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drakenology · 3 years

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Bully!Dabi laughing and making fun about a school girl big tiddies😳 it's as if the buttons on your uniform blouse are going to explode at any moment, and Dabi love make you feel bad about it

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈

“baby, can you meet me tonight in detention?”

MDNI

tw: non-con (yeah ik crazy right? i’m taking that out of my rules so feel free to request now.) , bullying, third year aged, mean!dabi, creep!dabi?, boobjob, cumplay, degradation, raw sex and public sex

A/N: hi hiii, this is a lovely request that I literally started writing as soon as I got it. Thank you nonnie for sending this in and as always enjoy!

You tried to keep them hidden whenever you saw him walking through the halls with his asshole entourage. But oversized sweaters, hoodies and cardigans never did the trick. Dabi always ended up seeing them, practically bursting through your school blouse after an administrator would yell at you to get into proper uniform. He was ruthless, grabbing your shirt and popping it open by the buttons to expose your large breasts. He’d laugh at you as you go to cover yourself up with the remnants of your blouse, poking and prodding at the exposed skin of your breasts. He’d pinch your cheeks as you become flustered, smirking and leaning in close to you.

“What? They were gonna come out anyways. Stupid tits were practically opening your shirt for you. Thought I’d give ‘em a hand.” He mocked, squeezing your breasts as he pinned you to a nearby locker. You snatch away from him and run away to the bathroom to fix your blouse, tears stinging in your eyes from the embarrassment of it all. The rest of your day was full of shame as everyone stared at your ripped blouse, administration granting you detention for violating dress code for the second time today.

At the end of the day, you stay behind in class, watching as everyone chats their way out the classroom doors to return home for the evening. All the other students who were to stay for detention come trudging inside; Dabi included to your displeasure. You shuffle in your seat out of discomfort, pulling your sweater down further and holding it in between stern fists as if it were to fly up at any second to reveal your breasts to the whole class. Dabi winks at you after sitting directly across from you, softly mooing at you to insinuate that you were a cow.

“I see they made you cover up those udders, fat tits. What were you thinking walking around with your tits hanging out? This is a school you know.” He says to you at a low tone of voice, talking not allowed in detention. You try and ignore him, scribbling on your notebook as you try and concentrate on your homework. Dabi sits slouched in his seat, writing something on a piece of paper and balling it up to throw it at your head. You glare over at him, the paper ball falling onto your desk in front of you. You open it and see that it’s a note.

“Meet me on the roof, fat tits.” it read, hand-writing just as childish as he is. You roll your eyes and crumple up the note, standing to go to throw it in the trash. Dabi smirks, sitting up in his seat to raise his hand.

“Yo, teach. I gotta piss. Can I use the bathroom?” He asks, chuckling to himself when the administrator grants him another two weeks detention for his foul language.

“Ask correctly or ‘piss’ on yourself, Mr. Todoroki.” He spits, returning to his book. Dabi sighs, rolling his eyes before caving in.

“Fine. May I please use the restroom, sir?” He asks once more, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He stands once he has permission, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be waiting, utters." He taunts, poking your chest before walking out of the room. You sit for a while, stirring in confusion. Do you go outside to see what he wants or do you stay seated and let him wait for nothing. You sigh and raise your hand, politely asking to use the restroom too. The administrator, uninterested at this point waves you away and returns to his book. You shuffle out of the room and walk upstairs to the roof of the school where Dabi stood by the metal fences barricading the ledge.

"Ah. So nice of you to meet with me, fat tits." Dabi smirks, pulling you up to him by the arm. You groan, shuddering at his touch in disgust.

"What do you want, Touya?" You ask, folding your arms over your chest unconsciously; a defense mechanism you've picked up dealing with him over the years.

"Haven't you heard the saying? A guy who picks on you also has a crush on you." Dabi hints, pulling your arms away from your chest, lifting your sweater up to expose your pretty bra. You shriek, trying to cover yourself up again only for your hands to be pinned above your head against the wall.

“So your excuse for treating me like shit is because you’ve got some sick crush on me?” You spat, yet unable to be completely furious as his lips meet yours in a hot and sticky kiss you can’t seem to shake. His tongue slips into your mouth to travel around inside, pulling away with a single string of spit as you pant. You hated him but, fuck, why did he have to be such a good kisser?

“You’ve always been my favorite little toy. Wanna know why?” He asks, leaning in to kiss and lick the skin of your neck. You stifle a moan, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s turning you on.

“Why?” You choke, cheeks burning as his cold hands travel up the sides of your frame.

“These.” He answers, his hands pulling your breasts out of the cups of your bra, hissing at the sight of your pretty nipples. He takes one in his mouth, smirking against your skin when you start to moan helplessly. Your thighs press together as your panties start to soak with slick, Dabi noticing his effect on you quickly.

“P-Please stop..” You whisper desperately, looking into Dabi’s crystal blue eyes with a mixture of lust and uncertainty. He grins, knowing deep down you want him too, whether you said it words or not. His hands travel up your thighs and between your legs, forcing them open to prod his fingers at the growing wet spot on your panties.

“Heh.. I don’t think you want me to stop, do you? God, look how sloppy you are already.” He retorts, yanking your panties down and hiking up your skirt to further expose you. He reaches down to unbutton and unzip his own pants to let his length spring free, your eyes locking onto his bright red head as it leaked with pre-cum.

“Help me out with this, will ya, doll?” He asks, hands caressing your face as you lead you onto the concrete ground. As you sat on your knees, your hands wiping away a stray tear that streams down your cheek. You pull out your breasts a bit further, taking Dabi’s cock in between them and stroking it slowly beneath your cleavage. Dabi sighs out, his head handing back as he ruts his hips upward to match your pace.

“Fuck, just like that. If only you could see how slutty you look.” Dabi groans, voice slightly hoarse as you get him off with your breasts. You groan when you feel his cock start to throb against your skin, half of you disgusted and the rest of you turned on beyond belief as you watch him writhe in pleasure from the very breasts he teased and made fun of so harshly.

“Fuck, stand up.” Dabi demands, practically yanking you up on your feet by your arm and pinning you against the metal fence behind you. Not caring enough to prep you before, he pushes himself inside your weeping pussy; starting his thrusts at a brutal pace. You cry out, your moans echoing through the vast space of the empty roof of the school. Dabi’s hand comes up to cover your mouth as his hips moved faster, wet slapping causing him to groan.

“Ya like that, huh slut? Like being stuffed full at school don’t you?” Dabi asks, expecting an answer out of you after he uncovers your drooling and mewling mouth,“You’re mine. Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”

“”M yours, Touya!” You gasp, feeling the delicious head of his cock brush against your favorite spot with reckless abandon as it blurs your reasoning. You feel your slick spill down your thighs as he ruts into you from behind, his balls slapping up against your swollen clit only adding to the sinful pleasure you were feeling. You almost can’t believe you’re being fucked by your bully on the roof as your hands cling to the metal barb-wired fence you were pinned against, feeling Dabi’s hands reach up and grab your breasts from behind to pull you back onto his cock with fervor. Animalistic growls leave his lips as he pinches and teases your nipples, huffing obscenities into your ear.

“That’s right you fucking whore, take my cock like a good little slut.” He growls as he uses your pussy like he owns you, his cock throbbing inside you as he threatens to cum inside you, “Gonna make you mine forever, yeah? Sound good, slut?” You shake your head no, your body language telling a different tale as you feel your legs get so weak you can hardly stand on your own as Dabi holds you up by your neck.

His hand squeezes around your throat as he cums thick inside you, your gooey cunt fluttering around his cock as you follow shortly behind him. You pant and sob as you come down from your high, Dabi continuing to use your pussy until every drop of his cum is deep inside you; even going the extra mile to scoop up whatever remnants of his cum that leaked from you with his fingers and shoving them into your mouth with a satisfied groan.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Dabi smirks, taking your panties from the ground and handing them to you with a smug look in his eye. You take them and slide them up over your legs and put them back on with a sniffle, ashamed of what you’ve done with him yet strangely satisfied as your cunt still clenches and throbs around nothing after the fact. Confusion stirs within your mind, your thighs trembling as you sat on the bench and watched Dabi walk down the stairs once more.

After you wait for Dabi to walk back downstairs to the detention room, you follow behind shortly after, folding your legs as you feel Dabi’s cum start to spill out and onto your panties. He smirks over at you, leaning back into his seat as he passes another note to you.

“Let’s do that again tomorrow, fat tits. You’re fun ;)”

#dabi smut #bnha smut #.royal requests 👑📜#bakugo smut #bnha izuku smut #bnha todoroki smut #bnha kirishima smut #bnha shinsou

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

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Whistle While You Work (Adrenaline Junkie Blurb)

(A/N): I don’t know how to whistle lmao

Anyways, this is indeed canon and takes place sometime between Chapters 13 and 14. Sorry this isn’t an actual update/chapter. Also, this is unedited

Warnings: none, all fluff : )

“How do you do that?”

You paused and put down your wrench, sliding out from under the contraption you and Arthur were currently building. You sat up and wiped at the sweat that formed on your brow and gave the boy a confused look.

“Do what, fledgling?” He furrowed his brows together, “that sound you were making!”

…What?

At your blank stare, he crossed his arms and looked at you impatiently, “you know! Like… like…” he sighed in frustration before he crossed his arms and looked off to the side, “nevermind.”

You stared at him for a moment before you shrugged to yourself and laid back down on the creeper seat, looking at him in reassurance, “if you figure out what it is, just let me know buddy! You’ll get it eventually.”

Giving him one last smile, you slid back under the metal frame and got back to work. A few moments passed with you asking Arthur to hand you different tools and answering any questions he had while he worked on the exterior. When a few minutes passed without any questions or conversations, you absentmindedly began whistling a tune you had heard a while back.

“THAT!”

You jumped in shock only to yelp when your forehead directly hit one of the metal parts you were installing. Falling back onto the creeper seat, you rolled yourself out and clutched your head in pain. A soft gasp sounded next to you before you heard Arthur hurry over to your side.

“Shoot, (y/n) I’m so sorry I didn’t...” He stumbled over his words before he stopped talking all together.

“It’s okay,” you took a breath in and removed your hands. Nothing besides coal and redstone residue stained your gloves, that was good. Your goggles didn’t have any cracks in them either. “Just make sure we keep the loud noises at a minimum.”

“Are you hurt?” You could hear his voice shaking slightly, so you looked over to see him looking at you in slight horror. You shook your head, “no, it just surprised me is all. I’m not mad at you, you know. I could never be mad at you.” You pulled him into a quick hug before it dawned on you; he was talking about your whistling earlier. “Arthur?” He pulled away slightly and looked at you in question, a small shred of guilt still swimming in his irises. “Was this the sound you were talking about?”

You whistled and watched as he perked up and nodded his head vigorously, a small smile replacing the slight grimace and the guilt being replaced with intrigue. “Yes!”

You chuckled and pulled your goggles off from your head. Wiping at the sweat that had formed on your brow, you stretched your wing out. Satisfying pops sounded from your joints making you smile at the relief it brought you. You looked back at Arthur with a smile, “that’s called whistling. I can teach you how, if you want.”

His eyes and his smile lit up like the stars in the night sky. If he could blind you with his smile, you would’ve been completely blind within seconds of first meeting him. His smile was contagious, never failing to brighten your mood. You found yourself smiling widely at his enthusiasm.

You led him inside and got the both of you cleaned up. On the couch, you sat facing him with your feet folded one over the other. Arthur copied your actions, sitting up straight as he looked at you expectantly.

“Well for starters I’ve never really taught anybody how to whistle, it just comes naturally to me because I’m a… well, I’m some sort of bird hybrid,” when you saw him deflate slightly, you were quick to reassure him. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t teach you though! You’re a fast learner, I’m sure you’ll catch onto it quickly. To start, you’re gonna want to put your lips into an ‘o’ shape, like this.” You pucker your lips into an ‘o’ and watched as he did the same, albeit a bit too large. “Er, a tad smaller.”

His eyebrows furrowed and, without moving his lips, he asked, “‘ike dis?” He tightened his lips slightly. You nodded, a bit unsure of yourself, “...yeah? We’ll adjust as we go. Gently press your tongue on the back of your teeth.”

