#at least not through any faults of their own

[navybrat817]

In a Red Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.

Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.

It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.

“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.

And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”

Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”

Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?

At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.

“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”

You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.

“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”

Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”

“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.

“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”

Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.

“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”

You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”

“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.

“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.

You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”

His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”

You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”

“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”

“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”

Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.

Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.

Right?

Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.

Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.

“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”

His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”

His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.

You loved him, too.

Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”

The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.

Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?

You wouldn't mind either way.

“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”

“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”

“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”

You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.

“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”

The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.

“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”

Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.

You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.

“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.

“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”

Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.

He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”

You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.

His cock made your mind down, but your pussy made him run his mouth.

“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”

“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”

Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.

You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.

“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”

You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.

You could give him one more.

“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”

He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.

The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.

“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.

He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”

“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.

“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.

You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.

He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”

You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #the winter soldier

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (3/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

You don’t cry.

At least, that’s what you like to tell yourself. That you don’t cry, that you’re a big girl. You can reach for the phone yourself, can use the swing-set on your own, can bite your lip and hold your face to stop the tears from spilling over when you scrape your knee. You can handle it.

Because it would trouble Mama if you didn’t, right?

So you never minded playing by yourself, never cared for the fact that it’s hard for you to get along with other kids back in all those other neighbourhoods, never ever felt that you needed to cry.

You have no reason to, after all. You’re happy, satisfied with the way you are, the way that you live.

So— Why?

Why does your face feel wet? Why are there droplets of water on the remainders of your drawing? You don’t remember rain being indoors. Don’t think that Mama would miss out on any leaks when the repairman came over the other day.

So why were you crying as your nose flared out and your eyes turned red? Why do you keep crying even as you furiously tried to wipe them away? Why does the new kid have to get so angry on your behalf? You don’t get it. Why did your only friend have to tear up the drawing you had spent so much time on? What does Satoru have against your neighbour? You really don’t get it. Not at all.

Why? Why why why why why—

You just don’t know many things. You don’t know why the sky looks blue, why the grass is green, don’t know why the moon can’t stay in the sky for as long as you want…

You really don’t know a lot.

But you know that crying doesn’t stop the two kids in front of you from pulling at each other’s hair and punching at each other, know that it won’t stop them from rolling on your floor as they continued to bicker and shout, know it doesn’t heal the fact that your drawing was torn in half and lying pathetically on your living room floor—

“What’s your problem?!”

“It’s none of ya business!”

It hurts. You know it hurts. To have your one and only friend tear apart your hard work, for him to trample on your attempt at being hospitable. And… To have him to look at you with such disdain and hurt when you tried to stop him from vandalizing your show of friendship.

Is it all your fault?

You know that Satoru can be rough, can be hard to get along with. You know that first-hand, experienced it for weeks on end. Though, you never expected him to react with such violent distrust of others, never expected him to get into senseless fights over someone you’re trying to get along with for the sake of good neighbourship.

(If that even was a word, anyway.)

Maybe it was something strange about the new kid— Geto Suguru. Something off, odd that taps at your brain even through your eyes that were starting to blur with tears. It’s not something you can get right off the bat, but hidden under layers that were hard to see through, kept tightly under wraps.

A feeling that resonates too closely, too close to home with your beloved Satoru.

Because they were smiling.

Even as Satoru’s hands pushed, shoved, punched and grabbed at his face, even when Satoru kicked at his chest and pulled at his hair— It’s like they liked being at odds, liked the fact that they could argue and tear into each other despite knowing the repercussions that could follow.

“Y’er ugly! With rotten soba hair!”

“Speak for ya’self, you misshaped snowman!”

Even as the black silks of hair flailed about, even as he feels Satoru pinch at his skin, you can hear the slight laughs in their hoarse voices, can feel the way the air was starting to lift the tension.

You can feel your heart pound, can feel your blood pump through your veins. You don’t want to be left out. Don’t know what’s gotten into you to feel this way as your hands start to shake and tremble.

And when you steeled yourself, wiping the tears off of your cheeks and the drooling leftovers of your snot, your eyes still caught wind of those shiny purple eyes that gleamed with a hint of insanity.

A blur of black and white, the brush of your flailing hair against your nape and the adrenaline causing your heart to go a mile a minute as you feel your feet leave the ground.

You tackled him. Or, one of them, actually. You don’t know which. With the full force of your body, with your eyes that were squeezed shut, with a loud squeal for a battlecry and an exhilarating exhale that made you want to hope you didn’t hit the new mail-order flower pot Mama had gotten as a gift recently.

You feel yourselves rolling about the soft carpet, the brush of the slightly coarse fabric against your skin as you end up slamming face first into your victim’s soft tummy as your ears end up filling with the sound of a rough slam and a pained groan.

But that wasn’t enough to stop you, even if you were fully aware of the fact that you had committed assault. Even as you lift your strangely heavy head and stamp your feet against the ground.

“Stop fighting, dummies!”

And it works, surprisingly. You’ve never used that much force. Not in your few years of living. You didn’t know you were even capable of this.

(But to be fair, you don’t know a lot of things.)

“I hate it!” And you can hear your voice crack, can feel a strange guilt and overwhelming tearing at your already fragile heart. Hate what? Hate the fact that they were fighting?

No. They were having fun, no? So what did you hate? Did you hate the fact that they got along without yo—

And he’s grinning up at you.

“Sorry, (name)-chan.” It’s decisive, the way he looks at you. Like he’s trying to find the best way to go about his next move, trying to fight back the adrenaline that came with the aftermath of a childish fight.

And that makes you cry all the more as you feel arms hug around your neck from behind, an angry, pouting Satoru clutching your head close to his chest and actively trying to tug you off of the bruised Suguru, only managing to get you to tumble your weight off his waist as you continue to cry, your tears drooling down your cheeks and onto his sleeves.

“I didn’t give ya permission to call her by her name!”

“That’s not for you to choose, ya know?” Your neighbour’s speech turns informal, straight to the point. As if he had given up on any airs he had initially put on, as if he was feeling the relief of breathing normally once more.

All whilst you were too busy breaking down.

“Stop cryin’, weirdo.” You feel a sleeve rubbing against your eyes, the soft grey hoodie turning your eyesight dark and gloomy, soaking up your tears as you feel snot starting to trail down your philtrum and onto your lips as you sniffle harder. “We’re fine.”

“Ugh, don’t rub your dirty clothes on her face…” A small whack and the sleeve flops off with no resistance, the fabric loosened from excessive pulling and tugging. You feel an unfamiliar hand press against your hair, lightly stroking in efforts to comfort you.

“Bleghhh! You take it too!” And Satoru’s shoving his sleeve into the new kid’s face.

“Gross!”

Peace is restored. Or, as much as it was when you’re all sat in a circle and trying to figure out what to do now that you all looked a little too worse for wear.

“You don’t have ice packs in your house?” He’s utterly confused as he watches you press a carton of milk against Satoru’s cheek, your head tilting to the side as you blink at him.

“Nope.” Ice packs? Why would you need that? Can’t you just use normal ice? Are you supposed to have something like that? “I can help you get some normal ice if you want—“

“She’s not poor, okay!” It’s your white-haired friend that interrupts you, his arms crossed and an angry pout on his face. It’s threatening and furrowed in all his entirety, chest puffing out to look bigger than he was as he glares at confused purple. “She says so!”

“…I didn’t say anything about that, though?”

“Hnn— I don’t think plasters are enough, (name).”Now he’s even lost the honorifics when calling to you. Suguru’s tapping against his bruised cheek, feet tiptoeing upon the stool in your bathroom as he observes his injuries in the mirror.

“Hey! No one ever taught you manners, new kid?!” And you’re stuck inbetween the both of them again as you stand as the sole barrier between the two. You feel grateful for the fact that you’re all about the same height.

“But you call her that all the time?” Suguru’s smile is all too mischievous, a smug grin on his face and a hand on his hip. He’s starting to get Satoru’s patterns now.

(You can tell.)

“That’s cause I’m me!” He’s huffing, a hand outreached to grip onto your wrist and tugging you closer so that you were physically on ‘his side’.

“Okay,” A curve of those pretty, slitted purple eyes of his upwards. “Satoru.”

“Hey! I didn’t give you permission for that, either!”

Despite all that, you broke out the bandaid collection you had been keeping for emergencies. Okay, to be honest— It wasn’t for emergencies. Chock full of random patterns and funny looking print, it was something you always asked your Mama to get you whenever she needed to make a quick run to the drugstore. Maybe a few of them were a bit too old, but they were still bandaids regardless.

(And least they would be put to their assumed use. You can’t keep everything the same forever, especially when all you do is open your little box to stare at them.)

But it was looking like the bandaids are a no go, either. Was it a you thing to lack so many resources in your own home? Though to be fair, you don’t exactly patch your own injuries up without the help of your Mama.

“Maybe we could go to my house?” He’s still nice to you even when it was your fault that he’s in this situation, even if you were the one that was meant to be the hospitable one.

Though, it’s not a bad idea—

“Nuh uh.” Here comes the stubbornness you learnt to acquaint yourself with. “No way ‘m I going in some weirdo’s house!”

(“But you’re in my house…”)

“But Satoru,” You nudge him slightly as he continues to stick the funny looking bandaids onto the skin of your arm, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to get him patched up by an adult.

