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gatheringbones · 6 months

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[“Turns out that being a lesbian outside of the privacy of your own home was quite hard. I’m not talking about the various manifestations of homophobia—oh, that old thing. I’m talking about scoring. Picking up chicks. (As it turns out, I would come to prefer the type of woman few would recognize as female, the type who would cheerfully deck you if you called her a chick, but might, if I were lucky, see me as such: a chick, a babe, a femme fox.)

In the oeuvre of Mr. Spillane, being a lesbian seemed so easy, like shooting fish in a barrel. In my favorite lesbian novels, No Blonde is an Island and My Gun is Quick, all a gal had to do was brush up against another woman by the water cooler and, watch out, the sapphic sparks would surely fly. Lesbianism was something any woman could do, no special equipment, messy creams or liquids were required.

But when I walked into my first dyke bar in New York City, I had a rude awakening. It was like transferring to a new high school. No, it was worse than that. A new junior high school. You walk into the class on the first day and everyone turns to stare. Your clothes, your hair, the way you move, it’s all wrong. You have to change everything or die a horrible and lingering death.

I guess the moral of this story is that there are some pursuits, such as lesbianism, that one can’t learn from a book, no matter the author. A more crass sort might make some tasteless jokes at this juncture about “boning up” on lesbianism, or about “hands-on experience,” but the reader can be assured this dyke will not sink to that level.

I watched the other women dancing, talking, flirting. All transactions were conducted in a lingo as incomprehensible to me as straight guy sports speak. My late-seventies disco fever look was out of place here. Everyone looked like they’d raided the closet of their bigger, older brother while he was out repairing refrigerators.

I was the only one wearing makeup.

Someone approached me: “This is a gay bar.” I shriveled up and a gust of wind blew me out into the street.

I had no skills. No lesbian skills. I was stared at, rather than cruised, at the bars. I couldn’t find a way of singnaling to another dyke that I was open for business, a friend of Dorothy, in the life, on the bus. Let alone desperately horny.

Somehow I managed a few invites to lesbian parties. I’d figured out that wearing lipstick was wrong, but I was still doing it. I’m such a congenital WASP that my lips disappear without makeup; I couldn’t imagine having sex without lipstick. I had tried to pull a lesbian look together: oversized second-hand men’s clothes, an unbuttoned black vest, but Annie Hall does not work on someone five feet tall.

Nor could I play softball. When something is thrown at me, even if it is specifically designed for that purpose, I automatically duck. All I had going for me in the lesbian skill department was ownership of a cat. Enough to break the ice, but not cinch the deal.

Certainly I couldn’t just come out and ask some other dyke to show me the ropes, so to speak. The seventies were still going on even though it was now the eighties. Feminism and lesbianism had kind of merged, become one big multinational entity with Andrea Dworkin as CEO. You had to be sneaky to get laid.

Yikes. It had been so easy with men. All you had to do was bend over at the bowling alley and something would happen.

After two years, the drought ended. I saw a sign that advertised: “Double-X-Rated Christmas Party for Women.” The party was held in the basement of a Catholic church. Perhaps the priests had passed out upstairs and had no idea what was going on. Or perhaps the priests were the drag queens working the bar. Nevertheless, I was there as soon as the doors opened. And the doors were not the only thing that opened.

I walked into the basement where the party was taking place and saw rows of thrift store tuxedoes, second-hand prom dresses. The doorperson made it clear that these outfits could be borrowed for the evening. After they checked their coats, many party-goers were borrowing outfits from the racks and disappearing into the bathroom to amend their attire. As the evening went on, I noticed more and more women trading in their flannel and denim for sharkskin and taffeta.

At this, my first encounter with the women who produced the WOW Festival and would later open the WOW Cafe in a tiny linguini-shaped storefront on East Eleventh Street, I fell in love. In love with all of the women, with their outrageousness, their unruly desire. I wanted desperately to be a part of whatever it was they were doing…if the WOW Cafe had been a support group for lesbian skeet shooters, that’s what I’d be doing now.

Instead, I found theater, or it found me. And the theater, it seemed, offered a wonderful solution to my involuntary celibacy: the casting couch. In theater you are encouraged to have sex with as many people as possible; it’s an integral part of the process. At least at WOW it seemed like the shows were almost an afterthought to the flirting, a byproduct of the endless parties where women of every imaginable gender rubbed up against each other.

This last paragraph reads like a natural cue to cross-fade to the Story of the First Girlfriend, doesn’t it? At this point, I should see a stranger across a crowded room, our eyes should lock, and the violins should swell like wieners on the grill. But this scene isn’t part of my coming-out story. Who even remembers my first girlfriend? Not me. I remember lots of bodies, I remember rooms lit by lots of small lights, and above all else, I remember lots and lots of Rolling Rock. This movie doesn’t end with a soft-focus closeup on two women kissing; this is a coming-out story that crescendos into a crowd scene. It’s a wide-angle shot. The climax of my coming-out scenario isn’t a closeup on a lesbian couple but a panorama of a lesbian world.”]

holly hughes, from what comes first, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#holly hughes #lesbian literature #history stuff #gender stuff

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sexy-sapphic-sorcerer · 18 days

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1: Magic is a Metaphor < 2: Morgana is a Lesbian < 3: Merlin is Gay > 4: Arthur is Bi

Again with the whole metaphor thing, Merlin's entire character is about having to hide his identity and wishing that he could be free to be himself so that he wouldn't have to lie about how much Arthur means to him. So that's all very gay, but he's also just very queer-coded generally. There are so many jokes about him being more effeminate or wearing women's clothing, most notably in this episode where he dresses in full drag and then takes the opportunity to shamelessly flirt with Arthur. Unhinged.

Basically every other character seems to just assume that he's gay, at least towards the end, because Gaius and Arthur are in utter disbelief that Merlin would be 'seeing a girl'. And of course he isn't, he's actually sneaking around with that druid guy, leading Arthur to question how courting a girl would leave him 'walking with a limp.'

I also think it's very interesting how often Merlin has to pretend to be attracted to women to avoid people discovering his secret, like with Gwen in Series 1 or Morgana in Series 2. Or this scene, where Gwen and Merlin are the only people not affected by the Lamia's seduction charm and they're trying to figure out why. And Merlin says, 'it doesn't affect you because you're a woman'. And firstly, Gwen is like, 'so what?' So, bisexual queen. And then Merlin says, "it only affects men," and Gwen says, "so then why haven't you fallen under her spell?" And Merlin is just like, 'oh shit, I don't know. I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't be seduced by a woman.'

Now, you might be saying, "but Merlin is attracted to women! what about that one female love interest he had for literally one episode who immediately died?" Oh, you mean:

I'm sorry to all of the Freylin shippers out there, but this was so clearly just the writers' last-ditch attempt to make Merlin straight. If you think about it, Freya also 'has magic' if you catch my drift, and that is the only thing that she and Merlin have in common, and the only thing that they talk about. And if you look at their dialogue out of context, it really doesn't seem like it's magic that they're talking about. It's just gay/lesbian solidarity. Also, never forget when Colin Morgan accidentally referred to Merlin's potential love interests as "him or her." So who else could he have been thinking of?

Merlin definitely had a crush on Lancelot. From the moment that they first meet, he just keeps going on about, 'omg, isn't Lancelot so strong and brave and chivalrous? God, I hope he becomes a knight, he would look so good in a suit of armour.' And then he says to Gwen, completely unprompted, "so just for the sake of argument– Arthur or Lancelot?" Why are you thinking about that Merlin? Then that scene ends with Merlin and Lancelot getting drunk and stumbling home together and waking up the next morning having shared Merlin's single bed. So take from that what you will. I don't necessarily think that anything happened between them, not because I think Lancelot is straight, don't get it twisted, just because I think he's a fucking virgin.

But certified pansexual manwhore Gwaine on the other hand, oh they definitely fucked. And it's a very similar situation to Lancelot, Merlin's only flirting technique is just to find some buff guy who's just saved his life and be like, 'oh my god what can I possibly do to repay you? Maybe you could come back to my place and I could tend to your wounds and then we could go down to the tavern, have a few drinks'.

And it works. Merlin literally used his job as apprentice physician to the Knights of the Round Table as his own personal Grindr, and i love that for him. But, of course, these are just side hoes to Merlin's main bitch, Arthur.

You can deny everything else that I've said, but you cannot deny that Merlin was in love with Arthur. And don't even try to say, 'but it's just because it was his destiny'. Because, yeah, like that's any less gay. They're two sides of the same coin, destined to be together, Merlin 'uses magic only for Arthur'. Come on.

Also, it's pretty clear that Merlin cares about Arthur more than he cares about his destiny, throughout the entire show. But it culminates in this scene in series five where, because of very contrived plot reasons, Arthur has to choose between legalizing magic and saving the life of Mordred. And Merlin convinces Arthur not to legalise magic so that he will let Mordred die. He literally enables the genocide of his own people and condemns himself to a lifetime of suffering just on the off chance that he can spend a bit more time with Arthur.

And if that isn't heartbreaking enough, of course, every action that Merlin makes only confirms Arthur's fate. And after he very platonically dies in Merlin's arms, as dudebros do, what does Merlin do? does he go back to Camelot and live a full happy heterosexual life? Of course not. No, he spends the next one and a half thousand years just waiting at Arthur's resting place, waiting for the day that Arthur will be resurrected and they can be together again. What the fuck kind of Greek tragedy, Achilles and Patroclus level shit is that? That is fucking gay.

#this is so fucking long omg sorry #consider this series as a masterpost of all of my ramblings #merlin #merlance #merwaine #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin meta #the magic of metaphor

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katsune-nya · 1 year

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Tokyo Revengers Romantic and Sexual Orientations Headcanons.

Part 1.

Contains: Akkun, Takuya, Kazushi, Makoto, Shion, Angry, Smiley, Izana, Kakucho, Shuji, Tetta, Ryusei.

Akkun:

Straight or Bi. He doesn't care about what you are and is fully against gender norms, likes Drag Queens and Kings. Trans people's best friend.

Takuya:

Bi Bi Bi, he has to be bi, there's no other option. He doesn't care about labels though. Number one fan of NonBinary people.

Kazushi:

Gay. He's gay. Maybe Bi. Falls in love quickly and gets a new Crush every week. He stalks all your social media to know what you like and try to get you to like him.

Makoto:

PAN. HE'S PAN AND HE'S A SLUT. No game though, 30yo virgin. He thinks everyone's hot. Is all talk but if you flirt with him you can see Windows shutting down.

Shion:

Gay probably. Might be bi. He's WEAK. Loves people being a little mean to him, bully him, he'll cum.

Angry:

Gay or Pan. He likes sweet people that take care of him but don't baby him too much. If you can deal with his brother he already likes you.

Smiley:

A whore. Unlabelled. He likes people who he can banter with. Don't make his brother sad or you will die. Likes people who are a little mean but genuinly kind.

Izana:

AroAce Spec. He doesn't really care. He's a bit afraid of falling in love, he doesn't want to trust, be vulnerable and get hurt.

Kakucho:

Straight? Pan? I honestly don't know with him. He just doesn't get involved with dating because he's too busy and is very shy with those things. Show him you care and he might just fall regardless of what you are.

Shuji:

He's such an homosexual. He's Gay, Fully. Very small chance of him being bi, he likes men. So in love with Tetta it's embarrassing, pathetic even. Just why.