You both sat there adjusting his mouth for a while and you could see that he was getting dejected at the lack of progress. “I don’t know, (y/n),” he sighed, “what if I just can’t whistle?”

“You just gotta keep trying! You’ll get it eventually. Here, maybe try relaxing a bit more and blowing softer?” He pursed his lips before he tried that, a high pitched whistle coming from him. He immediately stopped and touched his lips with his fingertips in awe. “I did it,” he whispered to himself, shocked.

You grinned widely at him and pulled him into a tight hug, “you did it! I knew you could, you’re my son after all. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m gonna be just as good as you are one day!”

He practiced non stop after that, always whistling as he did small things around the house. Philza, noticing this, jokingly told you that you were raising a clone of yourself.

Eventually, he got to the point where it was second nature to him and he could whistle different notes with a good tone. While you both were working, you would whistle a small rhythm and he would follow. This spiraled into the both of you making up songs and whistling together in simple harmonies.

If Philza didn’t know where either of you were, he quickly learned that wherever there was whistling, there was (y/n) and Arthur. If separated from each other in public, all the other had to do was whistle a part of a song and the other would have no trouble finding them. Whenever you two were working together, whistling became a way for you both to further bond over; even the smallest of medlies was enough to lift the mood.

Arthur was your little songbird.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings @smolgreenybeany @louistommosnesquickmilk @galaxios

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @yeiras-world @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @camisascam @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @jayistrash4 @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @appetiteofapeoplepleaser @lestrangenymph @kinismanditory @dragons-lurk-here @rinzyx05 @the-wandering-pan-ace @angelic-scent @shinipii @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander @izzydimensional @used-avocado @wing-non @lovely-echoo @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @mysteryartisticwriter @momo-has-a-gun @misfortunatem00n @w-0-r-n-n @v-kouya @kusuinko @cheybaee @dulcedippers @jaciahbabes @prlan @hummingbird-lightningstrike @pog-sad-muffin @prickypearpropaganda @thegeekisheere @self-righteous-dumbass @solar-idiot @yummychicknnugget

#adrenaline junkie #adrenaline junkie blurb #uhhhh this is a tag #blurb #pure fluff #no angst this time #promise #there will however be angst in the future #<3 #| |I || |_#idk what to tag here lmao

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felassan · 4 years

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Hii MJ. I was wondering what you think of the possibilities of Zevran being in DA4? Ik bioware has brought back a character from the dead (Leliana), so Idk if I’m delusional for ignoring that zev can die. But considering he (used to?) be associated with the crows and they seem to be a big part of the next game, do you think it might be possible that he could have a conditional advisor like role? Or since he isn’t a crow, he definitely won’t be?

Hi Nonnie! Some thoughts on this. This became long so it’s under a cut. TN spoilers under cut.

Initially on seeing the BtS vid I wondered if one of the Crow figures could be Zevran (gut response). I don’t think it is anymore. That figure’s outfit resembles Zevran’s “Black Shadow” attire from WoT, but lots of characters in the concept art are wearing various types of Crow uniform: the other character in that picture is also wearing Crow clothes, and so are figures here, here (Matt Rhodes’ Art Station upload of this one says that “Crow” is the title of that piece) and here. Assassin-y figures are also present in the lineup shot. I think what it means given the ‘concept art is mood-setting’ stuff is that the Crows as a faction will have a significant role to play in the upcoming game. This makes sense given the prominence of Crows in TN - no less than 3 stories, one of which introduces in-depth a new significant-feeling Crow character (Lucanis, who is currently active in Tevinter, who pinged ‘companion flags’ to me [this is subjective tho], and whose short story ends with in unresolved “unfinished business” Tevinter-heavy hook) and one of which expands at length on known Crow lore as well as being like “here’s what’s been happening with Crow leadership and here’s some setup for what’s going on with the Crows soon due to the Antaam invasion”.

They did bring back Leliana if she was killed in DAO (demon pope!). I might be misremembering, but I seem to remember some tweets or other dev comment somewhere where they said that they’d try to avoid bringing back player-killed characters like this in the future (could def be remembering this wrong though). I also think I remember PW saying that when writing Trespasser, the Bull dying if you sided with the Qun in his DAI mission thing was something they struggled with a lot over whether to have happen or not - because having that happen would mean that in those universes, Bull is dead-dead and that could potentially have knock-on impacts if the writers ever wanted to use him again in the future. There are other cases where dead characters resurface, like Anders in DA2 (but his potential death in the expansion was an epilogue slide, and the epilogues are framed more as rumors and many chunks of them have been retconned in subsequent games) or in the extended media (e.g. Wynne popping up in Asunder if she died in DAO, but we know that the stories in the books and novels aren’t canon-canon, that being a limitation of the media-type where it’s not like you can enter or make choices, but that they are events that fit in BW’s ‘default’ canon, and that the events described therein unfolded in a different way in different universes like in ones where Alistair isn’t King).

The explanation for Leliana’s survival was a highly specific, rare set of circumstances - the devout Andrastian woman who died in a magic mountain full of lyrium which does kooky things, who believes maybe the Maker brought her back. How many lyrium ghost spirit-imitations of dead chars are walking around Thedas, or should be implied to be? The writers can always handwave, retcon, or explain around anything that they choose to, and if they want to bring him back in all universes they will, but I lean towards preferring “player-killed characters stay dead” because of choice and consequence and enjoying that choices have weight and impact. I also think “surprise, they lived” can become overdone as a gimmick if writers aren’t careful (generally speaking, not a DA-specific comment). For me - what would be the explanation for his survival? He can also die at more than one point in DAO. I know he’s beloved and can also be still alive, but possible deaths aside, when it comes to characters returning in this franchise, especially former companions, I also always lean towards “less old, more new” and towards “a few cameos only, not lots, and such cameos should be plot-relevant, not random”. There are a couple reasons for that which I won’t really get into here as that’s a separate topic, but it’s partially due to feelings like - Thedas is a big big place with heaps of people in it, I prefer it when the world doesn’t feel small, DA is the story of the setting rather than any one PC or group, I’d rather meet and encounter mostly-new people, etc.

Aside from that stuff, aside from Antiva, he hasn’t been positioned recently as being in the north or having ongoing plot-stuff there (this isn’t a requirement for him to come back, and it happening for a character doesn’t mean they’re a shoe-in, but compare that with Fenris in Blue Wraith, who is now in Tevinter and working with Inquisition agents). He’s appeared in 2 games already and been referenced in all 4. I really enjoy what I’ll call his ‘romanced epilogue’ as an ending to his story too - unlike the other 3 DAO LIs, he accompanied his love on their quest to the west in search of a cure for the Calling. I love that, it’s so faithful and romantic. He’s still at their side and they’re still together after all this time. He journeyed far into the dangerous unknown with them looking for a needle in a haystack so that his partner doesn’t have to die a horrible early death, as faithful in his actions as his sentiments that he’d storm the Black City at the Hero’s side if he had to implied. The last time we heard from the Hero and romanced Zevran, they were together, and they were well. Y’know? I also tend to assume, due to Lelimancing Wardens returning in the Trespasser epilogues, that all Heroes who survived DAO return from their quest. I don’t want that to be jeopardized, and those references are enough for me.

And as much as I love Zevran (and I really do), I don’t personally feel a need for him to return either, neither in terms of his arc, ‘exploredness’ as a character, or in the overarching plot. As you say, in some universes he’s not a Crow anymore. There was a cool post I saw on this recently which I’m struggling to find the link to, but the jist of it was that the Crows are a pretty shit organization in terms of their ‘recruitment’ and training practises, how they operate and everything. They abused him during his life and he has now freed himself through his experiences during the Fifth Blight with the Warden, and in this new life he’s been on a years-long endeavor to kill Crows. For Zevran’s future, I think I’d like it if it didn’t always have to involve Crow involvement or a Crow focus? Like, that he’s more than a Crow, than a former Crow, than a Crow-hunter/opposer. Separate to that, there are also other, active Antivan Crows operating in the north that we’ve not yet spent time with in a game or ever gotten to know as a PC. It’s a big if, but if a character like Lucanis or Teia etc is prominent in the game, as a companion or advisor or contact etc, it might be a bit redundant to have another. This example is flipped around, but like, we had Cullen as an advisor, and he was “the templar/former templar guy”. We didn’t then also have a templar companion. So if we had Lucanis or whoever as a companion, I’m not sure that we’d then have a Crow/former Crow in an advisor-type role too?

It’s not delusional to want to see a fav or loved character again though. :) I’m not one of the people that wants to see my favs in every new entry, I’m largely happy for them to be let be off-screen, see a reference to them here and there (like the War Table, an allusion to or a dialogue line about them), but I understand the wish and get the feeling behind it. And it’s especially not delusional given the context which is that the writers have brought back player-killed characters before!

I doubt they’d have an advisor or advisor-like person be conditional (imagine playing DAI without Leliana and Cullen if they died or had unretconned bad endings prior to the game, it wouldn’t work without Padok Wiks-style stand-ins or a lot of logistical work on the devs’ part to structure the writing around their absences in those instances). A conditional cameo of some description though I could see (something comparable to his DA2 cameo or Nate’s conditional appearance in DA2 for example). Can’t say how likely this is though, especially given that Crow business-stuff could be repped by other newer chars. Maybe if there’s an option to dismantle, sabotage or oppose the Crows he could crop up. I’d imagine any appearance in relation to the Crows would be anti-Crow or “informer on the Crows due to past experience”, not pro-Crow or “the Crow perspective guy”, in universes where he didn’t go back to them anyway. And I’m not saying Zevran was a Talon or that he’s still a Crow or that it’s him, but just while I’m on this subject it brought a semi-related thought to mind, which is that post-TN and the surviving Talons having contacting the heirs to the other houses’ Talon roles, I do wonder who the new head of House Arainai is.

(I include the info on the ‘where I lean’ stuff because I’m sure it colors or biases my responses sometimes).

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #dragon age #bioware #mj replies #anonymous #video games #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #tevinter nights #spoilers #spoiler #fenris #the Fenaissance #mass effect #abuse mention #cw abuse #abuse cw #abuse for ts

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blackgirl0nline · 4 years

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Colossus x Reader (Fluff)- The Bachelor is Always a Bad Idea

I haven't written anything in so long its embarrassing. But there was this stupid Instagram post, and the need to write something that spurred me onto finally finishing a written piece.

God damn its good to be back

Warnings: none, fluff mainly, it gets oddly existential at the end bc I wanted to kind if flesh out Colossus's personality and what he believes and why. + Ik when you write x reader pieces it's best to make the reader as bland a character as possible so anyone can fit in their shoes. But I quite enjoy when the "reader" has a bit of personality, it personally makes the peice more enjoyable to read. So this took me two days to write enjoy...

Word Count: 2043 (I'm so sorry)

The suspicion started once the Bachelor cut to commercials.

Sat wrapped up in fluffy grey blankets you stilled in your nesting area. A few seconds ago you were perched comfortably on the leather bound couch, wooden frames cushioned by what seemed like miles of not too soft not too hard innards. What are couches made of anyways? You're mind abandoned that thought as a telltale chill swept into the room accompanied by the sounds of large metal feet pounding on the atrium's welcome matt; all of which told you your big metal boyfriend was finally done shoveling the snow.

Glorified Russian boy scout, your mind cheekily insulted him as you wondered what type of person it took to shovel the mansion's walkways blanketed by miles and miles of heavily packed snow, for literally no other reason than the kindness of their own heart. It wasn’t like the kids were lining up to take strolls around the various pathways stretching out like tendrils from the building.

Its too cold for walking. Its too cold for anything but staying inside you big shiny idiot- by which I mean, its too cold for anything but staying inside you big shiny love of my life. You scoffed at yourself, sucking up to him in your own internal dialogue was so unbecoming. Where was your spunk? You're feistiness? Your wit? Piotr Rasputin, you're an undeniably bad influence on my quirkyTM attitude, you thought, He's making me soft, too mushy gushy. You had half a mind to tell him yourself, wondering how he might react. Probably like a first rate Gentleman. My prince charming, a perfect, rule abiding metal behemoth of a man.