You don’t come up with anything. So comes the next best thing; despite the fact it never works more than half the time.

“Please?”

You can see him furrow his brows at you, spiky hair only bristling ever slightly before he sticks another bandaid onto your leg, the usual glimmer in his eyes turning into one of uncertainty before they flash towards an awaiting Suguru with reddening bruises on his cheek.

“Fine!” This doesn’t mean he’s gonna be friendly though.

(“That was unexpectedly easy.”)

So you find yourself picking up the phone, shooing Satoru off the stool and letting him watch as you slowly push it to be just under the wall-mounted phone within your kitchen.

It rings maybe twice after your fingers manage to press the correct buttons, silently mouthing the numbers you memorized just for situations like this as Satoru stares up at you from the ground, sitting cross-legged right next to a curious Suguru.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” Her surroundings are loud. It sounds like there’s too many people talking in the background as you hear the clacks of her shoes.

“Mama.” Your voice is soft as you say her name, a smile unknowingly creeping onto your face when you hear her reply. “Can I go to… Suguru’s house?”

You can see a head of black perk up at that mention of his first name as a pale hand shoves at his shoulder from the corner of your eye.

“The new… Neighbour, right? Geto-san’s kid.” You nod, even with the knowledge of knowing she can’t see you as a shuffle sounds slightly, the rustle of her clothing against skin. “Did you make a new friend?”

Did you? Can you even consider him a friend yet? Do you even have that right? Maybe it was better to say that you did to ease any of her worries. “Mhm. I think Satoru likes him too.”

“Is that so?” You can hear her take a slight breath out, as if it was something akin to relief. “Then it’s fine. I’ll pick you up from there after my work, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Mama!” You balance on your toes when you shove the phone back into place, crawling down from the stool as you feel Satoru’s hand snatch up yours to help you down.

Your Mama is the best-est. Definitely, there’s no arguing about it as you smile a little too much at the prospect of being able to talk to her for just that little while.

“Y’er so goody-goody.” His tone is haughty, his actions not ever matching as he squeezes your palm and his eyes glare at the floor. “It’s weird.”

You don’t see a problem with being good.

“I don’t wanna trouble my Mama.” You don’t want to trouble anyone, really. You know how bad it can feel. “It feels better when she’s not.”

“Hmph.” Ever with that attitude…

So it comes as a surprise when you see his eyes flash with that unfamiliar blue, his small shoulders squaring and feeling him switch to your other side just in time to cut off the route that Suguru’s hand was approaching.

“You can’t hold it.” He’s huffing and glaring, squeezing inbetween the both of you and physically blocking off Suguru’s sight of view, whilst at the same time shoving you behind him.

He’s adamant about this— So it ends with Satoru being stuck in the middle of the three of you as you all take the short walk to the Getos’ next door.

“Your Mama’s gonna be mad.” You say it out of concern for your newly acquired friend, past the head of white between the both of you.

“Yep.” Like he was used to it, sheepishly scratching his cheek as he grins at you. “Are you worried about me, (name)?”

“Mhm. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” It’s genuine. Who even likes pain, anyway?

“You’re so nice, (na—)”

“I hope she spanks ‘im.” It’s said in tandem with Suguru’s sentence, affecting cutting him off as he keeps his head up and his smug attitude even higher.

“I can hear you, ya know?”

“That’s the point, dummy.”

At least they’re getting along better now. The bickering slowly turning into a silence as you all approach the daunting front door. It looked like it was already frowning in disapproval at the three of you, already looking far too scary despite being just that—

A door.

(Even Suguru was starting to squeeze your arm slightly in worry when you began knocking upon the wood. So even he can get scared, huh?)

“Yes! Just a moment, please!” It’s muffled, sounding like it was coming from metres away as you hear the hurried patter of feet, of soft slippers against cypress wood as the door swings open.

“Hi, Geto-san.” You blink up at her in greeting when she finally lets her eyes trail downward upon hearing your voice, an exhale escaping her once she realizes it was just you.

“Oh, hello dear! What brings you— Here?!” Her voice turns hurried, panicked. And in quite the timeframe as well as soon as she spots the various bandaids doing a horrible job at hiding the bruises and reddening marks, the loosened clothing and light scrapes on their knees from roughhousing on your carpet.

(You should ask Mama to invest in a softer one. You’ll help save up.)

You hope you all don’t get into much trouble. Hope. That’s all you can do now as all three of you are frantically ushered inside and pushed into the wide expanse of his very… Full-looking living room.

His house is— Warm. There were boxes stacked everywhere, piled high until some touched the ceiling. You see some of them half-opened, most still fully sealed as you let your eyes wander around.

It smells… Nice in here. You don’t have to try hard to catch a whiff of the orange blossom room freshener being spritzed about, wafting about the room. Though— If you do try… You can catch the subtle scent of cinnamon. It’s barely there when you stick your nose in the air to catch it, before it disappears again.

You swear you’ve smelt it before, though.

“Oiiiii, (nameeeee)!” You see a pale hand wave about in front of you, blinking pairs of blue and purple huddling before you as you dazed off on Suguru’s very, and you mean very, soft couch.

“My mama finished icing our injuries.” He’s waving at you in efforts to get you back once he sees your eyes go back into focus. “She’s gonna scold us after she calls Satoru’s and your mama though.”

Now that’s bad. You physically deflate onto his plush seat. So much for trying to make a good impression like Mama would have wanted you to.

“Don’t sweat it! I barely ever get in trouble, anyway!” Satoru’s now squishing your cheeks in his palms, rubbing his hands into your skin and messing with you to snap you out of your daydreams.

(Lucky him.

“Whattttt? That’s not fair.” Suguru’s the one pouting now as he crosses his arms.

“Huhu!” A triumphant rub of his finger just under his nose. “Can’t get scolded if you’re the great Gojo Satoru!”)

“Okwayyy.” You pat the back of his hands to signal him to let you go as you try to nod despite the fact that he was holding your face.

“Then let’s go! I wanna play in Suguru’s room before Geto-mama gets us!” First name usage already. You don’t even have time to fully process it before he’s bolting up the stairs, too engrossed in his overwhelming want to judge and intrude into spaces he’s never been in.

“What are you thinking about?” It’s Suguru who asks that as you both slowly ascend, making sure you’re safely holding onto the railing as you take it one step at the time.

“I don’t know.” To be honest, you really never get what was your habit of picking up on smells. It wasn’t on purpose. You really didn’t know why you did it.

And that makes him chuckle. Just the slightest bit as he pats your back, hand reaching for your wrist to gently tug you upwards.

“You’ll figure it out.”

It looks like you will be getting a new friend, afterall.

——

You think time is strange, but not as much if you compared it to the weather. From bright, sunny days that always looked like there were too little clouds— To days where the bright orange of the sun had descended from space to spill over onto the leaves of the green trees. You can feel the wind turn chillier, days turning darker—

Autumn is what Mama calls it. As she was in the midst of unpacking your winter clothes that had been stuffed deep inside the closet. She says it’s because those orange and red leaves mean it’s going to be cold, that the trees are preparing for what you learned to be known as winter.

You don’t know if you can consider them ‘pretty’ or ‘cute’. Maybe the best word to describe the autumn you see right now would be… Orange…?

(Time changes the weather and the seasons— But it certainly hasn’t changed your lack of vocabulary, it seems.)

Oh. And it also changes people’s clothes. Time is really powerful, if you think about it.

“Good morning.” He’s smiling, waving at you with a hand and a blushing face bitten from the cold breeze as he steps into your genkan, slightly shivering and his hair completed windswept tussle. “Let’s go play today?” His head tilts to the side, the scarf around his neck shifting with his movement as his smile grows ever sweeter.

Pretty.

“Okay.”

It’s not all of a sudden, really. You’ve gotten used to either of them coming over to your home now. A quick rap at your door for Suguru, a polite ring of your doorbell if it was Kimiko-san, and very incessant drumming against the wood if it was Satoru. And honestly? You don’t mind, not at all. If this is what it’s like to have friends, you think you would want at least 23 more.

(Because that’s the highest you can count up to.)

Your walk together is silent. It’s not uncomfortable by any means, don’t get yourself wrong. If anything, it was a tranquil that was unlike something you have with Satoru, a tangible emotion that makes your heart flutter that tiny bit and your cheeks warm with a little heat when your small fingers brush against each other when walking side by side.

Until they weren’t, that was.

“Satoru’s always holding your hand—“ You can see the slightest blush on his face when he notices your stare at the intertwined fingers, the heat of warmth so similar, yet so different from when you hold your Mama’s. “So I thought I’d try it out since he wasn’t here…”

Right. He was ‘not allowed’ to do this— All due to the ‘Satoru Ban’ as you both dubbed it. It was inclusive of, but not limited to; the smacking of his Suguru’s hands off of your clothes, the banishment of said boy from Satoru’s playground, the prohibiting of Suguru from even looking at you sometimes.

It’s honestly a surprise how he hasn’t stopped being friends with both of you.

Though, today was supposed to be special. It was the day that Suguru was finally allowed to play at the playground for the first time. The day he was finally allowed to view the ‘special playground’ he keeps hearing Satoru brag about whenever he was in earshot, how he has finally ‘earned his right’ to play with the both of you.

(Which you vehemently disliked as you frowned and pouted at your snowy-haired friend, refusing to talk to him and turning your nose up at your beloved friend until he apologized with a blushing face and his eyes cast downwards. To the both of you.