Tetta:

Unlabelled. He's into people. But rarely. AroAce Spec but has Obsessive Love Disorder. His brain is just a fucking mess. Not homophobic, he hates everyone the same 💞. Homophobic towards Shuji cause it's fun to make him suffer. (Gives me Homophobic Gay™ vibes).

Ryusei:

Pan. He's not interested in dating though. He's another one that's all talk. He doesn't care about labels, he just finds people attractive and goes with it. Had a crush on Keisuke. Wants Fuyu. Don't argue with me on this.

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groovybun-png · 10 months

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xilam gaslighting us by putting miss betty to be "ever men's dream girl"(no hate to her tho she girlboss) to prove that the Daltons are straight but they like have only five episodes were they actually flirt with her and the rest of the show is them being like:

Like I'd actually pay anyone 10000$ who has a heterosexual explanation for these clips. oh and if i had a coin for everytime the prison director had fallen for the Daltons in woman's dressing, then I'd have TWO fucking coins :

(the whole episode was just him trying to rizz joe and after joe reveal himself the director say's "it's ok nobody's perfect " in Congleton BISEXUAL men real)

(poor Averell he looks very traumatized )

and them also being drag queens

Even though it's mostly Averell and joe (jack in some comics) being gay and William being the only brother who flirts with girls even if they don't need them in plans and the one who tries to get miss Betty's attention in those episodes and seem to have chemistry, i might claim the Daltons as bisexuals but for the matter my point stand still:

NOT A SINGLE LUCKY LUKE CHARACTER IS STRAIGHT ‼️💯🗣️🏳️‍🌈

I'm gonna make the grown ups on insta get upset with this post 😈

Not to mention an episode from lucky luke series called "cuff love" like umm hello???? Sounds like kinky shit is about to happen lol

#anon you're so real for this #lucky luke #the daltons

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alfalfapie · 1 year

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Dean at Pride the first year: there because Charlie, Sam, Eileen, Jack, and Cas were going and he didn’t wanna be at home alone Dean at Pride year 2: getting into it, wearing a bi pin, went to one gay bar and then left Dean at Pride year 3: flirting with every drag queen (Cas gets mad so he stops), flag draped across his shoulders, all the free pamphlets and pins, doing all the chants in the parade, the happiest anyone had seen him in months and the outfits? year 1: red flannel, black shirt, blue jeans, usual boots. very boring, straight passing, but lots of men hit on him much to Cas’s chagrin year 2: subtle pride shirt, maybe some eyeliner year 3: cowboy outfit. fringe, boots, hat, the whole 9 yards. very clubbing appropriate, even if he leaves after an hour to spend the night with Cas (Cas loved the outfit if u catch my drift ;) ).

#destiel #supernatural #spn #dean is bi #bi dean #lgbtq #lgbt fiction #lgbtqplus #lgbtqiia+#dean and cas #dean winchester

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glitterparpaing · 1 year

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ok dip queer related headcanons bc im tired of doing all the gay work around here and i need my delusions to be recognized

NEVILLE

first off i like to think of him as gay and not bi, bc sure he had a crush on florence and an evil gf but like i, too, pretended i had a crush on florence bc she’s gorgeous but i just liked her like i liked lady gaga (and for the evil gf part..... idk it just makes sense)

but he could be bi!!! i don’t have anything against it i just hc him as gay

is used to being made fun of for his allergies and very autistic traits and thought for decades that his homosexuality was just the same weird ol stuff, something that society tolerates as long as he finds a way to hide it

catherine somehow ends up telling him about it and he denies it until she puts him straight in front of the facts

doesn’t want to admit it bc f*ck no he already has too many personal issues

hopeless romantic, once he gets over it

thinks it would be easier to flirt with men bc he is truly attracted to them but he is EVEN MORE OF A MESS if it’s even possible

CATHERINE

she is 10000% a pure ally she LOVES queer ppl

i don’t think she’s queer herself tho??? there’s a good chance she tried it but i think she just loves men too much

she watches drag race and her favorites are the weird queens, try changing my mind on this one JUST TRY

she helps organize the st-marie pride parade every year and gives water bottles and hugs to every kid she can get her hands on (with consent of course)

a huge mother figure for all queer kids on the island (maybe i am projecting a bit on this one but like. am i wrong?)

MARLON

at first he was one of the bros so he wasn’t really open to it :/

it went away!! i like to think he also got a trans gf at some point

definitely straight but an ally!

wants to show supports but has no idea how (example: going up to a lesbian and saying stuff like "so like.... women amirite?? what do u like in women? personally i looove their hips")

not into politics but if a queer friend tells him to search information on something he will do it 100% no questions asked if it can make them more comfortable

NAOMI

wlw she/they queen

aren’t all naomi’s she/they queens anyway

very calm but will absolutely riot if necessary

maybe a lesbian?? i haven’t yet decided (and idk if she has a canon bf in the series i don’t remember)

FLORENCE

bisexual and i’m not sorry

has only dated men her whole life and is TIRED

loves to educate those around her but wishes people would LEARN by themselves instead sometimes (was probably annoyed by marlon at some point)

has a whole other queer life back in paris

DWAYNE

i feel like he is bi-curious like rn he likes women but u know i don’t think he necessarily shyed away from novelty back in his 20s

by novelty of course i mean men

i don’t. i don’t have much else to add lol im just gay and have daddy issues so like....... yeah

this is it for now, i don’t know the other characters as much as i do them but maybe i’ll do others!!

#death in paradise #dip #queer headcanons #mine #i feel SO WEIRD for doing that omg #like booooh look at that gay loser #trying to justify his rarepair by desperately sticking queer hc’s on a low-quality absolutely straight show #i feel delusional #but oh well don’t we all amirite #anyway sorry friends

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medicetwork · 2 years

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How the mercs found out they were gay Pt.1

These are my own headcanons about how the mercs found out they were gay. They’re all gay asf and if you dont think so that’s gay erasure-

Medic:

He always knew he was a little different, in more ways than one. It didn’t take long for him to learn that he favored men over women. He never felt bad about himself, not even with the knowledge that it could get him killed if he made that fact about himself known. He’s proud of who he is, and always has been. Always will be.

Many a homophobe has gone missing by his hand.

Sniper:

He doesn’t remember when he realized he liked men, if he had to guess it was some time in his late teens. He doesn’t care what any one really think of it. Why are they so worried about what goes down in his bedroom? Weirdos. The problem lies with this parents. It’s just another thing for this to be on his case about- not in a hateful way but being asked when he’s going to settle down with a wife and kids because they “forgot” he was gay again is very tiring.

Soldier:

I hc that Soldier lost his memory and went crazy after a very serious car accident. In addition, before the accident and memory loss he had no interest in men but in recent years- more specifically after starting work with Mann.Co. He’s realized he’s bisexual. Or pansexual? GODDAMN IT HE DOESN’T HAVE TIME FOR ALL THESE COMMIE LABELS. It was mostly after living with all these other men that he realized he may have a thing for other men. He went to medic thinking it was some kind of illness causing him to stutter and get hot whenever Demoman walked by but after some reassurance and explanation he realized it’s perfectly normal.

30 minutes after that conversation he proposed to Demoman.

Engie:

Engie comes from Texas and was raised by christians with strong family values. Their ideal family was a nuclear family with a white picket fence and cute puppy dog. Wife, husband, kids. That’s it. But somewhere into his college years he…made some decisions and one thing led to another and he had a boyfriend for a short time. Redhead guy that he sat next to in math club. He was cute and funny and oh my god what will mama think? They only lasted like 5 months before the redhead realized he didn’t like men as much as he once thought and that was that.

Engie has never told anyone that he’s gay, not his family and will only tell friends if they ask. This being said, he isn’t ashamed of himself he just doesn’t want to deal with the fallout this might cause between him and his family. So he’s Dell, The perfectly straight straightman that loves women and totally didn’t just kiss that Spy.

Heavy:

His realization is probably the most recent besides one other. He realized he was gay when he and Medic became friends. He can’t even describe why he loves the doctor so much but he does, more than he’s loved anyone besides his family. In Russia he would probably be in serious danger but he’s not there and he’s not going back any time soon. Luckily, his family doesn’t mind this. His sisters were very excited to learn he’d found someone he loved and are already making them marriage arrangements.

Spy:

Spy found himself having a strange attraction to the other boys in spy training when he was a young lad. He never thought much of it, he never acted on it and he kept it to himself. It wasn’t a fact about himself that he thought ever mattered. He has a job to do. In recent years he’s acted on it, had one night stands and flirted in male strip clubs and even has a few old friends that are drag queens. He doesn’t have pride for who is he but it’s only because he doesn’t think it matters all that much.

Many homophobes have died by his hand.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 solly #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 pyro #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper

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bookio · 1 year

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Block Him! (2022) by Kajsa Gordan and Sofia Nordin

I like Sofia Nordin books so picked this one blindly. Maybe this is a series surrounding a character named Zeke because of the huge name on the cover? But this book is confusingly not about him, but told from the eyes of his girlfriend Mona. Zeke works at a hotel and Mona is invited to temporarily jump in as a substitute for some extra cash. Her work area is the private pool rooms, where she serves beer and towels for the visitors. When she serves two drunk men who's in their 40's - she's 16 - one of them get really really attached and think her polite customer service is flirting.

This man starts showing up outside the hotel even after he and his friends checked out. He even shows up outside her high school, and eventually gets a hold of her cellphone number. He's super creepy!! Zeke is NO help, instead he gets annoyed and paranoid that Mona is having a secret relationship with this "older man", like dude gross.

She eventually is able to prove that she only continue to be polite towards this man because she's scared of how he will react. He could get violent since he seem unstable. The teenage couple finds another girl who has been harassed by this exact man too, and the trio start stalking him back. They find out he has a normal married family life, with children of his own! But they also notice that he has a secret boat, where he runs off to hide like a "man cave". One night they see him lure a young girl to his boat to "show her something cool", and she's too shy to say No.

When the trio breaks into the boat, the man has already started to undress the distressed girl and they save her. I can't remember if they decides to call the police or just run away but it ends with them celebrating their heroic bravery!

Definitely could relate to this story of having to be polite because of professional policy and how some men take this as some invitation to flirt. Very stressful! Least favorite character in this book was Zeke, he was so unsupportive when Mona needed him the most. She had to fight for her own safety AND the image set upon her by her loved ones! I felt so sorry for her, scary. 3/5 stars.

- - - - -

The Liminal Zone (2022) by Junji Ito

Four short horror manga stories made for "Line Manga App" i think as a collaboration? Even so, Ito continues to write and draw interesting stories despite his long long long creative career, one would worry he would run out of ideas! A woman is unable to stop crying and in search for a cure, she and her boyfriend stumble upon a hidden village where all the female inhabitants are constantly crying. This is because they are connected to the souls of weeping deceased. Our MC woman is shedding a ridiculous amount of tears, and is taken to the body of the village weeping queen. Upon her presence the rotten body of the queen start flooding of ghost tears, until it's completely turned to mush. Horrified by this, the boyfriend drag his girlfriend away from the village. However, weeks go by and she still can't stop crying. They break up and eventually she die of exhaustion. Her body keeps crying and during her funeral ceremony, the weeping women comes and steal her body away to bring to their village.