Whatever weirdo conversation you were having in your mind halted once the show came back on, rose ceremony drawing your attention back to your half baked suspicions… As if on cue Piotr's knocking could be heard as a lightly thudding on the door to the common room.

"Come in." you mumbled awaiting the upcoming conflict. Maybe conflict isn't the right word you thought as he smiled at you softly before moving in his own time, not too slow, not to quickly, purposefully, mindfully, perfectly. You decided on the word confrontation feeling the winter cold cling to him. No doubt he would be hell to cuddle with before he warmed up. As he sat down he made a considerable effort to give you space if you wanted it, he was wearing this large red corduroy sweater sent home from his family. The only reason he wasn’t with them during the winter holiday was the considerable lack of X-Men at the mansion.

With most of the students gone home to see loved ones, most teachers on specific hush hush missions- or vacation, the mansion was unnervingly empty. You didn’t see many people throughout the day unless you looked for them. It was quiet, no classes going on, no fights breaking out, no pranks, no emergencies. Nothing but training and self entertainment.

Entertainment… you thought looking back and forth between the reality show and your hunk of man meat. The question formed on your tongue while you found yourself involuntarily sliding into Colossus. Which felt kind of … odd, you were still sitting cross legged, and still wrapped up in your perfectly fluffy blanket, but you were slowly and undeniably moving towards the giant who made the couch dip in a bit where he sat his massive chrome-covered ass down. What type of metal is that anyways? Your mind wandered before focusing clearly as some blonde with a beautifully fit body was sent home by the titular Bachelor.

You're eyes narrowed and your purpose was clear. Confrontation time.

"Have you ever watched this show?" You asked, your body's sliding finally halted by his very firm side.

"It is a… reality show right?" he asked his arm migrating the short distance from the top of the couch to drape over the top of your shoulders, pulling you in closer to his cold but not too cold body.

"Yeah. The Bachelor is some guy who a bunch of women compete against to see who'll end up marrying him. " Your eyes trained on him studying his expression- indifference maybe. That you could forgive, it was a stupid drama tv show that, while entertaining didn't mean much to either of you. What did matter, what held weight and gravity and was important, was how he'd answer the next question.

"I know this sounds kind of dumb but," his hand rubbed it's way up and down along your arm, reassuringly of course. But you weren't nervous, not really, just ready to know how he'd wiggle out of the verbal snare you were setting up.

"Don't be nervous dorogoy, ask your question". The way his lips curved into a smile, as his eyes softened as if to communicate the comfort he seemed to embody in every part of him. That tone, his features, his mannerisms, all of him was a big ol' flashing neon sign, twisting glowing letters spelling out a, "trust me It'll be okay". You signed letting go of the tension that permeated the air with its sticky, thick presence. Chuckling to slice the pause open, you bulldozed through the emotional tidal waves with the question of the day:

" If you were the bachelor, and I was a contestant, would you choose me?"

"Absolutely." He didn't hesitate, he didn't pause, it was said with such a confident rush of casual certainty that it almost stopped you're upcoming verbal onslaught. Almost.

You used your arms to push off of him, his arm raised to allow you ease of motion.

"No, no, but I mean, before we met each other." He looked down, realizing you weren't 100% joking around trying to get a good laugh out of him.

"I like you malishka, if that's what you're asking", the assurance in his voice was comforting, but to you its seemed like he didn’t get what you were asking, not really. You rose up from your little nest of blanketed comfort and turned to face him.

"But that isn't what I'm asking," seeing a reckoning on the horizon he leaned forward to rest his forearms on his large sturdy thighs , "I'm asking, if I was one of a many women competing for your love, would you pick me withought knowing me before the competition?"

"Yes I think so. I'm attracted to you because of your personality and your charm and your charity and kindness and feistiness and humor. Your a very specific type of woman zolotse. And I like who you are."

He once again responded quicker than you would have liked, so you found yourself shifting your weight to your back leg, hip jutting out in a showy display of playful antagonism. Your emotions were a mix right now teetering on the edge between wondering honestly if he was lying to please you, or truly this indifferent towards your concern, regardless of how small or stupid it seemed, you wanted an honest answer from him.

" Thanks Pietro, but-"

"y/n I think watching drama shows are having an effect on you" he pokes smiling in that charming way he does, glittering teeth, and glittering eyes and glittering personality. Dammit, you needed answers.

"Just, tell me the truth. What if there were women who were surgeons and doctors, smart women- or one of them was an artist or -" that was your point you thought, not that you weren't good enough, you were good enough, but for him? What if another woman was better for him than you? Did he honestly never consider the possibilities?

"Yes but you're a hero. You use you're power to help others. That's very admirable."

"What if I didn't have powers?" There it was. Clarity, you could see that the got it, that he honest to god understood what you were trying to get out of him.

"What if you were an alien, what if you had five feet what if, what if! These things don't matter because you're not an alien and you don't have five feet and you do have powers. I fell in love with you because you were the type of person I wanted to be, someone who gave their lives up for others- and to make it all better, you have the most attractive personality I've ever met. Even when you're upset with me over some silly show. And for the record, I'm not lying to you. I wouldn’t lie to you to make you feel better- this is what I believe."

Your posture softened and he made a beckoning motion before drawing you into his lap. Everything seemed less hard, your emotions, your conviction, your disdain. As his lack of understanding dissipated, revealing the heart of your concern. As you rested against him he pulled up the blanket to keep your warm.

"I know this will sound totally stupid and clingy and like I'm a hopelessly romantic airhead-

"I could never think less of you for asking me the truth. Never." he promised by kissing your forehead, leaving a warm mark of his patience, a silent promise to get to the bottom of this emotional conundrum.

You had to say it, it was the heart of the discussion:

"You don’t think we were made for each other." The show kept playing on indifferently.

"No. I don’t believe in things like that." His words didn’t comfort you, but they didn’t hurt you either. He was being truthful, and that was worth more than its own weight in gold. "Its not inevitable that we would have found each other. But how lucky then am I to have met you. If our lives could have played out differently, I might not have ever crossed paths with you, we could have gone years and years withought meeting, and would have been just as happy."

There was nothing you could say to that, there was very little going on in your mind as you sat and processed his words, your mind engulfing the meaning and interpreting the sounds.

"But that’s not to say I don’t value you immensely. You’ve made my days more beautiful and vibrant and wonderful. But to dwell on what could have been, or what might have been, or what never was? What a waste." His voice came through with the emotional weight you had been after.

There he finally was, your big metal man, not perfect or pristine, just honest and practical. He was human, he was just as venerable to the aches and pains of what ifs as you were and that was all you had wanted.

"You don’t believe in fate." Your voice croaked out, the silence of discovery weighing heavily on the room

"No," His arms wrapped you in closer, "But I believe in people, doing the best they can in a world that is random and scary and unpredictable. I believe in appreciating what you have. No one was ever meant to do or be anything. Isn't it freeing, that we get to choose that all on our own? I wasn’t destined to fall in love with you dorogya, that was all you. That wasn’t the universe or the stars or destiny. That was two human beings, meeting and showing each other the depth of their compassion and good nature." The show was about to end. Maybe 5 or so minutes, you snuggled into him until the credits began. Standing up to get something to drink or eat or anything that might go along nicely with the weight lifted off your shoulders.

But you were halted by his joking tone coming through, "How about me printsessa? Would you have chosen me?" you rolled your eyes continuing on your way towards the kitchen harboring the real mushy gushy, feely answer from the budding philosopher.

"Depends who the other contestants were." you quipped sass bleeding desperately through each syllable, you wouldn’t let his openness subvert your quick witted replies.

You'd keep to yourself the truer answer, shrouded in tender assurance, a teary, of course Rasputin, I'd choose you every time. You turned for a second seeing him chuckle as the credits rolled across the mansions' TV.

#colossus #colossus x reader #piotr rasputin #piotr rasputin x reader #fluff #dumb prompt turned into a deepdive into a coolio character

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stray-tori · 3 years

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honestly, wouldn’t it be kind of (really) epic if that whole BLCD Drama CDs thing was more normalized for manga overall? Ik anime often has like, bonus drama CDs, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen an actual “audio book” like I have for some BL volumes.

Imagine you could just put on an audio of the characters saying the lines - it might be hard to follow, especially since it’d be in a foreign language - but IMAGINE what that’d do for engagement when you have more than just panels, especially since it also dictates a bit of a pacing, which i always struggle with personally.

OR LIKE, fancontent. You could have someone edit the panels along with it and make a slide-show / animated comic out of it or whatever.

Artists could do animatics or their own animations and wouldn’t have to worry about no audio. Editors could use voice overs for manga edits \o/

Bonus if there’s even music (might make voice overs harder but music contributes so MUCH).

Along with the webtoon trend of animating some panels (usually puppet animation but) - imagine what that’ll do for the medium if it evolves into actual short bits of frame-by-frame animation. Not to mention webtoon and manwha already heavily goes into a sort of animatic aesthetic with successive panels being like key frames.

And some play with audio effects sicne they always know where you are with scrolling. designing an loopable OST that changes at the right times could be amazing (though obviously you have less control then sicne you need to adjust for things)

Not to be like, “we don’t even need anime anymore!” (there’s a lot video format can do differently and it’s interesting to see those things, plus through-line animation and capturing movements which aren’t interrupted / looped by the panel flow) but those things just really intrigue me and I hope to see more creative ways mediums can merge and intertwine \o/

#tori talks #tori rambling over I go back to work now #tori has opinions #media

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ikenbar · 4 years

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Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH3 PT 9

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse (just stories and old scars), Fluffff, also some angst but it’s like the last few paragraphs so don’t get your hopes up, ewwy googy baby high fives, and cliffhangers that will make you beg for more >:D

(Chapter Three (Victor and Lucien) prologue and part one, and parts two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight here~)

((Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D))

Chapter three:

Part nine:

I crashed the moment I hit my bed. When I woke up I called Maria and told her everything that had happened. She was silent through most of the call, partially out of exhaustion from how early it was, and partially because of how angry she had been with me the night before. After hearing the story, she seemed to have eased up a bit but made me promise to call her right away if anything like that were to happen again. I also promised to try extra hard to welcome the new foster child, Adrienne, to the family that night. Maria accepted the proposal without hesitation.

Throughout the entire conversation, Bart hadn't uttered a word to me. I could tell he was angry, so I made it a point to call him later that day. But no matter how many times I had tried to call him, he never picked up.

I also made sure to tell Sam what happened that night when I picked him up from school. “I never trusted Lucien.” Sam growled over the phone, “If he ever tries to bug you again just let me know! I’ll teach him a lesson!” Sam’s adolescent voice made the threats adorable but I accepted his offer nonetheless. It was nice to know he would be by my side no matter what. Now I just had to convince the other members of the family to do the same...

>>>

I tugged lightly at the tie around my neck as I approached the foster house. I had decided to dress semi casually that evening with a white button-up shirt, nice black jeans, and a loose red tie. I had also bought some pies for dessert that night. Hopefully, that would make Bart happy enough to talk to me again.

I rapped on the door. Hurried footsteps sounded from the living room then the door swung open. I was greeted by a wide-eyed and grinning Sam. He was carrying a giggly Lola.

“Look, Lola!” He bounced the baby and pointed at me, “It’s Sissy Ike!” Lola screeched and reached out for me happily. I took her up from Sam’s arms and held her close with my free hand. Sam took the opportunity to take my bags and peer inside of them.

“Hey!” I reached to take them back but Sam dodged my grasp.

“Pies!” Sam cheered, “I hope you got pumpkin!”

“What kind of a fool doesn’t get pumpkin pie in the fall?” I huffed, “Those were supposed to be a surprise.”

“Welp, you shouldn’t have taken Lola, leaving me free to be nosy.” Sam stuck out his tongue. I looked over to Lola who was sucking happily on her fist.

“I can’t believe I trusted you.” I booped the little baby on the nose. Lola giggled and booped me right back with her slimy, saliva ridden hand.

“Come in.” Sam said through a fit of laughter, “I’ll put these in the kitchen for Dad to warm up.”

“Is the newbie here yet?” I asked, walking into the house and closing the door behind me, “Have you met her?” Sam stopped walking.

“Yeah.” Sam laughed nervously, “She’s… a character.” With that, he sped off into the dining room.