He’s starting to be a little like you, if you think about it. Kimiko-san has been showing an odd amount of gratitude to you too.)

But back to the main point— There’s nothing special about your hand. No matter how often Satoru liked to grab at it for his own. Your gaze flickers down to your free one, palm facing towards you and stretching, wiggling your fingers about, scrutinizing every curve and groove of it.

There’s really nothing special about it. So you take an exhale out in disappointment. Looks like you don’t have some superpowers, after all.

“Do you feel anything?” Honestly, you’re not expecting much. Not anything specific, really… But it would be cool if Suguru told you he can sense the hidden power you’ve been keeping dormant inside your body all this time.

(Cause that’s how powers are discovered. You saw it in an anime last week.)

“Hm…” He squeezes your hand lightly in thought, swinging back and forth in contemplation as he continues to walk with you in tow. You can feel your hand gently being shaken and played with, his fingers tightening around yours as you let him tussle and squeeze and squash his palm against your own.

It’s for the sake of knowing, after all. And to discovering all your hidden potential. Hopefully. Maybe?

You can hear him hum, hear the contemplation in his tone as he closes his eyes for just those few moments. “It feels nice.”

Too nice, even. He kind of gets why Satoru likes grabbing at them so much now when he tightens his grip upon just the feeling of your fingers twitching ever just so slightly.

“…?” It’s a wordless inquisition, one that he gets almost immediately when he lifts his head up to look you in the eye and the shuffling of his scarf around the lower half of his face.

“I like holding your hand.” Wow. That’s more embarrassing to say out loud than he thought. But… It’s nice. To be straightforward like this. It feels raw, genuine. Something he wasn’t used to experiencing.

It feels right.

“Oh.” Your eyes drift off to the side before they slowly trail to the ground as your shoes tap against the concrete— And to your shoes. Velcro is easy to put-on. Mama should buy you more velcro shoes, since your dream of having superpowers to magically tie straps and strings was just crushed.

“So I’m not the chosen one.” How disappointing.

Odd. You are very odd. That’s what Suguru would think, if he hadn’t watched that anime with both you and Satoru last week.

“Maybe your superpower is having nice hands to hold.”

Maybe so.

And time just kept passing. Through autumn with days spent running about in the playground when it wasn’t too cold, playing with the toys in Suguru’s room when it was the weather’s fault you all couldn’t play outside… And lounging around on your futon when there’s nothing to do.

Though, you know those days don’t last forever either. Soon there were the snowy white winter months where you had Satoru calling almost every day at the earliest hours. With the snow growing annoyingly thicker, and the air considerably colder— He wasn’t allowed to be out much at all.

You hear excessive complaining over the phone, as you curl up under your blanket, Mama’s cellphone to your ear and your dozing off self struggling to stay awake to the grumpy squeaks.

Because according to him, it wasn’t fair that Suguru can come and go from your house because he lives right next door, that it wasn’t fair that he can’t play with the both of you.

Such was the curse of the pure white days, you suppose. You spend them waving at Suguru through the window and talking over the phone until Mama needed it back.

And of course, you can’t forget the pollen-filled spring that bloomed pretty flowers that had Geto-mama teaching you how to make flower crowns from her garden— Realizing that it makes your Mama’s sneezes act up a whole lot more; especially when she tries to wear them. An entire season that also brought about Satoru’s growing clinginess when he demands that you allow him to come over everyday, crossed arms and stamping feet and an apologetic Kimiko-san at your door as she tries to offer more snacks as compensation.

(You don’t blame her, you can’t. And at the same time… Mama’s eyes always nearly bulge out of her head whenever she spots another fancy package on the kitchen counter.)

And you learn that days go by all too quickly when you’re having fun, so it wasn’t long until summer was back once more.

Time really is weird. It doesn’t take much to know that. You’re still not really sure if you truly like it.

On the plus side, time brings about age. You realize you’re finally growing up when Mama comes up to you, hands behind her back and all excited sweet smiles and upturned eyes with a the telltale scent of honey as you perk up. You’re happy if she’s happy. So you’re smiling when she presents to you—

A randoseru backpack. Sturdy, heavy, space inside to hold things and has two straps— Definitely a backpack.

“Ya been wearin’ that the wholeeeeeee dayyyyyyyyyyy!” He’s drawling it out hard, all furrowed brows and puffed up face. “Aren’t ya tired???” Gojo Satoru is pouting up at you from his position on your floor as you keep staring at your reflection.

You’re unfazed.

“I think she looks nice.” Suguru’s humming as he nods, a hand under his chin and a smile on his face as he watches you hold onto the straps of your backpack and stare— Almost unblinkingly into your mirror. “It suits you.”

It does, doesn’t it? You’re glad he agrees. Glad he likes it just as much as you do as you keep staring into your reflection with sparkly eyes and jitters in your stomach. This was perfect.

“Mama said it was for—“ What was it again? She taught it to you just this morning. “Eluh… Ment-airy?” Sounds about right.

A blink from the both of them. You’ll admit you aren’t the best at remembering recent things.

“Ya mean school?” Satoru’s got you covered, thankfully. He says he’s so smart cause he gets his own personal teach-er. It must be nice to know so many things. “Pfft,” He flubbers his tongue, his arms and legs outstretching to resemble a floppy starfish as he makes more whines. “School’s bad! Learning’s boring! Just stay home and play with us!”

“I like learning, though.” You do. You’re not the best out there, but at least you like it. That’s what matters.

“Mmm… Is it Akutami Elementary?” It’s slow; the way Suguru pronounces the words. Like he’s careful about not slipping on any of them, like he has committed himself to remembering it.

And you feel your heart fluttering at the name; an odd sense of excitement instilled into you at the recognition, vigorously nodding as you swivel to face him. How did he know?

“Yeah. Mama says I’m going there next spring.”

You can barely help the grin on your face, the happiness making you feel light on your feet and your mind all mushy with joy. Though…

“But I wish you both were there too, though.” And you’re back to staring down at your socks, eyes turning wistful and a frown starting to take over. It would be… Lonely, without them. Maybe you’re just too used to being around them all the time, or maybe you’re just being selfish.

You don’t really know.

“But I’m going there too.“ And he’s smiling right back at you when you’re hurriedly clasping his hand into both of your own, all glittery eyes and excitedly squeezing as you feel the bubble you’ve been keeping inside burst.

“Real— Really? You’ll be there too?” You’re leaning in so close, pushing your face into his own until they were mere inches away from each other as your lip practically trembles in all your stored excitement.

You’re funny. But your hands feel nice on his, so he won’t complain.

You both miss a certain snowy-haired friend, pouting off to the side and finally sitting back up, glaring at the tatami mats of your floor before… He recovers all too quickly with a glimmer in his eyes and a smile on his face.

It’s not like he’s letting the two of you go anywhere without him. That’s banned.

“What elementary did you say it was again?”

previous masterlist next

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

[enwonz]

safe and sound | n.rk

in which a stranger tells you the things you want to hear most.

pairing — academic overachiever reader x stranger ni-ki, hurt/comfort

w/c — 1.4k

tw — reader’s kinda depressed and has terrible self-esteem, mention of throwing self out a window

the ink burns red, red, red.

you’re fighting it, fighting yourself. eyes stinging as everyone around you mills about asking for scores. tests like these are everything, to overachieving students like the ones in your class.

except you, that is.

your friends come over, but their hands on your shoulders are icy even though it’s the middle of april. “how’d you do? it wasn’t as bad as i thought, but you never know with those teachers.”

“you first.” stalling for time, you force your lips into what has to be the most strained smile ever. miracle they don’t see through it. you pray they never will.

your friends rattle off a few scores. not stellar, but good enough. not a disaster, like you-

no, no. you can’t do this here. not now.

subtly you turn your paper over so they can’t see the score, grinning again. “that’s pretty good.” do they get the hint? maybe not, but eventually they move on to find someone else to bother. you thank god for that little mercy they’re giving you, at the very least.

unfair. unfair, unfair, unfair-

the bell rings, and the others start picking up their bags to leave. and if your friends try to drag you to the mall, you shrug and whip out some random worksheet that isn’t even due in the next week. or maybe you don’t. it’s hard to remember when you’re using up any energy you have left trying not to throw yourself out the window.

pretty soon it’s just a few girls left, but it’s not for another twenty minutes that they all leave. and you just sit there, letting the crimson burn into your fingers, your colourless cheeks, your chapped lips. red is shame. red is failure. and you let it stew in your stomach and pray it gets digested before any custodian comes to check on you at the end of the school day when he comes to lock up. god forbid anyone see you like this, the resentment roiling and turning in your gut.

the silence is deafening. blood roars in your ears, even as the school bell chimes and you hear the last of the footballers outside cheer. how the hell is anyone happy at all, and you’re just sitting there withering away in your own self-made prison? you can’t even cry, god knows you don’t even deserve it, because this really is your fault. your fault for being too hesitant, too panicked, while everyone else goes on with you still hanging in the balance grasping for just one chance.

maybe now you’ll never prove yourself. maybe this is it, the final nail in the coffin that destroys everything you’ve ever worked for. three failing grades in the same day. screwed up all your interviews this week. it’s as though you’re cursed to defile everything you touch — damned if you hope, damned if you don’t.

the classroom door must have clicked open, because before you can scramble to your feet to leave, there’s a boy standing in front of your desk. he’s got this weird look in his eyes, all calculating and scrutinising. it’s as though his line of sight is a laser that pierces open everything you try to stuff under your skin. twirling between his fingers is a little key, presumably for the classroom doors. “didn’t expect anyone to be here at this hour.”

you’ve seen him around before. he’s in the class next to you - what was he, their class rep? either way, you can’t quite place his name, but his presence alone is enough to get you on your feet. “s-sorry, i’ll get going now.”

but as you haphazardly shove your things into your backpack, the test paper flutters to the ground in slow motion, landing right as his feet. oh no no no don’t pick it up don’t-

but of course it finds its way into his hands, and you can tell he’s trying not to peek but he sees anyway. that awful, awful 12/25 on your paper. and you avert your gaze as you take it from his grasp, because how could you possibly expect anything but pity from a complete stranger?

and gosh, do you detest pity.

