have style.
• Chaotic neutral energy
• Charlie meet you after she heard that you improved a part of hell, wasn't expecting someone so young looking.
"Dying just after I turned 18 just means I look young forever."
• Laughing at your own dark humor.
"Ha...ha.
• Charlie did not find it as funny.
• Told you about the hotel idea and you were right on board.
• Thought it was a good way to stick it to the man and help people.
• Vaggie was surprised when Charlie brought back a child.
• More surprised that you're the Overlord that Charlie wanted to meet with.
• Definitely said Vaggie's name wrong for the first time reading it.
• Meeting Angel Dust after he decided to crash at the hotel.
• Not knowing what he was known for but definitely heard his name from someone.
"You're a kind of actor?"
"Of the sorts."
• After you heard what he was famous for.
"Well, he'll do him and I'll do me but never do each other."
• There was an awkward silence of confusion from everyone.
• Having to explain every reference you make.
• Vaggie made jar for everytime you make a dark joke.
• Charlie has asked you why you were in hell. You shrugged, never living a truly bad life but probably just too chaotic for heaven to handle.
• You leave every few days to check back in your little town to make sure everything was running smoothly.
• You know when something happens, feeling the souls you own in a panic.
• Having to let everyone remember why you were in charge a couple of times.
• Either with your words or actions.
• Luckily Rosie just adores your mannerisms and how you don't completely turn away from her with what or who she eats.
"You could say the food was to die for!"
• She finds your dark humor funny.
• So she keeps an eye out for you, sending letters to you every few days.
• You vist her every other week to just chat, she tells you about easy territories that you could get. You say you would rather show up some punks than have more responsibility with more souls.
• Offers food everytime, you say no thanks everytime.
• Rosie would tell you all the tea about the other overlords or her own town.
• Yay! You have an allie with an another overlord by being friends.
• Also with offering truly worse souls sometimes. On a rare occasion.
• Rosie knowing when you offer a soul to her, she would take her time with it. Enjoying every bite.
• Anyway- Sinners would come up to asking for deal when they are completely down on their luck.
• But whats following a couple of rules for free house and job.
• You give them enough warning before you would shake hands then saying you would know if they even thought of fucking your shit up.
• Putting an add for Charlie's hotel in your territory.
• Charlie almost hugged you to death after seeing it.
• When Alastor showed up, the two of you would have a intense staring contest.
• He wasn't expecting another overlord here, oh wait, you're new.
• Alastor not actually taking the hotel serious, pissed you off but he was more powerful.
• Charlie having to keep you and Vaggie from trying to fight him.
"I didn't know there was a new overlord! Charmed to meet you. Whose territory was up for grab?"
"She was a bitch-."
"I know who exactly you speak of, that's good. She never had any manners."
• Watching him summon Husk and Niffty and was shocked.
• Tried it and summoned one of your workers.
• Excited that it worked! Apologetic for interrupting their day.
"Ah ha! It worked! Oh shit it worked! Sorry!"
• You and Niffty vibe on a similar level. Charmingly violent.
• Vaggie has to make sure either of you give the other one a bad idea to do.
• Husk question your age when you went to the bar. Making you do the math.
"Well I died at 18, it's been a few years so old enough."
• Gave you a hard drink which you spit out after tasting.
• You decide hard alcohol wasn't for you.
• Knowing how technology was when you died making you the most technical advance Sinners in the hotel.
-
That's enough for now, just a thought I had when working.
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