“How reassuring.” I said to Lola, who cooed in response. Doors shut from upstairs and footsteps retreated from the bedrooms. Maria appeared at the foot of the stairs, obviously at a loss for words. As she descended, she looked to be lost in thought, completely oblivious of my presence. “Wow.” I said, making Maria jump, “I think I can see smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Evie!” She said sweetly, quickly bouncing down the last steps and into my arms. I moved to complete the hug but Maria had already pulled away. She reached up and held my face in her hands, “How are you feeling, Evie? Any better?”

“I’m ok, really.” I pulled her hands away and gave her a soft smile, “Our talk this morning helped a lot.” Maria gave me a look of shock. My smile dropped. “What?”

“I don’t know.” Her shock melted into curiosity, “You seem… different today. Softer almost.”

“Perhaps the leaky baby in my arms makes it look that way.” Annoyance trailed from my words as another slimy slap hit my face. Maria laughed and took Lola from my arms.

“Come here, you!” She cooed, rubbing her face into the giggling baby’s, “Sister Ike has to go greet Sister Adri and hopefully put her in a better mood!”

“She isn’t in a good mood?” I asked looking up the stairs.

“Nope!” Maria kept up her playful tone for Lola, “In fact, I think I made it worse! Hey, Lola. Can you say ‘good luck, Evie!’?” Maria waved Lola’s hand to me, wordlessly pushing me upstairs. I sighed and accepted her challenge, walking to the bedrooms carefully.

I approached the pink bedroom door quietly. Scuffling came from inside the room, guaranteeing the existence of the new occupant living there. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” An annoyed, high pitched voice welcomed me. I pushed open the door and looked around. The room was fairly simple but had a clear aesthetic.

Neon lights in spring.

Pale pink based every furniture in the room and neon displays outlined them with various colors. My eyes landed on a teenage girl sitting on a comfy looking bed. She was tall and lean, legs splayed out and body contorted uncomfortably as she hunched over the phone in her hands. She wore black leggings, red converse, a large band tee shirt, and an even bigger tan jacket that poofed nicely around her arms. Her hair was black, bobbed, and straight, framing her heavily makeup ridden face. Her style seemed sharp enough to cut anyone who approached her and it was clear that was what she intended.

Adrienne pulled her attention from the phone as I walked in. She let out an annoyed huff as she eyed me up and down. “You must be Ike.” Adrienne said in a disgruntled tone.

“I take it you’ve heard about me?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.

“The old man wouldn’t stop talking about you.” Adrienne rolled her eyes, “It was ‘Ike this’ and ‘Ike that’ with him. I’m surprised you didn’t walk in with a halo and wings.”

“So they didn’t say anything bad about me?” I sighed and shoved my hands in my pockets.

“No.” Adrienne deadpanned, looking back at her phone.

"They didn’t mention anything about me being an emotionally distant adrenaline hog?"

Adrienne looked back at me, eyeing me in a way that made it clear that she was waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Once she saw I really wasn't kidding, she straightened herself slightly, ".… I think one of the twins might have touched on it." She said cautiously. Ah, good ol Ashton. "The other twin made me a macaroni picture." Adrienne gestured to her vanity. I approached it to find a macaroni picture of a smiling dog that read, Welcome to your new home, A-Dog!!

"Sam and his macaroni pictures." I shook my head and picked up the picture, "I threw out the first one I got from him. When he saw it in my trash, he didn't get angry. He simply made me another one. I stopped trashing them after the tenth try. It's still hanging in my apartment as we speak." I had two of his works actually. The one he made me at the foster home and the other one he had made me when I moved out. They were proudly framed and placed by my bed.

Some macaroni started sliding down the picture. He must have just made it. I placed down the picture carefully and walked back over to Adrienne. I pulled her desk chair out and swung it in front of her bed. Straddling it, I leaned forward, placing my head on the palm of my hand. “Ashton would be the other twin. He tends to be blunt about things. Bart and Maria could learn a thing or two from him. Now, allow me to introduce myself correctly.” I held out my hand, “Hi, I’m Ikamara Bikira. But you can call me Ike. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” Adrienne hesitated a moment but eventually took my hand. She shook it limply, making my grasp seem like that of a giant’s.

“Adri.” She murmured slightly, withdrawing her hand rather quickly from mine, “So.. you aren’t the super prissy heiress they make you out to be?”

“Nope.” I deadpanned, “In fact, most of the people I work with hate me. Say I don’t have any human decency or manners. They’re right, of course, but it still hurts.”

“But, the folks made you out to be this super caring person who only thinks for the people around her and never herself.”

“They tend to do that for the people they care about.” I sighed somewhat happily, “They only talk about the redeeming qualities so you seem so much better than you are. In fact, Maria did it for you.”

“She just barely met me.” Adri huffed, trying to catch me in a lie.

“You’ve seen Maria. Do you really think time will stop her from deciding whether or not to love and adore you?”

Adri seemed to be at a loss for words. She huffed and looked down at her phone. I took the opportunity to admire the poster hanging over her bed.

“You like Kiro?” I asked, staring into those familiar eyes on the poster. He was singing into a microphone and smiling charmingly at the camera.

“Who doesn’t?” Adri scoffed, keeping her eyes on her phone, “I have all of his albums on my phone.”

“Me too.” I found myself saying, as I got lost in his eyes.

“What?!” Adri laughed, snapping me back to reality, “Really?! I didn’t take you for the type!”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” I eyed Adri.

“I mean, Kiro’s music is full of emotion! You’re,” Adri looked me up and down again, “Not.”

“I’ll have you know Kiro’s music got me through highschool.” I said, redirecting my eyes to that dazzling smile, “He also connected me with this family.”

“How so?”

“Sam and I would listen to his music together all the time. I even used Kiro to communicate to Ashton while I was mute.”

“You… were mute?” Adri asked, hesitantly. My eyes unfocused from the poster and became large. Dang it, Victor. I thought to myself, Now you’ve got me spilling my guts to a seventeen-year-old. I hope you’re happy.

“Yeah.” I replied slowly, unsure about what to say, “For three years.”

“So it was selective.” Adri crossed her legs and sat in front of me, making me straighten my posture in response, “Why did you choose to be mute?”

“Since when did you become so interested in me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Since you stopped being a prick and actually became interesting.” Adri answered eagerly, gesturing to me to start talking. I looked blankly into her eyes. Victor’s words swam through my head.

“...I don’t blame you for needing time to ready yourself for the world, but you can’t stay in your head forever.”

Maybe talking to Adri about this stuff could be the step forward I needed to take.

I unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves to my shirt. “My mother left me and my dad when I was a baby, and my dad had important business to attend to… business that didn’t involve me. So, my dad put me in the foster program when I was just a child. Since then I was admitted to six different homes, counting this one. The first home sent me to a sort of Bootcamp, the second home neglected me, the third home gave me too much of the wrong kind of attention, the fourth home made me lose parts of myself; Including the feeling in my left arm... and my voice; and the fifth home… was featured on the news.” The scars on my arms radiated strangely in the neon lights, “By then I was discouraged. It had been ten years since my father had promised to come back for me and I was still in the system, bouncing from house to house. From one family who didn’t want me to the next. When I had arrived at this home, I was ready for it to be the same way…

“But it wasn’t. I was greeted with a macaroni picture, a hug from a large friendly man, a bright smile from a kind lady, the cold shoulder from a strange little boy, and a large welcoming meal. It still took me a month until I was sure I could trust them, but that was thirty-one days I wish I could take back. I wish I had started speaking to them right away. I wish I told them everything I felt and exactly how thankful I was that they didn’t hate me. That they wanted me around to love and welcome me as their own. Their love means more to me then they will ever know… which is why I want to ask one thing of you.” Adri had been transfixed on my arms as I spoke. I took her chin and pulled it up so she would match my gaze, “Give them a chance. Before you know it you will be out of here and reunited with your family. Let them love you the way you deserve because, whether you like it or not, they are going to do it anyway. And they aren’t ever going to stop doing it. No matter how badly you mess up. Trust me, I know. They…” I paused, “...we are your family now. We’ve got your back. So there’s no need to fight us.” Adri stayed silent, staring blankly at my face. I let go of Adri’s chin and stood up from her chair. I held out my hand, “Now, why don’t we head downstairs? Bart normally likes it when we set the table for dinner.”

Adri ignored my hand as she looked up at me. She had a clear sparkle in her eyes. Many emotions filled them. Sympathy, sadness, regret…

... but also realization, adoration, and above all, respect. Adri raised a shaky hand to mine.

Before she could take it though, the door swung open. Sam stomped in, worry and anger brimmed on his face. Those emotions morphed into awkwardness as he realized what he had interrupted. “S-sorry!” He said sweetly, “Did I ruin a moment?”

“I’m sure there will be more to come.” I smiled at Adri. She smiled back meaningfully, “What’s up, kiddo?” Sam’s face returned to the state it was in before as the topic returned to him.

“N-Now, don’t kill the messenger.” Sam spoke slowly and shakily, “But we have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” I asked, bracing myself. One knowing look from Sam made the answer clear. “No.” I wined slightly, “Please be joking.” A familiar laugh came from downstairs. Anxiety rushed into my stomach as I groaned. I hid my face in my hand.

“Who is it?” Adri asked warily.

“Oh! He is just delightful! Super fun!” Sam smiled sarcastically. Then his smile dropped, “and also a son of a-” I held a hand up to Sam to stop him from contributing to the swear jar.

“Why don’t we go meet him.” I groaned, moving towards the door, “There could be a chance he got amnesia within the few hours we last saw each other and he could have completely forgotten about me.”

“What, hold on, tea?!” Adri jumped up from the bed and grabbed onto my arm, “Spill it! Is this guy an ex??”

“He wishes!!” Sam spoke up again and jumped in front of Adri, “Go on down, Ike. I’ll be the one to catch Adri up to speed.”

“What, so I can go face him alone?!” I scoffed, “No way! I’ll stay here. You go.”

“How about we all stay?” A low melodious voice came from the doorway, “I would like to hear what happened as well.”

(Next)

#oof that ending tho???#makes the heart a flutter #it makes you begg for more and i loVE EEETTTT #mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc fluff #mlqc fanfiction #mlqc oc #mlqc oc fanfiction #mlqc lucien angst #mr love #mr love lucien #mr love fanfiction #fanfiction #ike n bar productions #ikes choice #mr love ikes choice #ikamara bikira story

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veganmikehanlon · 5 years

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10 and 25 for hanbrough if you please! otherwise any pairing will do ♥

you know that thing where u can’t even search ur own blog for something you /literally/ tagged? this was something like…idk something but it reminded me of something i already wrote so i Really have no reason for not posting it sooner other than procrastination being my middle name so anyways, this:

Mike doesn’t mean to start writing a sex scene while sitting in a Starbucks, but he’d tried writing at home, well it’s just his parents house now, and his mom kept walking in trying to talk to him. So he left the old farmhouse and drove into his newly modernized hometown of good ol’ Derry, Maine.

It’d started with a piece of his story inspiring a memory from his own sex life. Something he’d done forever ago with an ex. Secretly, in a tent. Surrounded by friends. Not their most shining moment but it was hot and applicable to his current story.

He’s in the middle of writing about tongues sliding together when his eyes are drawn to the sound of the shop door opening. He almost chokes when he sees who it is walking in. Well, daydream about sex with your ex and he shall appear. Mike ducks behind his things to hide because he’s panicking.

Mike watches Bill walk to the counter, he observes the broad lines of his shoulders move under familiar flannel; and how the end of his short blond french braid, mostly held together by multi-colored bobby-pins, brushes the collar in a physical reminder of how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.

He walks through the room with the same gentle confidence that he always had, and it still draws the same admiring gazes from those around him. Mike’s eyes flicker between Bill and his computer screen, the incriminating words screaming at him, and then he catches sight of Bills’ smile and the perfect adjective pops into his head.

Just like that he’s writing again, more caught up in his story than he’s been in the last 30 minutes. Words stream from his fingertips and a scene unfolds, bits and pieces of Mike’s past slipping through, and just as he’s writing a description of how exciting it is to make someone moan as loud as you can make them laugh, he’s interrupted.

“Hi,” a soft voice calls, startling Mike from his head making him jump and hit his knees against the table, a move that almost sends his coffee toppling, but two pairs of hands shoot out to catch the wobbling cup. Bills’ hand settles warmly over Mike’s before he draws it back with an awkward chuckle.

A shiver runs through Mike as Bill’s fingers brush over his knuckles, and he looks up at the man before him with wide eyes. “Hi,” he squeaks, this entire situation sending him careening out of his comfort zone. Bill clears his throat before speaking (an old habit) “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a wince.

Mike chuckles nervously, his voice coming out a bit high and strained, “it’s okay I was just, um, writing.” This might be the most uncomfortable he’s ever been in his life. But Bill looks excited and he falls into the chair opposite Mike, setting his coffee and a notebook down on the open space.

“You’re writing?” He asks, a smile spreading across his face, and Mike has to smile back because oh yeah, they’d once shared everything with each other and Bill knows all about Mikes’ commitment-phobia to writing.

Mike quickly switches programs, an attempt at putting the niggling guilt in his chest away. “Yeah, just this story for this thing,” he answers vaguely, and they pause for an awkward second before Bill starts to ramble. “I’ve been working on drawing (a sentence that makes Mike proud too), I’m in a portrait class right now at school, and I came here to people watch and I saw you, and I was wondering if you’d mind if I practiced drawing you?”

Mike gasps softly in surprise at the request, “uh, what? You want to draw me?” The words fall from his mouth without his input, any functional part of his brain currently caught in a dumpster fire, set by this stupid story that is making an already uncomfortable situation of running into an ex just that much worse!

And then Bill is talking again, “well my art style has changed and I thought it’d be cool to get a comparison, you know, a then and now? It’s cool if you don’t want me to, no biggie, just thought I’d ask, but actually? Never mind,” he starts gathering his things into his arms, “sorry for bothering you, it was nice seeing you, bye!”

He starts to get up but stops when Mike bursts out laughing, his cheeks reddening, and he stays frozen uncomfortably. And Mike doesn’t mean to, but seeing Bill so obviously out of his comfort zone has him cracking up, the situation making him feel hysterical, and he can’t quite stop the laughter bubbling out.

Mike manages enough words to get Bill to settle back down. “Hey man it’s cool, it’s good seeing you too, you know me, I love to help.” Bill settles back into the seat and flips his sketchbook open with an eye roll. Mike can’t help but tease him, he starts shifting through different dramatic poses, making Bill laugh loudly. A hand behind his head, his bicep bulging, Thinking Man pose, his smile barely suppressed-

And Mike ends his display by lewdly flicking his tongue between his fingers. “Jesus Mike!” Bill sputters out between laughs and Mike raises his hands in an innocent gesture, his own laughs ringing out through the space between them. “Sorry, I’m done!” He surrenders with an amused snort.

Bill sticks his tongue out childishly at him and flips the pages of his notebook to a blank page, “just go back to what you were doing weirdo,” he says softly and Mike lets out another laugh before following his directions. Well, not exactly since he’d literally been writing about his and Bill’s sex life. Oops.

He fucks around on his computer for a bit, opening and closing a few homework assignments (yeah right like he’d be able to concentrate right now), editing bits and pieces in other stories, he even plays a couple rounds of solitaire. But his attention is scattered after three lattes (that’s 2…4…6 espresso shots) and the adrenaline rushing through him from Bill sitting across from him drawing him which requires Bill to look at him with his blue as fuck eyes-

“Hey you wanna go somewhere?” The question bursts from Mike and he cringes at the abruptness. “Wait, you’re drawing, never mind,” Mike amends with a shake of his head. But Bill just flips his book closed with a simple “yep,” and starts chugging the last bit of his coffee.

Mike packs up quickly and, swinging his backpack over his shoulders, follows Bill out of the shop.

“Holy shit, is that Silver?” Mike exclaims incredulously when they walk outside. Bill laughs and leads the way to the old bike where it’s locked up by the building. “Yeah, Georgie didn’t wanna give up the car, so I’m stuck with her.” Bill explains. Mike runs a hand over the handlebars with a small smile, “seems smaller than she used to,” he comments, nostalgia rushing through him. Bill hums in agreement, “easier to handle too,” he comments steadily belaying the nervous shake in his next words, “and still big e-e-enough to ruh-ride double.”

Mike grins excitedly, “why Mr. Denbrough, are you going to show me a good time around town?” Bill’s face lights up with a wide grin and giggling, he unlocks his bike quickly, “it’d be my puh-pleasure, Mr. Hanlon.” They drop their things in Mike’s truck before racing recklessly out of the parking lot, Bill pedaling frantically and Mike hanging on tight to his waist, praying he doesn’t go flying off the back of the bike.

It’s weird spending all day with an ex, but they’d been best friends for just as long as they dated, and it’s as easy as it’s always been. They ride through the streets of Derry just like when they were kids, taking turns too fast and speeding over bumps. Mike’s teeth click together but it barely registers over the barrage of other sensations. The softness of Bill’s waist under his hands, the warmth between his back and Mike’s chest, the soft blond hairs flying into his face where they come loose from the braid and bobby pins.

It’s a lot of old and new sensations that has Mike’s head spinning.

They ride until Bill complains of shin splints, his face red and a little sweaty. Mike totally doesn’t think of licking the sweat from his brow because that would be weird. They ride back to Starbucks and load Silver into Mike’s truck. They sit in the cab, unsure where to go from here. They decide to live out the nostalgia further, and head to the barrens.

“Can you help me get all these out?” Bill asks gesturing to the many bobby-pins in his hair. Mike pats the spot on the truck bed next to him and Bill sighs a “thank you” as he sits with his back turned to him. Mike begins to gently pull the clips from his hair, doing his best not to pull knowing full well Bill is tender-headed.

He brushes the hair out with his fingers as it’s freed in sections until all the pins are out and Bill’s hair is a wild mane framing his face. Bill had shifted to face him when Mike got to the sections held back in the front, and Mike watches his face carefully. His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed in contentment. He’s always liked having his hair played with, no doubt part of the inspiration to grow it out.

Mike finds himself fiddling with the ends of his hair, carefully brushing it back from his face. He’s too distracted watching the soft strands fall through his fingers to notice Bills’ eyes have opened to watch him.

They used to lay in bed together, Bill on Mike’s chest, while Mike would drag a hand through Bill’s hair while they cooled down. Sometimes they would talk and other times they would lay in silence, just letting themselves feel the moment.

Lost in his thoughts Mike doesn’t notice Bill moving his face slowly closer, or how his hand has ceased it’s ministrations running through soft blond hair to rest gently on his cheek, he doesn’t realize he’s guiding Bill’s lips to his own until they’re barely a breath apart. And then soft lips land on his and awareness comes crashing over him.

They both freeze for a second, they’re mouths held stiff against the other, and then Mike opens his mouth slightly to pull Bills’ bottom lip in between his. And with that Bill is pushing forward and Mike unfolds his legs so he can slot in-between his knees. They kiss desperately, mouths moving together hot and slick. Mike moans softly at the feeling.

And then he’s pushing away because holy shit, “did you-“ he pants and Bill moves to kiss his neck at the interruption, unwilling to stop whatever this is. Mike is totally okay with that but, “you didn’t eat meat today did you?”

Bill stops his traveling lips, body going stiff in the not fun way. It may have been something they used to argue about when they were dating, Mike thought it was gross to kiss Bill after he’d eaten meat, and Bill didn’t get what the big deal was. Mike thinks maybe he ruined the moment but then Bill is grinding his hips down into him and he drag his lips up Mike’s neck to his ear, making him keen at the sensations, his own hips stuttering to meet the boy’s above him.

“Not yet,” Bill whispers grinding down into the v of Mike’s hips harshly, drawing a groan from the man that quickly turns into laughter. Throwing his head back Mike giggles loud and uncontrollably. “Seriously?” He laughs breathlessly, Bill sucking a mark on his neck. He pulls back to look into Mike’s eyes. “Seriously. Your nagging finally got through my thick skull.” Bill says with an eye roll followed by a wink.

“Wow, fuck, that was such a fucking turn on.” Mike says drawing Bill closer with a hand on the back of his neck and kisses him passionately.

#veganmo #writing prompt #hanbrough #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #it fic #bill x mike

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iluvmyogblog · 6 years

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Roommates, Routines and Best Friends

A/N: (also just a disclaimer, i find my gifs on google sometimes!) oh my gosh you guys, i am beyond happy with the feedback i’m receiving!! you wonderful souls truly rock! also, what you guys said about Sammy boy is pretty saucy. keep makin’ predictions. i promise the story with Sam WILL come up. oh and i’ll tag this series with “rrbf” and ik im posting back to back kinda but im just so anxious! 💗💗💗💗💗

Summary: (AU) being roommates with the infamous womanizer Bucky Barnes is tough, especially when all he does is bring home different girls every night and complain about you and your choice of men. masterlist.

Words: 2585

Warning(s): lango ? ugh bucky being terribly beautiful AND STEVE JUST UGH

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends : Day Dates - more like ALL day

Steve was extremely nervous to take you out. It had been so long since he went on a date. The last date he remembers going on was the one where his girlfriend of four years broke up with him. ‘I need to find my own thing, do my own thing. Be my own person,’ is what she told him. Steve was terrified. He didn’t know how dates worked anymore. For Christ’s sake, he asked you out on a day date. Are those even a thing? He had consulted Bucky about dating once. Bucky said day dates are weird and to not ever go on one for a first date - he said it meant that it was real, and the date-e would get a ‘serious relationship in the making’ vibe. Everyone knows that Bucky knows what he’s talking about. The guys basically a god when it comes to girls. And what does Steve do? Ask you out on a day date.

You had texted Steve the address to the apartment the night before. That was before you knew that he knew Bucky. When he got the address, he was confused as hell. ‘Did Bucky move and not tell me?’ Sometimes, Bucky would do things without telling Steve. Of course Steve would feel left out but Bucky would always fill him in. So he figured he’d just ask Bucky about that later. He straightens out his collar and clears his throat. His palms felt sticky and his mouth felt dry. He had a rose in his hand. Just one. He really didn’t know how this whole date thing worked anymore. He was so out of the game. He blows out a breath.

“You got this, Steve. Just knock. Just knock,” he whispers to himself as he extends his hand out to knock on your front door. He shakes his head, “here goes nothing.” He knocks three times and steps back. He watches the door knob turn and pull open the door. He looks up and prepares himself to see you. His heart racing a thousand miles per second.

“Aw, is that for me, buddy,” Bucky says with a cheeky smile as he grabs the rose from Steve’s hand. Steve opens his mouth to talk but nothing comes out. He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head up, staring down Bucky. Bucky sniffs the rose and stares back. “What?”

“Where’s- that rose is for (y/n).”

Bucky smirks and steps aside, letting Steve in. “Fun fact, (y/n) hates roses, she thinks they’re cliché. She’s getting ready,” he says as he closes the door and walks to the kitchen, “thirsty?”

Steve shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pocket, looking around Bucky’s apartment. He notices decorative pillows on the sofa. A vase with sunflowers sitting on a desk in the hallway. “She um, she lives here.. with you?”

“Yessir. When she told me who she was going on a date with, I shitted myself. What a small world right,” Bucky shouts from the kitchen. Steve laughs softly, nodding as he walks over to the kitchen. He leans over the counter, crossing his arms while he does so. Bucky twists the cap to his water bottle and glances at his best friend. He walks over to him and copies his motions, opposite of him.

Steve glances at Bucky. He was still confused. He wondered if Bucky’s ever tried anything with you, if he’s done anything with you. He nods his head towards Bucky, “how long have you had a roommate?”

“Going on six months.”

“Is that why you never invited me over? Trying to keep her for yourself,” Steve teased, a little bit of truth behind his words though.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. Although he rejected Steve’s notions, he kind of felt like thats exactly why he didn’t invite his best friend over anymore. He liked knowing that he would get to come home to your voice asking how his day was. And every time a girl laid her eyes on Steve, it’s like he’d disappear. The sounds of footsteps making their way to the kitchen made the guys’ head turn. You were wearing a sundress and wedges. Bucky had never seen you wear anything like that. He was so used to seeing you in sweats or his t-shirts - even your apron for work, never a dress and wedges. When he dragged you to that party, you were just wearing jeans and a fancy shirt. He said to go casual so you did. Looking at you, Bucky couldn’t think of anything prettier.

“(Y/n), you look... beautiful,” Steve says. He turns to Bucky and grabs the rose that was sitting in front of him. You blush, smiling as you tell him ‘hi’. He hands you the rose and smiles softly.

“She hates roses,” Bucky mumbles, staring at your smile. You and Steve brush off his comment.

“You ready,” Steve asks as he reaches for your hand. You nod and grab his hand. You glance at Bucky and give him a ‘oh my god’ look. Bucky chuckles softly and watches your happiness expressed on your face. Everything’s moving slow motion for him. Your hair was curled, and the way it moved when you turned to look at Steve made Bucky weak. He didn’t know what was going on. He wasn’t sure why he was looking at you the way he was.

“I’ll bring her back safe and sound,” Steve says as he waves bye to Bucky. Bucky peels his eyes off of you and nods to Steve. He sticks his hands in his pocket and walks behind you guys. Before you completely walk out the door, you turn and face Bucky. Steve lets go of your hand and waits for you outside of the door, leaning against the frame.

“Do I look okay,” you whisper to Bucky. He clenches his jaw and nods, giving you this look. You knit your eyebrows together, trying your very best to read him. This look was new. You had never seen it before. It almost looked like frustration, pain. But you didn’t know. You weren’t sure.

“You’re breathtaking, doll,” he whispers back. He clears his throat and pushes you out the door gently. “Have her back no later than eleven p.m, son.”

Steve chuckles and rolls his eyes, looking at his best friend. It was his turn to whisper to Bucky. Bucky leans against the door and smiles at his friend. Steve gives him a handshake and pats his shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

“A day date. What did I tell you about those?” Bucky shakes his head, laughing as he hugs Steve, patting him on the back. You watch them and roll your eyes playfully, mumbling ‘get a room’. Bucky glances at you with that stupid look again. You swallow the lump in your throat and look away. The two pull away. “It’s good seeing you, punk.”

“You too, jerk,” Steve says with a smirk. The three of you bid goodbye’s and see you later’s. Walking to Steve’s car was fun. There wasn’t awkward silence, not even on the way to the movie theater he was taking you. He bought you snacks, a huge bucket of popcorn. He even did that cliché thing where the both of you reached into the popcorn at the same time. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make the two of you bust out laughing. Of course, the two of you did not pay attention to the movie whatsoever. Making jokes and throwing food at each other was what the experience consisted of. After the movie, he took you out to eat sandwiches.

There was this place - amazing place. He had mentioned it to you while the two of you were strolling through the park, eating ice cream. You had never been and he was so shook. He practically pulled you to the place. He ordered you his favorite and watched you take your very first bite. You loved it. Safe to say, you liked him. You like him. Everything was so easy with him.

“I’ll take two beers,” Steve told the bartender. You peaked at your phone. 8 pm. You had left the apartment around noon. You glanced at Steve. He was leaning over the bar counter, waiting for the beers. You smile and look back down to your phone.

Need an out?

Wya?

(Y/n)?

Are you okay?

Send a heart if you’re not dead.

jk just send something.

You laugh and shake your head. Bucky was so extreme sometimes. “Here you go, gorgeous.” You turn your attention to Steve and grab the beer he slid towards you. He sits across from you and glances at your phone. You shrug.

“Bucky’s asking if i’m okay,” you say as you take a sip of your beer. Steve points towards your phone, you slide it to him and watch him take a selfie. You giggle as he turns the camera to you.

“Say hi to Buck. You look alive, are you alive?” You laugh and hide your face. You feel Steve’s hand pull yours away, exposing your red cheeks. You smile, showing your one dimple. That made Steve bite his lip, he loved it.

“Hi, Buck,” you said softly, “I’m alive. I’m okay. Don’t wait up for me tonight,” you said as you glanced back to Steve. He smirked and stopped recording, quickly sending the video to Bucky.

A few drinks later, you and Steve were sharing stories. “So tell me, when was your last date?”

You sit up straight, your smile faintly fading as you try to recall your last date. “Um, I’d say about almost nine months ago? Maybe even ten,” you say with a dry chuckle. He leans in closer, you do the same. He gazes into your eyes, searching for the memory as if he can see you sitting somewhere across from another guy.

“How was it?”

“Terrible,” you say smiling. Even though it was terrible, it was still a memory of him. You hated him, but the memories of him were nice sometimes. “His name is Sam. I went to high school with him. Literally only dated him all those four years and even up to my sophomore year in college.” Steve nods slowly, listening to your every word. “I thought I was gonna marry him,” you said with a sad smile and shrugged.

“I almost thought I was gonna marry my last girlfriend too,” Steve says softly as he holds your gaze. You tilt your head and lean into him.

“What happened?” He shrugs and looks around the bar.

“She wanted to be independent. She didn’t want to rely on anyone-on me anymore,” he says weakly. You look at him and put your hand on top of his, gently squeezing.

“Let’s get married. I’ll rely on you... sometimes,” you say with a smirk, trying to lighten the gloomy mood. He looks at your hand and laughs.

“I think I need Bucky’s blessing first.”

You laugh and shake your head, biting your lip. “Yeah, you might.”

Steve smiles and looks up at you. Your hand was still on his. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or if it was his eyes that made you spin. The perfect shade of blue. You were lost in them. All you wanted him to do was kiss you. You wanted him to lean over the table and grab your face and pull it to his. You weren’t that drunk. He wasn’t that drunk. He did wanna kiss you. He wanted to kiss you so badly but again, he was afraid he didn’t know how to anymore. And quite frankly, so were you. You hadn’t kissed any other guy but Sam. He was your world. Adjusting to doing things without him was hard. The idea of Steve was hard. You wanted it. You wanted to be with Steve. Especially after this date. You spent all day with him and didn’t think about Sam once, up until now of course. And the same for him. His ex girlfriend, Peggy, was clear out of his mind when he would hear your voice.

“I should get you home,” Steve mumbles. He doesn’t move. His eyes still stuck on yours.

“You should,” you mumble. You don’t move either. You were stuck. You didn’t ever want to look away from him. These feelings, they’re new to you. They’re new to him.

“Let’s just stay here all night,” he says. You giggle and nod.

“Um, I’m sorry but we’re closing in five minutes,” a man says, causing you guys to turn to the source.

“Oh, like now?” Steve asks as he looks at the guy.

“Like in five minutes, sir,” he says monotone-ly. You snort and laugh, Steve looks at you and laughs too.

“Way to ruin the moment, dude,” he says as he gets up, leaving a few dollars for a tip. You scoot out of the booth and lean down, fixing your shoes as you laugh softly. The guy shrugs and watches the two of you lean into each other as y’all walk out of the bar. You pull out your phone. Two a.m. You gasp.

“Steve, take me home. James is probably having a panic attack,” you say through laughter. Steve glances at the time displayed on your phone.

“Shit, yeah lets get you home.”

“Wait,” you say as you turn to Steve. He stops and looks at you with a confused look. Even with wedges on, you’d have to tiptoe to reach his lips. So that’s what you do. You place your hands on his chest and tiptoe, closing your eyes as you softly place your lips on his. It doesn’t take long to feel Steve kissing you back, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding onto you tightly as he moves his lips against yours. You run your hands up his chest and rest your left hand on his neck while the other runs over his jawline and cheek, up to his hair. His hair was soft, it felt silky underneath your palms. He gently lifts you up, deepening the kiss. Your mind was consumed with the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around your body. The ends of your hair tickled his forearm as he set you back down on the ground. Your hands rested on his cheeks, the both of you slowly pulling away. You bite your lip and feel his grip loosen, his hands resting on your waist. You run your hands down to his biceps and keep them there. He clenches his jaw and smirks, scanning your face.

“Now I don’t want to take you back home,” he says with his gentle voice. You chuckle softly and look into his eyes.

“It’s our first date, mister,” you whisper. He smiles and kisses your cheek. He sighs and grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers with his.

“First of many more,” he glances at you as he walks you back to his car. The two of you were taking all the time in the world. He adored you. He knew he wanted something special with you. He knew Sam screwed up, and he knew that Sam would give him shit if he knew who he was on a date with. The butterflies in your stomach came back as you felt Steve stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. How could anyone want to end things with Steve? He was perfect. It was a perfect day date turned night. Steve couldn’t be happier he went to that party. You couldn’t be happier.

•••

Part 3.

if i forgot to tag you, plsplspls lmk!!!

woah, wait... so we don’t really know what Sam’s done yet.... it’ll be saucy ;)

what’s up with Bucky? How do y’all think he felt when he saw the video 😭

tag(s): @coal000 @goldenstateof @cherrywinedarling @justahappylilblog @faakelanadelrey @juicyqueenlme @ourdreamsrealized @boyzines @bornfortherainydays @fightmeandmy100fandoms @deadpoolgirl23 @bethanyv10 @ilovethings-somuch @spidey-linquentimagines @lilypalmer1987 @gravity-9-8 @vivianbabz @imeannooffensebabybut @queendade @irepeldirt @petals-overdaisies @warishaadnan @sweetmockingbird @loki7ms @chickennacho1 @dakotacheyennee @starkxpotts @sighscassidyy @jellzu @krockszz @lowkeysebby @chuckennuggets1213 @wowbarnes @eccentric-impulses @dugan365 @frackinawesomeninja @cosmetologynerd @straight--on-til-morning @sophiealiice @barnes-and-noble-girl @satans-knitting-club @grosskyjaja @xunicornwhovianx @evetheplum @cravingmustard @raventt5-bb @dedicated-fangirl-forever @sarahp879 @fandomlover03 @bands-and-shietz @wintersoldierbarnes @keepyoureyesopenwide @brokenanxiety

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes AU #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers x reader #au #rrbf

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batsonas · 6 years

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i just... idk. i think im just tired of the whole “bruce is endangering kids” narrative. dgmw, i get /why/ its written and all that - i understand it, i do. its just that at this point in my comic reading career ive read so many various iterations of it, ive had enough

and i dont mean like, bruces guilt over it, cause that is as deeply ingrained in him as his general guilt over not being able to save every living person in gotham. its a part of him. /that/ particular angle is not what i have a problem w. its the framing of it like he deliberately seeks out these kids just to throw them directly into the life of a vigilante that bothers me the most, i think

ik there are a lot of different interpretations of batman and robin and that writers exist on a sliding scale of “bruce is The Worst Human Being Alive and His Kids Hate Him” to “bruce isn’t perfect but goddammit he is trying his best”, but imho all versions of batman and robin that describe either of them as “soldiers” are way off the mark. like you can talk abt bruces “war on crime” all you want to, you’ll never be able to convince me of that being literal rather than figurative

the metaphor falls apart, for me, when you take into consideration what bruce is trying to actually /do/ for gotham. if you consider batmans crusade to be more about saving those that have fallen through the cracks, about redemption, about second chances, about /saving people/, rather than about vengeance and violence and extracting a pound of flesh, then you can’t look me in the eye and honestly apply any sort of military metaphor. you just can’t. there’s no way to acknowledge batman’s role as being one of a force of innate good but also argue that the only way to attain that good is to exterminate those that do wrong

which brings me back to my original point: if you acknowledge that bruces intentions, however potentially misguided his methods, are always geared towards saving people and mitigating hurt, then you can’t also tell me that bruce seeks out kids to deliberately put in the line of danger. it just falls through. especially considering that when bruce originally set out on his crusade, and in the years after, he’s always intended for the only true victim of it to be... himself

contrary to what a lot of people (including some dc writers... priest leave the batfam alone b*tch) want to believe, bruce has never wanted any of his kids to follow in his footsteps. he didnt want a robin, never wanted a robin, not for any pseudo-macho reasoning, but because he didn’t want to put them in the line of fire.

whether or not they /listen/ to him is an entirely different can of worms, however

#txt #opinion blogging #does this make sense? i dont know #i have a hard time organizing my thoughts #tune in next week for my rant abt that stupid misplaced blame characters do where they blame bruce for shit he had no control over

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pedroscurls · 7 years

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Title: Fatal Attraction (Part 1.)

Character(s): Ike Evans and Diana (original female character) Summary: Diana is newly married to Ben Diamond, also known as The Butcher. However, after meeting Ike Evans, the charming older gentleman of the Miramar Playa, she can’t help but indulge in an intimate relationship with the man. Can she keep this a secret from her dangerous husband? Word Count: 3,957 Warning: SMUT!!! Author’s Note: So, I was going to post this on Monday (which I have it scheduled for, but I couldn’t wait, so here you go!) ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO @hawtdiggitynegan FOR THIS IDEA!!! Give her some love and check out the stories that she has written because they’re fucking good. I can’t wait for you all to read this and what we both have in store for this! It’s going to be hot. I mean, I included smut in the first chapter. Stay tuned! ;-)

(GIF Source: @mypapawinchester)

Song: Only You by Brenda Lee

“Are you going to make it tonight, Ben?” Diana asked, walking up to her husband and placing her hands on his chest.

His smile was small and when she thought he was going to give her affection, she was immediately disappointed as his hands grabbed her wrists and gently removed her hands from his body.

“I can’t tonight, baby. Next time, I promise.”

That’s what he said last time, she thought.

“Oh, okay…”

“Don’t wait up for me,” he kissed her cheek, pulling away too quickly that Diana wasn’t able to revel in the brief kiss.

She watched him get into the backseat of his car with his men and speed away without a second thought. Diana didn’t know this was the life she was going to have to live after agreeing to marry him. Ben changed after their honeymoon and it seemed like she didn’t even know him at all anymore.

Diana walked back into the mansion and into her room, which was separate from Ben’s. They didn’t even sleep in the same room as one another and when they were intimate, Ben didn’t dare touch her. He liked to watch, but never touch. It was odd and very different from their honeymoon.

Since moving to Florida, Diana heard many rumors about Ben. She always wondered what he did for a living, but he simply answered with “business” and shrugged it off as if it wasn’t important. Still, though, that didn’t mean that Diana didn’t hear rumors about his so-called “business.”

He was supposedly known as The Butcher and if that nickname didn’t terrify her, the stories did. Ben was ruthless and a murderer, never blinking an eye to kill people for his personal gain.

However, Diana assumed they were just rumors. Ben was her husband and as a doting, loyal wife, she had to trust him. Though, it had been six months since their honeymoon and the moment they landed in Florida, his demeanor changed.

They had been going from having sex nearly every day to nothing at all. He was busy, as he said, but Diana was beginning to learn that maybe the rumors weren’t rumors at all. Maybe they were the truth and simply warnings for her to leave.

Ben had been married twice before her and coincidentally, both women died during childbirth. It seemed too ironic for both women to have complications during their pregnancy leading to the birth of their child.

Regardless, Diana told herself to never push Ben to the edge. She had been walking on eggshells around him since moving and she was desperate for human interaction.

Ben and Diana met at one of her shows and he was immediately captivated by her beauty and her angelic voice. Seeing her on stage and hearing her sing in that beautiful gown, Ben knew that he wanted her and whatever Ben wanted, he got.

She convinced him to allow her to continue singing since they moved. He was reluctant at first, but ultimately found a reason to flaunt his new wife in the best possible way. She was beautiful and she was talented.

Diana finished getting ready. She was supposed to perform at the Miramar Playa tonight and was extremely excited. She heard that this hotel had become very popular in the past few years since it opened. There was a big party happening in one of the hotel’s main ballroom and this allowed Diana a chance to mingle and showcase her talent in one night.

Her hair was perfectly curled, applying a pin to one side to hold it back and away from her face. She was dressed in a black gown that reached the floor and showcased her curves; it was sleeveless, sleek, and had a deep low v-cut to expose her chest. Diana finally applied her deep red lipstick after sliding her feet into her heels. As she stood from her seat, she looked herself over and grinned. She was ready.

There was a driver waiting for her at the front of the mansion, leaning against the car. Diana smiled politely, avoiding the man’s lingering gaze on her body.

“Evening, Mrs. Diamond,” he smiled politely.

“Hi. I’m all set and ready to go,” she replied.

The man opened the door for her and Diana smiled in response. As she slid into the car, she placed her bag on her lap and watched the man shut the door and climb into the driver’s seat. Without hesitation, he started the car and began driving to the Miramar Playa.

While she was excited, Diana was also nervous. She always had nerves before going on stage, but she knew that when the lights would hit her and the microphone would be within arm’s reach, she would be fine. She just hoped the few songs she was going to sing tonight would be more than satisfactory.

Diana felt the car stop. She had been thinking so much that she didn’t realize they finally arrived. As she stepped out the car, Diana was taken aback by the beauty of the hotel. It was right on the beach and she yearned to just ditch the dress and go for a swim. Hopefully, though, this wasn’t going to be her last visit to the beautiful hotel.

“Miss Diana, right this way,” a bellboy said, smiling at her politely. “Mr. Evans is currently preparing for the party tonight, but he had me escort you to your changing room.”

“Changing room? I didn’t think I was supposed to bring any clothes,” she responded, biting her lower lip.

“Nonsense. I’m sure Mr. Evans planned ahead.”

He led Diana throughout the main lobby of the hotel, leaving her driver outside to smoke. She was fascinated, looking around with wide eyes and a small smile on her lips. Once at the room, the bellboy smiled and held the door open.

“I’ll let Mr. Evans know that you’re here. Help yourself to some food that we laid out for you, and good luck out there,” he grinned.

“Oh, thank you.” The young man shut the door and Diana arched a brow, looking at the assortment of snacks on the table. She looked herself over in the mirror and bit her lower lip. They were treating her like she was some big celebrity that it just made her even more nervous.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. Diana opened it to reveal a man in a well-tailored suit with soft eyes and a small smile that showcased his dimples. She cleared her throat. He was handsome and Diana knew that thinking about having sex with him was technically cheating, but she couldn’t help it.

It was hard to look away from him.

“Diana, right?” he smiled, his voice deep and husky.

“Mhm…” she answered. “That’s me.”

“Mind if I come in?”

“Um…”

He chuckled, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Oh, sorry. I’m Ike Evans. Owner of the Miramar Playa. I probably should have started with that, huh?”

Diana blushed, “Probably, but come in.”

He stepped inside, glancing around the room before turning his attention back to her. Diana watched as his eyes ran over her frame, but he maintained a neutral expression. She couldn’t read him, but the smile was still on his lips.

“You look gorgeous,” he complimented.

“Oh, thank you. I hear it’s a big party. I’ve got to impress you somehow,” she teased.

Ike chuckled, taking one hand from his pocket to run through his hair absently. “I’ve got a few other singers after you, so if you’d like to stay after your set, you are more than welcome to.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans.”

He shook his head, “Ike. Call me Ike. Mr. Evans makes me feel old.” he laughed.

“Well…” she grinned.

“We just met and already you’re teasin’ me,” he winked.

Diana bit her lower lip. It had been a long time since she was given this much attention from the opposite sex that she was yearning for more. He was tall, handsome, and she wanted him.

“Should I stop then?” Diana smiled.

Ike took a step forward into her personal space, looking down at her. “Don’t. I kinda like it.”

She licked her lips slowly, her red plump lips begging to be kissed. Diana looked directly into Ike’s eyes and smiled, “Well, I should probably get ready.”

Ike nodded, walking towards the door. He turned to look over his shoulder and smiled, “You’re trouble, aren’t you, Miss Diana?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should find out for yourself,” she winked.

“I think that answers my question. I’ll see you out there, Diana,” Ike chuckled, closing the door behind him.

Diana sat at the chair and sighed to herself, shutting her eyes as her mind drifted to Ike. She couldn’t even think about Ben whatsoever. At first, she was excited to come to the Miramar Playa and perform, but now she was more excited to see Ike again.

A couple of minutes passed when there was a faint knock at the door once more. It was the same bellboy from earlier to tell her that the party had begun and they were waiting for her to come onto stage.

She nodded, reapplying her red lipstick and walking out of the room. Diana followed the bellboy into the main ballroom, immediately noticing the stage. She stepped onto it, her heels clicking against the floor and when she got up to the mic, the spotlight faced her and instantly, Diana smiled.

Her eyes scanned the room and when she found Ike standing with a few other men, the song began and the band started to play.

Diana kept her eyes locked onto his, despite the spotlight making him a dark shadow. She held the microphone stand and began singing, her voice carrying through the room effortlessly. The song hadn’t been directed to anyone, but she made sure that when she looked at Ike, she meant every word.

She was playing with fire, but he was giving her a thrill that she hadn’t felt before. Diana gently dragged the stand lightly along the stage as she sang through the song, biting her lower lip seductively when there was a break in the song.

Diana felt the tension surround the air as the song slowly came to an end. As the spotlight moved with her, she had a better glimpse of Ike who looked entranced by her movements and voice. She smiled at him, finishing the song with a gradual fade. She bit her lower lip when she heard the claps from the many people that occupied the ballroom.

She sang two more songs until the other singers were next. As she did, she noticed that Ike was nowhere to be seen, so she focused on her vocals and playing the crowd. Diana loved being on stage and showcasing her talent. She was humble, but she knew she was good.

After her set, Diana walked off stage and went back to her changing room. She debated on going back to attend the party as a guest, but decided against it. She didn’t know how Ben would react if he knew that her singing was an excuse to go to parties.

Just as Diana was going to reach for the snacks on the table, there was a soft knock at the door. She arched a brow and opened it to reveal Ike who stepped inside without asking this time around. He locked it behind him and smiled, tilting his head.

“I loved your performance,” he said.

Diana smiled, walking back to the table. She leaned over it to look at herself in the mirror, her backside sticking out as she reapplied her red lipstick. “Thank you,” she muttered.

Ike cleared his throat, his eyes raking over the tightness of her dress. He walked over to her and rested his hands along her sides, running it down to rest on her hips as he pressed himself against her.

She gasped, looking up at him through the mirror as she dropped her lipstick onto the table.

“Ike?”

“I just met you, but there’s something about you that I want more of,” he admitted. “I want to get to know you.”

Diana stood upright, his arm snaking around her waist and keeping her flush against his front. “We can’t, Ike…”

Ike noticed how she hadn’t pushed him away yet. He knew she wanted this too, so he hesitantly dipped his head lower to lightly kiss along her exposed neck due to the pin holding her hair back. “Why not?”

“I – It’s complicated… My god,” she moaned, his lips brushing against her hot spots. Diana felt her lower half throb, yearning for the lack of attention that its received. She tried to think of Ben, but with Ike’s strong arms holding her against him, his lips on her neck, and his front pressing against her, she couldn’t think of anything but Ike.

“Ike…” she repeated.

He turned her around slowly, hoisting her onto the table and pulling her to the edge. Her gown was long, so it was difficult to part her legs, but Ike kept his distance while keeping his hands on her hips. “If you want me to leave, tell me and I will go right out that door and act like nothing happened.”

Diana stared at him. He was being serious. She contemplated on telling him to leave, but there was something in his eyes that wanted him to stay. It wasn’t only the sex that she wanted. Ike was piquing her curiosity and while she had temptations before him, no one ever got close enough to breaking that wall to get to her.

She was still married, but Ike was at the forefront of her mind. Ben had become an afterthought.

As the slow seconds trickled by, Ike took a step back. He assumed she wanted him to leave.

“All right, Diana. Good night,” he whispered.

Diana shook her head and tugged on his wrist, pulling him back to her. She looked into his eyes and cupped his cheeks, leaning in to press her lips lightly against his. She whimpered instantly at the feel of his soft lips against her own. It was as if they were made for one another at how easily they began kissing; it seemed almost too normal and familiar.

“You want this?” he asked, pulling back to look into her eyes.

“Yes… I want this. I want you, Ike.”

He nodded, smiling and pressing his lips onto hers again. Ike hiked her gown upwards, bunching the material in his hands and lifting it to her hips. Diana lifted herself for her dress to continue to lift from her legs.

Once it rested on her hips, Ike ran his hands along her soft, smooth thighs. He parted his lips, allowing Diana’s tongue to flick against his own and he eagerly groaned at the sensation, bringing his hands to her hips and gripping it to pull her further to the edge.

She gasped, parting her legs even further. Sitting at the edge of the table, Ike pressed against her and allowed her to feel his growing bulge from within his suit pants. She was soaked and he could feel it through the material of her lacy underwear.

“Do you always dress like this underneath your clothes?” Ike asked, moving his lips across her throat to her collarbone where he slowly lifted one of its sleeves down her arm.

“Mhm… A woman’s got to have sexy lingerie,” she smiled, shivering against his soft kisses.

Ike groaned at her answer, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Are you messing with me?”

Diana licked her red lips, shaking her head. “Not about that.”

He narrowed his eyes, pushing your panties aside and running his slender finger along your slit as your wetness coated the tip of his finger. Ike grinned, pulling back to bring his finger to his lips, groaning at the sweet taste it left on his lips.

“Ike, please… I can’t wait any longer. I need this,” she moaned, dropping her hands to undo his belt.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss along her neck as he allowed her to undo his pants. Once Diana removed the buckle from the belt, Ike took initiative and pulled his zipper down and undid the button from his pants.

Diana looked up at him before dropping her eyes to his lower half. Quickly, she pushed down his pants and watched as the article of clothing (along with his boxers) dropped to the floor to pool around his ankles. Then, she caught sight of his erected manhood standing full at attention and begging to slide into something warm and tight.

She reached out and ran her fingertips down his throbbing cock, feeling the warmth and his pulsating vein from her touch. Diana parted her legs, sliding further down the edge of the table as Ike took a step forward.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

“Yes… Stop asking and give it to me,” she growled.

Ike smirked, flashing her his dimples once more. He gently pushed her hand away so that he could grasp himself. Slowly, he brought the tip of his cock to press against Diana’s entrance, groaning.

“Fuck, Diana…” he mumbled, pushing his hips forward as he finally sunk into her depths.

She moaned loudly, arching her back as she moved her hands to grip the edges of the table for stability. Diana was not expecting him to be this large and despite stroking his cock just a few moments ago, it was different now that he was stretching her from the inside.

“Oh my god, Ike…” she moaned, tossing her head back.

Ike looked at her, tugging one side of her dress further down to reveal her breast. He leaned down and latched his lips onto her nipple, sucking it with occasional flicks of his tongue as his hips began to thrust into you in a rhythmic pace.

Diana’s hands move to Ike’s hair, threading her fingers through his locks as he continued to pay attention to her breast. His hips did all the work and Diana knew she wouldn’t be able to last. It had been so long and her fingers weren’t helping whatsoever.

Ike was giving her more pleasure than any other man (including Ben) had given her. He pulled back to look into her eyes, bringing a hand to cup her cheek.

“Open your eyes, Diana,” he whispered.

She leaned against his touch and opened her eyes to look into his own. Diana bit her lower lip, his hips slamming into hers causing her orbs to widen at the sudden hard thrust. He was filling her to the hilt that gave her the sensation of being filled in the right places.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful,” he repeated.

Diana wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. She moaned against him, her walls beginning to tighten around his member as he moved in and out of her rapidly without any sign of stopping.

“I – I’m close!” she moaned against his lips, pulling back to dig her nails into his suit jacket. “Ike…”

“Come for me,” he whispered huskily. “Come all over my dick.”

At his choice of words, Diana held onto him tightly and wrapped her legs around his waist as her walls tightened and she felt her climax rush through her body unexpectedly. Ike groaned, her warm abyss tighter than ever.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slamming his hips repeatedly into her.

After a few thrusts, Ike pulled out and covered his tip as he released over his hand. Diana watched him carefully as his face contorted into pleasure. He had thrown his head back and his mouth was slightly agape once he released his own climax. She realized that his release was now all over his hand and she smiled, grasping his wrist and bringing each of his fingertips to her lips to suck off his sticky, white liquid.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” he smirked.

“Mm, delicious,” Diana replied with a grin, reaching over for a napkin to wipe the rest of his release from his hand.

Ike pulled his pants back up and recomposed himself to make it look like nothing happened. She smiled, the thrill of getting caught was running through her veins and she stood from the table to resituate her panties and lower her gown. Diana covered her breast and looked up at Ike, licking her lips.

Just as she was going to speak, there was a knock at the door and she widened her eyes.

“Diana, we’ve gotta go.” It was her driver. She really hoped that he didn’t hear anything.

“Yeah, I’m coming! Give me a second,” she answered.

Ike looked down at her, “Oh yeah, you definitely were coming.”

Diana giggled, grabbing a napkin and writing her number down. Ike looked over her shoulder and smiled to himself. She turned to face him and placed the napkin into his jacket, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Call me,” she smiled.

“And you know where to call me,” he answered with a grin.

During the ride back to the mansion, Diana couldn’t help but think about Ike. His dimples, his gorgeous brown orbs, his deep voice, his soft lips caressing her skin, his hands gripping her tightly, and his hips slamming into her… She couldn’t get him out of her mind and she was certain that she didn’t want to.

“All right. You’re home. You know the rules. No leaving until Ben comes back,” her driver said.

“I know. Thank you for driving me.”

He nodded, giving her another lingering gaze before turning away to light his cigarette.

Diana quickly entered the mansion and decided to take a bath. She poured herself a glass of wine and ran the water in the large bathtub. She could touch herself at the thought of Ike and she was sure that she would reach climax.

After removing her clothes and the water finished filling the tub, she entered and slowly lowered herself into the sudsy water. She brought the glass of wine to her lips and smiled at the taste, shutting her eyes and leaning her head back.

Stuck in her thoughts, Diana didn’t notice that Ben had entered the bathroom. He kneeled next to the tub and gently ran his fingertips across her cheek lightly.

“Hey, baby…” he cooed.

Diana flinched, opening her eyes and biting her lower lip at the sight of Ben despite her mind being occupied by Ike. “You scared me,” she feigned a fake giggle.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Did you do well tonight?” Ben asked.

“Absolutely. I had a great time performing like always. The crowd loved it.”

Ben grinned, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Diana shut her eyes and imagined Ike, but there was a faint scent of perfume that lingered around Ben that did not belong to her. She never thought she would get cheated on, but she couldn’t get angry because she did the same tonight.

Instead, she forced a smile and turned her head to kiss his cheek as well. “Thank you for allowing me to perform.”

Ben smiled, “You know you’re my favorite right?”

Diana didn’t understand his question, but she simply nodded. After their brief conversation, Ben left the bathroom. She shut her eyes and suddenly felt very dirty about herself. However, she felt dirty that she was married to Ben and not that she cheated on him.

She knew that Ben had other women, but to smell it on him was different. It confirmed her silent accusations and she wanted nothing more than to be with Ike.

Forever taglist (if you want to be removed, let me know): @disfigured-it-out || @chunex || @oceanicseries || @dixonsbait || @negan--is--god || @see-you-then-winchester || @sabedorias || @harleysandbats || @k4veggies || @labyrinthofheartagrams || @purplemuse89 || @ladyynegan || @scentofpineandhazelnutlattes || @may85 || @a-girl-interupted || @spn-cw123 || @multireality || @ashzombie13 || @constellationsolo || @isayweallgetdrunk || @fyeahashley88 || @sweetsweetpeach || @heartfulloffandoms || @myheart4ever47 || @asshatry || @laymetorest77 || @jenniegs || @magikat409 || @daintyunicorn || @fiftypercentmoreintoyou || @ask-kakashihatake || @jeffreydeanneganstrash || @ibelongtonegan || @meanandshallow || @naughtyneganjdm || @hawtdiggitynegan || @zombeeemomeee || @warriorqueen1991

#jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #jdm fanfiction #ike evans #ike x ofc #magic city #magic city fanfiction #story: fatal attraction

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glenngaylord · 4 years

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SEOUL SURVIVORS - My Review of PARASITE (4 1/2 Stars)

[Excerpted from https://thequeerreview.com/ ]

It would be understandable to watch the first ten minutes of Parasite, the new film from Bong Joon Ho (Snowpiercer, The Host) and think you’ve stumbled into an alternate universe version of Shoplifters. Both feature an Asian family of grifters living in a hovel and preying on people with money. Both won the prestigious Cannes Film Festival’s top prize a year apart. While both excellent films, Parasite is to Shoplifters what No Strings Attached was to Friends With Benefits. I won’t chase comparisons any further than that, because Parasite is a staggering work of art worth putting on its very own pedestal.

Bong Joon Ho has delighted in subverting our expectations within specific genres, whether it’s a monster movie, a chase film, or an environmental issues farce. His films have often explored the marked differences between the haves and the have nots. With Parasite, he and co-writer Han Jin Won bring this social dichotomy to the world of the home invasion thriller, creating a masterful, screw-tightening, devastatingly powerful gut punch of a movie.

I’ll set up the basic premise but spoil nothing in this review, as the surprises merit fresh eyes. The Kim family live in a damp basement apartment which affords them a view of drunken men urinating right outside their street level window. They subsist on odd jobs like folding pizza boxes and dream of better lives which they can see on their iPhones whenever they’re able to piggyback onto their neighbor’s WiFi. This foursome, played by Kang-ho Song, a Bong Joon Ho regular, as the father Ki-taek, Hye-jin Jang as the mother Chung-sook, Woo-Sir Choi as the young son Ki-woo and So-dam Park as the daughter, deserve a break.

Good fortune strikes them one day when Ki-woo’s friend tells informs him he’s traveling overseas and needs him to cover for him as an English tutor for the daughter the wealthy Park family of four. Ki-woo impresses the parents, who live in a sleek modern mansion in a well-to-do section of Seoul. The father, Dong-ik (Sun-kyun Lee) owns a tech company and has the shuffling gait of a man used to his creature comforts. The mother, Yeon-kyo (Yeo-jeong Jo) oozes compassion and beauty despite not always being aware of her surroundings. They raise their young children in a bubble which gets burst wide open with the arrival of Ki-woo. Soon, enough, the rest of the Kim family insidiously infiltrates the Parks’ lives, and my story description ends here.

Needless to say, Parasite draws you in with its basic premise and then, like the best of Hitchcock and Kubrick, turns it on its ear and makes you gasp. The majority of the film delights in revealing every little shift which occurs in that gorgeously stark home until you slowly realize that everything has changed. In an instant, however, things go bonkers (you’ll know it when you see it), but it doesn’t so much feel like a tonal shift as it feels like an organic extension of our poor family’s desperation. The film doesn’t feature a human antagonist. The Kim’s do what they need to do to survive in a tough world, and the Parks are mostly kind to their employees, although they do separate themselves a bit by noticing that poor people have certain smells. It’s enough of a detail to evoke a ton of empathy for the Kims.

Make no mistake. This is a movie-movie. It has grand set pieces and almost unbearable suspense. I’ve never before witnessed the preparing of a ramen type dish in the context of a nail-biting moment, but there it is for Bong Joon Ho to mess with his audience for several agonizing minutes. Same goes for a sliding shelf door, a living room table, a light switch, a flooding apartment, and an innocent enough outdoor party. What the filmmaker seems to be saying is that what separates the classes is merely a thin veneer. We’re all one tiny moment away from losing everything.

It doesn’t hurt that the assembled cast shines. I especially loved the interplay between Kang-ho and Hye-jin as the parents. Their increasingly dire circumstances bring them closer together with each showing the other tenderness despite the mayhem. I also loved Yeon-kyo’s guileless performance as the too-easily impressed mom. Had she done a little Googling, she may have prevented what ensues, but she seems to love people, so it’s hard to hate her.

For a moment near the end, the air leaks out of the tires with a sequence slightly out of step with what precedes it. I should have known better to question it, as Bong Joon Ho is a master filmmaker. Of course it would swing around again to produce an unforgettably heartbreaking final moment. It’s up there with the great movie endings.

Bong Joon Ho uses everything in his powers to achieve this instant classic. His cinematographer, Kyung-pyo Hong, understands how to present space in a frame and how to mine suspense out of every slight camera move. Ha-jun Lee’s production design presents a vivid contrast between the two main homes. Jail Jung’s orchestral score gives the film an appropriate heft, worthy of such big flights of musical fancy. Parasite is a movie of its time as each of us circle around the ever-diminishing musical chairs. We don’t know when the music will stop, but when it does, some of us are in for a world of hurt. At least we may still find beauty in it if great filmmakers like Bong Joon Ho have a seat at the table.

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