“wait.” before you can run off, his hand wraps around your shoulder, the unexpected warmth stopping you in your tracks. he’s studying you again, trying to read what you imagine must be an impossibly despondent look on your face. it would be rude to shrug him off, and you almost do, until he gestures out the window. “it’s…raining,” he gulps out. and what do you know, it is. just your luck.

you shiver, tightening your grip on the straps of your backpack. “i’ll be fine.”

“at least take my umbrella. i’ll walk you to the gate.”

“…okay.”

so you walk in silence down three floors, each step sending tingles shooting up your previously-numb legs. maybe the boy can tell, because he swaps sides with you so you can grab onto the railing. maybe you wanted the company a little more than you’d like to admit.

as you finally reach where the shelter ends, you look away. “keep your umbrella, i’ll be alright.”

but there’s a strange grimace on his face as he pushes the umbrella into your unclenched hands. “no, you’re not. at least, you won’t be. not unless you keep yourself safe and dry. wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

you can’t help it. the words slip out before you even realise they’re on your tongue. “why do you even care?” oh shit, that came out ruder than you’d intended, and you want to slap your hand over your mouth and apologise a hundred times over, but it’s too late for that now.

the boy pauses, his silence unreadable as he eyes you once again. it’s starting to be a little more than unnerving, the way he sees through barriers you didn’t even know you had up. "because i don’t think you deserve to sit in an empty classroom alone trying not to cry…? you looked awful.”

“...thanks.”

he slaps his palm over his head. “no, not like that. i meant that you looked like your world had come crashing down. it…it hasn’t, okay? you’ll be alright. one step after another, and you’ll get wherever you wanna go. you’re trying as hard as you can and you should be proud of yourself for that.”

how can a complete stranger know exactly what you’ve always wanted to hear? your chest aches with the affirmation of a nameless boy, who’s smiling at you with a softness that makes you want to throw your arms around him and sob, decorum be damned. he’s so good. too good.

at last, you take hold of the umbrella, an inexplicable warmth blossoming in your chest and throat. you can feel the flood of tears you’ve been holding back the whole afternoon threatening to surface, but this time it’s triggered by the gentleness with which he opens the umbrella with a soft click, grinning at you as he gives your shoulder a light squeeze. “go on. don’t worry about returning the umbrella, okay?”

“i’ll see you around, y/n.”

and with that, he sprints off into the pouring rain, the file he’s holding over his head almost comical. the giggle that escapes you startles you out of your stupor, and it’s only then that you realise you’ve been staring, watching him go.

but he’ll be back. maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, but you’ll see him again. and you’ll wait.

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t even think to question why nameless boy knows your name.

with a crash, nishimura riki bursts through the front door, hair dripping water all the way along the corridor.

“riki! you’re making the whole place wet! where’s your umbrella?”

he sighs, shaking off his waterlogged shoes. despite his sister’s constant nagging and the rainwater soaking through his clothes, there’s a giddy smile on his face. “lent it to a friend.”

“...it was a girl, wasn’t it?”

at this point, he doesn’t even care anymore, flopping to the ground as his wet clothes slap against the wooden floors. “you don’t understand, nee-san. she’s the girl. i finally, finally got to talk to her. I’m-”

“GET OFF THE FLOOR ALREADY BISCO’S LICKING UP THE RAINWATER!”

a/n — hi pookies it’s been a while…i’m not built to be an academic weapon lololol. my final exam of the term’s next thursday, so i’ll probably be able to churn out more stuff after that. immediately after i type this im gg to pomodoro my way thru life again send help-

ALSO NO THIS IS NOT A CRY FOR HELP okay goodbye lovelies (@stariikis consider this a thank you for the jw fic)

#enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura riki #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki x you #nishimura riki x y/n #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen fanfic #enhypen drabbles #enhypen angst #enhypen au #enhypen fanfiction

[some-pers0n]

Back on my Peril ramblings again guys

Peril is a character with a lot of polarizing opinions. You've got some people who love her to death, while others who, well, don't. The people who dislike her will go about how she's obsessive. Too clingy and relies far too much on Clay. That or go on about how she's just rude, mean, dangerous, and overall kind of a bad person. I...couldn't disagree more if I'll be blunt.

For starters, Peril is in a difficult situation. She was molded and shaped by her childhood. What she is now is a product of being raised as a living weapon. She was seen as being dangerous and a blight on dragon society. A hazard that, at any moment, could kill somebody. She is danger. She is peril.

Scarlet took hold of that. Scarlet manipulated this tiny dragonet that she stole away from her mother and raised her, feeding her lies in order to keep her docile and dependent. She was never alone. Never to act on her own accord. Anything she did was first of all approved by Scarlet, somebody she trusted and loved in a way. All Peril ever knew was hate and fear, so a dragon showing her any other emotions felt like love.

Peril is...unstable to say the very least. Like I just said, she's got a warped sense of relationships due to her upbringing. She has literally nobody outside the walls of the SkyWing palace. She clings to those she deems as friends and loved ones as she knows nothing else. She craves that feeling of love and especially touch. She has never known the love of a mother's hug. She has never felt the wings of a friend comforting her in a time of crisis. She only wants to be held and loved, but she cannot. She was born wrong. She is unlovable in her eyes. That's what everyone tells her at least.

It's when Clay comes along that things change. For once, she's seeing a dragon who, while still kinda scared of her...is respectful. He holds conversations with her. He's nice, friendly, and when she hears that he tried killing his troop, she immediately relates. It's one of those things that I feel Sick about, where in Clay and Peril both are deemed to be monsters since the moment they hatched when in reality they weren't at fault for anything. Clay and Peril are so good when you actually treat them like characters.

The point is that Peril sees herself in Clay. For the first time ever, she finds a dragon like her. A dragon that at the very least tolerates her. After years of abuse and being shunned and seen as nothing more than a monster, it's basically like Clay is giving her a boquete of roses and confessing his undying love.

She becomes obsessed, even more so when she's eventually free from Scarlet, but that comes later. She holds him to such high regards and views him as a dragon she wants to be around. She's easily jealous when other dragons talk to him. She's protective and constantly wants to be near him. She adores him.

Yada yada, the whole fight scene happens between her and Clay. Scarlet notices that Peril is rather fond of Clay and is using her emotions to manipulate her further. Again, Scarlet is extremely manipulative of Peril. She's the one who molded her into this. She's the one who was responsible for this. She's the one who made Peril feel as though all she could ever be in life was a murder machine, and that Scarlet was doing her a favour by letting that be her existence as opposed to killing her. Scarlet made Peril dependent on her.

So when she's gone...Peril feels lost. She feels like she's the blame for one of the very, very few dragons in her life that at least cared about her being gone. Now she's alone and seen once again as a creep. A weirdo. She doesn't belong here, not in the Sky Kingdom. Osprey is dead (another example of Scarlet toying with Peril's emotions cause the one time she acts out she has to suffer for it) and she's just tossed into the world without warning.

She in turn seeks out Scarlet, eventually finding her. Despite all of the abuse and suffering that Scarlet has put her through, she has nobody else. Scarlet's twisted and distorted love is the only thing she knows. She feels guilty for everything that happened to her.

I think it's easy for people to not really understand Peril if they don't really get her situation. What I lay it out, it sounds pretty easy to understand. Peril is a deeply traumatized and abused character who is shaped by her trauma and struggles to exist in this world as she only knows to kill. She's trying to unlearn all of this. She wants to be better. She's trying to be better.

That's what Escaping Peril is all about: Peril's recovery.

Escaping Peril is the conclusion to Peril's arc, with her coming to grips and terms with her trauma and by the end realizing that she is her own person. Over the course of the book, she struggles a lot. She goes back and forth on her feelings with Scarlet, conflicted on whether she loves her or wants to kill her. Perhaps both at the same time. It's messy and she feels lost and hopeless.

The only real thing that seems to be a beacon of light in her life is Clay, whom is basically not even in this book. Clay is her moral compass here. Anything she does has to be something she believes Clay would approve of. She's doing the exact same thing that she's done for years with Scarlet because, yet again, it's literally the only thing she knows. She is a deeply hurt character who struggles with the whole morality thing because ever since she was a dragonet she's been a child solider. She's trying to unlearn it all.

Which is helped significantly with her friends, namely Turtle. She isn't alone. She has a group of dragons who care for her and like her the way she is. Again, the themes of friendship and togetherness is a very strong one in this arc. The Jade Winglet learn how to be themselves and how they don't need to pretend to be somebody they aren't with a group of dragons who love them for who they are.