The next story is about another straight couple also traveling. These two are to find a suitable spot to take their own lives together, since the male is dying of cancer. But to their surprise, they witnesses a forest phenomenon, where a white light suddenly merges from a cave and shoots through a line of trees. Completely smoothing the trees down with friction like a lean naked bunch of woods. Since the man is dying anyway, he decided to jump into the mysterious windy river next time it shows. Horrified the gf watches and later find her bf in one of the trees, looking healthier. Smoother. His cancer (along with his clothes) has been frictioned off by "licking souls" that pass by rapidly. The girlfriend is starving and decides to return to the city while the man stays to continuously jump into the now called "soul river". Next time she returns, her bf is now thin and long like one of the frictioned down trees. He has a new friend who also came to kill himself but now been frictioned down. The girlfriend decides to jump into the river too, but unlike the others she flows with the river back to the cave. The smooth bf and his friend enters the cave for the first time, only to be met by serval disfigured humans and learn there hasn't been souls pacing by, but a bunch of suuuper thin humans flying/running a lap, licking their way frenetically.

Third story is about a catholic boarding school for girls where the only male priest is a pedo and his mistress is actually a witch that can turn people into salt? I honestly don't get it.

The last story is about a young man who's dreams been walking the streets in perspective of a murderer. In his dream he can see POV killing people in alleys, only to learn the next day they actually happened. Then things start to appear in his apartment that links him to the murders? He ask his family to keep an eye on him if he's sleepwalking, but turns out he doesn't - but the dreams and murders still happen! He later figures out a serial killer has connected his mind to his and been planting evidence in his apartment to make him believe he's the murderer? Really really weird, i don't get it and i can't remember how it ended. I think the murderer just died or something....

Overall feeling was alright, not too spooky! 3/5 stars

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miralain · 6 years

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tatianna x katya

See me with them hands…

While I haven’t watched AS2 , I absolutely love them and their friendship. They just seemed to get along right off the bat and Katya’s little mini obsession with her in 2016 was so cute…Tati adores Katya and I love it.

katya voice: the most beautiful woman....

#cute and hot #i love it #they co own the same parts #queens of flirting with straight men in drag #Anonymous

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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You write fenrys so well 🥺

Can I request something for him falling in love with a lady who works in a library and is friends with aelin and he keeps finding excuses to visit the library and one day they realize they’re mates ? Can you plz include alot of longing looks & touched and his friends noticing ?

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: drinking, small argument, mainly fluff

a/n: kay so it's been a hot MINUTE since I've posted and I am sorry my loves, also I comepletely modified this but I hope you still like it, comment and shiz pls it really helps with writers block lol <33

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You had met Aelin sometime after the war. She had been wandering around town a couple days after the coronation, smiling at children and waving at the elderly, observing the way the town was slowly filling again, people returning home now it was safe. There weren’t many people about however, it just being seven in the morning.

She had walked past a shop then. It was small and rickety, the door barely on its hinges as a girl fought with it, swearing like a sailor.

“Do you need some help?” she asked, moving to stand beside the girl. You screamed instantly, jumping out of your skin at her sudden appearance, having not heard anyone coming due to how absorbed you were in your job. Aelin screamed when you screamed, and it left the two of you staring at each other with wide eyes before you fell apart in fits of laughter.

You stood from where you had bent to clutch your stomach, wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down.

“Jeez you fucking gave me a heart attack,” you laughed as she apologised, still giggling behind her hand. You then turned, hands on your hips as you glared at the door of your shop.

“Rude men should be put down,” you muttered and Aelin was laughing again.

“That I can get behind,” she said as you opened it, giving up on fixing it completely, Aelin gasping when she saw the inside.

“You have a bookshop!” she exclaimed, and you laughed.

“Had, now I just have dusty books and a broken door. It was my mother’s before…” you trailed off and Aelin put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and you shrugged.

“It’s fine, it was ages ago anyway,” you stepped further into the shop, going to the large window up front and tugging of the white sheet that obscured it from light. “However, this shop isn’t dead yet so might as well get it done.”

Aelin looked around the shop, the paper on the walls was peeling, the paint on the shelves cracked and the books covered in a fine layer of dust. “Damn, where do we start?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves and grinning at you when you whirled around, frowning at her.

“Doesn’t the queen have better things to do?” you asked, and she shrugged, laughing at your bewildered expression.

“I’m sure my husband will cope.” You gave her an unsure look at that, and she laughed, “He’s competent.”

“If you say so.”

“If you knew I was queen you really have no fear of authority do you?” she asked as you started pulling books down and pilling them onto the sheet you just pulled off the window.

“Respect is earned, plus you’re the one who made me shit myself.” She laughed again, smiling widely, and helping you take down more books as she realised this was the most she had laughed since the war ended.

The worked all day. First removing the books and putting them upstairs in the rundown apartment you lived in, filled with plants, blankets, and somehow even more books. Next the repainted the shelves, setting them outside to dry while they re-wallpapered the walls and cleaned the floor until it was shining.

When the sky got darker you swore as you realised neither of you had eaten all day, going up to your new friend and asking her what she wanted for dinner.

“I make really good pasta,” you had suggested, and she had nodded enthusiastically as you went upstairs to your apartment, drinking wine as you cooked together. As you ate on the floor, drinking yet another bottle of wine, this time straight from the bottle Aelin asked about your past.

You assured her it was relatively normal, asides from the whole ‘evil tyrant thing’ as you put it. You talked together for hours, going back downstairs, and bringing the now dry, sage green shelves back in and putting all the books away, setting them in categories.

Hours later Aelin decided to go home, not wanting to worry so much and she opened the still broken door, the both of you laughing as you realised you had forgotten a pretty integral part.

“Hey, you could just name the shop, ‘the broken door’,” she suggested, and you smiled.

“That would work.”

When Aelin got home she was met with a concerned Rowan, asking where she had been all day.

She smiled at him, pausing before answering, “I think I have a new best friend.”

Rowan frowned at that, “And what brings you to that conclusion?”

“Today was the first time I’ve laughed since…” she trailed off as silence fell at the thought of their past few months, Rowan then bringing her in for a hug.

“You know this means I have to meet her too then,”

“Nope my best friend get your own.” She shoved him playfully, falling asleep next to him that night with a smile on her face.

They went to see you the next morning and Aelin laughed when she saw your dishevelled state.

“Did you sleep?” she asked when she walked into the shop and found signs put up and plants dotted around the room as you sat on the floor, drinking a coffee that smelt so strong she almost gagged, much preferring sweeter tastes.

“Sleep is for the weak!” you said, half-heartedly raising your hand.

“And what’s with all the plants?” Rowan asked, frowning as he almost walked into another and you sat up straighter, glaring at him.

“What you too good for plants?” you asked your hands moving over-exaggeratedly as you got to your feet. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just a stinky man,” you whispered to the plants and Aelin laughed at her husbands offended face.

You stood and started walking upstairs, your feet dragging as you went to get breakfast. You heard them follow you and you pushed open the door to your flat.

You had even more plants up here and Rowan rolled his eyes as you moved to open the large windows, letting in fresh air, you then moved about making pancakes, mixing enough for the three of you and adding blueberries when you were finished.

You cooked them up while chatting idly with Aelin and Rowan, only receiving a small amount of judgement when Aelin discovered you didn’t actually have a bed and instead just a mattress on the floor with a sheet for warmth and some soft pillows. Your house was newly decorated, art hung on the walls, plants and candles decorating every surface.

“Tea, coffee, water, vodka?” you offered them drinks and Aelin whined.

“No vodka, we had too much wine last night,” you laughed at that as you served up coffee and pancakes.

“Yeah we’ll have to go properly drinking some night,” you muttered, Rowan chuckling under his breath and nodding in agreement.

The three of you ate the rest of your food, laughing and joking together and Rowan really noticed the difference in Aelin’s manner. She hadn’t been truly comfortable or at ease in months, always looking over her shoulder, but now she sat laughing with her friend and Rowan wanted to thank you a million times over for bringing her back out of her shell.

Since you first met Aelin you were meeting up almost every day, discussing books over tea and hanging out at your shop, or drinking from expensive glasses in her castle while trying on elaborate dresses. Soon you were practically apart of the family, but that didn’t stop the confusion Fenrys felt when he walked into the castle and found a young girl sleeping on Aelins’ bed, a book opened but abandoned on her chest.

He tentatively walked forward so he could see her more clearly and felt his heart clench when his eyes fall upon her peaceful face, her eyes closed, and hair spread around her head like a halo. He was about to reach a hand out to brush a strand of hair from her soft hair when he heard the door open, turning to see Aelin run in, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Fenrys I didn’t know you were back,” she said when she pulled back, bouncing on the soles of her feet excitedly and he laughed.

“Are you going to explain why there’s a girl in your bed, or do I need to break some news to Rowan,” he joked and she shoved his shoulder before moving to the bed and shaking the girl awake.

“It’s just (y/n),” she explained as the girl huffed and rolled away from Aelin.

“Ah of course this person who I definitely knew existed,” Aelin stuck her finger up at him as he laughed, unable to stop his eyes from trailing back to her.

He watched as she breathed in deeply, her eyes opening slowly as she took him in, before she pulled her covers up to over her chin and frowned at him and Aelin with a small pout.

“I was having the best dream every asshole,” she complained and Fenrys smiled as she sat up on her elbows and reached a hand out to him to shake, introducing herself. He brushed the shake of and instead brought her hand to his mouth pressing a kiss to the back of it as sparks show through her skin at the sensation.

“I’m Fenrys, ambassador of Terrasen,” he smiled cheekily as she shrunk away slightly, nerves taking over her, “hope to see you around more.”

He left, pressing a quick kiss to Aelin’s temple, and winking at you as Aelin moved over to you with wide eyes.

“Aelin…” you started as she squealed.

“He was totally flirting with you! You would be such a cute couple, please, please ask him out I need you two to get married and have to worlds prettiest babies!” she was bouncing in hr seat as you moved to shut her up.

“Okay ONE, I just met him. And TWO, he was far too pretty for me,” you said and Aelin frowned.

“Nope, nope you are incorrect, and he is going to fall in love with you,” she demanded, and you laughed, kicking her with your foot.

“Mhm sure.”

The next few days, Fenrys was coming to your shop every day. He would bring chocolates and flowers some days, or coffee and pastries other days. Always dropping them off with a smile, before lounging in the plush, green chair in the corner of the shop and talking to you for hours. He has also started coming to your and Aelin’s weekly cocktail night, wrapping his arm around your shoulder’s and laughing drunkenly into your neck as you told stories.

However, through all this you remained ‘friends’. He would press kisses to your cheek and hands, keep an arm slung around your waist when men came to speak at you at bars and primarily referred to you using pet names and rarely ever your actual name. And it was getting frustrating.

You were having to start putting genuine effort to not kiss him every time you had a drink and he sat extra close to you. Or when you were invited to parties, and he moved smoothly through the countless questions asking if you were dating.

And while you revelled in the attention it was tearing at your heart slightly as insecurities told you that he would never actually be interested in you. You wanted to scream at him every time he kissed you but wanted to melt into him every time he hugged you, your brain constantly at battle with itself when he was near.

You knew you were due to explode any time soon. So when you were out one night and he was holding you extra close, you pulled away, muttering an excuse about getting another drink.

Standing at the bar as you waited you rested you head in your hands for a second before you saw a man begin to approach you. He was attractive, not like Fenrys, but honestly you would take anything to get your mind of him at the moment, so you smiled at him, tilting your head.

“What’s a doll like you doing all alone?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly, unlike the smooth, deep timbre you were used to, but you just laughed.

“Waiting for a man to not dehumanise me,” you bit back, and he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, what would you prefer?” he flirted, sidling up closer to you as you turned to face him.

“Can’t go wrong with ma’am,” you joked, and he laughed, looking down and shaking his head, only to look back up, his eyes going wide. You felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist and looked up to see Fenrys, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as he glared at the man in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice deep and full of authority, the man in front of you shrinking under his gaze.

“Shit sorry man, didn’t realise she had a boyfriend,” he apologised and this time you did roll your eyes.

“He’s not my-“ you began but Fenrys cut you off.

“Yeah she does, so back the fuck off.” You looked down as he spoke, shaking your head as tears of frustration built in your eyes. You harshly pulled out of his grip, leaving the bar as quickly as you could, wiping away the escaped tears as you heard Fenrys follow after you, shouting your name.

You whirled around when you got outside, your glare murderous.

“You do not get to do that!” you shouted as he moved closer to you.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry,” he began but you cut him off.

“NO! I am not your girlfriend! You have never once asked me to be so you don’t get to try scare away any guy that might have genuine interest in me!” his shoulders slumped as you spoke. Truthfully, he has been working up the courage to ask you out for months, and while he knew it was unfair how he treated you, he couldn’t help himself. He was addicted. He thought of you constantly, the texture of your skin, the smell of your hair, the way your eyes lit up and the way you moved your hands as you spoke. So when he saw you engage with the man that had the audacity to talk to you, his grip tightened on his glass so much it shattered, ignoring the worried looks from Aelin and Rowan as he stomped over to you.

“(y/n) listen, I’ve been an asshole I know,” he raised his hands, tentatively stepping towards you, “But I really care about you, and I want to be yours.”

You laughed bitterly, “You’re just saying that.”

He shook his head vehemently, stepping closer to you again and wrapping his arms around your shoulders so gently, one would think you were made of glass.

“I love you darling, please be mine,” he said into your hair, and you pulled back, looking up at him through glassy eyes before nodding slightly.

“I love you Fenrys,” he smiled down at you before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against your mouth, pouring his heart into the action. You gasped slightly as your lips met and he smiled widely against your mouth as the bond clicked into place.

“You know this means I now have an excuse to break the nose of any man that talks to you,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, shoving at his shoulder gently.

“I’m still annoyed at you,” you muttered, and his eyes darkened.

“Well I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #throne of glass

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x-reader-theater · 3 years

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Criminal Minds Sexuality Headcannons!!!

Hotch: Bi. When he and Haley separated in college for a time he dated some men and actually fell in love with one of them. But no one compares to Haley. Well, until after loll. But there's a couple scenes where he's flirting with men, and that one episode Tommy Gibby directed with the drag queens is literally bisexual Hotch.

Rossi: The token straight but supports all of his gay coworkers. He'll put a rainbow flag in his office when Garcia comes out, and if anyone is being homophobic on a case he is the first to step up and talk to them in private. He's quiet in his support but he's very supportive.

Morgan: Bi but it's really hard to find a guy that he likes. He can find women he's interested in everywhere but his preferences for men are very specific, but not impossible, and so he finds men he goes home with and has sex with, and has dated a few but prefers to have casual sex rather than date.

Prentiss: Lesbian. Need I say more? Literally every relationship with a man she has in the show fizzles out.

Greenaway: Lesbian. Again, do I need to say anything else? If Elle and Emily were on the team together at the same time, they would probably hook up regularly and then Emily would catch feelings and Elle would run.

JJ: Show JJ; She's a PTA mom who's homophobic.

Fandom JJ; Bi and in love with Emily. Lemontits is just a formality for their son. I really don't like Will loll

Reid: In the show; Biromantic. Literally the idea of sex disgusts him. I mean, all those germs! And the sweat! Gross. Kissing is nice tho. He'll have relationships but is totally asexual and found that out when done girl he was kissing in his third college tried to stick her hands down his pants, and found him not sexually attracted to her at all.

In fandom: This boy is a straight hoe. He's probably had more sex than Derek. That, or he's had a little sex, but the times he had it, he really likes it. Sexually he's always a bottom but sometimes during BDSM scenes he likes to take control and be in control for once since a lot of the time he feels like his life is out of his control.

Gideon: Aro Ace. Had a relationship once because he thought that's what he was supposed to do and has sex once for that same reason. It resulted in a son and he never wants to have a relationship or sex again. He likes having friends, that's why he insists to Hotch over and over that "It's not a date!" but he did a lot of things when he was younger because he thought that's how it should be, but he realizes now that he can do whatever he wants and he really doesn't care if someone likes him. He doesn't like them.

Garcia: Pansexual Non-Binary. Uses They/She pronouns because of course she does. Also, she loves everyone and everyone is hot to her. She literally finds everyone on the team super attractive and would date any if them if they asked. She is attracted to all genders equally, and doesn't have a preference towards men, women, or non-binary lovers and partners.

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #david rossi #jason gideon #elle greenaway #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #criminal minds #my headcannon #criminal minds headcanons #sexuality headcannon #jemily

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mystic-sky · 3 years

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A/N: In honor of reaching 400 followers, I decided to make this into a short series. I don’t know how many parts it’ll be. Thank you guys for reading my stuff and showing me love 🥺💕 you’re all so sweet 😭😭😭😭😭 I would also like to thank @teoran for the precious idea that allowed this story to come to be ❤️❤️

✨Part 2 here✨ | ✨Part 3/4 on ao3 only✨

“So, you’ve never actually been here before?” Suguru let out an annoyed sigh as his best friend draped his arm over his shoulders.

“No, but I heard this is one of the nicer ones.” Satoru says. “Besides, none of them are hard to look at.”

“I would’ve been content going out to dinner with everyone else-

“Lighten up! You do that all the time. You’re single so why not spoil yourself a little?” The white haired male insisted.

“Stuff like this feels degrading, and some of them are topless.” Suguru really hasn’t been to a strip club before. He wasn’t a prude, but surely his respect for women had him steer clear of places like this.

“Yeah— strippers do that sometimes.” Satoru laughed, taking hold of his drink.

“And it’s not degrading- they’re hard working women. Stop talking like an old man and enjoy the show.” He added, respectfully. Suguru took a sip of his drink, watching a new dancer approach the platform. A sweet, caramel skinned girl had taken the stage, swaying around the pole in front of them.

“This is Tasty.” Someone over the loud speaker introduced her. “We recommend Tasty for new comers. She’s a bubbly, friendly dancer who feels like the girl next door. Tasty is currently ranked 3rd in our private dancer line up for this week.

“Look at her,” Satoru said, pulling his lip between his teeth. “That’s Tasty. I heard so many good things about her. She’s so much more petite and cuter in person.”

Suguru only nonchalantly took another drink, but he was definitely looking. The tan skinned girl wrapped her body around the pole, delicately twisting herself right in front of the both of them. After shaking her ass for a bit, she moved down the stage, dancing for other customers.

“I’ve got so much cash on me, Suguru-chan~! We’re gonna have so much fun.” He nudges his barely flustered friend.

“And try not to look so serious, before you scare the ladies away.” He rolled his eyes underneath his dark sunglasses.

“You think I’m scary looking?” Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah but in a sexy way.” Satoru leant forward, almost touching noses with the dark haired male. He really had no regards for personal space.

“Wait til the girls find out you’re a huge softy underneath.” Satoru laughed.

The tan stripper on the stage descended down the steps, wrapping up her routine and passing the two of them. Satoru pulled his shades down, winking at the girl, and handing her a generous tip. He watched her swoon a bit before running off, bra full of singles.

“Candy, you’re on next.” Tasty called out to you as she entered the locker rooms. You were intently positioning your false lashes on in the mirror. You heard all the girls bustling on about some attractive men who were tipping nicely tonight as you got ready.

You hum in response, bending down and adjusting your straps on your shoes.

“He winked at me, he winked at me!!!!” Tasty said, fawning with the other girls who were peaking out the doorway.

“Girl, you have to see this. They’re the hottest guys I’ve ever seen.” Tasty cooed at you.

“They’re so tall. I got so shy and ran off. I’m sure the one with the sunglasses was flirting with me. I’m gonna go give him a dance, I just needed time to collect myself.” The tanned skinned girl held her cheeks in her hand as she spoke.

“Tasty’s got a crush hmmm?” You say smugly before standing up straight. You look at the hundred dollar bill sticking out of her bra amongst the many singles. You raise an eyebrow at her before you take both of your breasts in your hands, doing a jiggle test to see if they’d pop out your body suit.

“You’ll have a crush too as soon as you see them.” Tasty rolls her eyes. You’re barely intrigued. You’d been infatuated with the same man since high school, and no one could compare to him.

Granted, the both of you weren’t actually dating, nor do you believe he had any idea about your affections or actually reciprocated them. He would occasionally flirt with you, but do not be mistaken— he was a complete asshole. You often rejected his advances, telling him to fix his off putting attitude. This led him to tease and mess with you more, but he still loves to do his best to get you flustered all the while. You couldn’t date someone who lacked so much compassion. But even so, every time you saw him, your knees went weak.

You were partially rejecting him because you were also a busy woman, and you barely had time to fraternize with him the way you wanted to during your day job. When you both were younger and went to school at the academy, he actively made you feel like you were losing to him because he was such a prodigy. Being on his team really sucked because even though you were producing proficient results, standing beside him only made you look just above average.

“Let’s see what this is all about.” You say, strutting towards the huddle your co workers created in the hall. You worm your way through, getting a glimpse of the two men that had everyone’s hormones in a frenzy.

“Oh no.”

You watched as the white haired narcissist threw his head back in laughter, conversing flirtatiously amongst the other waitresses and dancers that crowded around him.

Fucking Gojo Satoru.

“Oh no, no, no.”

Impossible. You were upset that you’d know that laugh of his anywhere. Not to mention his hair made him stick out like a sore thumb.

The only person who knew of your double life was Shoko. And Shoko wouldn’t tell a soul.

Beside Satoru was a seemingly mellow Geto Suguru, grinning softly towards all of the women around them.

You sought death. That was the only way out of this situation- on a stretcher, covering your face and body and keeping your anonymity.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, squatting all the way down to the floor and crawling back into the locker room, praying not to be seen.

“Candy, girl, are you okay?” Your stage manager peered down at you as you slumped behind the love seat in the corner.

“Those guys out there— the two of them work at my day job.” You mutter, burying your face into your knees.

“You know them?!” Tasty interjects.

“Unfortunately,” you nodded. “And the white haired one likes to mess with me a lot.”

“You wanna go home early?” Your manager asks. You had bills to pay, and but quite honestly, one day wouldn’t hurt.

But for some reason you couldn’t help but feel like you’d be allowing him to win somehow by doing that. It was silly- he had no idea of your existence here so this was hardly considered a competition. But this was your space, and you refused to be forced to cower within it.

You stand up, scanning the room for something unique to wear.

“I’m not letting that bastard ruin my bag. I’m getting my money tonight.” You sway towards the vanity, discovering a silk blindfold with eye sockets. You wrap the cloth around your eyes, adjusting it so you can see properly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” You say confidently, fluffing your hair in the mirror. Besides, it’s only one night, you thought.

You walk out of the prep room, walking towards the steps of the stage. You walked right past the two of them, feeling so many eyes on you as you slowly ascended the stairs.

Both their heads shifted towards you, the sound of pre-cheers and compliments from regular customers ringing with your every step.

“This is Candy.” The host spoke into the loudspeaker. “All the boys want a piece of her. She’s the sweetest dancer here, and she’ll make you forget all your troubles with her playful smile. This week, Candy currently ranks number one in our private dancer line up.”

You were above the two gentleman who were posted up in the front of the stage. Just how did these fuckers find this place? You looked down at the two of them, like a queen looking towards her subjects. You started your routine, smiling your signature smile just like you always did. You wrapped your hands around the pole, swinging your body. The cheers and music rang through your ears. Dollars were being thrown at you, but you were so distracted by two of them.

The both of them had been eyeing you just like everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel self conscious anyways. You swayed your hips, swooping down elegantly to pick up some of the money while you danced, offering winks to some gentlemen in the crowd. Your eyes caught on Satoru, whose sunglasses were tilted slightly downwards. Your eyes nearly met, and you swiftly shifted your gaze towards Suguru. He really dragged you here, you thought. Poor Guru-san.

You watched as Satoru threw a generous wad of singles towards you. You refused to pick it up.

It was a 10 minute set before you would go around and flirt with other customers. You eventually collected your earnings before you gracefully walked down the steps, flipping your hair.

“Candy~” The bastard called out towards you.

You didn’t want to turn around, but you did anyway, breasts bouncing full of bounty.

“That’s for you,” he cheekily handed you a folded wad of cash. You felt the thickness of the money between your fingers. You almost wanted to give it back to him and walk away. Unfortunately, it was custom to lurk around customers who tipped that generously. Your eyes shifted towards Suguru, who had been subtly ogling your breasts.

“Thank you.” You smile plasticly, which you don’t normally do. You were typically and genuinely nice to customers. Most of them abided by the no touch rules and were decent.

“What brings you both here?” You say, leaning on the banister, breasts in full view.

“It’s my buddies birthday.” He grinned. “I wanted him to get a private dance with this weeks number one dancer, or Tasty, if she’s not too busy.”

Your eyes panned over to Suguru, who honestly didn’t look like he wanted a dance from you. You knew better though, not all customers were forward like that, so you didn’t take it personally whatsoever. You even contemplated going to get Tasty to take your place, but something in you made you want to dance near Satoru. Knowing you could rub your hot body in his face and he couldn’t touch you turned you on just a bit. You had no idea where this power complex of yours was stemming from.

“Sure,” he had already paid you more than what the dance costed. “So do you wanna stay out here or go for a private one? I’m fine with whatever, baby.”

You could’ve cringed at yourself, calling your childhood friend baby. You tucked the wad of cash into your body suit. There was enough money here to pay for either kind of dance, possibly two of them.

“I’m good actually.” Suguru says, taking a seat on the sofa. Your eye twitches a bit, and you looks towards Satoru.

“Sugu-chan’s just shy. He couldn’t stop talking about how good you looked.” The white haired male waved his hand. It must’ve been true, because the blush on Suguru’s face was something you could’ve burst out laughing at. Keep it together (Name), you thought.

He was so reserved and gentlemanly at work. You never would’ve guessed he could look this worked up about getting a dance from a beautiful woman. You sit beside him, crossing your legs.

“If what he said is true, thank you. I’ve done my best to perfect that routine.” You said proudly, shifting your body towards him. “Do you really not want a dance?” You ask again, completely ignoring Satoru, who had been going on about something.

Suguru shifted in his seat, and he was obviously trying not to look at your breasts when you squeezed them together with you arms like that.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind one.” He breathed out. You smiled at him before standing up and spreading his legs a bit. You danced in between them, while he laid back and admired you. Satoru sat on the other end of the couch while another dancer attempted to make a pass at him. He accepted her offering, tipping her nicely as well. While she danced for him, you could feel his eyes burning a hole through your back.

You whipped your ass a round, graciously showing Suguru what you had going on. You were feeling mortified on the inside considering he was your childhood friend. However, he was undoubtedly good looking. A little part of you found some sort of sweet satisfaction showing yourself to him like this. He didn’t seem to know it was you, casually sipping while he watched you do your thing.

Your eyes met Satoru’s, who had been peering at you through the body of your fellow dancer. He could feel himself getting aroused at your womanly form, shifting in his seat. He found it hard to focus on the lap dance he was getting from the lovely woman in front of him.

So this is what she’s really like, he thought to himself.

He had been staring for so long your were getting spooked. Did he realize it was you?

For God sake’s, please no.

He offered you a wink and smirked devilishly before going right back to giving his attention towards his current dancer. Your blindfold was your safety shield, and if he stripped that away from you, you would quit your day job and the go find work in a different club.

After some time, you and your partner finished, receiving generous tips yet again.

“Thank you Candy~” Satoru hummed, thanking you on Suguru’s behalf. You waved goodbye, before going towards a new set of customers. He never did stop staring at you that night. Not until you completely removed yourself from the floor. Once your shift was nearly over, and you needed a breather, you seeked refuge back in the prep room.

“I’m glad that’s over,” you sighed, sinking your body into one of many beauty chairs. You decided you had made enough money for the night, removing your blindfold and setting it down on the vanity. Tasty trailed in moments after, swooning excitedly.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, removing your earrings as well.

“I got the dark haired ones number.” Tasty squealed. You were happy for her, considering Suguru was always a decent guy growing up.

“He’s not bad,” you throw your head back, throwing your hair out of your face.

“It’s the other one I’m particularly wary of.” You say, attempting to tie your hair into a ponytail.

“Oh yeah! The white haired one told me to give this to you.” Tasty tore another piece of paper from her bralette.

You stared at the folded strip between her fingertips before anxiously grasping it with your own. You unfolded the thing, eye twitching in agitation.

Call me, if you want ;) XXX-XXX-XXXX

This motherfucker.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo smut

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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His Time

A/N: Here’s some jealous Jax smut based on a steamy request that I got! I had thought this would be 99% smut, but there’s also angst/fluff, as I wanted to set the stage more and explore their love. (Fellow Jax sluts, fear not – the sex is still filthy and hot!)

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, reader as a risque performer, recent breakup, jealous Jax, intense makeup sex when he comes back for her Request: Based on a scene from the movie Burlesque – Y/N is performing “Guy What Takes His Time” when Jax arrives with his friends; she doesn’t know he’s in the audience. Smut, jealous and a little fluff? – @rochyu (Note: I know that the movie is set in LA, but I wanted this fic to be set someplace farther from Charming, so I chose Chicago)

Word Count: ~2.9k

The lights are too bright. Always are, every night. You had come here to hide, from the girl you once were, with delusions of decency. Dignity. Pride.

It all happened so recently. Weeks ago you were still in the same town where you’d lived all your life—that town equal parts charming and shitty—with dreams of becoming the king’s wedded wife, his beloved old lady. Until you escaped to this faraway city.

You will always remember that night. One last screaming fuck, after your first screaming match of a fight. How you’d managed to keep love afloat, for so long on the rocks, without killing each other, you don’t even know. But the issues that you had both smothered in silence eventually had to explode. You will always remember just how hard you tried, to heal wounds that would never recover, to stay by his side. With no luck. You had hit the road, that very night, and the girl you once were—the fiercely faithful lover, future wife and mother... had faded and died.

Standing here now, about to perform without shame for the same nameless crowd, you tell yourself that you love Chicago. There is only one thing that you honestly love, though: the king of Charming, the impossible dream of blonde hair and black leather. Jackson Fucking Teller. And now that you’ve left him, you’ve lost him forever. Already it feels like forever ago.

You prepare for the spotlight, all ready to put on a show. The same show. Ever since you left home, this is what your whole life has become. At random, you lock eyes with the goodlooking guy who plays drums; once the show is done, maybe you’ll take him backstage for a fuck. Just to take your mind off of Jax’s unforgettable cock. You shudder to think of how many skanks Jax must’ve banged since you left him alone in his kingdom—a hundred? A thousand and one...?

The answer is none, though you don’t know it yet. In the time since you left, Jackson has barely slept. He has been on a hunt, for the only queen he’ll ever want; you had left him no clue as to where you had gone...

But he’s hunted you down. Like a damn bloodhound, tracked you from miles away, and he’s here in the crowd, as you take to the stage and the song starts to play. Determined not to lose what he’s finally found.

The song tonight is “Guy What Takes His Time.” His time is now.

***************

Fucking lights. They’re too bright.

He hates every damned inch of this place from the second he sets foot inside. Sources close to SAMCRO had advised this is where Jackson Teller’s old lady had run off to hide. And apparently sources were right.

How the hell did it come to this? Never in Jax’s life has he been so fucking pissed. He stands frozen in place between Opie and Chibs, the two Sons that he wanted to be by his side, as he crossed the whole country in search of the love that had vanished. The love of his life. Now that he has arrived, seeing you up on stage underneath these damn lights, he can’t handle the sight. The blood in his veins all at once turns to fire and ice.

Every gaze in this place is on you, as you come into view, barely wearing a thing as you start to sing under the spotlight. As if you have nothing to hide. As if every last inch of your skin was fashioned for the pleasure of strangers, to satisfy their prying eyes.

The sergeant-at-arms can’t believe what he sees, muttering quietly, looking over Jax’s shoulder where he’s standing close behind. No one thought this was what they would find. “Jesus Christ...”

“Do you mind? Look away,” the king snaps, quickly realizing that the men by his side deserve better. But the alpha male pride that he harbors inside feels about to collapse; in the moment, that’s all he could manage to say. “Listen, I—I can’t thank you enough that you both rode with me all this way, but it’s just... Jesus, everyone here’s looking up at her...”

Opie knows all too well just what Jax must be feeling tonight. Firsthand, he understands, just what it’s like to love a woman who is always on display for others. Lays a calm and steady palm on Jax’s shoulder, as the king shudders and smolders. “Sure thing, brother. We’ll wait up for you right outside.”

They step out, leaving Jax all alone in the crowd, where the lights are too bright and the music too loud. The whole room—no one more so than him—hanging on every word of the song, every line that feels so fucking wrong coming out of your mouth. The king’s entire world is crashing down on him tonight. Nothing has ever felt so wrong to him in his entire life of crime.

Oblivious to where he is, though on some level you can feel him, watching you from somewhere in the room... you tell yourself that can’t be right. It’s not the first truth you’ve denied. All through the night, lyrics fall from your brightly glossed lips like false promises, all meaning lost in the rhythm and rhyme.

I’d be satisfied... electrified... to know a guy what takes his time...

***************

Once you’d wrapped up the performance, you had whispered to the dashing boy who plays the drums to meet you in your dressing room. Sitting here alone, you wonder what is taking him so long. The two of you were flirting up a storm throughout the song—surely there’s no way that he doesn’t plan to come...?

One thing’s for certain: you for one intend to come, before the night is done. After the curtains fell, you’d had to take a moment just to catch your breath and calm yourself. Recover from the random wave of heat you felt. For some unfathomable reason, you had sensed some sort of energy from somewhere in the room, thrumming intensely in a way that made you desperate for an orgasm.

You don’t know where it came from, have no clue how to explain... so you try to convince yourself, in vain, that it was pure sexual tension with the guy who played the drums. Any second now, he’s bound to come and dick you the fuck down.

When at last someone enters your dressing room, you leap excitedly out of your seat like a damn clown in heat.

Heartbeat racing as you turn around, full of more than just lust as it pounds... Jesus Christ—you’ve been found. Those were not the blue eyes you expected to meet.

Your breath escapes you in a gasp. “Jax...!” your big fat mouth blurts out the question that you shouldn’t have to ask. “How did you find—”

He cuts you off. And fuck—that voice of his you’d missed so much, laden with sex and cigarette smoke, hits you now all kinds of ravenous and rough, and it’s just honestly divine. Already has you soaked. “You know I always find what’s mine.”

It isn’t fair, the way the dim light glimmers off his golden hair. The way that Jax Teller just standing there completely blows your mind. You curse the hell he never fails to put you through. “I don’t belong to...”

Cuts you off again. Because he can. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Did he honestly just ask you that? Of course he did. The stupid piece of shit. Even if you had been with anybody else, no man on earth could ever fuck you half as well, and you both know it’s fucking true. “What? Who?”

Jax takes a deep drag of his cigarette. Shaking his head, like he’s disgusted. As if he has any right to be. “That many? Now you can’t even keep count? I guess you like slutting around, this brand new fucking freedom that you’ve found?”

He can’t be serious? He can’t really be here at all, ruining you like this? You cross the room toward the farthest wall, hoping that he won’t see the tears that fall, the way you fear your self-respect and self-resolve are crashing down.

“How many. Tell me,” he demands. “What—you thought running off to some other city, you could just flirt your way into some other man’s pants, right up on stage flaunting your slutty ass in front of everybody, and I wouldn’t see?”

Well, shit—apparently he’s serious. But so are you. If he came here to play dirty, then that’s a game for two. And you’ll defend your dignity if it’s the last damn thing you do. “That’s not your business.”

Jax has now crossed the room toward you after putting out his cigarette; he grabs a firm hold of your wrist, his grip somehow soft yet insistent. “Like hell it isn’t.”

“Jackson, I am not your goddamn possession,” you tell him, wrenching yourself free from his fist, almost wishing that you’d fucked somebody if only to teach him a lesson. Almost. Tonight you had come awfully close. “Get your hands off me. You can’t—can’t just come here and claim me as if I’m a piece of lost property.”

The sound of that is more than he can stand; he slams you up against the wall, hard. Has you seeing fucking stars. Frames your face in his hands, as his gaze pierces straight to your heart. “You think that’s what you are to me? Honestly?”

“I don’t know what I am!” you scream back at him, matching his roar, your own voice raw and hoarse. “Who I am... I just... Jax, I don’t know—I don’t know a damn thing anymore.”

“Let me remind you, then. So you don’t ever forget again.” His mouth is fire as it suddenly descends, claiming your lips with more dominance and desire than you’ve ever felt before. There was no point ever pretending this was war. The fire that burns between the both of you is love and nothing more—so bright it strikes you blind, so dirty that it’s pure. “You’re fucking mine. And I am yours.”

Not long ago today, you had felt sure that ever since you ran away, Jax must have fucked a hundred thousand other whores.

Now this... from just one kiss, you know the opposite is true. You’ve never felt more sure that Jackson Fucking Teller only ever wanted you.

He tells you nonetheless, because words matter. Even though the way he shows it is a million times better. “Y/N. I can’t stand ever losing you again. When you were gone, nothing made sense,” he murmurs as you melt into his hands, the only thing holding your heart together as it shatters. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I want to spend my whole life trying to. You’re more than just my girl. You are my whole entire fucking world.”

His words are giving you a goddamn heart attack. “Jax...”

“Christ, I’m so sorry. Anything I ever did, to push you far from me... all the shit I said—that fucking fight...” he shudders at the thought of it, hands cradling your face so close and tight. “But baby, please—can you be mine, just for tonight? I know I have no right to take you back. No fucking right. But damn I tried...”

You cannot handle just how much he hates himself. You feel his pain just as you always do, slaying you through and through; it hurts like fucking hell. It kills. The most that you can do is love him till he feels that he deserves it, just to hope someday he will.

“Jax, stop,” you beg him as he stifles back a sob. “Don’t even... God, do you have any fucking clue how much I love you? I have never wanted anybody else. I ran away because the pain became too much to take—but babe, my heart is always yours to break. I was just... stupid and scared, and thought that I didn’t belong there. But if you’ll take me—if you want me, love me, honestly... then I promise you, baby: I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s breathing ragged, shaky sighs and gasps. His forehead pressed to yours, beaded with sweat, cheeks red and wet with all the tears you both have shed. “You mean that?”

Ugh, as if he has to ask. But then of course he does. He’s always doubted that he’s worthy of your love... but thankfully, Jax Teller never doubted whether he is worthy of your lust. You rake your fingers through the smooth strands of his hair, meeting his deep blue stare, then drop one hand to wrap your arm around his back. “Yes. I do. I love you, and I want you—only ever you. Don’t ever doubt it’s true. Now just shut up and fuck me, Jax.”

He doesn’t need anything more than that. Now that you’ve said the word, the animal inside of him attacks. The way this sweet angelic savage sex god of a man can go from soft to rough, in just a fraction of a second, is just... damn. One of the million things you’ll always love about him.

Jax lifts you off the wall and slams you down over the table as your moans resound throughout the room. “This how you want it? Hard and fast?”

“Fuck, yes...!” you gasp.

“Mmm, thought you like a man who takes his time...?” he teases, ripping at your slutty little outfit till it’s torn to shreds. Until he has you naked, dripping wet and aching for him, just the way he pleases. The savage darkness in his eyes should be a crime.

You wish you could sass back at him for being a smug son of a bitch, making you eat your own burlesque lyrics. But then he reaches down to grab one of your tits and fucking squeezes, and your brain is blown to bits. “Oh, shit—Jesus...”

“That ain’t my name, you little slut,” he scolds you as he strips out of his kutte.

“Jax...” you watch as he flings off his flannel, reaches for his belt, taking his time with the damn buckle. From the bulge in his crotch, you can tell that he’s already hard as a rock. “Fuck...”

“Bet you’ve been spending every day without me dreaming of this big hard fucking cock.”

You nod, too turned on to respond. Of fucking course.

“Then say it, whore.”

You force yourself to form the words. “I’ve never wanted any cock but yours. You own me, sir.”

“That’s better,” he mutters, reaching down to flip you over. With your tits pressed against the surface underneath, he spanks your ass so hard you bite your tongue and grind your teeth. Then he dips two of his fingers into your core, feeling your soaking wet heat. “Now, baby, I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll always remember. This tight little pussy exists for my pleasure.”

In actions and words, you completely surrender to Jax Fucking Teller. “Yes, sir!”

“Mmm, is that what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the head of his cock against your swollen, slick pussy lips with a fierce, feral grunt. “Dirty slut. Want me to fucking destroy your cunt?”

You have now lost the power to respond. But he won’t fuck you till you do. Even when it’s so obviously true.

Jax pulls your hair back, deals your ass another smack. “Who do you belong to? Better answer if you want this dick, you filthy little bitch.”

“I belong to you, sir!”

“That’s a good whore. Now what do you want me to do to this dripping wet pussy of yours?”

“Oh God, I want you to destroy it, sir! I want your cock inside me, please, I’ve never wanted anything more...”

“That’s right. I fucking own you, and I’m gonna show you how,” he growls, and seems to mean it as sincerely as a goddamn wedding vow. “You want a ‘guy what takes his time’ and all that shit... well, slut, it’s my fucking time now.”

Hell yes it fucking is. Jax fucks you like nobody’s business, rough and fast and hardcore, and you hope that he made sure to lock the door when he walked in because you’re screaming like a whore. It’s not like it’s a problem, if your boss and all your coworkers can hear what’s happening in your dressing room; after tonight, you most definitely won’t be needing this job anymore. You’ll be on the back of Jax Teller’s bike, holding him tight, as the two of you ride toward the rest of your life. Toward your future. Together.

You don’t know it yet, but Jax wants to make damn sure, this time, that you’ll stay by his side forever. Once he’s finally done fucking you dead, straight up ripping your pussy apart, like you wanted, he glances over toward the kutte that he’d thrown on the floor. Eyes the pocket that rests on his chest, right above his heart... and softly smiles at the thought, the hope, of claiming his most precious treasure. The diamond shines so bright that he could swear he sees the light, right through the leather.

***************

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eryiss · 2 years

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Chapter Five: Fifty-Fifty

Summary: Struggling with his college finances, Freed takes a job as the wrestling team's social media operator. It would be an easy job, if it weren't for the hot, cocky, spandex clad wrestling captain. Laxus Dreyar turns Freed's live upside-down, and Freed doesn't mind at all.

Notes: This chapter is about a night out as college students. As such, it contains a lot of drinking, getting close to vomiting, embarrassing yourself, and a nasty hangover. Just to make it clear, I write this with the legal drinking age as 18, as that's what it is where I'm from, so they're all acting lawfully in this. There's a lot of flirting in this one, and some truly horrible drinks. I hope you all enjoy.

Links: FFN, Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter, Chapter Post

Tags: @jemmahazelnut, @selfawarecobalt, @talkaboutbruno, @morbidflames, @ft-reboost

Chapter Five - Fifty Fifty

Freed had never been to a nightclub before, and by the looks of it, neither had Laxus.

It had been Bickslow's idea, strongly supported by Loke. When Laxus had invited the team for a night of drinking with him, Bickslow had pounced on the idea and taken charge. He had said that it had been months since he'd been to a nightclub and that they would be going to Magnolia's 'biggest, gayest club' and that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Nobody had any complaints, Bickslow had instructed them all to shower and dress well and sent them back to their rooms.

Two hours later, they had all climbed into a set of two taxis, Bickslow had given the drivers the address, and they had arrived at Sabretooth. Bickslow hadn't exaggerated when he'd said it was the biggest and gayest club in the city. It was massive, filled with thumping techno, drag queens, men in leather straps and a stage filled with caged, underwear-clad dancers. It was a place without shame, where anyone really could be whoever they wanted to be, and probably not what Laxus had expected when he'd offered to take the team out for drinks.

Well, it wasn't like Laxus could have planned anything himself. This offer of a night out was to deflect from him randomly shouting 'hey' to the entire room, and not just to Freed as he had clearly intended.

Freed wasn't going to forget that. Nor was he going to let Laxus forget it either.

But now that they were there, it was just the two of them standing at the bar. Bickslow had somehow gotten into one of the dancing cages, wearing only a pair of briefs as he gyrated his hips to the crowd that he'd gathered. Loke was flirting with three young men, who seemed enraptured by him and drooling over him. Natsu was whispering into Gray's ear with a mischievous smirk on his face, and Freed watched as the two of them slunk away to the bathroom with grins that could only be described as horny. Elfman was sitting at a table, occasionally talking to a man and politely declining their come-on, claiming he was straight but very flattered for their interest. He'd also been gifted a table's worth of different cocktails and was happily making his way through them.

Everyone in the team was perfectly at home in the club, other than Laxus and Freed. The sports-focused guy who probably hadn't had a night out in a year, and the guy who had only just escaped the crushing weight of his parent's influence. What a sad sight they must have seemed.

It was pathetic, and when a cheer filled the room and they turned to see Bickslow doing pullups in the cage, Freed had enough.

"We can't just stand here for the whole night," He stated, and Laxus looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. He was wearing a purple button up and very snug pants, and Freed appreciated the view for a moment before speaking again. "We came here to enjoy ourselves, that's clearly not happening, so we need to do something to change that."

"You got any suggestions?" Laxus asked. "Because I ain't ever been to a place like this, and so far, all I've done is told guys I'm not interested in them."

Freed could sympathise. Though Bickslow and Loke - and sometimes Elfman - had captured the attention of most of the club, both he and Laxus had been approached a few times. Most of the men had been polite, others less so, but they had all been rejected by the two of them. Freed wasn't looking to pick someone up, and if he was then it wouldn't be random men in a club.

"The people enjoying themselves the most seem to be the drunkest," Freed commented, looking over the crowd. "Maybe we should join them."

"You just wanna drink?" Laxus asked. "Ain't that kind of a waste of time?"

That was the point, but Freed didn't want to say that. Clearly, this was hard for Laxus.

It was hard not to wonder why Laxus was so obsessed with winning this tournament, though the clues were starting to fall into place. When Laxus' father had done that interview, he had said some incredibly awful things about his son, and Fairy Tail, which he used to coach. Freed had been defending Laxus for most of the day and had done a little research into the situation between father and son. Ivan had changed colleges the same year Laxus had joined Fairy Tail, and that didn't seem like a coincidence.

Partially, that was why Freed hadn't taken Laxus' actions to heart. There was a lot of trouble between Laxus and his father, and clearly Laxus had decided that the tournament was his way of proving himself. His anger at Freed was just a by-product of that, and Freed needed to be mature enough not to be offended by it.

He wasn't going to be disrespected, though. That was why he'd suggested training with the team. It had been one of the roughest workouts he'd ever been through, and he felt all the better for it. Given the situation, things had turned out incredibly well.

But Laxus apparently didn't know how to have fun. Freed could teach him.

Mind wandering back to everything Bickslow had said in the taxi ride - he had babbled about the pros of Sabretooth for the whole ride over - an idea struck him. Laxus liked competition, and the club offered a way for Freed to indulge that desire. He just needed to trust Laxus, and they might have a fun night with each other.

And, against all logic, he did trust the man.

"Excuse me," Freed said, beckoning for a blonde, shirtless bartender to approach. "Could you tell me about the Fifty-Fifty Challenge, please."

"Sure," The bartender grinned, and both Freed and Laxus looked towards him. "If you wanna do it, you pay for nine drinks, each a different colour of the rainbow. They're all cocktails, and they're all really fucking strong. If you make it through each of them, then the next time you come here you're drinking for free for the night."

"So, it's a drinking challenge?" Laxus asked.

"Kinda, but there's a twist," The bartender grinned wider. "With each cocktail, there's a fifty-fifty chance it'll either taste really good or really bad. You don't know which it's gonna be until you drink it," The bartender seemed to really enjoy this part of his job, speaking with enthusiasm. "The green cocktail, for example, either tastes like a mint-lime combination, or it tastes like actual vomit. Trust me, it's nasty."

Freed glanced at Laxus, who seemed genuinely baffled as to why someone would want that. It only spurred Freed on to speak.

"Could we both do it at the same time?" He asked. "And could you make it so one of us always gets the good one, and one of us gets the bad one?"

"Hell yeah," The bartender laughed. He looked at Laxus. "You in, big man?"

Laxus thought for a moment, and when he met Freed's challenging gaze, he sighed and stood up straight. "Dammit, fine."

"Great to see it, you two are gonna have a fun night," The bartender grinned, reaching down and pulling out two cocktail shakers from a lower shelf. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to pay up front. It's one hundred and fifty dollars each, and you don't get any money back if you give up halfway through."

Freed deflated a little. He didn't have that much money.

Laxus didn't flinch and reached into his wallet and pulled out a card. He instructed the bartender that he would be paying for them both, and the bartender nodded, took the card, and walked away with it towards the machine. Freed looked at him with an argument ready to be made, but Laxus cut him off before he could.

"I owe ya one," He said. "Actually, I owe ya like five now. With all the sponsors you've gotten us, you're basically paying for it anyway."

Freed thought for a moment. "Thank you."

Laxus shrugged. He then went into his own thoughts for a moment, looking around the room, then at the rum he'd been nursing for a little while, before a look of determination struck him. Freed had no idea what mental journey the man had been on, but the grin on his face told him that it would lead to interesting results.

"If we're gonna do this shit then we're gonna make it fun," Laxus stated. "So, we're gonna make a bet. Whoever drinks more of the crappy tasting cocktails has to do a forfeit? You okay with that?"

"Sure," Freed shrugged. "What's the forfeit?"

"Loser has to climb into one of those cages, strip to their boxers, and dance for fifteen minutes."

Freed looked at Laxus with wide eyes for a moment. Maybe he had been wrong, and Laxus did know how to have fun after all, and just simply needed to be pushed into it. Freed was never going to shy away from a bet he knew he could win, and the forfeit, while humiliating, wouldn't be the end of the world. One question did strike him, though.

"Fifteen minutes is awfully specific," He commented.

"It's long enough to make the loser look like a jackass, for the winner to get some good blackmail videos, but not long enough to get over the embarrassment," Laxus was grinning widely, just like he had done when showing off his body. It was a sexy, manic grin ladened with sexual challenge; Freed knew he mirroring the expression. "You in?"

"Absolutely," Freed grinned.

The bartender, who introduced himself as Sting, explained that both drinks would look exactly the same when made. He would place them on the bar with no indication as to which tasted good and which tasted bad, and the two of them could choose who wanted which. Once he had completed the explanation, he emptied the contents of two shakers into two glasses, revealing a pleasant yellow slush in them both.

Laxus motioned for Freed to pick his drink first, saying that he proposed the challenge and so he should be the one to get first pick. Freed pulled the closer drink to him, and Laxus picked up the other. They both looked into the glasses with trepidation.

"This is either going to taste like mango and passionfruit, or like a bucket filled with rotten eggs," Sting laughed. "Drink up gentlemen."

After hesitating for a moment, they both raised their glasses to their lips. With a glance over the rims of their drinks, they both moved in unison. They lifted their glasses high and swallowed down a few large gulps.

For a moment, there was no reaction from either of them.

Freed suddenly gagged into his drink, the revolting taste of alcohol and rotten eggs assaulting his pallet. He choked on the disgusting drink, ignoring the laughing coming from both Laxus and Sting. He struggled to force it down, the horrid taste the only thing he could think about as he nearly choked on the cocktail.

When he looked up, he saw that Laxus was grinning at him with a cocky confidence now. The bastard rose his own glass to his lips and drank the rest of it whole. He lowered his glass and looked towards Freed. "It only counts if you drink the whole glass, right?"

"That's right," Sting taunted. "Every last drop of it."

Freed looked down at his rotten-egg tasting drink with a squirming in his stomach. He suddenly regretted speaking up, but a small voice told him that this was the first time he and Laxus had been on an even footing, and that he should get over himself and just do it. With a heavy sigh, and a look of open regret, he lifted the drink to his lips and swallowed the other half of it with a mixture of gags and splutters.

Still, he swallowed as much as he could, and once he placed his empty glass down, he got an approving slap on the back from Laxus. That was a hollow victory, but it was something.

"Here, we give this to the loser of each wrong to clear the pallet," Sting said, offering Freed a shot of vodka. "On the house, of course."

"Thank you," Freed said, taking the shot. It somewhat overpowered the taste of rotten eggs.

"Only do it so you get the full flavour of the next crappy one," Sting laughed, going to make the next round.

After mixing two separate cocktails, they were presented with two glasses of an orange drink this time. Laxus picked his first this time and Freed all but prayed that he would win. Partly because he didn't want to endure another revolting drink, and partly because he wanted to see Laxus have just as rough a time as he had.

"Winner gets a blood orange margarita, and the loser gets to taste a glass of barf," Sting grinned. "And trust me, I've drank it. It's really what it tastes like."

Again, they both raised their glasses, and took large gulps from them. There was that moment just before the flavour hit, and once it did…

God Dammit!

Freed had to spit the drink back into the glass, it tasted so bad. Barf was an accurate description. He looked down at the glass in horror, as Laxus actually slammed his hand on the table because he was laughing so hard. Freed watched as the cocky son of a bitch enjoyed his torment and saw that Laxus had already finished his glass. Freed's, because he'd spat it out, was still full.

"You gotta finish it," Laxus taunted. "Because you'll lose both the challenge and our bet if you don't. And I don't think you're drunk enough to get in a cage yet."

It was easy to say that he would rather dance than drink this, but that was a lie. He needed to be drunk to get in the damn cage, and he also was determined to give Laxus a challenge. He pinched his nose, scrunched up his face, and downed the rest of the drink before he could stop himself.

Fuck, if he lost again, he might actually vomit.

The shot of vodka was a welcome release, and Sting commended him for doing so well. Laxus seemed to be enjoying himself at Freed's disgust, and Freed had to wonder if it had been worth it to bring the man out of his shell.

Soon, the next set of drinks were placed in front of them, this time both a deep red. The good tasting drink was raspberry and ginger, the bad was apparently dogfood. Sting even told them both that it had actual juice from a dog-food can inside of it, just to really make it taste as bad as it could be. Freed didn't know what he was going to do if he lost again, and as he raised his glass up, he felt dread fill him.

But then, Laxus was the one gagging.

Freed immediately lowered the drink to fully watch. Laxus was hunched over, grasping his drink tightly as he coughed, parts of the drink spat onto the bar. He looked a sight, the expression on his face revolted and miserable, and damn if it wasn't an ego boost. Freed slowly drank the raspberry and ginger, loving the way Laxus' cheeks had paled.

"Enjoying it?" He taunted, purely for revenge.

"Fuck you," Laxus rasped. "I really gotta drink the rest of it?"

"If you don't want to lose the bet, and all that money, then yes you do," Freed taunted. "And, considering I had to have every last drop of mine, you should too. Including the drops on the bar," Freed hummed, the alcohol more present inside him now. "It seems appropriate, given the flavour, that you should lick it up. Like a little puppy."

"You're joking," Laxus spluttered, then looked to Sting, who was apparently the mediator for their bet now. "That ain't fair."

"I cleaned the bar myself, ain't any reason for you not to do it," He laughed, and Laxus glared. "Don't be a bitch, your boyfriend managed it so you can too."

Boyfriend? What?

Freed looked towards Laxus to see what his reaction to that was but saw Laxus forcing down the drink before he could stop himself. The sight of his adam's apple bobbing and his long throat constricting replaced all confusion about what Sting had said. And if that hadn't done it, the sight of Laxus leaning over, his tongue outstretched, certainly did.

God, he was actually licking it off the bar. Why was that going straight to Freed's dick.

Once Laxus was done, he looked up and glared at Freed. "You're a bastard, and I'm gonna get your ass back for that."

"I look forward to it," Freed chuckled, trying not to let his arousal show. That shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

The rest of the night went on like that, with Sting bringing them drinks of all colours and flavours. Freed had somehow lost the next round and had to endure a taste that Sting assured him was compost flavoured. Laxus had made a big show about making Freed drink every last drop, going so far as to wipe the glass with a napkin and making Freed wring it into his mouth.

Laxus lost two rounds back to back. First it had been a mixture of soap and toothpaste flavours, which Laxus had struggled to swallow. Then, it had been something Sting had described as mould, which Laxus had taken a good five minutes to finish. They were both obviously drunk at that point, and neither willing to lose.

Freed lost again and had decided on a new tactic. No matter what the flavour, he would simply down it in one go. The taste of spoiled milk nearly made that impossible, but he had done it and only retched over the bucket Sting had provided for them for thirty or so seconds.

On the second to last round, Laxus had picked the short straw, and had known it even before drinking it. The scent coming from his glass was just as bad as the taste from all the others, and if Laxus hadn't so cockily suggested that he could have dealt with the spoiled milk round without flinching, Freed might have shown him some sympathy. Instead, he sat back and watched as Laxus drank something Sting had described as Dead Fish and Skunk Spray. It had been the closest to either of them vomiting all night.

"Now gentleman," Sting said with sadistic glee. "The tie breaker for your bet and the last drink of the night. I've made something extra special for you both." He pulled out two glasses again, filled with layers of different colours. "The winner gets our award winning Rainbow Express, it costs as much as all the other drinks combined. The loser gets every revolting flavour we have in one glass. I've never tried it, but I'm pretty confident it'll be the worst thing you've ever had in your mouth," He pushed the drinks towards them both. "Enjoy, gentlemen."

They both reached for the drink nearest to them, raised them, and hesitated. Neither wanted the losing drink, both for the bet and for the taste, but they both also didn't want to miss out on the chance at victory. Freed broke the stalemate.

"To your loss," He said, offering the glass for Laxus to toast.

"I think you mean your loss," Laxus taunted, clinking his glass against Freed's. "Don't act like a bitch when it happens."

Both forced cocky expressions onto their faces and brought the drinks to their lips. It took a moment, but the loser was revealed.

Freed could have thrown up.

The combination of tastes that had been bad enough on their own were awful when combined, and it didn't help that Laxus was laughing his goddamn ass off at him. Freed went to spit the drink out - he couldn't finish it, he just couldn't - when Laxus' hands shot out, holding both the glass upwards and Freed's jaw open. Freed could do nothing but gag around the revolting taste, drinking it down because Laxus wouldn't let him stop.

Once it was over, Freed felt his head spinning and his stomach roiling. He slowly looked towards Laxus with a glare, and Laxus just burst into another raucous round of laugher. Freed decided that, if he did throw up, he was aiming for Laxus.

A bell rang, and Sting shouted "We got two winners of the fifty-fifty challenge here." The crowd cheered. "And if I understand correctly, one of 'em is gonna give you a show."

Freed groaned, because everyone in the bar was looking right at them. Laxus' laughter got even louder as he patted Freed on the back again, equally as hard as he had before. Freed looked at the stage filled with cages and realised that maybe he had miscalculated on his bet. But he had made a deal and, dammit, the night had been fun. It had been ridiculous, and he had tasted the worst thing on the planet, but the fact he'd done it with Laxus somehow had made it fun.

Straightening his back, he stood up, the eyes of nearly everyone in the crowd following him. His stomach suddenly became calm, and his head didn't spin, as if he was in the eye of a storm. Once on the stage, he stood in front of the cage, and looked down at his audience.

If he was going to do it, he do it right.

Thank god for alcohol.

A song that could only be described as stripper music pumped through the speakers, and Freed began to rotate his hips in time to it. As he unbuttoned his shirt, the crowd cheered and whooped. He threw his shirt into the crowd and started working on his belt, which he pulled open with a crack like a whip. The attention was all on him; he loved it.

God, only a month ago he wouldn't have dreamed of this. His parents would have killed him, but what could they do now? He was allowed to do this! Allowed to do whatever he wanted.

He dropped his pants, and tossed them into the crowd, standing in front of hundreds of people wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs. It felt good. It felt liberating. It felt like he could do whatever the hell he wanted any nobody could stop him because he was his own man and this was his goddamn life and he would live it.

Climbing into the cage, he felt free.

He knew he'd regret this in the morning, knew that the humiliation would burn at him and that Laxus would never let it go, but in that moment he didn't care. This was right and it was what he wanted to do, no matter the consequences. He turned, looked at Laxus and into the lens of the phone he was recording him with, and winked.

And then he danced.

----

Laxus woke up with a splitting headache. He left his bed without making a noise, glad that his drunken self had decided to close all the curtains and blinds, even if he hadn't remembered doing it. He had crashed the moment he had gotten into the house, and had slept like the dead, but it hadn't helped his hangover.

He walked into the common room, only wearing his boxers. He and the rest of the team lived in what once was a frat house. While frats had been banned, the wrestling team had always been assigned to the building and were a frat in everything but the name.

When he walked into the kitchen, he froze.

Freed was standing there, looking like an angel. An angel with enough McDonalds to satisfy ten people at least.

He hadn't noticed Laxus standing in the doorway, giving him enough time to appreciate the view. The man was wearing a white shirt and black pants, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he plated up the food and organised the coffee cups. He had his hair tied up high behind his head and looked goddamn beautiful. It was a word Laxus hadn't ever associated with Freed before, but it seemed fitting in that moment.

Before he could be caught ogling the man, Laxus walked in and spoke to get his attention. "Hey," He said, voice raspy and quiet. "The hell is all this?"

"I expected you'd all be hung over and thought that salty food and coffee might help take some of the pain away," Freed shrugged, offering a plate containing a sausage muffin, three hash browns, a bacon cheese flatbread, and a couple hotcakes stacked onto it, along with a large cup of coffee. Normally Laxus wouldn't have considered it, but his stomach ached, and it felt like the best food in the world.

"You ain't hungover?" Laxus asked, taking a seat on one of the sofas. It was just the two of them, so Laxus sat where he could watch Freed. "You were the drunkest out of all of us."

"Yes, I remember," Freed chuckled, though the deep flush on his cheeks suggested he was more embarrassed than he was letting on. Heh. "But I've become immune to hangovers now. I drank a lot when I was younger, and at least one good thing had to come out of it."

Laxus had to wonder how much Freed could have drunk when he was younger, and it made him think about the kind of teenage years he must have had. Wild parties and underage drinking came to mind, but that quickly disappeared and was replaced by Gildarts' revelation about how crappy Freed's parents had been, and how that probably wasn't just a one time thing. He thought it best not to approach the subject. Besides, he had something else to say.

"Can I say something, before everyone else wakes up?" Laxus said, voice a little quieter now. Freed paused, stopped plating up the food, and looked to Laxus. He slowly nodded. "What I did yesterday, it wasn't about you. It was-"

"You don't need to," Freed interrupted. "I've moved past it. And I know."

"But I wanna say it," Laxus said, because he did. He needed to say this out loud. "My dad is a piece of shit, and he fucks with my head every time he shows up. Yesterday I really fucked up because I was pushing my anger off onto you, and it wasn't right. I shouldn't have grabbed you, shouldn't have kicked you out, and shouldn't have fucked around with your life like that, even if I didn't know I was doing it."

Freed was quiet for a moment. "Gildarts told you what my parents did?"

"He did," Laxus nodded. "You're a hell of a man for sticking to your principles like that. Don't forget it."

"Thank you, Laxus," Freed said quietly. They were quiet for a moment, and Laxus knew it wasn't his place to speak. Freed didn't seem the type to enjoy being vulnerable, and so he should be guiding this, not Laxus. A moment later, Freed spoke again. "Are you half naked for my benefit, or do you just have exhibitionist tendencies?"

Laxus smirked. Freed was deflecting, and Laxus didn't call him on it. "I have exhibitionist tendencies? Big talk from the stripper."

Freed groaned, and Laxus cackled and pulled out his phone, which had all of Freed's show on it. He hadn't watched it before falling asleep, despite a strong urge to do so. But now Freed was with him, and he really needed to humiliate Freed. That was the point of the bet after all; and if it helped get them away from a conversation neither man was comfortable with, then so be it.

"I'm not watching it," Freed said firmly.

"Don't think you've got a choice," Laxus laughed, pairing his phone with the TV.

The screen shot to life, and Freed was shown kicking off his pants to the crowd and standing in his boxers. Laxus hadn't noticed just how tight they had been, nor that Freed had apparently chubbed up to a half-boner in them. He unknowingly licked his lips at the sight of his teammate's show, watching as his abs rippled while he gyrated inside the cage.

"If you ever wanna really piss off your parents, you'd be a kickass stripper," Laxus commented, and Freed groaned. Laxus looked over his shoulder and saw Freed had his face buried in his hands. "If you don't actually watch it, I'm just gonna keep replaying it."

Freed sighed, and sat on the same sofa as Laxus, watching as he danced without shame. Clearly the shame had caught up with him now, because he was red faced and fidgeting. Laxus loved it.

"This is torture," Freed commented, when his drunken self grabbed the bars of the cage and licked them. "I'm never drinking again."

"You wanna deprive the world of this?" Laxus laughed. "That's cruel."

"Please turn it off," Freed complained, but Laxus had no intention of doing this.

"There's a good bit where two guys in the audience end up tearing your shirt in half because they were fighting over it," Laxus cackled, before the words struck him.

Freed had slept in the frat house with the rest of them, because it had been late at night when they'd gotten in, they had a sofa, and because Freed had been half naked. Laxus remembered it now! His shirt had been torn up and they couldn't find his pants, so once the show was over Freed only had his boxers and coat left and had ridden in the taxi like that. The coat was hung up in Laxus' room because it seemed too expensive to leave lying around. It had been there in the morning, meaning…

"Did you walk across campus in your boxers?" He demanded, and Freed got even redder. "Holy shit, did you?"

He might have to see if he could get any CCTV footage of that…

"Not exactly," Freed muttered. "I remembered you had my coat, and I didn't want to wake you, so I found someone else's and wore that as well," Freed nodded towards the coat he had worn. It was Laxus' fur coat. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal," Laxus echoed. "You're telling me you walked across campus wearing those tightass boxers, my coat, and nothing else. And you did it so you could get my dumbass team some food to help with their hangovers?"

His throat was dry. How the hell had he missed something that hot?

"It's not as if I actually went into McDonalds dressed like that," Freed tried to argue, apparently embarrassed about the situation.

Laxus only made a noise in response, his thoughts entirely dominated by the thought of Freed wearing his coat and those boxers. In his imagination, Freed was lounging over Laxus' bed, legs spread wide and a taunting expression on his face. He looked like a fallen angel, trying to tempt Laxus into sin, and Laxus knew that if it were real then he would fall into the demon's clutches willingly.

Fuck, he needed a cold shower. The boxers he was wearing wouldn't hide anything if he got hard.

"Laxus?" Freed's voice caught his attention, and Laxus looked towards him. The video was over, and Freed was looking at him with a glint of humour in his eye. Maybe he had been caught. "I hope everything's okay?"

Okay, Freed must have figured it out. Laxus needed to get on top.

"Nothing, just thinking it's a shame that you didn't go into public dressed like that," Laxus shrugged, a taunting tone in his voice. If Freed was willing to do a strip tease in this little flirtatious competition, then Laxus could raise the stakes too. "Probably would've sucked you off if you did."

He stood up, walked away, leaving Freed gaping after him, words apparently failing him.

Laxus smirked; he deserved a long, hot shower after that.

#Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Freed x Laxus #Fairy Tail #Modern AU #College Au #Wrestling AU #Fanfic #Multichap #Word Count: 5.4k

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