Peril...learns. She learns. She grows. I cannot emphasize this enough since some of you guys still don't get that part. Her character shifts and changes and develops over the course of this book. She learns that she doesn't need to depend on somebody for her own actions. Hell, by the end of the book, she burns the scroll of her own volition, knowing fully well that Clay would've hated that. She's acting of her own accord. She learns that she's not a monster and doesn't need to have her flamescales be repressed to be liked.

She's a deeply traumatized character who is trying to get better. She has been getting better, and she will only get better with time. She's happy now. She's happy with her friends and loved ones. Everything will be okay.

#wof #sp-rambles #wings of fire #peril wof #She's also got BPD trust me I'm literally Tui

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

i think you dont quite understand what real feminism strives to do. i think you might be a little confused by the name. real feminists understand that men are harmed by patriarchal expectations, we care for the toxicity men are forced to perform to fit in, we mourn the men who think the only way out is suicide.

we advocate for conversations about subjects taboo between men: testicular cancer, prostate problems, breast cancer. however women cant just forgive and forget the systematic violence that is inflicted on us every day. you cant blame them for being wary. but real feminists do care for you.

i think you dont quite understand what real feminism strives to do

I don't think you've considered how the definition of "real" feminism you have accepted came about, or taken the time to objectively ask why and how it deviates so wildly from all real world feminist activism in practice.

i think you might be a little confused by the name.

I think you might be a little confused about reality.

real feminists understand that men are harmed by patriarchal expectations

Patriarchy, at least in the sense you are using the word, is a feminist construct, and I'm not a feminist, so I don't accept the ideological framework from which you are starting out. Only people indoctrinated by feminism believe that all societies and civilizations around the world are part of a secret worldwide conspiracy set up to benefit all men through the exploitation and oppression of all women. Any person with a working brain and pair of eyes can look around their own life and realize this is not the case, and that there is no historical evidence of any kind of any point in history in which men suddenly "woke up" from the imaginary Matriarchy, like Ken in the Barbie movie, and decided to come together to wage war upon the female of the species.

"Men", as a class are not oppressing or brutalizing "women" as a class, and in fact such behaviour is very rare in any woman's day to day interactions in the western world, so to actually claim that western society, which feminists call a "patriarchy", should best be defined and categorized in this way is delusional and completely at odds with real life.

we care for the toxicity men are forced to perform to fit in

"Toxic Masculinity" is yet another uniquely feminist invention, and a particularly mean-spirited one, in that, as with the concept of "patriarchy", it simply blames "men" for everything bad that happens to any man, and so the only "help" or "care" it offers is to tell men it's collectively all "their" fault. Masculinity is not toxic, any more than femininity is toxic: both are simply names for recognizable traits seen in both sexes across all societies and periods of history.

we mourn the men who think the only way out is suicide.

I've never seen a feminist mourn for men who commit suicide. But I've literally seen hundreds and hundreds of feminists gleefully celebrate any and all men suffering and dying. There are thousands of examples of this on this very website, and, without exception, all of them are carried out exclusively by people identifying as feminist.

This itself should be enough to make you question your starting assumptions about the movement, because other people don't do that: it is only the teachings of feminist propaganda that makes people behave that way. So once again, the claims you are making here run entirely contrary to actual, empirical reality.

we advocate for conversations about subjects taboo between men: testicular cancer, prostate problems, breast cancer.

Feminists do literally nothing to actively help men in any real-world way at all, other than, as stated above, informing them that whatever is happening to them is collectively their own fault, and attempting to emasculate them by making them view and talk about themselves as women, because feminists refuse to accept that many sex differences in behaviour are the result of millions of years of evolution, rather than being "societal constructs". Because of this flaw in their worldview, even the most well-meaning of them are incapable of seeing men as anything but faulty women.

Here's an idea for you: men are around 80% of all suicides: if feminists really did care about this, and were "mourning" every man planning to take his life, they would simply offer to listen to men in need and help out in any way they can, with warmth and love and understanding, and without any ideological framing and indoctrination and victim blaming. Men are 80% of the homeless: If feminists really did care about men, they would organize at head office to go around feeding those men or taking them home and giving them a bath and a bed.

But feminists have never done this and will never do this. Because "feminist" is the word the world has for people who have been rendered incapable of caring for men.

women cant just forgive and forget the systematic violence that is inflicted on us every day.

You mean "systemic", but even so, there is no systemic OR systematic violence being "inflicted" on women every day in any western nation, and it's hysterical nonsense to claim such a thing. Women have more legal rights, privileges and special protections than men in every first world country, so once again the claims you are making here are actually the inverse of any objective appraisal of the facts.

real feminists do care for you.

Real feminists - the ones who teach gender studies classes, write feminist textbooks, organize feminist marches and slutwalks and are active in any meaningful way in the movement - don't care for me at all: they have, instead, been taught to hate and blame me for every real and imagined inconvenience they come across in their lives, even though they may have never met me or spoken to me. This is precisely the same way that the Nazis viewed and spoke about the Jews, and that is why I say feminism is a hate movement.

#nothing so annoying as being lectured on sex by a virgin

[kindlingkeen]

(i'm sorry if this doesn't make sense, it's late, but i just realized a lot of this recently and i needed to put it into words so i hope you don't mind)

i've been thinking recently and while i don't mind fics with lazarus pit madness (or lazarus pit side-effects that basically amount to uncontrollable rage or violent blackouts, etc) if they are written well and the madness is handled in an interesting way, i've recently taken to mostly avoiding them because — well first of all so many of them are about tim, which. sometimes i want to read a jason fic that's actually about jason. anyway,, — i've realized that a lot of the time the "lazarus pit madness" is used to excuse everything jason has done since he was dunked. it's the reason he kills now, it's the reason he cut off those heads, it's the reason he beat tim bloody in titan's tower, etc.

instead of letting jason be a character who has his own morals, different and not what is usually considered "acceptable" as they may be, instead of exploring how they influence how he does things as the red hood, or how his own morals, his unique code affects his relationships with the batfam, he's just sort of… flat? he's made into basically nothing but a walking wall of seething green that's easily triggered and makes his black out with rage and is to blame for every violent thing he does — he is given no responsibility for his actions. and i've found that a lot of these fics end with the pit madness either somehow being done away with or at least being dealt with and then jason is back with his family happily ever after completely exonerated because it's not his fault, he didn't make those decisions, the pit did

i just,,, what about a jason who is aware of his actions? what about a jason who has thought things through and decided what kind of person he was going to make himself into? what about a jason who looked his trainers in the eye and knew he was going to kill them, who makes a plan and follows through, who didn't have to cut off those heads but he had a statement to make and maybe cutting them off was awful and horrible no matter that he decided they deserved to die but he did it because it needed done? and he's fully aware of what he's doing, he is responsible for his actions and any consequences. and he's going to do whatever he's going to do anyway. i think he's a much more interesting character that way

You 🤝 Me. Let’s be best friends. We can start a fan club, the let-Jason-have-his-autonomy club. I’ll be treasurer (fair warning, I plan to blow our budget on Red Hood stickers).

In all seriousness, yes, this, exactly this. I read a ton of these fics when I first got into the fandom, and I still enjoy a good pit madness fic from time to time, but nowadays I tend to want so much more for Jason.

For whatever reason, I think there’s a lot of “fast” fanfiction (as in the idea of “fast fashion”) written about Jason. It leans hard into a popular trope, hits those hurt/comfort vibes with a wrecking ball, and usually ends up absolutely nerfing Jason.

Writing a Jason who’s resolute in his mission and his methods, a Jason who is balanced and believable, is hard. Writing that kind of Jason and getting him to authentically reconcile with the Bats without sacrificing his autonomy is miles past hard. Reading that kind of Jason, staring uncomfortable truths in the face, that can also be hard. It’s not for everyone, and that’s okay (*grumbles unhappily*).

Thanks so much for the ask, anon, and for sharing your thoughts with me. 💙💙💙

#let him be complicated and complex and interesting #he’s so much better that way #jason todd #red hood #batfam thoughts #keen converses

[sage-nebula]

Thinking about how when baby Tails met little Sonic, and Sonic was so nice to and supportive and encouraging of him, and that was the first time in so long that anyone was nice to or actually liked Tails, and so an achievement was unlocked for Sonic: Miles Prower will now die for you.

And then a little while after that, when Tails tells Sonic that he's already got the best family, and that Sonic is his best family, and he loves and cares about Sonic more than anyone else, and so an achievement was unlocked for Tails: Sonic the Hedgehog will now die for you.

These brothers just love each other so much, I cry.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #unbreakable bond #they need(ed) each other SO much #it's part of why I prefer not to write or read about conflict in their relationship #and instead prefer to have the conflict come from outside sources #Sonic and Tails have already both lost so so SO much #they don't need to lose each other too #at least not through any faults of their own #''best friends / brothers are suddenly enemies'' is such a tired boring awful trope #would much rather have it be Them vs The World #but that's just me #this wasn't inspired by anything specific i'm just thinking #(well the thought was bc of the Beyond Oblivion prequel i wrote) #(and how canon Tails was just as desperate for anything remotely resembling positive attention) #(and how canon Sonic gave that to him and that's why Tails latched on) #(but the rest is just musings springboarding off that) #but yeah like see also why I disliked the direction Supernatural seasons 4 & 5 took #why I never felt compelled to read Archie Sonic on top of there just being Too Much (bc I know Sonic & Tails have dumb split-up arcs in it) #etc #it's just not for me #it can be for others! that's fine. everyone has different tastes #but it's not for me #sth

[sanguineserrations]

And everyone wonders why I didn't want the room under my name...

#bg3 #spoilers #astarion #scratch #baldur's gate 3 #Of course it wouldn't have happened if they had any sort of security #It's their own fault really #at least housekeeping removed the bodies #would it kill them to mop once in a while? #You'd think they'd be worried about the floors being stained #Well not my problem #Either I turn into a mind flayer or I leave after all this nonsense is through #...it's fun watching Gale's face when the animals charge through the pools of blood #just never gets old

[gamebunny-advance]

Huh...

Gloomy Graveyard changed a lot more than I thought it would.

That said, let's go over my checklist to see how right/wrong I was:

Hair/Tail Change: Kinda. It definitely changed, but not in the way I thought it would. It's still very sharp, but we did lose the ahoge, and it's still long and flowing, so I'm more right than wrong on this one.

Horns change: Yep. I wasn't expecting quad horns, but they're cool.

Slight palette swap: Kinda. Again, it did change, but not in the direction I thought it would: I thought it would be more purple, not more teal/cyan. The fur did technically get darker since it's a gradient from light to dark now, but I anticipated that with lighter clothing, so I can only give it a half-pass. I appreciate the new pops of color with the roses though.

Change the flower: Kinda. I did predict a color swapped rose, but it wasn't my first choice.

Change the brooch shape: Nope. It got removed entirely, but the cross motif was kept. Ya know, considering how the game "tries" to be non-secular, I'm surprised that all this cross imagery made it through not only the first design, but it is now more prominent in this second pass. That has some weird implications for the Goatlings lore, I'll just put it that way.

Remove chains: Nope. The chains were kept as a motif, they were just moved to the collar rather than wrapped around the legs.

Change the type of hat: Nope. We completely lost the hat.

"I don't see the outfit changing that much": It changed a lot more than I thought it would. We still technically have a lot of the same pieces: we still have a capelet, torn-up translucent fabric, frills, and it still has vaguely Victorian vibes. However, we lost the "gloves," the bouquet, the pants, and most surprisingly, we lost the shovel.

I really thought that no matter how the design changed, the goat would have still been a gravedigger. I mean, the whole theme around pairing Ribbon Mummy with Gloomy Graveyard was Undertaker vs. the Undead, right? But now we've got the Undead vs…. a Necrophiliac and/or Widower? I'm not against it necessarily, I'm sure it's supposed to have Corpse Bride vibes, but I still think that's a pretty bold move. I guess the graveyard motif was more important than the gravedigger part, and the original rose motif just lent itself to more romantic vibes. I dunno, I can only speculate on the thought process that got us here, but it really wasn't the direction I was expecting.

Total score: 3/8

I got a lot of guesses half right, but I basically got just as many totally wrong, so I got a failing score ;3;

Overall, I really like the new one! r00p always does great work for the site, and like most of their designs, this one is gorgeous, but it undeniably has different vibes from the original. Are they better vibes? Maybe. I dunno how to put this in a non-cringe way, but Groom really has that "gothic sad boi" energy that makes some people go wild. I am not some people, but I appreciate him nonetheless. He's filling a niche that we haven't really had since Melancholy Poet and Memento Mori, and I think a lot of people are really gonna vibe with him than not.

#goatlings #now... i just need to decide if what groom has is gonna mix well enough with ribbon mummy to hunt one down for sumairu #because despite the shakeup i think GG is still gonna win #it's just hard to compete against pretty boy types and now that he's even more *that* I don't think RM stands a chance #i feel like i've lost every other MM #but it's through no fault of my own: i do every single event every year i've competed #so i'm doing my part #all i can do is hope the rest of my team pulls through #but i am not confident this year #anyway enough bellyaching #i've still gotta redo my GG stuff anyway lest i come off as petty #i do wonder if team GG is gonna have to redo any of their stuff if they used the old design in their work #someone was asking in the help boards but i honestly have no idea #it would really suck for them if they did and even i think it's a little unfair to them if they did the work before the event was pulled #but since this was a matter of copyright issues they might have to reject works with the old design to avoid litigation #at least if they used the 'official' art like my stamps did #but this remains to be seen #we haven't been asked to take down works featuring the old art so maybe not?

[loverlylight]

Also, my fave episode will always be The Rashomon Job with my second favorite being the Tap Out Job because as great as the OT3 is I still love Eliot/Sophie more.

...at least more than the OT3, I don't know if I love it more than Hardison/Parker because they are just so incredibly good together.

#my mind is an odd place #look I have come around on the OT3 but it took me a while to be okay with the Eliot/Parker side of it #not through any fault of their own! but I remember when the first season was airing I was trying to find Hardison/Parker stuff #and at that time Eliot/Parker was more popular and some of the fans would bash Hardison/Parker and sometimes in ways that felt pretty racist #so the fandom has long since moved past that and I doubt those kinda people remained fans (at least I hope they didn't) #but it still took me a while to warm up to that so for the longest time I was basically in the Hardison Has Two Hands phase #i dunno this is very pointless babbling but yeah Eliot/Sophie is amazing and sadly overlooked

[certifiedwerewolf]

As I slog my way through season twelve I am finding that I Do Not Like Mary Winchester As A Person, and this is a problem because I am writing a fic wherein John Winchester is a nuanced and complex person and not a card-carrying mustache-twirling evil villain and quite apart from character demonization not being particularly interesting anyway, I do not think having a Mary who doesn't much like her kids and kind of wishes she'd never had them would make the vibe of the fic hit the way I want it to

#i'm being careful with her characterization i'm just having to use different muscles with her #because the META of mary is interesting at least #she was pulled back from the grave as a gift for a son who she last saw when he was four years old #her sons are grown men who lived their lives as hunters #her apple pie life ended and it was her fault #john her gentle and adoring husband became a hunter to avenge her #and put her kids through hell as a result #their kids #and on top of that we also learn that she never stopped hunting #she was still hunting even after she had dean #maybe after she had sam #maybe she was hunting all the way to the end of her life #behind her family's back behind /john's/ back #what if she'd told him the truth #would things be different then #what if he hadn't needed to search for those answers #and all of that is interesting on its own but even moreso when juxtaposed with the mary who has been haunting the narrative #the mary who gave up hunting for her apple pie life so she could raise her boys to be normal #because she never wanted any of this #it's interesting!!! it has so much potential!! #mary herself is just So Very Annoying to me #she shares a lot of her interests with dean but when it comes to nature #she's far more like the careful and calculating sam #the one who measures risks and is willing to do the dreadful algebra #and again: all interesting characterization #but also very ANNOYING characterization #anyway point is i'm working on it but it does get frustrating #probably gonna send her off on the road once everything in the fic settles down so i don't have to write her more than occasionally

[flangore]

❥ scarlet plumes

feat.: Valentino/f!reader

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, drugging, rough sex, choking, punishments, manipulation, Valentino is his own warning

You were not the type to get into trouble.

Being confrontational, at least attempting to have things go your way through protests and complaints, had never seemed worth it; not when the one you were up against was Valentino, who always got what he wanted in the end, one way or another.

All too often, you had seen the way he punished disobedient whores; all too often, you had watched the way they were still limping days after, bruises blooming on skin if they had been lucky, bullet wounds trying to heal, oozing blood, if they had been less so.

There was no reason to willingly go through the struggle of disobeying when simply giving in, caving to Val's wishes and orders, was so much easier.

When Valentino told you to bend over, you did so readily, spreading your thighs apart in offering; when Valentino ordered you down onto your knees, you went obediently, lips dropping open, praying he wasn't in a bad mood, unpredictable as his sudden bursts of anger often made him.

You were not the type to get into trouble, and yet you currently found yourself on the floor, crumpled in front of Valentino's boots, cheek warm and stinging.

“Now, why don't you tell me what happened, baby?” His tone was a low coo, almost gentle enough to soothe your sobs. “You've never acted out like this before. What happened to my well-behaved girl, hm?”

In your defense, it really hadn't been your fault — you hadn't meant to do it.

Your night shift had been supposed to be a simple session for a well-known client, consisting of some lap dancing and a blow job; that was what he had paid for, at least. Your surprise when he had begun ripping your skimpy panties off you, forcing your legs apart, hands greedy, mouth drooling, high on some drug, was therefore understandable in your eyes; as was the way you, in your shock, had lashed out, claws scratching at his chest in order to push him off you. A split second later, the side of your face had ached with pain, his flat palm having met your cheek before he had stormed out of the room, screaming and spitting.

Valentino had been with you after barely any time at all.

“I didn't—”, you choked out, voice trembling, “I didn't mean to do it, sir, I swear, he just startled me, and, I mean, he didn't pay for more, he wanted to —, he wanted to—”

One hand of his cupped your cheek, golden claw gently tracing over your jaw. Even with him crouched down in front of you, he seemed ridiculously tall. “Hey—, relax, sweetheart.” At an exhale, red smoke coiled around you, assaulting your senses. Instinctively, your raised shoulders fell as tension bled from your muscles. “I get it. I understand.”

With how utterly merciless Valentino was known to be, it took a few moments for you to actually understand the meaning of his words. Even then, you barely dared to let go of the dreadful fear curled in your stomach. “You do?”

“Of course I do”, he said, eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. His voice was soft enough to cause more tears, now of relief, to drip down your cheeks. “You know, I was really surprised when that patron came up to me, demanding to have you fired, if not killed for your disobedience. You're usually such an obedient girl — I was wondering what actually happened. Good job for being honest with me.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, your eyes widening. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow, black and colourful, ran down your wet cheeks. “So you're not upset with me?”

“Upset with you? Of course not, amorcito. You were scared, that's alright. It happens, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitched in a stifled sob, lips, the gloss now smudged, curling up into a pitiful mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Val.”

This could have gone much worse. Your hands were still shaking, anxiety thrumming underneath your skin, and yet Valentino didn't even seem particularly upset. Some higher being — whether that was Lucifer or God, you didn't really care — must have blessed you, somehow.

“Of course, baby.” The moment Valentino stood once more, he towered over you, his shadow swallowing you up. “Now, follow me, yeah?”

Your legs struggled to support your weight, knees feeling weak as you trailed behind him through corridors you didn't recognise. Your steps were unsure, the heels, ridiculously high, only adding to your troubles. You have half a mind to stop yourself from asking where you're going.

It's entirely unnecessary, either way.

You arrive but a moment later, the noise of a heavy door falling shut causing you to flinch; where Valentino was in front of you just a second ago, he was now behind you, a looming presence at your back.

It was a studio; not the fancy kind actual stars like Angel Dust filmed in, but a smaller one, the light bulb flickering, the sheets on the bed stained. Voxtech cameras were pointed at the mattress.

“Val—?”

“Bend over, baby.”

“You said you're not angry with me.” The words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission, a panicked high-pitched tone. “You said you're not—”

“And I'm not, as long as you hurry the fuck up and do what I tell you to.” His voice was sharp. Instinctively, you obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed, nausea churning in your stomach. “See, that guy you were a bitch to was a regular. Good money. I gotta show him you're sorry, sweetheart. You understand that, right?”

For a moment, you didn't get a word out, throat tight as tears spilled past your lashes. Eventually, you managed a shaky; “Yes, Valentino.”

“There we go. Knew you'd get why I have to do this.”

Large hands settled on your thighs, the touch making you flinch; his claws, all too sharp, teased at your skin, leaving faint scratch marks, before they prodded at your folds.

This, by now, should have been routine. It was; and yet, the idea of this being a punishment had you tensing, muscles locking up while Valentino thrust one claw into you, only to grunt, irritated.

“Ungrateful bitch”, he spat, one hand settling on your lower back, pinning you to the bed while another fumbled with his belt, metal clinking. “That's what I get for tryin' to be nice and preparing you — tightest cunt I've ever seen. Loosen the fuck up or deal with it.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice shook, though the threat of violence, of pain, didn't help with relaxing in the slightest. Instead, you instinctively clenched around the digit, only to whimper when he yanked it back out.

“Sure doesn't seem like it.”

The fat head of his cock, pierced, the metal cold, pressed against you, then pushed inside; you were unable to stop yourself from letting out a pitiful noise, sounding more like a wounded animal than a practiced porn star.

Valentino didn't seem to mind it one bit.

Your vision blackened out for a moment when he bottomed out inside of you, the pain agonising. For a moment, you were certain he was tearing you from the inside out. His hips slapped against your plush ones, building up a steady rhythm; one set of his hands grabbed onto your hips, claws digging into your skin, using his grip for leverage to pull you back against him

“Some wetness would help us out here, y'know”, Valentino mumbled, complaining, bitching, like this was your fault. It probably was.

The only response you were able to come up with was a choked out sob, a dull ache steadily present in your abdomen, only interrupted by sharp stabbing pain whenever Valentino's tip hit an impossibly deep spot inside of you.

This couldn't have possibly gotten worse — or so you thought, tears dripping down your face, your claws ripping the sheets as you scrambled for purchase, only for it to get so much more agonising when, all of a sudden, his hand closed around your throat, squeezing.

You weren't able to breathe.

Instinctively, you clenched around him, thighs shaking. If he wasn't still holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight.” Valentino groaned, low and raspy. His tongue lapped at your neck, leaving trails of pink saliva to drip down your shoulders, your chest. “We could've had such a pleasant time together, baby, if only you hadn't been such a disobedient slut. Hate that you're making me do this.”

His pace was unforgiving, the metal of his belt buckle hitting your hip with every other thrust, surely leaving bruises. Not that it mattered — Valentino did provide you with full coverage makeup, after all.

Out of the corner of your eye, you focused on the red dots of the many cameras, blinking, recording. By now, numbness spread through you, a small blessing. You weren't certain just how long it went on; only that, eventually, Valentino came with a groan, filling you up, making you whimper.

When his grip on your throat loosened for a split second, allowing you to suck a burning breath into your lungs, it felt like Heaven.

“Use your words, baby. Talk to me.”

“Val, 'm sorry—”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, the words barely audible through sobs, “I'm sorry, Val, I'm sorry—”

Suddenly, his hand, still on your throat, yanked your head up, his lips clashing against yours; the very moment you opened your mouth, pliant with submission, with exhaustion, smoke flooded it, you choking on it.

Your mind felt muddled, mouth dry even as saliva trickled out of your lips, jaw slack.

Faintly, you were able to feel his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, sticky.

“Now”, Valentino said, voice a sultry purr, “Why don't you wait here, I'll send you your client and you apologise properly to him?”

Mind filled with scarlet plumes, you barely knew what you were agreeing to, nodding mindlessly. “Yes, Valentino.”

“That's what I like to hear. Good girl.”

When multiple pairs of footsteps echoed through the room, you, even in your hazy state, had the bad feeling that you were going to be having a long night.

i won't lie i didn't proofread this yet.. tomorrow... ALSO FIRST POST YIPPEEE

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Hazbin Hotel Valentino #Valentino x reader #Valentino smut #Hazbin Hotel x reader #Hazbin Hotel smut #valentino hazbin hotel #Hazbin Valentino x reader #Hazbin Valentino smut #Hazbin Hotel x you #Hazbin hotel imagines #Hazbin Hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel headcanon #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin x you #Hazbin x y/n #Hazbin smut #Hazbin fanfic #Hazbin imagines #Hazbin imagine #tw.noncon #tw.abuse #tw.manipulation #tw.violence #tw.drugging #tw.choking #❥ my writing #❥ valentino

[astonmartinii]

big reputation | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader

they may have a big reputation and they may be end game, but sometimes you need a push from your girlfriend to enter your reputation era

(also no hate to vasseur and sainz, it's just the way the fic had to go)

MASTERLIST | TIPS

f1newsandgossip

liked by user1, user2 and 13,209 others

f1newsandgossip: after ferrari's continued chaos and inability to get anything right it seems, do you think charles leclerc will stick around and renew his contract?

view all comments

user3: i love him and i love ferrari but if he wants any shot of winning a championship he has to leave

user4: i would die to see him at red bull or even mercedes

user5: would he want to be a second driver though?

user4: babes they treat him like he's the second driver at ferrari at least there he'd have a competent car and team

user6: yes ! he has to leave, no one at that team respects him anymore

user7: he should've left a long time ago but this season has to be the final nail in the coffin

user8: all he does it protect ferrari and ferrari don't even give a shit about him it's actually sad

user9: they don't even protect him from his teammate and his teammate's parents being rude about him in the media

user10: for real the man needs to stop being a team player and tell him how it is

user11: i feel so so bad for him because his childhood dream is turning into a nightmare and through no fault of his own

user12: i know y/n is absolutely seething and the only reason she hasn't said anything yet is because charles is so in love with the team that he won't say anything bad about them

user13: i need her to give him a lil slap around to get his head in gear

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,309,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: you and me got a big reputation

view all comments

user14: me being delusional: OMG THIS MEANS CHARLES IS FINALLY ENTERING HIS REPUTATION ERA

user15: and then we remember rep is an album about love first and revenge second :(

charles_leclerc: is this a taylor swift reference?

yourusername: yes it is !! i knew you were actually listening when i gave you the full eras breakdown

charles_leclerc: i'd listen to you talk about anything

yourusername: even the things you don't want to hear?

charles_leclerc: i think it has gotten to that point, yes.

user16: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ^^ ???

alexalbon: when will i be freed from the shackles of having to take cute photos of you two

yourusername: NEVER

charles_leclerc: is a seat on my jet not enough?

alexalbon: YOUR JET? i have clearly missed something here

maxverstappen1: alex is always free to fly air max (MY jet, factually)

yourusername: when did this become a dick measuring contest? (charles would win, you can all go home)

maxverstappen1: i don't want you to see my dick

charles_leclerc: i should think not verstappen

alexalbon: i don't know how i hang out with you morons

user17: gosh y/n is so sexy

user18: i am allowing myself to live in delusion and after the shitshow that was austin, y/n is initiating the reputation era and charles will either give ferrari hell or actually leave

user19: idk that man might be completely in love with y/n but he's even more in love with ferrari

charles_leclerc: nothing compares to her

user20: WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?

charles_leclerc

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,204,509 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: hola mexico! can't wait for the weekend to start

view all comments

user22: post your team or car? no. post a random picture of your girlfriend? yes.

user23: he should post an explanation as to why his gf was being wined and dined by christian horner

yourusername: ZOOWEE MAMA

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

yourusername: instagram would ban me if i really said what i think

charles_leclerc: oh i'm blushing

yourusername: but always above all you are a cutie patootie

user24: i see posts like this and i wonder why do they always have break up rumours if they are this in love?

user19: bestie we simply cannot be believing everything we read, especially when it comes from a certain spanish paper

liked by yourusername

user24: wait what is this supposed to mean?

user19: any "insider source" at ferrari that has anti-leclerc info is usually the sainz family lol that's why other than ferrari being clowns in general charles needs to get the fuck out

pierregasly: rivalling me with just how much you post y/n

charles_leclerc: ummmm you've met her, and you wouldn't?

charles_leclerc: WAIT don't answer that

user25: so are we just ignoring that y/n was at dinner with CHRISTIAN HORNER?

user26: the red bull!charles dream a bit more feasible now and i am appropriately feral

user27: obsessed with how he's just ignoring the horner thing

user28: i am similarly obsessed with how the media are spinning this to an affair between y/n and horner LMAO

yourusername: he made us split the bill after ordering a really spenny wine :/

user29: I'M CRYING

user30: horner's like if i don't get a driver out of this dinner i will be having a nice glass of wine he's so real for that

scuderiaferrari: let's get it 💪

user31: GET A JOB. LEAVE HER ALONE

liked by yourusername

user32: lol she's so tired of being subtle

user33: TELL THEM SIS

f1

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 1,450,667 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1: BREAKING: charles leclerc signs for red bull racing for 2024 on a four year contract

view all comments

user36: they're MUGGY for the first picture omg

user37: SOMEONE CALL THE EMERGENCY SERVICES FOR ME I CAN'T BREATHE

user38: wait so like who do i have to thank for finally making this happen?

user39: this has y/n y/ln written all over it - the dinner with horner finally makes sense

pierregasly: WHAT ?????????

user40: HE'S FINDING OUT AT THE SAME TIME AS US? DID ANYONE KNOW?

user41: THERE WILL BE NO EXPLANATION JUST REPUTATION

liked by yourusername

user42: okay since y/n and charles have referenced the reputation album so much during this whole fiasco .... taylor swift x charles leclerc piano ballad collab when?

user43: so this is il predestinato who has betrayed his team and completely blindsided him? this is why carlos has always been the superior driver

liked by carlossainz55

user44: not carlos liking this comment

yourusername: i wish he would say something with his chest, always hiding behind his parents and the spanish media ... yeah we know about that and we're no longer under that stupid contract so i can and will say this all to your face

user45: HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTT

carlossainz55: you got the move and attention you wanted stop trying to drag me into it

yourusername: babe there's a difference between you and i, you create fake cheating rumours to try and shake your teammate while your PR team is fulltime constantly having to threaten legal action over you not being able to keep it in your pants

user46: ERM QUEEN THEY STILL HAVE RACES TOGETHER

redbullracing: anyways.... WELCOME TO THE TEAM CHARLES

user47: admin what is going on?

redbullracing: i have no clue but as soon as that man is in a navy race suit i will get the tea trust

user48: so real of you

maxverstappen1: ☕️

user49: LMAO KING

yourusername: i have a feeling we might get on (no more inchidents though)

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 1,344,099 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: they said i did something bad, why does it feel so good?

view all comments

user51: momma does not play oh my

taylorswift: proud 🖤 🐍

yourusername: approved by our lord and saviour, thanks mother

charles_leclerc: do you need a pianist?

taylorswift: i'm sure we can work something out

landonorris: ^^ this is so unfair i thought i was the swiftie on the grid :(

danielricciardo: my rendition of our song says otherwise

user52: she really said FUCK FERRARI AND FUCK YOU TOO

user53: as she should

charles_leclerc: i'm not a playboy but i do LOVE YOU

yourusername: i love you even more

charles_leclerc: NUH UH I LOVE YOU MORE

yourusername: i would literally fight every person on earth for your hand

charles_leclerc: oh wow ... mark me scared AND horny

alexalbon: okay that's ENOUGH

user54: i'm so glad she shook him out of the ferrari daze he. might finally have a chance at the championship now

user55: i'd be afraid that ferrari may build a good car next year but then i remember it's ferrari LOL

user56: so y/n mentioned under the f1 post about a contract? was she not able to say anything about ferrari while with charles?

yourusername: yes. i was not able to say anything they considered negative. many times when i expressed disappointment in how charlie has been treated i was reprimanded by ferrari and was banned from the paddock for weekends following any statements

user57: wtf that is crazy ??? makes sense as to why charles always blames himself when it was clearly a pit/strategy issue

yourusername: ferrari have attempted to keep charlie under wraps since his second season at the team. they were worried about him becoming outspoken like seb. this goes all the way down to his music which they tried to prevent him from releasing. i'm glad he'll be given the chance to show his talents next season

user58: thank the lord charles finally left. this is insane. the reputation era was well and truly needed.

maxverstappen1: kelly wants to know whether now you'll be wag teammates that you can raid each other's wardrobes?

yourusername: of course !!! i can't wait to see her more often coffee dates are a must ( + p of course)

charles_leclerc: i'm gonna beat your ass at padel i WILL be the padel king at red bull

maxverstappen1: i will show NO MERCY

yourusername: maybe this was a bad idea ...

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,332,909 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: it saddens me to my core to be leaving the team i always dreamed of racing for and winning with, but there comes a point in your career when it's time to put your ambitions above tradition. ferrari has always been the dream for me, but the last couple of years have been a nightmare. i never thought i'd be put in a position where i'd have feelings like these about the team i love, but the constant disrespect, betrayal and the treatment of my loved ones leaves me no other choice. despite this sad ending, i am looking forward to new opportunities at red bull, racing alongside an old friend and under a competent leadership. finally, thank you to y/n and my family for being there for me during this time despite the way we were all treated. i know i will get questions, but there will be no explanation, just reputation.

view all comments

user59: he really left comments open so we could drag ferrari

user60: and drag i shall do... that man despite the absolute tomfoolery got that shitbox on the podium and NONE OF YOU SHOWED UP

user61: for real, they're out here trying to show charles as petty but then KEEP PROVING HIS POINT LOL

yourusername: i am so unbelievably proud of you. i know this was a hard choice but it's the one you had to make. today and every other day i will always be there to support you even if no one else is

user62: subtle DRAG

charles_leclerc: i love you to the moon and to saturn

yourusername: you're my invisible string

yourusername: also this is what i mean when i say reputation is a love story with a side of shade

user63: i know binotto let out a sigh of relief that he dodged this shit storm

yourusername: that fraud is SO lucky i was under contract while he was there otherwise i'd drag his ass so bad he'd be bald

charles_leclerc: i don't know how he made it out of silverstone alive after the whole finger wagging saga, i had to hold her back

sebastianvettel: i hate to say i told you so .....

charles_leclerc: SEB ????? BUT I'M DOING IT NOW, I'M NOT WASTING IT (tell christian to give me the better strategies i know you're still the o.g golden boy)

maxverstappen1: you know i can see this right?

christianhorner: and me?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername baby please take the fall for me

yourusername: I COMMENTED THAT

maxverstappen1: you guys really aren't slick... you're lucky i already love you two

christianhorner: i feel like i need to brief PR already

yourusername: if it makes it any better i'm a great baker and very generous

redbullracing: WE'LL TAKE IT

user64: @netflix make sure there's a camera in that garage at ALL TIMES

pierregasly: proud of you calmar, i hope this works out better for you than it did for me

yourusername: NO ROOM FOR PITY PARTY HERE SIR

yourusername: wait that was rude, we love you pierre

charles_leclerc: thank you pierre

pierregasly: ummmmmm tell y/n she can't say that ???

charles_leclerc: she made me see the light kinda owe her everything rn, so sorry?

christianhorner: definitely brief PR

note: teehee here it is. MY GOD my writing block has been insane - i also went on a trip to london and got horrendously drunk and made AWFUL decisions. alas, i hope you guys enjoy this and the race later !!

EDIT: I AM SO FUCKING ANNOYED AT THIS RACE ONE DAY WHERE CHARLES IS NOT FUVKED OVER IS ALL I ASK WHAT DID HE DO TO DESERVE THIS

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

#cod mw2 fic #captain john price #gaz call of duty #soap call of duty #ghost call of duty #captain price #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #John price #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley angst #ghost x gn reader #ghost x you #ghost angst #ghost x reader #ghost cod #141!reader #141 x reader #task force 141

[talkdutchtome]

"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )

word count . . . 2800 words )

a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )

Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  

You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  

In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  

Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  

So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  

“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  

“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  

“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  

To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  

“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  

“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  

“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   

“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  

As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  

“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  

“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  

But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  

You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 

Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  

“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 

You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 

“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 

The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  

“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  

“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 

“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  

You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  

“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  

“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 

Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 

“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 

“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 

Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  

“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  

“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  

“Fuck really?” 

“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 

“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 

The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 

“I love you so much Y/N” 

He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  

Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 

“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x oc #f1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 smut

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are pleading now, already worried.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

#these are all wildly different lengths my b #jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction