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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months

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Do you want me to help you?

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: As you and Bucky spend time at your place, things get hot pretty fast.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, subby Bucky, he's jetting his first blow job, come eating.

Author's note: enjoy<3

It was another Friday night when you invited Bucky to your place so you could order some food, watch movies, and cuddle under the blankets.

You and Bucky met almost six months ago at the coffee shop. You were walking in when someone suddenly bumped into you, and you ended up lying on the ground with a large coffee stain on your pink blouse. The man who caused this mess ended up being an Avenger. Sergeant Barnes, a former Winter Soldier, was really cute when he got all nervous and couldn’t stop apologizing for the situation. He said that he really needed to be somewhere else, so he took your number with a promise to pay you for everything and ran away, leaving you with shock and excitement bubbling in your body.

You were too stunned to speak, because not only was it an Avenger, but it was Bucky fucking Barnes—the person whose whole biography you willingly studied in school. He was much taller than you imagined and definitely more attractive. His apologies seemed to be really sincere, so you were just stupidly nodding while he was speaking. Bucky asked for your phone so he could call himself and have your number until he would have time to properly make amends.

Then you didn’t know that you had just met your future boyfriend.

Soon he called you and asked you to meet him at the cafe, and you agreed without any hesitation. He was too sweet for his own good, and that minidate was one of the best experiences that you’ve ever had.

Now, you don’t know how you ended up in this situation, but you were sitting on Bucky’s lap on your couch while the two of you were too lost in the kiss.

Of course, you have already kissed, but most of the time it wasn’t too rough or desperate. You knew that Bucky had hard times trusting people, so you didn’t push him with anything. You were happy just to be with him, and if he needed time to start touching you or have sex, it was okay.

But right now, something has changed. His hands were gripping your thighs, pushing you harder on his erection in the jeans. Bucky kissed you like a starving man; his tongue was in your mouth, and he had already bit your lower lip several times. You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t even notice that you started moving your body against his.

At that moment, he came to his senses, stopped your hips with his hands, and pulled out of the kiss, breathing heavily.

"What happened?" You asked while trying to catch your breath. "Was it too much?"

"I don’t know." He looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were much darker than usual. "It was too long ago, and I'm not sure that I’m ready right now." He looked down as if he were ashamed to say this.

"That’s okay, baby, I promise. We can go at your own pace. I didn’t have sex for some time too, so that’s okay." You smiled at him while your hand found a place on his stubbled cheeks.

"It’s not just a few years." He mumbled.

"What?"

"I haven’t had sex since I went to war." Silence fell on you while you were trying to process his words.

"Wait… really?" He nodded.

"You know, while I was with HYDRA, I was busy with different… things. And after that, I was just trying to get back to a normal life."

"I see, but I really thought that you at least were with someone in Bucharest or in Wakanda."

"No. In Bucharest, it was unsafe to even go out in the streets, and in Wakanda, every woman was for me like a sister, you know? You are the first one who I wanted to know as more than a fri-Oh, shit!" He suddenly gasped. You just wanted to move a little bit, but instead, you accidentally touched his erection.

"Oh my God, I’m sorry!"

"T-that’s okay, just don’t move, please. It will disappear." Bucky threw his head back on the couch and closed his eyes tightly.

"Do… do you want me to help you?" You asked almost innocently. "I mean, we don’t have to have sex, but I can do other things to help your problem."

There was another awkward silence when Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You don’t have to do that. Really."

"What if I want to?" You moved closer to his face, almost touching his lips. "Would you let me take care of you?"

Bucky’s eyes were dark again, full of need and lust. Finally, he nodded slightly. You gave him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, and not wanting to waste any more time, you slipped from his lap onto the floor.

"Wait! You want to—you don’t have to—I mean– fuck." Bucky hid his face behind his hand from embarrassment. You act like a fucking child.

"Hey, baby. Talk to me. It’s okay." You put your hands on top of his, pulling them away. "What happened, James? You thought I meant to help you with my hands?"

"Mhm. I’ve never done this before." He mumbled something that you almost didn’t understand. Bucky's face was pink, so you put your hands on his burning cheeks to calm him down. "I’m sorry that I’m such a mess."

"You’re not a mess, Bucky. So you’ve never got a blowjob? Even before the war? I thought you were a ladies’ man." You asked gently.

"I was, but back in the day, it was hard to find a girl that would do it just because, you know? Sex was more available because blowjobs were more intimate, I guess. And I’ve never had real relationships, sooo." He just shrugged, feeling even more embarrassed.

"I understand. And that’s okay if you don't have experience in something. You don’t have to be ashamed, at least not with me. I still want to do this, if you don’t mind." Bucky nodded again before leaning closer to your face and kissing you with passion.

While you were kissing, your hands slipped from his face, running across his chest and abs, right to the bottom of his jeans. You pulled away from the kiss and pushed Bucky back onto the sofa. As soon as the pants were unbuttoned, he helped you pull his clothes lower, and you gasped.

His beautiful dick was standing right in front of your face. Hard, thick, with a vein from one side and pre-cum leacking from the tip. Honestly, you’ve never found them attractive, but it seemed like Bucky was perfect everywhere, so the sight before your eyes made your mouth water.

"Holy shit." You breathed out as your hand wrapped around him, and the fingers barely even touched each other. Your boyfriend’s body instantly tensed; he was not used to this kind of touch. You gave him a few strokes, seeing how his eyes rolled back in pleasure and a tiny moan escaped his mouth. "You know, that’s a shame that no one put this pretty cock in their mouth." You smiled as Bucky’s ears got pink from your praise. "Look at me."

As soon as he did as you told him, you looked directly into his eyes and licked him from the bottom to the top, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste instantly filled you, and you slightly moaned, sending vibrations down Bucky’s body.

He tried to hold himself together. He really did. But the sight of you on your knees, looking him in the eyes with his cock in your mouth, He completely lost it and let out the loudest moan that he had ever made. Both metal and flesh gripped the sides of the couch, but the pleasure was too intense, and he was overwhelmed.

You started moving your head up and down, still looking Bucky in the eyes. The tip of his dick met your throat, but there were still a few inches left.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Y/N, holy shit!" He whined and threw his head back.

You let him slip out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and started stroking him with a hand, using the mixture of your saliva and Bucky’s pre-cum to make it easier.

"Put your hand on my head, baby. Do whatever you want." Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then his right hand fell on top of your head and made a messy ponytail. You smiled and put your lips back on his dick, gently licking and sucking the tip. The hand on your head slightly pushed you down, and you allowed Bucky to control you.

He slipped back into your mouth until his head touched the back of your throat. You started moving on your own, but Bucky’s hand was still tightly holding your hair as he was showing you the pace that he liked. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dripping down your chin, but you didn’t care about it when your boyfriend was such a mess.

Bucky’s eyes were partly closed as he was trying to look at the beautiful view before him. Your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock, and it was probably the hottest thing that he had ever seen. He couldn’t hold back the small moans escaping his mouth because it was too good—feeling your warm and wet mouth around him. He tried not to push you too hard, but from time to time his grip tightened and his hips moved by themselves, making you choke.

"Doll." Bucky moaned. "Please, baby, I’m so close, oh my– fuck." He instantly pushed you lower, but you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you moaned around his cock, lifting your free hand on his torso under the shirt. You felt that his body was tense, and the muscles under your fingers were trembling. You knew that Bucky was close, so you ran your nails over the hot and soft skin. "Doll– doll, you should move. I’ll cum– fuck, please." Bucky whined and tried to take you off of him, but you didn’t let him and instead swirled your tongue around him.

You felt it before it happened: Bucky’s body tensed, his cock twitched, and a loud moan filled the room. In a second, your mouth was filled with a warm, a little bit salty, and a little bit sweet seed. You moaned at the taste, still sucking his dick until you knew that he had completely finished, and only then swallowed every single drop.

Bucky’s hand fell out of your hair on the sofa near him, and he was sitting there almost senseless with heavy breathing and closed eyes. You helped Bucky put himself back into pants and then sat on his lap again.

"James?" You gently put your hand on his face.

"Mm." Bucky finally opened his eyes, and you have never seen him in this condition: sleepy, relaxed, with a tiny, lazy smile on his face. "Can’t believe that you just did it, doll. It was better than any sex that I’ve had in my life." He leaned into your touch. Bucky grabbed your face and dragged you closer until you two connected in a kiss, and he could taste himself on your tongue.

"I’m glad you liked it."

"Liked? Doll, you almost sucked my soul out." He chuckled. "Now I have to pay back." Suddenly, one warm and one cold hand were under your pajama shorts.

"Not today, baby. You’re tired. Would you stay for a night?" You bumped your nose with his, leaving light and short kisses on his lips.

"Of course, doll."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you

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lives-in-midgard · 4 months

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They All Love You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky and the Avengers ask reader to move in with them.

Word Count: 1640

Request: Hi!! Can I please request a Bucky x civilian!fem!reader one shot (Everyone lives au!) where Y/n is moving into the Avengers HQ to lives with her bf Bucky?.... [Full request here]

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request I hope you and everyone else like how this turned out!

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

It’s been almost a year since you and Bucky started dating. You met each other when Bucky was looking for something specific in a store and luckily you were there to help him. Bucky came back often and one day he asked for your phone number. Bucky didn’t care that you have a civilian job. He actually really likes that you have a normal job, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s very protective of you.

After dating for a few months, you finally met the Avengers. You were nervous at first, but everyone was very nice and friendly to you. You were there several times and were able to get very close to them, especially Steve and Sam.

You cuddled and talked with Bucky in bed. He gently rubbed your back as you told him about your current life situation. Living with your roommate wasn’t going well at the moment. That was also one of the reasons why you had been more on the compound than at your home lately. Of course, Bucky and the others were happy to have you there. Bucky listened intently to everything you said and gave you a kiss on the forehead when you said how sad you were about it.

“Why don’t you move in here?” Bucky asked suddenly and you looked up at him. Into his beautiful eyes and a smile forming on his lips.

“I don’t know Bucky. Do you think the others would be okay with it?” You asked shyly and Bucky pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Of course they would be okay with it. Doll, you know they all love you. Not as much as I do, but they really love you.” You chuckled at the last part and then cupped his cheeks but before kissing him you said.

“I love you so much.” After breaking the kiss, you smiled at each other.

“But I have to think about it…. moving in is a big change. For everyone here.”

“It’s okay doll, you don’t have to decide now.” Bucky smiled and you laid your head back on his chest and he put his arm around you.

A few hours later it was time for dinner and you both went downstairs to join the others. You had a delicious meal and then went into the living room.

You sat next to Bucky and held his hand while you talked with the others, laughing, and had a great time together until Steve asked you about the situation between you and your roommate. You told him a while ago and the others also know how frustrated you are because of your roommate.

“No, nothing has changed.” Steve gave you a sad look, then looked at Sam and then at Bucky next to you. Bucky nodded at him and Steve smiled at you.

“There is something we wanted to ask you for a while now.” Steve began to say.

“We?” You asked and looked around. The other Avengers nodded and smiled at you.

“We’re all happy to have you here on the compound, and we know how you feel about your roommate.” Steve paused and you could imagine what he was going to say next.

“So we all had the idea that you could move in here.” Sam finished what Steve started to say. You didn’t know what to say, so you were quiet for a moment. Of course it would be great to move in with Bucky and the others. When Bucky noticed that you were getting nervous, he squeezed your hand and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I would definitely like to move in here but-” You wanted to say more but were interrupted by Tony.

“Then we have the answer. You’re moving in here.” Tony announced with a smile. You giggled and looked over at Bucky. You smiled at Steve and Sam and then turned to Tony and the others.

“But I’m definitely going to need help getting my stuff here.”

“We will help you, right Sam?” Steve said.

“Of course we will.” Sam answered and you chuckled.

And that was right, they really helped you. You and Bucky, Steve and Sam drove to your apartment the next day and they helped you packing and brining everything to the compound. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t there because you weren’t sure what Bucky, Steve and Sam would do or say if they met her.

“Doll, I’m so glad you moved in here.” Bucky whispered as you cuddled in bed at night.

“Me too.”

Time has passed and you really loved that you decided to move in with them. You have a lot of fun and enjoy spending more time with them. You always take a morning run with Steve and Sam, sometimes Bucky joins as well. Sometimes you go to gym in the compound and train with Bucky and Steve. You also spend a lot of time with Wanda and Natasha. And of course Thor and Loki are also happy to see you when they come to visit.

You love waking up and falling asleep in your boyfriend’s loving embrace every day.

There is always someone there to spend time with. But they are all also very protective over you. If you have to leave for work early, Bucky will drive you. When Bucky was on a mission, they were all there for you. There were all so protective that they always noticed when something was wrong.

This day was one of those days. You came home from a hard day at work. You got home in time for dinner. When you parked your car outside, you saw Bucky waiting for you. Before got out of your car, you took a deep breath because you were still a little stressed and nervous. By the time you got out of the car and walked over to Bucky, he already tell that something was wrong.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked, but you didn’t want to tell him.

“Sure.” Bucky didn’t believe you, but he didn’t want to push you either. Bucky grabbed your hand, and you went upstairs to have dinner with the others. During dinner you were very quiet and didn’t talk much. You noticed Steve’s worried look. Sam smiled at you and tried to start a conversation, but it didn’t really work. After dinner, you and Bucky went to his room.

“Buck, is it okay if I go downstairs training for a bit?” You asked after a while.

“Sure, doll. Should I come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I want to go alone.” When you said that Bucky had a worried look on his face.

“Are you sure everything’s, okay?” Bucky asked again and you nodded. Then you put on your gym clothes and went downstairs. You thought you would be alone, but when you entered the gym, you saw Steve and Sam working out.

“Hey y/n” Sam greeted you and so did Steve.

“I thought I was the only one downstairs right now.” You mumbled and Steve and Sam looked at each other.

“You won’t even notice us.” Sam said and you let out a small laugh. You walked over to a table and picked up one of the boxing bandages. You were about to put it on your hand when Steve walked over to you.

“Let me help you, sweetheart.” Steve put it gently on your hands while you stayed still.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. If you need anything, we’re here.” You nodded and then walked to the boxing area. You started boxing and after a while you were so busy letting out your anger that you didn’t even notice the worried looks from Steve and Sam. What you also didn’t notice was that they left after a while. They went to Bucky and told him that something must be wrong, and he decided to go to you.

You didn’t realize that Bucky was there until he stood next to you and gently touched your shoulder. You flinched and looked at Bucky.

“Sorry for scaring you, doll.” Bucky looked very worried.

“It’s okay, Buck.”

“What’s wrong doll, and please don’t say nothing.” He said softly. You looked away for a second and then back at Bucky.

“I just had a really bad day at work and a lot happened.”

“Oh, doll, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m not sure.” You answered and were quiet for a moment until you asked.

"What would you have done if I had told you about my bad day sooner?"

"What I would have done?" He asked and you nodded.

"I would have hugged you straight away, rubbed your back and kissed you on the forehead. Then we would cuddle in bed all night long until you feel better." Bucky finished with a smile.

"Can we still do that now?" You asked shyly and Bucky smiled at you.

"Of course we can." Bucky said and smiled at you.

"How about we start with a hug, doll?" He said and you nodded, then he wrapped his arms around you. You laid your head on his chest. He rubbed your back and kissed your forehead like he promised. After a few minutes you pulled away and he gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

"And now let's go upstairs to cuddle. But let me help you take those of before.” He said when he looked at your hand. Bucky gently removed your boxing bandages and then kissed the back of your hand.

"Now let's go cuddle." Bucky said, taking your hand in his. You went into his room and did exactly what he said earlier. Well, you were really glad that Steve and Sam were so protective, otherwise Bucky probably wouldn’t have come to you.

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wood-white-writer · 7 months

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"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [5/...]

“Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, I'll be there on their side. I'm losing by their side.”

— Mitski, "Bet On Losing Dogs"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.

It's been a few weeks since the events in Orange Town, and Luffy notices something that others do not. So, he decides to ask you.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, No (fully bodied) Buggy this chapter, Luffy being the precious cinnamon we all love and must protect above all else, flashbacks about Shanks, past discussions, Luffy and Reader have a heart-to-heart.

A/N: I was initially going to write them going to the Baratie this chapter, but it became too long so next one for sho.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk, @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You're sitting by the table in Party's bar, nursing a cold glass of rum against your cracked lips as you observe to the kid - Luffy - demonstrating his newfound Devil Fruit powers without any regard for poor Makino's furniture.

You don't get him, at all. Then again, you don’t get kids.

You've never thought of yourself as someone who easily got along with them ... or people in general. Shanks has always been the better-suited one for that kind of work. Whereas he is smiling and grinning at the kid’s mischief, you've barely offered him more than a glance at most.

Your crew has been positioned in Foosha village for the better part of the month, stacking up on resources and food in preparation for your next job. Incidentally, the Red-Haired Pirates also happened to be in town for similar excursions. You rarely see Shanks nowadays since you parted ways several years ago, but whenever you happen to come across one another, you share a drink on his tab.

While your crew is around and about, replenishing their strength and vigor for the work to come, you're content with just sitting here at your leisure. When you're not plundering or fighting or attacking Marine bases, you can't find it in yourself to do much of anything anymore.

Nothing adds any purpose to your life save for what keeps you fed and clothed, which in the life of a pirate, simply means pirating.

"I've heard you had good fortune on your latest heist," Shanks says from where he's sitting opposite of you. "For your efforts, the Marines have granted you among the highest bounties in all of the East-Blue."

You hum noncommittally in response, not offering much to the conversation in terms of merriment. "The quality of the Marines has been in decline. It says more about their effort, or lack thereof, than mine."

"Do you know what they call you nowadays?"

"They call me a lot of names, you got to be more specific."

"'Cross-Hairs, the Beast of the East'. It's got a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

"Sure."

Shanks smiles the kind way he always does. Always has done.

"Gum-Gum Pistol!"

The sound of yet another chair breaking has you rolling your eyes without even looking, and poor Makino ages ten years in seconds across the bar counter.

"Luffy!"

"Sorry!"

Shanks laughs heartedly at the display, only to cut it short upon noticing Makino's even glare sent his way from across the bar.

"You were careless," you state matter-of-factly and take another gulp from your drink. "You should've kept the fruit hidden more securely."

"Now, in my defense, I didn't think the lad would searching through my loot."

"Well, you should've." You slam your glass down, strong enough to leave a dent in the wooden surface. "What kind of captain leaves his loot undefended and unsupervised? Especially when it contains a Devil Fruit?"

Shanks doesn't argue with your statement and settles with taking a gulp of his own drink, letting your words simmer in his head. "You're right, I should've been more observant. Now, it'll be more difficult for him to achieve his dream."

"His dream? Of what? Becoming the King of the Pirates?" Try as you might, there's no suppressing the snort that escapes through your nose. "There's only ever been one King, and we all saw what happened to him. What do you think is going to happen to a kid who can't even swim?"

"Oh, come off it!" He gives you a playful nudge to the rib, which you reciprocate with a glare. He remains undeterred. "You mean to tell me you've never thought about finding the One Piece? Not even once?"

"I have no interest in whatever plunder Gol D. left behind."

"Then, what does interest you?" He rests his elbow on the edge of the table and leans over to your side. "What is your dream?"

You grit your teeth under your lips, a flash of blue circulating in your head. "Dreams are for fools and children," you point your head to where Luffy is currently sitting, trying to put the chair back together with a half-empty tube of glue and little luck.

"Come on, I know you better than that. Surely there's something in this world you want more than anything?"

"What I want is ..." You have half a mind to tell him the truth, whereas the other half wants to push the idea further down to the bottom of your chest. "Is another bottle of rum."

You raise your arm to Makino to gesture for another one, but Shanks is quick to lower it with a gentle shove of his arm. You flash him a scowl and brush off his hand, but unlike your crew or anyone else, he's not afraid.

"The point which I'm trying to make before you're completely pissed," he starts. "Is that no matter how much opposition one faces, it's that dreams are never out of reach if you have the will to reach for them."

He inclines his head over your shoulder, and you turn around to see Luffy successfully putting the chair back together. You don't know how he did it - it looked pretty busted minutes ago - but there it is, wholly intact.

And when the boy smiles, it's so vibrant and full of joy that it's almost blinding. He proudly runs over and shows the repaired chair to Makino, who proceeds to pat his head and hand him a plate of food.

"See?" Shanks grins. "Nothing is impossible."

"You can hardly consider putting a chair back together the same as achieving an impossible goal."

He shrugs. "Maybe not, but you won't know unless you try. All it takes is a little spirit."

You watch Shanks for a couple of minutes in silence, processing his mythic words, then shift your attention over to Luffy who's preoccupied with shoving an unholy amount of food into his mouth. If this is to become the future King of the Pirates one day, then it'll be an interesting future indeed.

"A little spirit, huh?"

— — —

You're sad.

Luffy first notices it when you leave Orange Town, and it lingers throughout your voyage.

For as long as he's known you, you've always been a person of relatively few words; never speaking unless you feel the situation requires it, and only acting when necessary. Even following the Kuro situation™, getting the Going Merry, and adding Usopp to his crew, he can tell that you're not all there anymore.

Not to be mistaken, you're not conspicuous with the way you behave. You still act like usual, talk like usual, however little, and commit yourself to your work on the ship, almost to an excessive extent.

All in all, nothing’s changed about you. However, he’s gotten used to your face and general lack of expression most of the time, and though it doesn't seem to alter, he still catches onto the fact that you're sad.

"Hey," he asks the group and props himself in the kitchen, legs crossed atop his seat. "Do you think she's any different?"

"Who? Your friend?" Nami asks, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, I think she's sad."

"Doesn't look any different to me," Zoro supplies while polishing his swords on the table.

Usopp's in the middle of munching a piece of loaf, and answers with his mouth still halfway occupied. "Dunno how she usually is, but she's kinda terrifying if you ask me."

"No, she's not," Luffy dismisses lightly.

"What's her position on the ship, anyhow? How'd you come across her?"

"She's always been with me," Luffy answers without any thought. "And she’s a good fighter.”

Zoro — to everyone’s surprise — nods his head to this in concurrence.

Their Captain claps his hands together to get the subject back on track. "But anyway, I just think she seems kind of down now."

"How can you even tell? With eyes like these, —” Usopp puts both of his index fingers at the crow’s feet of his eyes and draws them back to imitate yours. It’s borderline shameful, truth be told. “— I can’t tell for shit what she’s feeling or thinking.”

“I just can.” Luffy shrugs.

“Has she said anything?” Nami asks. “Anything to make you ask?”

“No, not really.” He heaves a sigh and props his hand under his chin, contemplating. “But she's been different since we left Orange Town.”

"If you ask me," Zoro speaks up. "You should ask her about her relationship with that fucking clown."

"Who? Boogie?"

"Buggy," Nami corrects. "Didn't you notice that at the end? They have a history, it's obvious. They know each other, and I don't know what pirate customs are like nowadays, but I doubt you'd touch the face of an enemy unless there was something going on. Has she said anything about it?"

Luffy shakes his head. “No... but then again, she never does tell me much about anything unless I ask.”

The tangerine-haired girl blinks as if the answer to this whole predicament is obvious. She quickly comes to realize that, to Luffy, it’s not.

“So…” she prompts slowly.

“So…?”

She rolls her eyes at his inability to catch her drift. “Go ask her.”

It’s like the thought never even crossed Luffy’s mind in the first place because truth be told, it hasn’t. He lights up like a candlestick on the spot. “Yeah, I should just ask her!”

“Ask me what?”

The members of the Straw Hat pirates (save for Zoro) withdraw in various unique positions, having not heard you make your entrance before you speak.

You’re standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyebrow slightly quirked at the Baroque-esque scene in front of you. Deciding not to address the display, you simply ask, “Anything I should know about, Captain Luffy?”

Usopp doesn’t even dare to answer, because he knows you sure as hell don’t see him as a captain in general, much less your captain. He swears he notices you briefly look in his direction at the mention of the title, and a shiver runs across his skin. Like static electricity in the air.

“Oh, yeah,” Luffy turns to you, not an ounce of fear in his eyes as he pops the question. “Are you sad?”

You blink once, then twice, like the inquiry on its own is of unfathomable origins to you. “Do I look sad?”

The boy in the straw hat nods. “I think you do.”

“Then I’m not.” It’s not only an answer, but also a sentence that marks this subject as finished on your part. One that does not permit any subsequent additions.

You incline your head to the deck above. “We’re going to have company soon, likely Marines, and they seem to be in supply of heavy fire this time.”

———

The situation with the aforementioned opponents temporarily distracts the crew, yet Luffy maintains a close eye on you, taking note of anything that can point him to the source of the unknown problem. You talk relatively little with the other crew members, but you seem to have developed an amicable enough relationship with them compared to when you first met.

Before, you could care less about getting to know them. Now, you’re actively going out of your way to ask Nami about her cartographic skills, even giving her tips for additions to her geographical detailing. You provide Zoro pointers on self-developed defensive techniques and ways to paralyze opponents in certain spots (which he seems appreciative of).

You even give Usopp a short nod when he tells you one of his fantastical stories, even knowing that they’re full of shit.

Luffy’s happy, but he still sees that you are not.

It’s all in your eyes. They’re hollow somehow, like the end of a barrel. He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he knows, and he’s known for a good while now.

So, that night, Luffy finds you in the kitchen by the windows, absentmindedly snacking on a red apple while you gaze into the dark nothingness outside. He also discovers that he’s subconsciously become quite observant of your habits as of late.

For example, you specifically pick red apples above any other color when they happen to dock someplace, not even paying any mind to the green or yellow ones. Just the red ones.

“Hey,” he positions himself next to you on the bench, a piece of loaf tight in his hand. “Why are you sad?”

You turn your head just a fraction to the side to look at him, not annoyed, but not appreciative of the focus he’s settled on as of late. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? The Vice-Admiral looks a little weary as of late, after all. Are you sad about it?"

"Nope."

“So why do you insist that I’m sad?”

“Because you are,” he states like it’s obvious.

You huff humorously and return your attention to the window that supplies no real view. “How can you tell?”

“I just can.” He takes a generous bite of his food and continues talking, oblivious to the crumbles that fall while doing so. “When I’m sad, I—”

“Eat?”

“Well, yeah.” He swallows the bite down. “But I also like to talk about it with someone I trust. Shanks used to say that true friends are the kind of people you can share your heart with and not get hurt.”

This annoys you, that much he can tell. A nail digs into the apple you’re holding, leaving a crescent-shaped indent on the red skin. “Shanks said many things, and not all of it's true.”

This doesn’t deter him from pressing on the matter. “If you keep all the hurt inside, it’s going to turn bad. You know, Makino said that if you leave a piece of ham in the fridge too long, it’ll get sour and people can’t eat it.”

“Only you could find a way to compare this sort of thing to food.” You withdraw your finger from the apple and end up leaving it alone altogether. A minute or ten of silence waves between you, laced with unspoken questions and denied answers. “Tell me, Luffy, just how much did Shanks tell you about his past?”

He thinks for a moment, mimicking your movements by putting his loaf aside. “Just about his adventures with the Red-Haired Pirates, and a little about the time you served with him. Is it true you were strong enough to throw a three-hundred-pound man to the ground when you were thirteen?”

He swears it’s a snort that he catches leaving your throat, but it’s hard to differentiate it from your more-than-usual scoffs. “He exaggerated.”

“Really?”

“The man was two-fifty, at most.”

Luffy grins with genuine admiration, so much so that your face tilts back slightly, being overwhelmed by the mere brightness that is him. “Wow! You must’ve been quite a beast when you were a kid!”

He notices it again, the sadness that latches onto your eyes like insects to sour meat. Whatever brief smile adorned your lips moments ago disappears like it was never there at all. Thinking he said something wrong, Luffy prepares to apologize when you speak again.

Your voice is soft yet faint like you’re afraid speaking too loudly will make something bad happen. “It wasn’t just me and Shanks, back then, you know.”

The Captain of the Straw Hats thinks it’s almost unnatural of you to be this demure, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“Buggy was there, too. It was the three of us, together.”

“Oh, yeah.” He remembers it now. “He did mention that in Orange Town. You served the same crew.”

“… He did, did he?”

“He said you and Shanks betrayed him, but I didn’t believe him.” Luffy knows you and has known you for longer than he’s known a lot of people in his life. You’re one of the few permanent people he’s had, and he knows with a certainty that you’re not the kind of person who leaves anyone behind, not without reason.

Even if you did have a reason for leaving Buggy, it must have been a good one.

Your mouth opens and shuts several times in the span of a minute like you’re hesitating to talk about the past. You’ve never been one to talk about it, except to share some details about your time as captain, and even that was limited to the bare minimum.

Still, Luffy, being in no hurry for you to reach an answer, waits patiently by your side until you do decide to talk about it.

Talk about what he believes is the reason for your sadness.

“We were close back in the days,” you begin slowly. “Me, him, and Shanks. It was us against the rest of the world, and we were going to sail together to the end of the seas one day. It was our dream.”

“Then, what happened?”

You put your palm over both your eyes and rest your elbow on the window frame, heaving a sigh that resembles someone who’s spent too much of their life working and working and working without catching any breaks. Pure, simple exhaustion weighs you down, Luffy can tell.

When you speak next, you sound tired too, and perhaps a little strained. He can’t see your eyes, and so, he can’t truthfully tell what you’re thinking now. “The thing is, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that he decided he didn’t want to stick around.” You breathe through your nostrils. “Our captain was gone, and so was the crew, but we three were still together, and I thought we were going to stay together.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No … We didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but one day when I was talking with Shanks about what to do next, Buggy came in, and it … He looked at me like … Like he hated me.” You exhale. “He did hate me, and I don’t know what it was I did, but he practically told me that we were done … And then he left. I never saw him again, up until Orange Town.”

Luffy doesn’t require your eyes this time to tell that you’re sad now because you are. You’re so sad that it’s destroying you from the inside, and even that is an understatement on its own. There are no tears trickling down your cheeks, no quivers or thickness to your voice, no nothing to base his assumptions on, but he knows.

He stays silent for a short while, doing nothing but look at you. You’re one of the strongest people he knows. He’s seen you fight; seen the strength you possess, the fire in your eyes. You’ve stayed with him ever since Shanks left Foosha Village, you’ve looked after him from the sidelines when you thought no one was watching.

You’ve been with him throughout everything, and seeing you like this makes him feel blue on your behalf. You don’t express it yourself – you never do. You carry your weight with the same kind of strength you always do, never letting anyone see you beyond just that, and sometimes, he wonders if you’re lonely because of it.

At least, now he knows why you’re so sad. You’re heartbroken.

He’s never been acquainted with the feeling himself, has never felt any particular inclination toward it, but he can tell it’s your heart that’s hurting now, and it’s not as easy to heal as that cuts he received on his chest from the butler.

His hat seems to itch the harder he thinks about it, as if there’s something digging at his scalp through his hat. He thought Nami patched it up for him. He tries to scratch at it, but for some reason, it doesn’t cease. Maybe he’s got lice?

He ignores it. “It’s weird. Bunky seems to think you were the one who left him for Shanks.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know. You’re not that kind of person.” He says it so easily, without a smidgen of doubt or hesitation. You look at him through your peripheral vision, and your eyes slightly widen at his statement. “But, do you know what happened between them? Shanks and Bonky, I mean?”

“No, I don’t.” You admit with a shake of your head. You’ve tried to figure it out for years, and at some point, you decided to give up. “Shanks never told me, but whatever it was, it was enough for the stupid clown to leave for… He chose a childish rivalry over me.”

“Then, there you have it. It’s all just a big misunderstanding, so why don’t you just tell him if you meet him again?”

“You seem awfully defensive of the guy who destroyed an entire village and almost drowned you.”

“Yeah, but talking about him seems to make you happy.”

You freeze for a bit, snort, and turn your back to the window frame, leaning back and crossing your arms across your chest in silent resignation. “I tried to explain things to him back in Orange Town, and a fat load of good that did. Like I said, he hates me, and he’s sure as hell not my favorite person at the moment. If we do meet again, it likely won’t end any better than it back in Orange Town.”

“You know, –” Luffy takes another bite of his bread. “It didn’t sound like he hated you.”

“Hmm?” You raise an eyebrow, halfway curious and halfway skeptical.

“He still remembers that you like red apples and that you hide knives in your shoes. Is that true?”

You raise both your eyebrows and look at Luffy like he’s just grown a second head. Without a word, you pull your left foot up until it rests on the bench, and withdraw not one or two knives, but four. Small and subtle, hardly enough to turn any heads, but in a flash, you throw it across the kitchen until it lands on a specific spot on the opposite wall.

Bull’s eye.

“We used to have knife-throwing competitions,” you reminisce idly, staring at the knife lodged deep into the wall. “I was good, but Buggy was better.” Your lip tilts up an inch or two. “We made bets, and whoever lost would have to steal a bottle of whatever liquor we happened to find in the next town we docked at.”

“Oh?”

“I ended up snatching quite a lot of bottles, but once every blue moon, he would have to snatch one instead.” You smile. It’s an actual, genuine, honest smile this time, and Luffy can’t help but marvel at the sight. It’s a rare thing for you to smile like you’re doing now. It’s usually brief or sarcastic and never seems to reach your eyes.

This one does.

He thinks you look pretty when you smile. It’s your smile, and it’s so warm that he wishes you could do it more often. He tells you as much, and a red color falls over your cheek. You promptly turn your face to the other side to save face, and it makes Luffy think.

When he thinks about his dream of becoming King of the Pirates, he can’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear. So, that begs the question: “What is your dream?”

What makes you smile?

“My dream …” You reach for your apple and hold it against your face, the uneaten side of it shining against your face. “Is unattainable.

“I don’t think it is,” Luffy says without missing a beat and takes your hand in his, determined to make you see that. “I think that no matter how much stands against us, dreams are never impossible if you have the will to reach for them. All it takes is a little spirit.”

He doesn’t know where those words come from, but he’s heard them from someplace, and judging by your staggered reaction, you’ve heard them too.

“A little spirit, huh?”

“Exactly! So, please tell me, what’s your dream?”

You look straight ahead into the room, resting your elbows back on the window frame without a word. He thinks you’re about to decline his question or ignore it altogether. However, he’s surprised to hear you actually answer this time, truthfully too.

“My dream was to sail the seas with him again.”

Suddenly, the itchiness on his head stops, and it stays that way.

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #buggy x female reader #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #straw hat pirates #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

tangle of strings

pianoteacher!anakin x student!reader

synopsis: mr. skywalker has been your piano instructor since you were fourteen years old. from the moment you met, you knew he was the one. he never expressed his feelings for you vocally, despite all the time you spent together. but after you turn eighteen and prepare to leave for college, he changes his tune.

w.c: 6.9k

warnings!! {minors dni}, dark content, grooming heavily featured, sexual content occurs after the reader is 18, p in v, fingering, oral, fem!reader, gentle dom!anakin, sub!reader, "loss" of virginity, jealousy, religious themes

the content you consume is your responsibility ♡

The piano is the only thing Mr. Skywalker told you that he loved.

He was never spotted with a girl or anyone for that matter in a romantic sense. He was always single, which never made sense to anyone in your small town because he is handsome. He’s always been handsome. His yearbook pictures from high school proved it.

When you would go over to his house for piano lessons, he would show you many things from his life, like his award cabinet, filled with every trophy and certificate he’s won from piano competitions or his yearbook photos. Those photos were one of the first things he showed you. It was one of your first memories of just you and him.

Mr. Skywalker takes a big stack of books off the shelf in his library all at once. Using his strength to balance the dusty books on his arms, he brings them to the reading table where you sit. He takes off the top one and opens it up before you.

Eventually, you find his picture. You cover your mouth as you giggle. He had thick glasses making him look like a nerd. But he was cute. So, undeniably cute to you. You wish he could be the same age. You would want to be his friend. You would want to kiss him.

If you were the same age, he could be yours.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he muses, his large body looming behind you as he looks over your head to gaze at the picture. “I used to be the kid everyone picked on. When I’d get home, I would write a song about how I was feeling. Some of those songs inspired the ones I play at my shows.”

When he talks, you gush. His warm voice is safe. He’s the kind of person you could tell all your secrets to.

And you did tell him everything you couldn’t tell your parents. You’d tell him your deepest secrets. Like the boys you crushed on. Or your new feelings of lust towards them that caught you off-guard as a teen. He understood you like no one else in the whole world. He was the first to know about your first kiss when you were sixteen. And he seemed… jealous when you told him.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you say. “One moment, we were talking and laughing. And the next thing I know, Drew is pushing me down on the bed to kiss me!” you squeal. “But don’t tell my parents. They’ll think I’m a whore.”

Mr. Skywalker pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I always keep your secrets. Drew is the boy in your history class, correct?”

You nod, amazed that he would remember. The last time you spoke of Drew had been several months ago. But he always pays attention to even the smallest details. That’s how you know he cares.

“I don’t know if he’s good for you,” he mutters, noticeably bitter about something. “Does he really know you? I think… he doesn’t. He’s probably just trying to use you.”

Mr. Skywalker is much older than you. And wiser. So you take his advice to heart. Maybe you shouldn’t see Drew tonight after all.

“How many times have you been kissed?” you ask him, your voice all innocent. Although your motives were anything but pure. While you might have just shared a kiss with Drew, there is one man who is truly the object of your greatest desires. You just haven’t found a way to tell him.

He shakes his head. “You know I’d rather talk about you.” That’s what he says when you pry too deeply into his private life, which only adds to your secret obsession

Anakin has always been the one thing that rivals your obsession with your instrument of choice. And it’s the only secret you kept from him all through high school because you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about you.

Even if the small touches, the secret looks, and long hugs seemed to indicate otherwise. You were too afraid to ask him what it all meant. He never gave that kind of attention to anyone else.

And as an awkward teen, you were furious that you couldn’t express your love to him directly. You kept telling yourself that you would when you’re older. When you turned eighteen, you would confess to him.

Since you couldn’t tell anyone, even him, about this secret, you’d use the piano to share your soul, to put your feelings out into the atmosphere. When you play, no matter where you are, you feel him sitting on the bench beside you, watching over you.

He taught you everything you know now. He’s the reason you chose to major in Piano Performance in college to the great horror of your parents. But what did they expect? They watched you sacrifice your youth for excellence in your craft. The nights were filled with pools of tears, cries, and screams as you played until you got the part, section, or note just right.

When your fingers rest on the ivory keys, you feel him and nothing else. He’s your muse in every song you write.

The piece that won you a full scholarship to your dream university, you wrote it while thinking of Anakin. Your beloved piano teacher. Your closest friend. Your secret love.

He’d been in your life for so long, giving you lessons when you first showed an interest in music. How could you not love him?

He went to the same church that your family attended every Sunday. He played piano sometimes during worship service if the music minister was out on vacation or fell ill. Church was how your father met him, and they became good friends. He often came to your Sunday lunches.

Your mom always cooked fried catfish or fried chicken because that’s what your dad wanted. Mr. Skywalker, as you called him back in your high school years, would eat two plates of food. He’d say things like “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in years,” even if he was at your house just last week. You would laugh the loudest at his jokes. As you think about them now, you realize they weren’t funny, but you’re in love with him so it doesn’t matter.

After lunch, your parents would take care of the food and dishes, giving alone time with him. Like a young pup, you’d follow him outside on the back porch where you’d sit side by side on the creaky old swing.

“Do you cook or bake?” he asks you.

You haven’t the slightest idea of why he’d ask such a thing. You still lived with your parents. Your mom does most of the cooking. Your dad grills sometimes. “No. I get scared that I’ll burn myself.”

Suddenly, he reaches over for your left hand, the closest one to him, from your lap and holds it between his great palms. “Cold,” he whispers. He massages your fingers to revive them. “I wouldn’t want you to burn your hands. They’re so perfect… for playing.”

Anakin looks down at what he’s doing to you and his expression sours. At the time, you don’t know why. You wonder if you said or did something he doesn’t like because the mood changes instantly. He drops your hand and pats your thigh.

“You have piano hands, remember?” he reminds you. He smiles at you, and you feel secure again.

That’s exactly the thing that you always tell him. His hands spread out further than a whole octave, while you struggle to hit the two octave notes simultaneously without pulling a muscle. His fingers are long, and his palms are wide. You can’t compete with that.

You wonder what other things he’s good at with hands like those.

For the entirety of your high school existence, you pined and pined after him. He was always on your thoughts every minute of every day. You never grew sick of daydreaming about him. And on occasion that was reflected in your grades though you maintained a high GPA regardless. Every week was just your going through the motions of life mindlessly, only waiting for two short hours out of the week on Friday which was when you took lessons with him.

You lived solely for those two hours in which he gave you piano lessons free of charge. He said it was because you had such potential, but still to this day, you like to think he reciprocated some of your feelings even before he actually made a move on you.

For those two hours, you would sit right up against him on the leather cushion of the piano bench and play for him whatever pieces you were working on or things he assigned you from the previous week. He was never harsh with you even when you weren’t getting something.

You throw your hands on the keys, striking a dissonant chord that makes you both wince. Mr. Skywalker instantly pulls your hands away.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said with concern. “I promise you’ll get this. It just takes time. I know you practice too much as it is.”

“I want to be good! I want to be a star!” With that, you break down instantly and cry. He never minds when you cry in front of him.

“One day, you will be. I believe in you,” he soothes you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head as if you belong to him. He hugs you. “We can try again when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” you say, leaning against him to hear the echo of his heart. His heartbeat is sensual to you, even at sixteen. You can’t explain it. These stupid hormonal feelings you have for him are so wrong. But when you look up into his passionate eyes, you see the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. You have to marry him. You have to.

From the time you were five, you were afraid of thunder and lightning. Terrified by it actually. The fear is still with you today. But it was so much worse in middle school and high school. You started taking lessons from Anakin when you were fourteen years old. And you were still such a child then. You remembered the time it stormed so hard during your lesson that you had to spend the night at his house because it was too dangerous for your mother to come pick you up. But that also meant you couldn’t hide your abnormal fear of a thunderstorm from Anakin.

He had this giant plush rug under the piano. When you asked him about it, he said that it caught the sound. At the tail end of your lesson, the night you had to stay over, lightning struck close to his house and spooked you so much that you shrieked and slipped under the piano, curling up on that soft rug like a scared puppy.

Anakin was such a sweetheart because he followed you there.

“Hey,” he whispers, rubbing your back, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You cry into your arms, hiding your face. “I know! I know it’s stupid of me. I just—”

“It’s not stupid. We all have different fears.” After he says that, he lies on his back beside you. “But I won’t let the storm hurt you, okay. We can stay here all night.”

And that you did. You cowered under the grand piano in his parlor all night long. That was the first time you ever cuddled with a boy, only he was a man almost twice your age. But that didn’t bother you. And it seemed not to bother him. He let you hold onto him through the night and squeeze him a little harder when you heard thunder. It has been one of your most precious memories of your piano teacher.

You had always known Anakin could be a little jealous. Any time you would mention your school friends the air would get tense, as if he didn’t want you to have anyone else in your life but him. He never said that, but he didn’t have to. There was always rage somewhere beneath the still blueness of his eyes, but his rage was never directed towards you until you told him that Drew wanted you to be his girlfriend.

You were seventeen. And you were so excited to have your first boyfriend even if you weren’t in love with him. At least people might not tease you for still being a virgin because it wouldn’t be so obvious. Anakin never did make fun of you for your innocence. He always said that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready or for the right person.

Immediately after you share the news of your official relationship with Drew, he freezes and closes the lid to the piano keys.

His jaw is tight. His voice is tense. “Maybe... we should be done for today.” He doesn’t even acknowledge what you said, as if he’s afraid to.

But you have no one else to celebrate with. Drew is a secret you keep from them because he’s not involved in church. “Did you hear me?” you press.

He grinds his teeth hard, and you hear bone against bone. Anakin nods. “I did.”

You nudge his arm. “Well?”

“Well what?” he snaps bitterly. He turns slightly to glare at you. “You know how I feel ab—about him.”

You roll your eyes. Anakin is a dramatic guy sometimes. “Drew isn’t that bad. He can be sweet. And he’s going to take me to prom!”

Anakin rises off the piano bench and pats down his black slacks. “So, you don’t care what I think then?” He’s staring down upon you with overwhelming disapproval. The muscles of his arms bulge when he crosses them over his chest.

Palms against the leather cushion, you hold yourself up. You notice yourself trembling when you realize that he’s not teasing you. He’s very upset... with you. Why would he be—does this mean—does he feel something after all?

“Of course, I do, Mr. Skywalker.”

“I told you not to get close with him!” he shouts. You’ve never heard him raise his voice at you. “He has bad intentions. He’s just a dumb kid. What does he know about loving you?”

You start to sob. “I’m sorry. I thought you might be... happy for me?”

He scoffs. And it sounds like you disgust him right now. “I don’t want to hear about him ever again. I don’t want to know anything about your little boyfriend. Do. You. Understand?”

Having him speak to you that way made you feel like a little girl. And you hated that feeling more than anything else. You knew that you were innocent, and you hated yourself for it because it made you feel inadequate to love the man you really wanted.

But now you’d do anything to have that innocence again. You didn’t realize at the time how free you once were. Growing up was harder than you thought it would be. It almost broke you.

You were lucky to have someone like Anakin to build you back up again, even if he was the one that tore you down that time.

After he yelled at you, you rushed out of his home as quickly as you could. The silence lasted a day. And then he drove to your house and knocked on your door. He held in his hands a bouquet of white roses and on his lips was the apology you were waiting for.

Nothing changed between you after that. Until your next birthday came around.

Up to your eighteenth birthday, your interactions were mostly harmless. But when you turned eighteen, an official adult, the tension between you had changed. The energies you both entertained shifted and became... dare you say... sexual to a degree. Anakin seemed to treat you a little differently now that you were fair game.

To celebrate your eighteenth birthday, he was there. In fact, he was the only one you insisted that mother invite. Not Drew or any of your school friends. Just Anakin. And he had to be there because he really was your one true friend. You couldn’t imagine celebrating your birthday without him. He was always a guest at your birthday parties, but he gave you a special gift this year, one so unforgettable that sometimes you hear it clear as day.

Anakin wrote you a piano solo. One that was simple, sweet, and addicting. You told him to play it again and again. After cake and presents, you made him teach you how to play it. You were very proficient now, and often could play things just by hearing them once. But the chords he chose for your song were unique and shouldn’t have meshed so well together. But they did. Just like you and him. Unlikely friends. Star-crossed lovers in your head.

The two of you stayed at the piano all evening, messing around with the song. By the end, you both had figured out how to layer the notes and chords in an even more perfect duet. Playing piano with him was almost the best birthday gift in the world to you. But it was not what you wished for.

You wished for a kiss.

But that would mean you’d have to tell him how you felt. And you were terrified. As an adult, now you could. It was more empowering than you thought it could be.

But you never did find a chance to tell me on your birthday. You were too afraid to ruin your night with a love confession. You know he would do the right thing and reject you, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming for the impossible.

When you walked him outside to his car—you insisted—your secret birthday wish came true. Not in the way you expected. But a kiss did happen. Your piano teacher kissed you on the cheek. Your face burned the whole night through. You couldn’t sleep because you wanted to know what it meant. He had never used his lips to touch any part of you before.

Physical contact had always been an important part of your bond with Anakin since the beginning. There were always the hugs that lasted just a little too long. And he seemed to always find an excuse to hold your hand. But he was your piano teacher, and the hand-to-hand contact always felt necessary and never strange.

But following your very special birthday, you found him staring at you a little longer, a little more deeply, and he seemed to always find an excuse to touch you, not in a sexual way but in a way that led you to believe the attraction wasn’t one sided.

He’d tuck your hair behind your ears, brush the side of your arm, and sit impossibly close to you that you swore you could almost hear his heartbeat. Anakin had never been hesitant to touch you before, but if there were any boundaries before, they were forgotten by him. And you enjoyed it. His new attention made you feel special and wanted. And that was all you ever wanted.

You began to touch him too. And seek physical attention from him. You would nuzzle his arm. Slip your fingers between his. Tap your shoes against his. He’d always notice, and he always hugged you or kissed your cheek in response.

You two were getting closer than ever before. Sometimes... you would barely touch the keys, getting lost in conversation. At this point, Drew and any other boy you were interested in before might as well have been dead. There was only room in your heart for Anakin.

And you had discovered a way to tell him without using your fragile words.

You sit on the bench waiting for him to get off the phone with his mother. She called him shortly after he let you in. About ten minutes later, he comes back.

“Sorry. I was worried she was in trouble,” he says, taking his spot beside you. “Now, where were we last week?”

“We... didn’t really go over anything.”

He bites into his full lower lip with a mischievous look in his eyes. “What are you paying me for then?”

You laugh because you’ve never once paid him for his time. You nudge his thigh with yours. “Honestly, I don’t really think there’s much more you could teach me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh really?”

You nod. “Actually, I’ve been writing something for you.”

His jaw lowers, and his mouth hangs open slightly. “How long have you kept this secret?”

“Since my birthday.”

He slips his arm around your back and rests his hand on your hip. “I’m impressed. Show me?”

You gulp heavily. That had been the plan today. It is ready for him. He’d never judge you even if it were bad. But you know that it’s not. You know that he’ll know what this piece means. He knows you too well. He’s too perceptive of everything. You wrote it in his favorite key, C minor.

With your hands a little shaky, your fingers glide softly across the piano and press down powerfully in chords. Through music, you profess your love. Anakin sits beside you and waits for you to finish. When you do, he’s waiting, staring with tears thickening his dark eyelashes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything, but you know... he knows how you feel.

You tug on his shirt, drawing him closer. A war of heart and mind reflects on his face. He’s doubting what he wants. His resistance is half-hearted. It isn’t long before he scoops you up in his arms and kisses you. This time his mouth is on your lips, wetting them, and tugging them apart to fill you with his tongue.

Drew was never this good. His mouth was sloppy and tight. Anakin kisses like he’s done this a thousand times before. And he kisses like he wants you. Like he’s wanted you for such a long time, despite how wrong you both know that is.

He holds you down in his lap, and you hug him tightly, carding your fingers through his dreamy hair. You start to feel lightheaded because you haven’t been able to breathe, but you don’t want to stop him. If you stop him, he might think and realize that he doesn’t want you anymore.

But you’re dying. Turning blue. You tap his shoulder. And he stops devouring you. His lips sparkle when he smiles. “Too much for you, baby?”

You sharply inhale, finally catching your breath. You shake your head. You want more. You need it. More isn’t even enough.

You spend the whole lesson entangled with one another until your mother comes to pick you up.

For the next month, that’s all you did. Kiss and kiss and kiss. Breathe and breathe and breathe. And kiss some more. You wondered why he was waiting to take you to his bed. You wanted that with him, but he never asked you to go that far. He seemed afraid. Even when his affection was overflowing in passion as you always knew it would be, it was clear that he was holding himself back. Did he need you to tell him what to do?

Your make out sessions extended beyond just your lesson time. Whenever he would come over to your house, he would go upstairs with you to your bedroom, and you’d end up tangled in the sheets. Though with every item of clothing on. Your parents never suspected anything was happening to their young, virtuous daughter. They trusted him completely. And so did you. You would have done anything he asked of you no matter the risks.

Even at church, he’d find a way to get you alone. In the girl’s bathroom. During the preacher’s sermon.

Anakin lifts you onto the sink and spreads your legs out so that he can fit between them and get close to you. Thumb under your chin, he tilts your face up to his. He grins before going in for a kiss.

Your lavender baby doll dress rides up your thighs as he inches closer. He presses up against the crotch of your panties. The dampness is cold against your tender flesh. His erection only grows as the friction between you builds, your bodies rubbing against each other in a clothed attempt to satisfy yourselves sexually.

And now you’re glad you waited and didn’t mess around with Drew like he wanted when you were together. Because that means Anakin could be your very first.

He freezes up when you try to unbuckle his big belt. Anakin looks at you strangely, almost disturbed by your actions.

You lean to his ear and whisper, “I. Want. It.” You had thought your seductive voice would be enough to cast him off the edge of all hesitation, that he’d bend to your will and give you what you want.

But all you did was kill the fire.

Head shaking, he backs away. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

And you didn’t see him for nearly a month after that. But you don’t regret what you said. You were tired of just endless make out sessions. It seemed so immature, and you knew you were ready for something real.

All of those memories, those beautiful capsules of your favorite times with Anakin, are the reason you find yourself on his doorstep, a quarter till midnight in the pouring rain.

Complete desperation.

You took your moms car without permission just to drive over despite the threat of a storm. And you’re still deathly afraid of them. But you came anyway. Because tomorrow, you’re leaving for college. You might not get another chance to fix things. Death would be better than living another moment without him.

“You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls, Anakin.”

The door is barely cracked open, just enough that you can see his pale face. Dark circles surround his rainy eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, not even making eye contact.

Thunder echoes behind you. The wind blows your hair around. Leaves rustle, filling the silence between you both. It’s going to storm soon. You had been stupid enough to drive to his house just before a storm. But you couldn’t take not knowing what had happened to him and why he was dodging your calls.

The eyes that used to linger a little too long won’t acknowledge you even as you stand in front of him.

“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you!” you nearly scream. You’re so afraid that he’s not only pushing you away but also ejecting you from his life completely, as if the memories you share can be erased. He’s engrained in almost every memory you have.

“It can’t happen. Go away.”

He tries to close the door on you, but you stick the toe of your right shoe in the crack before it shuts.

“Please… please don’t do this.”

Anakin’s eyes are bloodshot as if he’s been crying. “What I want isn’t right. I can’t do it. I don’t know if I could live with myself after.”

Does he really hate me so much? Is that the truth? Perhaps it’s your naivety, but you won’t let him go so easily. You have suffered in silence for nearly a decade, pining after him, waiting for him to reciprocate the depth of your feelings. Your hands shake as you reach out to him. If he would just… hold your hand like he used to, then maybe everything would be alright.

Your fingertips brush against each other. You feel the spark instantly, and it travels down your spine, leaving you wanting to touch him more.

“What about what I want?”

Anakin blinks several times before he speaks. It’s as if he didn’t consider your feelings in this decision. “You’re… not in a position to see things clearly. You’re—”

“Don’t say it!” you exclaim, squeezing your fists. “I’m not a child. I’m all grown up. And you know it. You see it.”

Anakin sighs a long time, his eyes scanning down your body. “Of course, I see it. But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Though you can never overpower him, you still try to force the door open. “Just let me in. We can talk. Just let me talk to you.”

Anakin’s frown is firm, and his stillness enforces that he’s not backing down. “I don’t know. If I let you in… if you cry… I’ll want to hold you. Then things might happen. I don’t know if I can control myself around you.”

Hugging yourself, you gaze upwards, into eyes that finally meet yours. His eyes reveal his mourning, his grief, his lust. It’s the latter that sends shivers through your body. The knowing that he wants you is more than you can take.

“I don’t want you to.”

There.

You said it.

You have told him exactly what you want. And if you hadn’t made it painfully obvious before, he knows now that you’re no longer thinking like a little girl.

Following a sigh of defeat, he backs away from the door, and you move in.

All the lights are off in his home. He must have been sitting in the dark like a vampire. The piano lid is open. He never left it open unless he was actively playing.

Anakin strides across the room to seat himself on the piano bench. He taps the spot next to him. “You’re right.... We should talk. Talk. Nothing more.”

Sitting beside him here feels like the most natural thing in the world. Here, you’re not afraid to speak from the heart. He’d never judge you even if he disagrees. But you’re not so sure he disagrees this time.

He wants you too.

“I couldn’t let you go back. I can’t believe you drove in the rain.”

You shrug. “It’s just rain. The storm hasn’t—”

The windows flash like they would in a horror flick, and thunder comes after. With a whimper, you grab onto his arm.

“I can drive you back home once we talk,” he says emotionlessly, gently pulling you off him.

But you double down and grab his arm, tugging him back again. “Don’t push me away.”

He doesn’t do it again. He stills. And sighs. “That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

With your chin resting on his sleeve, you look up at him, wide-eyed. “Just kiss me like you always do. And don’t think about it.” You stretch your arm out and fiddle with the top button of his dress shirt. “I’m not thinking.”

His chest rises and falls with his breaths. He doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his shirt.

When you rise on your knees, you’re at eye level. He’s so much bigger than you even now. He makes you feel so small. Holding onto his arm, you lean close and peck his clean-shaven cheek. He winces as if you pricked him with a needle.

“Angel, I shouldn’t.”

You kiss him again, closer to his lips, almost tasting him. “It’s me. Don’t you want me?”

Finally, he turns and looks in your eyes. Then at your mouth. “Don’t tell anyone. You... understand how this might look. What they might say about—”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” you whisper. “What’s one more?”

You finish unbuttoning his shirt for him. Taking care of him feels good. You run your fingertips down his chest and his abdomen. His bare skin. It’s soft and warm. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist.

“Cold hands,” he murmurs. He takes your hands between them. He rubs his hands over your fast to warm them with friction.

“Sorry.”

Still rubbing your hands, he stands and leads you to the back of his grand piano near the flashing window.

Any other time, you would be trembling in fear because of the loud storm, but tonight you’re trembling because of the new feelings bubbling inside you. You’ve never been so aroused before.

“Can I hold you?” he says as pulls you into his embrace.

You can hear his steady heartbeat and feel it pumping right against your sensitive ear. Your piano teacher holds you against him and tangles his talented fingers in your hair. He sniffs your neck before taking a bite. His teeth pinch your flesh, and his tongue soothes you. The pain he leaves in several spots along your neck means that he’s marked you as his.

Your own heart is racing at lightning speed. You can’t think. In his arms, you’re helpless to his whims. You need him to tell you what to do. All you want is to please him.

“I’ll do anything,” you whisper to him so weakly you question if he hears you.

Anakin slowly unzips the back of your dress. “Consider this a teaching moment.” His voice doesn’t sound like it usually does. The undertones are sultry and possessive. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to—” He stops to pull down your dress, and his eyes wander over your pretty body. You wore transparent lace underwear and a matching bralette. He can see everything you hide from the rest of the world.

And he tells you, “You’re perfection.”

That makes you want to kiss him so badly. You try to lift yourself to reach his lips, but he’s too tall.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I want you to lay down first.” He guides you under the piano.

You lie down on your back atop the giant rug. Instantly, relaxation takes over as you remember all the times you used to lie here with him, hiding from the storm. Never did you think this would be the place where you’d give yourself to him. This must be meant to be.

He follows you after fully undressing. His body is every inch a man’s. His size makes you feel so small. He runs the risk of crushing you with his weight.

Lying on his side, he looks down at you, watching his own fingers running under the elastic of your lacy panties. “Take these off and spread your legs.” He whispers kisses to your cheek. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Nodding, you do as you’re told and wiggle out of your underwear. He snatches them from you and crunches them in his hands before throwing them over his shoulder. You proceed with fanning your legs open. The air is frigid as it touches you.

Anakin is looking where no one else has. “I’m so proud of you for waiting. Saving yourself just for me.”

You gasp as he kisses you between your legs. He kisses you there for a long time. It feels strange and wonderful. The feeling building inside you makes you moan and your toes curl. You feel so good your body aches. You hear your own heartbeat. You breathe but can’t find relief. Nothing soothes the need inside you but his mouth, his lips, his tongue. And before long you hit the breaking point, pleasure storming through your body from your place beneath him. Your cries are dampened by the thunderous sounds outside, but he hears you. He stops to look at your face. Making eye contact with him heightens the vulnerability of the situation. The intense way he looks at you burns. He notices every little change in your expression.

Anakin knows he made you feel good, but he still asks, “Did you like that?” He brushes the wild strands of hair away from your face. You know you’re precious to him. He sweetly kisses your forehead. “I like your taste.”

Your cheeks are seared by that comment. You cover your eyes, not wanting to let him see how he’s affecting you. “I did like it.”

“Do you want to do more?” He kisses your lips this time, and you taste yourself. “I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready!” you lift your head up and cup his cheek. “Don’t make me wait longer. I’m leaving tomorrow.” You bite your lip, knowing how dangerous what you’re about to say is because of who you’re saying it to. “Do you really want some college guy to be the one who gets me first?”

As if trying to reject the image you gave his mind, he closes his eyes and tightens his jaw. “No,” is his short answer. From the way his lips are pressed together, you know he wants to say more, but he’s saving you from his own selfish anger.

“Me either.” You rub his cheek with your thumb. “Anakin,” it feels right to call him by his first name instead of Mr. Skywalker, “I’ve waited for you. I always knew this would happen.”

He chuckles lightly. “I never gave you permission to use my name. Don’t forget—” he grunts as he slides two of his fingers between your slick folds and pushes them inside, “your manners, young one.”

These same fingers were the ones that rested atop yours when you were first learning to play piano. They pointed to the right key when you played the wrong note. They pointed to the sheet music to guide you along for all these years. They held your hands when they were cold.

And now he’s using them to teach you something new. But he’s just as skilled at fingering you as he is with music. You’re like his new instrument. He’s plucking all the right strings in just the right way to make you cry out for him. With your body pliant, he controls when you come. He doesn’t make you wait for it. He uses his thumb too and nudges until you come. It’s wetter than the last. And he instructs you to lick his fingers off when he’s done.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks again. “Don’t hate me for asking.” He hangs his head a little.

What he doesn’t understand is how insatiable he’s caused you to be. There were so many times you thought you might explode from how desperately you wanted him. But now it’s okay if that does happen.

“Keep going. Please,” you beg. You’re not ready to stop. You’ve waited for this moment since you were fourteen years old. If it were up to you, you’d live here forever.

“If that’s what you really want,” Anakin moves from lying at your side to settling himself between your legs.

“It is,” you reassure him. Holding onto his neck, you pull yourself up a bit. “Can you kiss me too?”

He grins before pushing you down, his large hand spread out over your soft stomach, and he chases your lips as you fall. You’re partially distracted by his mouth as his cock slides inside you. You had expected it to be more of a challenge, all things considered. Throughout high school, your friends always complained about how much it hurt their first time. Some girls bled too. And that had scared you, which is one of the reasons you never took Drew up on his many offers of a “good time.” Deep down you knew he wouldn’t treat you right. But Anakin clearly is experienced with having sex. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as you thought he had been all those years.

This being your very first time, it does sting when he fills you completely, his bony hips pressed against yours. You feel the tightness and the stretch. But you enjoy how it feels. You’re so close to passing out just because this is as close as you can get to someone.

Anakin rocks in and out slowly. Maybe he can feel that you’re tired. He’s being gentle with you despite how much he wants to rail your cunt to shreds. You can tell when he’s holding himself back. He has that weary, pained look in his rainy eyes. A part of you wants to tell him that it’s okay. Let go. But you both know that you couldn’t handle the full extent of his lust.

“Can I come inside you?” he asks before sinking his teeth into a bruise along your neck.

Short of breath, you answer, “I said... anything.”

“Okay,” his shaky voice whispers. He buries his face into the curve of your neck and moans your name into your skin. He pulls your hair gently as he finishes, his heat spreading through your core. It’s so much that you feel it leaking out.

After, he holds you there all night long. He doesn’t let you leave. And you wouldn’t want to escape.

The three words he says to you as you leave his house the morning after, you realize that he’s lied to you all the years you’ve known him.

The piano isn’t his only love or his only obsession.

It’s an outlet, and yet a mask for his sin nature which you understand more deeply than any other girl ever will.

He’s kept his real obsession hidden from everyone but you.

add yourself to my taglist!! @hanasnx @princessswifie @doblasftcisco @multifandermissesanakin @jadegmfu @coldkiss @mysteriouslydelightfulcloud @karei009 @anda-the-valkyrie @avoxzy @edclynns @ter-luer @anakinniesluv @purelevna @forets-noyees @anisgirl7 @reine-lalune @ssskywalkerrr @anakinsbbgirl @sweetcheesecakesblog @moonlight-kr @anonymous1996s @luvanaise @ziggystarduzzt @gwdnsqal @lonelywitchv2 @tembud @obsessedrebel @c-losur3 @just-here-to-readd @slut4ani @abaker74 @anakinbbg @ellebunnie @sandymorgan12 @ultraviolenceticket @emotionallybruisedx @ririszn @itsoneofusworld @pheonixfucu @kittycai @mushy-mushroom04 @crack240 @emotionallybruisedx

@universallypiratecolor

inbox me if you want to be removed from the taglist. ty

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voxisdaddy · 3 months

Text

You

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Angst

Featuring: A lil bit of Alastor

"I really wanted it to be you. So badly. Until I understood that you didn't want it to be me." -b00zell

“I really wanted it to be you”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Never in the decades that Vox has been in hell that he thought he’d find someone who just gets him the way you do. It almost blew him away. It’s ironic he’s asking but-were you hypnotizing him? No. Of course not. But no one could deny that you had him wrapped around your finger. And you barely had to do anything. You were just… you. The way you smiled, laughed, carried yourself, spoke, touched him, ect. Everything you did was just normal things and yet it seemed like it meant everything because it was you. He remembers one night when you showed up in casual clothing to a fancy dinner date. He remembers how embarrassed and apologetic you were-the name of the restaurant didn’t seem all that impressive at the time. And despite your initial worries that you embarrassed your perfectionist boyfriend that night, the cyan electric current that flashed into a heart shape from the tips of his antenna’s was enough to make you feel flustered for a completely different reason. Hell is forever. And since that night, he felt his forever with you would be the most enjoyable.

“So badly.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ VoxTek and Vox’s status as an Overlord just kept growing and growing which meant things change. For the better-he thought. Of course his beloved wanted to see him be as successful as can be. But as the success kept going, the more your lives seemed to not matter as it once did before. Weekly date nights turned into monthly date nights. No longer would you go to bed together and wake up either entangled in each other’s limbs or one of you snuggling into the other. Good morning kisses before he leaves for work? Yeah… good luck catching him before he’s out the door. Home cooked meals? Sweetheart-why bother when he can just order the highest quality meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? His mood swings worsened-if even possible-and soon coming home to a partner that’s already sleeping would just make him more agitated. Marriage was casually brought up by Velvette-something about wanting to make wedding dresses for an upcoming fashion show-he doesn’t quite remember. His inner fans were working hard in his head as the thought of you in a wedding dress kept him deep in thought. Perhaps rings binding you two together legally would reunite some spark. Yes. Surely it would!

“Until I understood,”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was some dumb argument. Something small and meaningless. But the stress and constant work days Vox faced paired with your loneliness and bitterness that started growing however long ago seemed to have erupted. Things were said. Tears were shed-mainly from you. When things calmed down, Vox foolishly thought you’d be in his arms all night as you had makeup sex just like all the times previously-wait what do you mean you’re done? Their was no more shouting and tears that night but everything remained tense and heavy. Very bitterly and painfully Vox huffed as you packed a bag. You’re not serious. You’ll come back to him and everything will be okay.

“that you didn’t want it to be me.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It had been several years. For months he tried everything to win you back until one day you just vanished. That was impossible. He had cameras everywhere in the Pride Ring. He would have noticed. An extermination wasn’t due for months at that point so you wouldn’t have been taken. What happened? One day Alastor showed up after being gone doing god knows what. Vox was of course angry about Alastor but couldn’t help and be filled with little rejoice when he finally saw you on his monitors again. That was rather short lived when rumours spread that Alastor had taken a lover and had spent 7 years on honeymoon with them. You know… Vox is incapable of crying, at least in the typical sense. His head wouldn’t allow it. So then how come seeing that ring wrapped around your finger make him feel like he could do the literal impossible?

“I really wanted it to be you…”

I hope I did okay for my first one lol. This took longer to come out than I thought it would. I’m only a smidge over 24 hours so it still counts right, RIGHT?!???? I’m kidding. Thanks for reading!

💕🌸

#Hazbin Hotel #Vox x Reader #Hazbin Hotel Vox #Hazbin Hotel Vox x Reader #Angst #Vox HH

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

Text

Finally Home

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!military doctor!reader (r is Lucy's adopted sister)

Summary: You enlist your boyfriend Tim to help you surprise your (adoptive) sister Lucy after being deployed for several months.

Warnings: brief angst and depictions of loneliness/depression, then lots of fluff!

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Being adopted into the Chen family continues to be the best thing that ever happened to you. It didn’t help your shyness much, but the love and sense of belonging you’ve found outweigh all the bad you’ve experienced. When you joined the military, becoming a military doctor, you overcame your shyness enough to be a great doctor. However, when you stop being a doctor, you’re back to the shy sister Lucy knows and loves.

The last time you were stateside, you met Tim Bradford and fell for him quickly. During the six months you were home, Tim learned nearly everything there is to know about you, and he loves all of you.

Now, in your seventh month stationed in Europe, you look forward to your weekly call home. You call one of two numbers: Tim or Lucy. They’re always together when it’s time to answer, so you know you’ll get a chance to talk to both of them and grow shy from across an ocean. Your dog is sitting beside you as the call begins.

“Hey, sis!” Lucy greets happily when the line connects.

The picture is blurry today, but you smile when you see your sister. She’s in her uniform, in an empty office at the police station. Being seven hours ahead means you usually catch her or Tim while they’re at work.

“Hi,” you answer. “Is Tim there?”

“He’s actually on patrol,” she answers. “I’m sorry; there’s a huge problem here right now so they’ve got a ton of people out there.”

“That’s okay. How are you?”

Lucy looks up when a door opens and turns the computer away.

“I’m pretty good. I want to hear about you, though, because not much has changed here.”

“Move,” Tim demands.

You can only see his hand as he reaches for the computer, and you duck away from the camera as they compete for your attention.

“Chen,” Tim says.

“Which one?” you ask.

“The one whose badge I can take. Just let me say hello.”

“Why don’t you just sit together?” you suggest. “Not to say I don’t enjoy this.”

Tim huffs as he pulls a chair beside Lucy, forcefully turning the computer so you can see both of them. He smiles, and you forget what you were going to say.

“Any word on when you’ll be home next?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing. I’m hoping to hear something soon though. There isn’t much happening, so they’ll probably need to move me soon anyway.”

“Then they should let you call more often,” Tim comments.

“I agree. I miss you.”

Tim elbows Lucy gently.

“She meant both of us,” Lucy argues. “Didn’t you?”

You nod and look up suddenly.

“I have to go,” you explain. “I’m so sorry. I love both of you and I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”

“I love you,” Tim replies.

“Love you, sis. Be safe,” Lucy adds just before the call ends. “I miss her, Tim.”

“I know.”

Lucy continues staring at the blank screen, and Tim asks her about something he noticed days ago.

“What’s going on?”

“I just- I’m sad all the time. I don’t know if it’s just because she’s gone because I’ve been dealing with her deployments for years, but the only thing I want, have wanted for weeks, is to see her. It’s hard doing everything without her when she’s the only person I want to share things with.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“Bradford, Chen, we need you back out there when you’re done. This crime spree is getting worse each time we try to make progress,” Wade says.

“Lets go, well ride together,” Tim offers.

“Like the good old days!”

“I hope not exactly like those.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Superiors are giving you a choice,” your MC commander begins. “Transfer to Germany or temporary leave before being stationed in Fort Bliss, Texas.”

“What would I be doing in Texas, sir?” you ask.

“Continued training and teaching, mostly. And the temporary leave is only two months, but after all this time in Europe I assume you’d return to sunny Los Angeles.”

“I’d like to take the Fort Bragg position, sir.”

“Okay, I’ll let the Surgeon General’s office know. I’m sorry to have interrupted your call; video broadcast has ended, but if you’d like to make a phone call, share the good news, go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir.”

You walk into a private office, dialing Tim’s number and hoping he’s alone. Lucy has been down the last two times you’ve talked. She hides it well, but you’re her sister and can see through her.

“Bradford,” Tim answers.

“Chen,” you reply. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah, I am. What’s going on?”

“Is my sister okay? She’s seemed really sad.”

Tim sighs before he answers, “She misses you. A lot.”

“Then I need your help with something. I’m coming home.”

“When?” Tim asks. “I mean, I’ll help you with anything, but I’m so happy to get to see you again.”

You press your lips together, feeling heat rising in your cheeks.

“I should be there in a week or so, but I’ll let you know a date when I have one.”

“Okay. And the help?”

“I want to surprise Lucy. Any ideas?”

“Well, there is a restaurant she can’t stop talking about.”

“Tim? I’m going to be home for two months.”

“I get you for two months?”

“I can’t wait,” you answer sarcastically.

“Give me a date and time and I’ll get Lucy there.”

“Will she get suspicious?”

“Who do you think I am? She won’t have a clue.”

✯✯✯✯✯

A week later, Lucy has been checking her phone nonstop. She hasn’t heard from you since you abruptly ended the last call, and her concern and sadness about missing you are beginning to overflow. All of her fellow cops have noticed, so when you call and ask a few of them to meet at Lucy’s favorite restaurant to cheer her up, they happily agree.

“Get ready,” Tim demands at the end of the shift. “We’re going to dinner.”

“Why?” Lucy asks.

“Because we’re both worried and need a distraction. She’s fine, but you’re going to make yourself sick worrying like this, Lucy.”

“Okay. Give me ten minutes. Where are we going?”

“Your favorite.”

Lucy smirks as she walks to the locker room. Tim checks his phone but hasn’t received any message saying you landed.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Easy, boy,” you whisper, patting your dog over the Military K-9 vest as the plane lands.

The other passengers are kind enough to let you get your duffel bag and exit the plane first, rushing to the car rental counter and leaving for the restaurant. You’re running late, and don’t even think about letting Tim know you’re back in Los Angeles. As you park, seeing the ‘Service Animals Welcome’ sign on the door, you realize you forgot to tell Tim your dog is with you.

“Let’s go introduce you to my family.”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you call Tim.

“Hey,” he answers. “I don’t have long before your sister shoves me over a balcony to talk to me.”

“Patio?” you ask, smiling.

“Yep.”

“I’ll be over in a minute.”

“Is that my sister?” Lucy asks, attempting to pull Tim’s arm away from his ear to take the phone.

“Tim, I have to go. I love you. Tell Lucy I said hi,” you say before ending the call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Lucy sits down, dejected. She tries to enjoy the appetizers and her friends sitting around her, but she wishes you were at the party. The door opens, and Lucy glances over before picking up her head and giving her full attention to the person walking through the door. Her jaw drops as she watches you walk toward her, a dog at your side. Lucy’s shock turns to a smile as she jumps from her seat to hug you. As you return her hug, smiling as you whisper how happy you are to see her, Tim’s hand covers yours as he takes the leash from you.

“Hey, bud,” he says to the dog. “Lucy, could I get a turn?”

“No,” she says against your shoulder.

“Hi, Tim,” you greet, turning your face away when he smiles.

“Hiding from my smile,” he muses. “Can you survive two months with me?”

“Two months?!” Lucy repeats, pulling back.

“I like your dress,” you murmur, seeing her for the first time in too long. “And, yes, I have two months of leave before I move to Fort Bliss.”

“Where is that?”

“Texas.”

“You’re staying stateside?” Tim interjects, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug, turning in his arms to hug him.

“Welcome home,” he says, kissing your jaw as his arms tighten around you.

“Thanks for helping me with the surprise.”

“I’ll always be here with you.”

“So will I!” Lucy adds.

“Are you going to fight to hug me now?” you ask.

“Yes!” everyone at the table answers.

“And you brought a dog!” Lucy cheers, lowering her hand to pet your dog.

“I love you,” Tim says, pulling a chair out so you can sit between him and Lucy.

“I love you,” you reply softly. “I have one more thing I didn’t tell you, though.”

“What?” Lucy and Tim ask together.

“The position I took is a teaching job, so I’ll have more time to visit.”

They hug you simultaneously, no longer fighting over who gets to go first. You drop your chin towards Tim’s arm and smile. When your dog puts his paws in your lap and joins the hug, you know you are finally home. Sitting at a table with the two people you love most in the world, you know the next two months will be amazing, even if you're shy the entire time.

#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #lucy chen #requests #fem!reader

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thoseboysinblue · 2 months

Text

Be Mine

Christian Pulisic x reader

Christian plans a romantic Valentine's date for the two of you.

Wordcount: 3100+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, smut

A/N: This is a follow up to the pairing from Mistletoe Magic. I had intended to post this before Valentine's but the days got away from me. Feedback is always appreciated.

You smile as the Milan players line up before the match. Christian searches for you in the crowd, a brief smile dances across his lips when his eyes meet yours. You can't deny the flutter of butterflies and flicker of heat that makes its way to your core at the sight of him in their new black kit.

Damn he looks good, you think to yourself as you chew on your bottom lip. It's been nearly two months since you first kissed under the mistletoe. During that time, you've both tried your best to see each other as much as possible. You'd already had several trips planned out, which made it more difficult to work your schedule around his, but you had changed some of your plans to bring you back to Milan when you could.

You had been friends for quite some time, so getting to know one another wasn't really an issue, but it had been nice speaking with him nearly daily to fill one another in on your day to day lives.

A few weeks ago, you met up with him and his parents when he had a few days off and chose to spend them exploring some of the areas in northern Italy. During that time, you realized that the feelings you had for him had completely bubbled to the surface.

Even though you have spent several nights together since that first kiss, you haven't taken the leap into anything sexual after deciding that both of you wanted to make sure this is right before completely throwing your friendship aside for something different, something more.

But seeing him in that kit, has you aching for him in a way you haven't quite felt before. You have nearly a full week with him now, planning to spend Valentine's Day together and watch his Europa League match prior to leaving for your next trip.

The stadium is electric for their win over Napoli. After the match, you find your way to the designated area for family and friends to wait for the players. Christian makes his way over to you and pulls you into a warm hug, placing a barely there kiss to your neck that sends a shiver up your spine before he intertwines his fingers with yours.

"You ready?" he grins at you once you've finished chatting with the handful of teammates of his you've met. You nod as he leads you towards the area where the players park.

Once inside his car he leans over the console and runs his hand along your jaw before pulling you towards him and kissing you. His tongue runs across the seam of your lips and he moans softly into your mouth when you allow him to deepen the kiss.

He pulls away from you naturally and whispers "hi" against your lips. You chuckle and whisper, "hey" back to him before pecking him again on the lips.

There is an undeniable tension between you as he drives you back to his house.

"You played well," you smile at him as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it before settling your intertwined fingers over your lap.

"Thank you, I'm glad you were there," he smiles back, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I like the new kit," you hum absentmindedly.

"Yeah?" he chuckles noticing the way you bite your bottom lip when you nod slightly.

You stop and grab some takeout before finishing the drive to his house. Once inside, he stops you at the door and places a kiss to your lips. "Wait here for a couple of minutes," he smiles sheepishly at you before disappearing down the hallway.

He returns a few moments later, "close your eyes" he grins as you do as he asks and he takes your hands and leads you into the kitchen. He settles himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Ok, you can open them," he whispers against your jaw placing a light kiss there.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the display in front of you, a large bouquet of red roses, candles flickering, and fresh Italian deserts.

"I know I'm a little early, but will you be my valentine?" he whispers against the shell of your ear.

You turn to face him and wrap your hands around the back of his neck and whisper "yes, of course," before kissing him slowly as he pulls you closer to him leaving no space between the two of you, a soft groan escaping his lips as his hardened cock presses against you.

Warmth spreads through your chest as you realize he wants you just as much as you want him. You break away from the kiss sharing a brief, shy smile before putting your take away meals on plates.

As you're eating dinner, he explains that he's made reservations at a restaurant in the city for Valentine's dinner and that was his reasoning for asking earlier, telling you that the two of you would need to go shopping for cocktail attire.

"Shopping in Milan sounds terrible," you grin at him.

"I asked Oli for suggestions of nice places to take you, so if it's terrible, blame him," he chuckles.

Your heart flutters at the effort he's gone to in plannng a nice evening for the two of you.

"Something tells me that Oli is probably solid in the romance department," you chuckle reaching over to lay your hand on top of his, "thank you," you whisper.

The tension between the two of you is palpable as you turn on some music and clean up the minimal mess from your meal.

Just as you are finishing cleaning up, "I Wanna be Yours" by the Arctic Monkeys begins to play. A shiver runs up your spine as Christian steps behind you and grips onto your hips. He runs his nose along the column of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent before turning you around and taking your hands and placing them behind his neck.

You dance slowly for a few moments as your heart races. He swallows dryly as he stares into your eyes praying that you are feeling the exact same way he is. You instinctively bite your bottom lip and he brings his thumb up to brush over it, pulling it gently from between your teeth before he kisses you tantalizingly slow until your breathing becomes ragged.

He kisses you like there is nothing else he would rather be doing and like he has all the time in the world. He lifts you up onto the counter and steps between your legs tucking your hair behind your ear before kissing you again.

"Be mine," he whispers against your lips.

Your eyes flutter open to be met with his dark, pleading eyes; two pools of perfectly dark amber that you could lose yourself in.

"I wanted to wait until Valentine's to ask you, but I can't stand it," he smiles softly at you.

You thread your fingers into the back of his hair, leaning in to kiss him again before kissing your way to his jaw and neck. After kissing over the freckle just below his ear and watching as his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, you whisper "I'm yours" into his ear.

A flicker of a smile dresses his lips before he crashes them against yours. He grips your hips and pulls you closer to him as he swallows a soft moan from you.

When you wrap your legs around his waist he lifts you off of the counter and carries you to his room. He settles you onto your feet gently. Nipping at your bottom lip, "we don't have to do anything, y/n" he says quietly as he searches your features, "I was hoping to make this a bit more romantic you know," he chuckles.

"Christian," you sigh, reaching for the hem of his shirt, "romance is nice, but I don't need it, I just need you," you lift his shirt gently until he pulls it over his head.

He watches as your eyes shamelessly rake over his body. Of course you've see him shirtless before, but this is obviously different. "I'm all yours," he whispers as you use your fingertips to trace over the tattoo on his chest. He shivers in response when you kiss delicately over where his heart is hammering away.

He can't deny he's enjoying the way you're looking at him, your eyes filled with need.

"May I?" he questions lowly as he grips onto the bottom of the shirt you're wearing with his fingertips.

You nod and raise your arms over your head to allow him to slip your shirt off of you. "Fuck" he curses quietly as he glances down to the black lace bra you are wearing. You'd put it on hoping for that very reaction from him.

"So pretty," he mumbles as he dips his head to kiss over the tops of your breasts. He takes your bra off of you easing you towards his bed. He loosens his joggers letting them fall to the floor as you shimmy out of the jeans you are wearing leaving you only in your black lace thong.

He takes a moment to take you in, a quiet whimper escaping his lips as he shakes his head.

"You're unreal," he smiles softly at you as you both settle on the bed.

"You're not too bad, yourself" you grin at him as he hovers his body over yours leaning down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he brings one hand up to caress over your breast rubbing his thumb teasingly over your nipple before he drops his head to pull the sensitive flesh into his mouth.

He hums against you when you arch you back forcing more of your nipple into his mouth. He intertwines his fingers with your pressing one of your hands above your had as he switches to flick his tongue over your other nipple until you're panting and moaning his name.

"You sound so pretty moaning my name like that, baby," he says as he kisses a trail down the center of your abdomen until he reaches the top of your underwear.

"Let's see if we can make you moan it some more, huh?" he glances up to you waiting for your consent before you lift your hips so that he can slide your underwear down your legs.

He teasingly kisses from one ankle up to the top of your thigh before repeating the same up the other leg. Your hips buck involuntarily as he inches his way closer to where you desperately need him.

He chuckles against your thigh, "ok, ok, I get it" he grins at you, "I'm gonna take such good care of you, you don't even know."

He hums as he dips his tongue into your entrance and you gasp. "All this for me, baby?" he whispers against you as he teases your folds with his tongue, working in long and languid strokes, before sucking lightly on your clit.

"Fuck, Christian," you breathe out.

He wraps one arm around your thigh as you catch a glimpse of his tattoos before he uses that arm to hold you in place. Your back arches against him, your head rolling to the side on the pillows as you bring one hand to your mouth to try to quieten your moans.

"Don't you dare do that," he mumbles against you, "I want to hear every single one of them." He reaches up and pulls your hand from your face before sliding it down towards your breast.

"Touch yourself, y/n," his voice suddenly taking a commanding tone. You're almost shocked at how quickly you comply by rolling your nipple between your fingers, your other hand coming down to tangle into the short curls at the top of his head.

He slides two fingers into you, pumping them a few times before curling them against your g-spot.

"Chris, fuck, please, I need you," you pant out through your uneven breathing.

"I'm gonna make you cum first," he says quickly before latching back on to your clit.

"No, no, I want you, Christian, please," you groan.

He lifts his head to look into your eyes, "listen, I'm worried I'm not going to last more than a couple of strokes once I get inside of you, so I'm making you cum first," he blushes slightly.

"And they say romance is dead," you giggle.

He chuckles before flicking his tongue over you again, his fingers working in tandem to push you towards the edge. You clench around his fingers, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"I can't wait to feel you squeezing my cock like this," he breathes out as he continues what he's doing. He can tell by the way your fingers are gripping tighter into his hair and how you are thrashing against him that you are close.

"I've got you baby, let go for me," he says before sucking on your clit one more time and curling his fingers perfectly inside of you forcing you over the edge with a quiet moan of his name. Your legs nearly clamp around his head as he slows his movements and eases you through your high. He slowly uses his tongue to clean you up before pressing soft kisses to your thighs and over your pubic bone as you both work to steady your breathing.

He kisses his way up to your neck, his face there for a few moments. "You good?" he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. You nod in response, closing your eyes as you take a few more deep breaths before pressing your lips against his.

You moan at the taste of yourself when he swirls his tongue around yours. You reach for the waistband of his boxers pushing at them, silently telling him you want him to take them off.

"You sure? There's no going back after this," he tilts his head back to make steady eye contact with you.

"Christian, there's no going back after what you just did to me with your tongue, so yeah, I'm sure," you giggle.

"You can have that whenever you want it," he grins at you.

"Take these fucking things off," you grin back at him as you tug at his boxers.

He chuckles as he slides them down his legs, kicking them off of the end of the bed. When he settles back between your legs you reach to wrap your hand around him and he groans at the sensation of your touch on his painfully hard cock.

You use your thumb to spread his precum over his tip before pumping your hand a few times, his dick thick and heavy in your hand. He drops his head against your shoulder and breathes raggedly before you line him up with your entrance.

You hook one leg over his hip and thread your fingers into the back of his hair, as he barely pushes his tip into you. "Please baby," you whisper against the side of his face.

He nods and intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing them into the mattress beside your head. He grips your hip with the other hand as he slowly pushes into you inch by inch.

"Shit," he whimpers in your ear once he's fully settled inside of you.

"Chris," you roll your hips against his.

"Oh fuck, god, don't do that, I'm fighting for my life up here," he groans.

You let out a quiet laugh before you tilt his head up and press your lips to his, "it's not funny," he mumbles against your lips, "you have no idea how good you feel."

"Mmm, no, but I know how good you feel," you clench around him as he slowly starts to move.

He kisses you again, both of you moaning into one another's mouths.

"I wasn't kidding about not lasting long," he breathes out as he picks up the pace a bit.

"Ok," you whisper against his lips before kissing him feverishly.

"Do you want me to pull out," he grinds out through clenched teeth.

"I'm on the pill, do whatever you want," you breathe, lifting your leg up higher over his hip and deepening the angle he's pushing into you at.

"Fuck" he curses as you feel him twitch, his movements sloppy before he stills himself, buried fully into you.

"Jesus, y/n" he whimpers before collapsing onto you with his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he catches his breath.

"I'm sorry" he mumbles against you as you trace your fingers up and down his back.

"For?" you question him knitting your eyebrows together.

"Blowing it faster than a 15-year-old virgin," he chuckles as he wraps his arms around behind you, pulling out of you and rolling both of you onto your sides at one time.

You scoot closer to him and press a gentle kiss to his lips. "As long as the foreplay is good, I don't mind," you wink at him, "it's kind of flattering actually," you giggle.

"I'm a fucking professional athlete, I've got stamina, just apparently not with you," he shakes his head.

"Also, I'm a bit mad at myself for not making a move sooner, because damn," he trails off.

"I think the timing is perfect, honestly, I'm at a good place with my business where I can take a few breaks and not feel bad, and you're in a much better place now. We've been friends for long enough that no one will get suspicious when they see us together, so we can keep this to ourselves for as long as we'd like," you nuzzle into his chest for a few more minutes before hopping out of the bed to clean yourself up.

When you return to his bed, he's still naked so you slip in beside him without worrying about grabbing some pajamas.

"Can I ask you a favor?" he says quietly as he pulls you closer to him.

"Anything," you whisper.

"Save some of the places you really want to travel to for me?" he whispers before kissing you on the forehead.

"Of course," you smile up at him, "we can look at my plans for the rest of the year tomorrow and decide which ones we want to do together."

"I'd like that," he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again.

"I was worried it might be weird," you confess to him out of the blue.

"Worried what would be weird?" he knits his eyebrows together in confusion.

"This, sleeping together," you motion between the two of you, "we've been friends for so long and I was afraid that taking things to this level might be awkward. I'm glad it's not. It feels right, this feels right."

"I'll never get enough," he whispers into your ear sending a shiver up your spine as he rolls on top of you and you feel his semi-hard cock rub against your leg.

"Me either," you giggle as you lift your leg over his hip.

Tag List:

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes @landoslover

#christian pulisic #Christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fic #Christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut

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heartfullofleeches · 3 months

Text

Happy Birthday, C.C!

(And a happy belated Valentine's day. One holiday is a bit more important to me than the other. Gotta celebrate my favorite incubus's day or he may cut me. Reader is brief mentioned to be wearing lingerie, but there really isn't anything that suggestive in this fic- Enjoy!)

When asked what he wanted for his birthday, C.C gave the same answer nearly every year.

"Why would I want anything when I already have everything I need?.... A new pair of shoes would be nice, but I'm really not that picky about what I get."

A successful career, the funds to purchase whatever trivial possession he desired. If he hadn't found fame and fortune early on in his life on earth, C.C would have been more than happy to mooch off of the desperate, lonely humans who'd do give him just about anything for a crumble of his attention. A short while ago, the only presents that mattered were what he received from the select few in his family he deemed worth the title, but something that has changed recently - another person entering his life who he puts on the same pedestal as the blood he holds dear if not higher.

If there was one thing C.C didn't want for his birthday - it was waking up in an empty bed all by himself.

Reaching an arm over your side of the bed, the drowsy demon is rudely dragged from his sleep as he finds no one there next to him. It's funny to think that a year prior he would have had no problem with this. Now, his heart sinks every time there's no one at his side. You're cruel for making him so dependent on you like this - and not being beside him on his big day.

C.C grumbles something under his breath - stumbling out of bed, making a grab for his phone on the nightstand as he exits the room. The second he turns it on, he's bombarded with hundreds of birthday wishes from friends and fans across several social media accounts. C.C swipes them all away, only bother to read any of the notifications in case he misses a message from you saying you're out. Why you'd leave without him is beyond him, but it was the best his groggy mind could come up with. Turning the corner that leads to the living room, a sea of curses sound from the kitchen muffled by running water.

"Shit, shit, shit- Fuck, why won't it come off?!"

C.C would recognize that voice anywhere. He scurries into the kitchen - biting back a laugh at your unfortunate state of appearance. There you stood over the sink, frantically scrubbing at your palms with a sponge. It was all over your hands, the robe you wore, even your face - pink stains that stubbornly refused to come out no matter how hard you tried. On the counter behind you was a bowl filled with a pinkish mixture - a bottle of red food dye still mixing its top and covered in red fingerprints seating beside it. C.C creeps over while you're distracted and sticks his fingers in the batter.

It's pancake mix.

"Mmm... I think all that dye is supposed to be in the bowl, babe."

Startled by the voice behind you, the sponge hits the bottom of the sink with a wet splat as you look behind you - hands quick at fixing your robes over scantily dressed body. "C.C? You're awake?! You're usually not up til noon - I thought I had more time.... Happy Birthday!"

The more attempt to hide it, the more C.C notices parts of your skimpy attire beneath the robe he had got you on your own special day. C.C loved to see you in his favorite color, but the bright pink fabric lessened the nearly see through aspect of your underwear and top in this lighting. The stockings you wore made up for it well enough - another accessories he loved to see on you that he made sure to voice many times before.

C.C gathers some of the paper towels on the counter. "Well I see you were at least trying to make breakfast - or get readying for Halloween a few months in advance. Sexy vampire is always a nice look."

"The seal just wouldn't come off and when it finally did it spilled all over me... I'm sorry for messing breakfast."

"Hush." C.C pulls you in close, wetness bleeding through his shirt as he embraces you, but he doesn't seem to mind. "We still have everything we need. I'll help you finish up and then we can take a shower together and spend the day in bed. You didn't put that outfit on just for show, did you?~"

"No, it was actually meant to be your Valentine's gift but.... I still haven't gotten your birthday present yet. I was going to take you to the mall and let you decide since there's so many things you like..."

C.C holds you tighter - grinning from ear to ear as he looks over your shoulder at all you've done for him. 'Don't worry.... I have everything I want right here."

#C.C my oc #yandere incubus #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere fluff

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jockbroski34 · 4 months

Text

New Blood (Chapter 2)

This is the second half of New Blood. If you haven't already, please read the first part here:

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

--Braden POV--

It’s been two weeks since Jacob changed into a jock. I almost didn’t recognize him at first. He seemed pretty chill when I saw him first, but now he acted like a spitting image of Zach and even started to look the part too. I even heard rumors that they started dating, which was a surprise to me because Zach always came off as straight to me.

It was just like what happened with Bradley. They would start hanging out more and more with Zach, and then the next time you see them, they become freakishly huge and start playing football. I’ve seen it happen twice, but I am certain it has happened before. It wasn’t the first time I saw someone in my class walk in looking like they took steroids overnight, but it was uncommon enough for it to not be a noticeable problem.

Even worse, I know he’s still at it. I’ve seen Zach and “Jake” talking to a guy I know in my class, Charlie. If I had to guess, he’s their next victim, but knowing him, I’m sure he’d be begging to join them. He’s openly gay and he’s always thirsted over the guys on the football team, even preferring my brother “Brad” over me. Zach probably has him wrapped around his finger at this point. Honestly, I felt bad for him for being that desperate. I knew it would be impossible to convince someone that down bad.

One thing became clear to me after the past several months. Zach was obviously getting closer to people in order to convince them to join the football team and become jocks like him. I’ve seen it happen multiple times, and at this point, he’s gone too far. I could try to tell the school about what he has been doing, but without definitive proof, I would just look crazy. The school obviously wouldn’t care anyways because they would benefit from a better football team to put their school’s name on the board.

As far as I know, no one in the school really seems to notice or care about people changing before their very eyes. They are completely oblivious. They don’t even care that they could be the one chosen to be targeted next. I’m basically all on my own here. This has to have been happening for almost a year at this point and I have to do something. I have to stop Zach and the rest of the team from turning these students into meathead jocks.

I began to investigate Zach and the rest of the football team. I went down the roster and made a list of every person who I definitely knew had been turned into a jock. There were a few more than I had expected to be honest. About thirty percent, I believe. These people had all gone through the drastic changes involved with joining the team, including the increased body growth.

There was one person who I specifically wanted to find information on, Zach. I decided to browse his Instagram to find even a hint of any tangible evidence that I could use against him. He had a lot of photos, with most of the recent ones being him showing off his body or partying. I wouldn’t expect much else from a douchebag like him. Although my investigation did not bear much fruit, I did find something interesting. As I scrolled through his old photos, I saw a boy both similar, yet entirely different to the cocky, muscular quarterback I knew. Was he one of the ones that was changed too?

The photo, about two years ago, showed an entirely different Zach. He was certainly still tall for his age, and definitely still taller than I am now. He was more on the skinnier side, however, and his face had softer, more boyish features compared to his more chiseled self. He had a longer hairstyle which contrasted with the short style he was rocking now. He still had the same verdant green eyes, although they had a more innocent look compared to the confidence his current self was full of. If you had shown me this picture without any of the information I know, I would’ve thought this was his cute little brother.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder. How did he do it? Him being one of the earlier guys to transform combined with him being the quarterback and the team captain led me to believe that he had to be one of the first, perhaps being the prototype.

I saw another photo of the old Zach from three years ago. It was him with two older men at a football game, each one of them adorning a jersey to match with the others in the crowded stadium. The man next to Zach bore enough similarities with him that I assumed that he was his father, but the other man’s identity was still a mystery. The face looked familiar however, but I figured it was just a coincidence. Maybe he was an uncle or an old family friend? Either way, I came to the conclusion that Zach was likely always into football even at a young age. I wouldn’t find it surprising that he would want to play football, but anyone with eyes could see that it would be impossible to achieve that kind of body in just two years even with nonstop training and a strict diet. I considered the possibility that steroids could have been involved, but how would he be able to even get his hands on them, let alone supply them to that many people?

I then tried to broaden my perspective a bit, and an interesting theory entered my mind. The football coach would obviously know of the changes, right? He couldn’t just turn a blind eye after some guys just randomly became jocks and wanted to join the team, right? In fact, he would have much to gain by turning his players into the ideal version of a high school football player. Stronger players mean more wins. More wins mean more success for the team and for the school. No wonder why the school doesn’t care. They are directly benefiting from this!

So I decided that I would dig deeper on the coach. Unsurprisingly, he was a former football player and coach, but decided to move to this town about three to four years ago. At the college he went to, he majored in psychology. I found the pair between football and psychology to be a strange fit, with very little overlap. But then I started to think. He obviously knows a lot about the human mind. Maybe that’s why the guys on the team like Bradley and Jacob came out acting like entirely different people. He had to have done something to them subconsciously, perhaps some form of hypnosis or brainwashing. Bradley would often mention things that obviously never happened, so I am sure his memories were tampered with. I would know. I’ve known him my entire life and he never cared about sports before now. Just as I had figured out a hypothesis on how they might have changed mentally, I still didn’t know how their bodies might have changed. I defaulted to my original idea, steroids, but I didn’t know how a high school coach would get steroids for his players. Surely he’s smart enough to want to avoid that scandal.

I remembered the coach’s face. I’ve definitely seen it before at least once at school, but it was also the other man in the photo with Zach! So it seems that the coach knew Zach before he became a jock. I’m guessing he and his father were close? If I’m on the right track, Zach could have been his guinea pig for his experiments, since he would have to be one of the first guys to undergo the jock transformation.

I wrote all of the important evidence I had into a document, but then I heard the front door open. Shit, Brad, no, Bradley came home early from football practice! I quickly saved the document onto my flash drive, and hid it in my pocket. We shared the same computer, so I couldn’t risk him finding it, even though he would probably just look up sports statistics or porn instead. Bradley was seemingly unaware by the time he entered our shared room.

“Hey bro,” Bradley said. “Doing homework already? You’re a much harder worker than me, bro.” The old Bradley would never say bro. And he was arguably a better student than me.

“Yeah,” I responded, sarcastically. I was honestly getting tired of him after all that has been going on. “Not that you would know anything about studying, you dumb brute.” I grabbed my things and left for the living room, not wanting to be anywhere near my changed brother, nor near his sweaty, unwashed clothes that he left on the floor.

“What’s wrong bro?” Bradley followed me, his large feet stomping on the floor with every step. “You not feeling alright? I’m going on a run in a little bit if you want to come with. It’ll help clear your head.” I was fuming at his ignorance. It was at this moment that I burst.

“You are what’s wrong ‘bro’! Ever since you started hanging out with Zach and joined the football team, you’ve been completely unrecognizable! You’re just another jock now!”

“So what? I like being on the team and I like hanging out with the guys.”

“Is that really you in there or is that Zach or Coach doing the talking for you? You were never like this before you met them. I know that they changed you!” I realized I may have said too much.

“I guess they did rub off on me a little, but I did this for me, bro,” I rolled my eyes at the idea that anyone would willingly agree to be transformed into a jock. “I know you and I have grown apart these past couple months, but I just want us to get along again like we used to, bro. No matter what.” He reached out for a hug, but I pushed him away. The man in front of me was not my brother. Besides, he’d probably break a bone or two.

“You are not my ‘bro’! If you want us to be brothers again, you can start by quitting the team. You’re never gonna get anywhere in life by throwing footballs and getting concussions.”

“You’ll never understand, little bro.” Bradley seemed disappointed, and left through the front door, likely going on another one of his runs. I felt a wave of anger and shame rush over me, not just at my foolish brother, but at myself for being unable to connect with him. The rest of the night went by as usual, only we were even more cold towards each other than we were earlier. Dinner was incredibly awkward, with our tension hanging over the dinner table. We avoided eye contact and didn’t even say a word to each other the whole night. As I tried to fall asleep, I knew that we couldn’t keep living like this. Something needed to change.

--Jake POV--

I woke up to the sound of an alarm in Zach’s warm embrace, his toned arms barely wrapped around my new, larger body. His thick legs tangled in between mine like a knot and his 9-inch serpent in his jockstrap pressed against my back. I had slept the night at his place again, but it was pretty common these days now that we were officially a couple. We saw each other almost every day, whether it was at school, practice, the gym, or watching football together on Sunday. The other bros grew a little jealous of us, but it’s a little hard not to be.

I thought about what happened the other day. Memories of the lessons prior were drowned out by the practice, and by me and Zach recruiting the newbie to the team. You see, Zach was not only the team captain and our star quarterback. He was also responsible for recruiting new members to the team and getting people interested in football, and he asked me to help him out, which I obviously agreed to.

Obviously I now know how the recruitment process actually works, seeing as he had done it to me weeks ago, but it is different watching it compared to seeing it happen to yourself. Unlike me, the new recruit took less time and was very eager to join the team. Charlie was a nerdy kid, and gay too, but he had a slight interest in football, but mainly for the hot guys who played it. I empathized with him, seeing as I was lusting over Zach just weeks ago. Naturally, me and Zach helped him realize that he could be one of those hot football jocks who he jerked off to, while also allowing him to appreciate the art of the game on more than a surface level. I watched Charlie transform and he was already in love with his new body and jock persona. He’s now one of the guys he’s thirsted for, and maybe if he’s lucky, he can get to suck off one of the bros. I don’t think any of them are gay, though, but if little bro tries to make a move on Zach though, I’ll beat the shit out of him. Maybe I’ll try to hook him up with another new gay recruit.

I heard a buzzing sound from the nightstand in front of me. I grabbed my phone, which lit up in the dark room. My new lock screen was a picture of me and Zach, our arms over each other’s shoulders, in our football uniforms after a hard-fought victory. Brad had messaged the group chat and it seemed like he had something important to share.

“hey bros my little bro braden is mad at me for joining the team and i think he knos about wat teh team is doin hes obv mizrabl and i want us to get along agan think zach and coach can turn him into a jock liek me?”

I remembered Braden and how antagonistic he acted towards me and the other members of the team. I still haven’t forgiven him for being so judgmental towards us. We just wanted to play football and be bros together. What was wrong with that? Judging from what Brad said, it is clear that he’s already gathering evidence on us just like he had said, as he knows about not just Zach, but Coach too. If the secrets of our program leaks, it could be very bad news. Because he was an enemy to the team, he was an enemy to me. However, I felt like I could forgive him if he joined us. Plus, I wanted him to see firsthand why we loved this lifestyle so much. I responded in the group chat.

“yea we shud do it b4 he trys telling any1 he knows about zach alredy and he knows i changed and tryd to warn me lets talk after practice”

Zach started to rise from his slumber, realizing that he had slept past his alarm and he gave me a kiss on the lips. I informed him of the situation with Braden and he agreed that this was probably the best option. I didn’t care if he would try to resist us, but he needed to know that we were not to be fucked with. Zach went downstairs to make breakfast for the two of us while I got ready for school.

I changed into one of Zach’s T-shirts that he let me wear and a pair of basketball shorts, and then I put on my hat, adorned with the team’s logo, and twisted the brim backward. Damn, I looked good. I got turned on by the man staring back at me in the mirror, with his toned body and cocky smirk that showed everyone that he was on top of the world. I could tell that my transformation was corrupting me, but in the best way possible. I loved it. This was everything I ever wanted.

On my plate were eggs, bacon, and peanut butter toast. Zach didn’t take his studies too seriously but at least he knew how to cook a good, protein-rich meal. It was a feast fit for muscular kings like ourselves. I chugged the protein shake that he made for me, rich with a chocolate flavor, before we got into my car and drove to school.

We arrived at school, sat through a bunch of boring lectures, and as soon as that was over, we went straight to practice. Earlier in the day, I bumped into Braden to show him who he was up against. He just glared back at me. It was an odd feeling knowing the power I had over others, but the idea of being stronger and better than everyone made me hard. While we waited for Coach to arrive, we discussed what to do about Braden. Charlie said that he had final period with him and that he looked at him funny. I found the coincidence that Charlie shared a class with him to be quite hilarious, and I imagined the irony of the situation to drive him insane. Brad said that his mom was going out of town for the week to visit family and his dad worked late hours, so he would have no one to pick him up.

With that information, I devised a plan. Since Brad would probably have to pick up Braden from school, we could use this opportunity in our favor and get him alone with us. Since we have practice tomorrow, he will have to stay until after we are finished, so as long as we can keep track of him, we should be able to take him to the locker room in order to be transformed. With the plan ready to go, we started practice. After that, me and Zach went to the gym and my biceps were swollen after a hard workout. I definitely reached a new high today, and I felt great. Zach decided to spend the night at my place as we tried to iron out any potential flaws in our plan. Zach seemed proud that I was taking an active role in the team.

“Hey bro, you’re doing a great job helping me to keep this team going. Whether it’s winning games, or helping out during practice, or giving new recruits the sweet taste of what it’s like to be a jock, you’re really awesome. When I first met you, I never imagined you would make this great of a jock.”

I blushed. No one had ever praised me that much. “What can I say bro? I learned from the best,” I responded as I kissed him. He wrapped his arms and body around me and spooned me like the night before. As I drifted to sleep, I reflected on Zach and the other guys on the team. They brought out the best in me. I fought for my life for them on the field just as they did for me. Off the field, they were like the brothers I never had. But Zach was the only person I felt truly understood me on a personal level. He made me who I am and he showed me how to make other guys as great as we are. And I eagerly awaited tomorrow when we would have yet another new recruit.

--Braden POV--

Looks like the jocks are at it again. Charlie was officially turned into yet another musclehead jock. We were kinda close, since we talked a bit during class, and I genuinely did get along with him despite his preference for jocks. To be honest, I thought he was kinda cute, but all he would talk about is how hot the football guys were which was a turn-off to me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he gave in to them. I’m sure he’ll have a great time taking dick in the locker room like he always dreamed of.

It was at this point that I finally developed a plan to put an end to the football team’s schemes. I learned the other day that my mom was going to visit family for the week, so I would be alone with “Brad” until my dad got home. Normally this would be a nightmare for me, since I’d have to stay at school until after his practice since he would be responsible for driving me home. I decided that while he and the other jocks were at practice, I would sneak into the locker room in order to find any evidence that these guys were turning into jocks. The more the better, but even just one piece of evidence would surely be enough to raise some suspicion against them. If I find any incriminating evidence, I’ll report it straight to the school and the police. It’s all up to me at this point.

After class, I went to the library to get some peace and quiet and to get a headstart on some homework before commencing with my operation. I found it hard to concentrate because I was so on edge. I figured I wouldn’t have any problems since practice was still over an hour long, but the anticipation was killing me. I was also distracted by heavy stomping outside. It was after school! Couldn’t they keep it down at least a little? And then, even though I should’ve been alone, I heard someone else enter the library.

It was Charlie! What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be at practice? He was still wearing his uniform too. I had to admit, his new look did suit him. I found myself staring at his nice round bubble butt. It was always on the larger side, but it had to look even bigger now. His football pants helped to emphasize his best features. What am I even saying? Even if he was objectively more handsome, any attraction I would have for him would vanish as soon as he opened his dumb mouth.

“Hey, Brady! I didn’t know you were still here,” Charlie greeted me with a stupid grin on his face. I hated that he was trying so hard to be friendly with me.

“Yeah, Bradley has to pick me up today,” I responded. Surely just putting up with him would get him off my back for a while. The last thing I wanted was for him to interfere with my plans. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at practice.”

“I forgot my book in class, so I went to go get it really quick. But then, I saw you. Brad did say that he would be picking you up today.” What an odd excuse. I couldn’t imagine the coach letting him leave practice early for a stupid reason like that.

“Couldn’t you just go after practice? Like don’t you have better things to do?”

“I told Coach I’d be quick. Plus, I wanted to see you!” He wrapped his meaty arm around my scrawny shoulder. I could smell a strong waft from his armpit, from the sweat of a hard workout. I would’ve pushed him off me, but there was little point fighting back against a man as strong as he is. It was a friendly gesture anyways.

“I’m kinda sad that we don’t talk much, bro. I know I spend a lot of time on the football team, but I would’ve liked to get to know you better. I think you should join the team so we can hang out more.”

“I’m not…” my annoyant tone was paused as Charlie pushed his face into mine. He was kissing me? I had to admit, he was a good kisser, both strong and passionate. I wasn’t sure if he was naturally like this or if his jock side made him a better kisser. As our lips parted, I felt my face turn beet red. I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, confused, furious, annoyed…No. I couldn’t find any one word to describe how I felt. I knew I wasn’t supposed to kiss him, but it did genuinely feel nice even if I couldn’t stand Charlie the jock. I had to get it together. He was obviously trying to mess with me, but my answer stayed the same. “I’m not joining the team.”

“Yes you are,” a voice said as a set of hands grabbed me from behind. Before I could call out for help, one of the firm hands covered my mouth, deafening my cries for help. Fuck, it was Jake! He must’ve snuck in while I was distracted and disoriented. He effortlessly picked me up and shoved me into a black gym bag. I was trapped. I couldn’t see a thing and no one could hear me either. It was a tight fit and I couldn’t fight back against the scent of old, sweaty gym clothes.

“Good work, little bro,” Jake said as he high-fived Charlie. “Now let’s take him to the locker room.” Shit, they were already one step ahead of me. I had to admit, these meathead jocks were smarter than I thought. I remembered Charlie’s words and I realized what they were going to do to me. They were planning to turn me into a jock! This cannot be happening. As I tried to think of a plan to get out of this situation, my mind became clouded by the intoxicating scent inside the bag. I hated the smell of sweat and musk, but for some reason, I started to feel a little hard. For some reason, I picked up one of the articles of clothing, a sweaty unwashed jockstrap, and out of curiosity, I found myself sniffing it. I became distracted by the pungent smell momentarily as I was carried to my destination.

When I finally saw light again, I was surrounded by a horde of members of the football team in the locker room. They all stood in a circle and they looked like predators, and I was their prey. I contemplated the idea of running, but I knew it was physically impossible to outrun even one of them with their superior athletic abilities. I thought about begging for mercy, but I knew they could not be reasoned with and because of my pride, I didn’t want me to come across as weak. Brad walked over to me, carrying an entire football uniform that seemed way too big for me.

“Put them on, bro,” he ordered. I obliged, seeing as I no longer had any say in the matter. I felt a sense of embarrassment because the clothes were way too big on me. It felt like I was a kid trying to wear his dad’s clothes.

“You’ll grow into it, trust me,” Jake said, his hand on Zach's shoulder, a proud smirk plastered on his face. My worst fears were realized. I didn’t know how but they were going to turn me into one of them, yet another jock.

“You’re probably wondering why we brought you here, little bro. Well, we know you’ve been trying to get in our way. You’re the only student in this school who knows or even cares what we do. You’re the minority, bro,” Brad explained. He reached into my backpack which he was holding and pulled out the flash drive that stored all my evidence. “I noticed that you were trying to hide this the other day when I came in. You might just think I’m a ‘dumb brute’ but even I couldn’t miss something that obvious. I wonder why you had to hide it, bro…” he teased as he inserted it into a laptop on one of the benches. It didn’t take long for him to find the document I used to share my findings.

“Well, well…” Zach teased. “Looks like someone did their research. I’m kinda impressed at how much you use your brain, bro. Too bad you won’t be needing it for much anymore.” He then proceeded to delete the file as my hard work was erased from the flash drive. I felt mortified as my hard work was all for nothing and I realized what was going to become my fate. I then heard footsteps coming in from outside.

“I believe this is our first time meeting,” a commanding voice stated. From the way he spoke, I felt any amount of defiance I still had in me turn into submissiveness, like a father catching his son sneaking out at night. “It seems you already know who I am, but I’m Coach Myers. I’m sure you’re full of questions, and don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to answer every last one of them.”

I was looking at the man in charge, the mastermind behind all of the jocks who were transformed. I had so much I wanted to ask him, both out of curiosity and anger, that I didn’t know where to start.

“What caused you to turn these students into jocks?” I asked.

“Good question. I was always interested in bringing out the best in one’s self, but I never knew where to start until recently. Me and Zach’s father were close friends in the NFL. As a result, Zach always looked up to me, but even though he wanted to be a football player like his father, he wasn’t able to cut it.”

I looked at Zach, who normally seemed very confident and arrogant, but for the first time since I’ve seen him, for just a split second, he felt humbled, reminded of his shortcomings. For once, I kinda felt bad for the guy even though I thought he was a total douche. Despite the sob story, I still realized that what he had done was too far.

“He approached me in tears one day. He wished he was stronger, wished he was more like the guys he looked up to at school. And that’s when I realized that maybe I could help him. And so we spent almost a year studying ways to transform his body and even his mind into the perfect football player. And eventually, we succeeded. Zach was exactly the person he dreamed of being.”

I now knew why and how it began. Zach was the first, the alpha. But why did he keep doing it? “You helped to make Zach who he is now, but why did you continue to do it to other students?” I asked.

“I’m glad you asked. Although changing Zach was my finest achievement, I realized that there were many kids his age who were just like him. Some felt inadequate, incomplete, inferior, and some just lacked any purpose in general. So I gave these boys that purpose, and I made them into the strong men that they always dreamed of being. And not just in this school. High schools and colleges all across America are doing the exact same thing we are doing, all thanks to my innovations.”

I was shocked by this revelation. This jock problem was happening at an even larger scale than I could’ve possibly imagined. Surely there had to have been hundreds of guys turned into jocks just like here at this school, perhaps even some of the ones that tried to oppose them like me. I realized how hopeless I felt.

“I know my research is unethical but I believe that what I am doing is right. But back to you, do you not feel at least a little envious of your brother?”

I looked over at Brad…why was I calling him Brad? I have to admit, I was always a little jealous of him. He always seemed to be the favorite child, and now that he’s been jocked and has joined the football team, he’s infinitely more popular than me. If I were just like him, then maybe…No. That’s what he wants me to think. But at the same time, I could imagine myself becoming as strong as him, becoming as popular as him.

And then I realized the futility of this decision. They were going to turn me into a jock anyways. But for some reason, I had warmed up to the idea, in a way that would’ve sickened me just an hour earlier. Maybe I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe I did feel envious of Brad this whole time just like how Coach Myers described.

“Coach can make you just like he made me. We’ll finally get along again, and we can bond better than we ever could before. What do you say bro?” Brad asked.

I looked at my brother, then around to the other jocks around me, then finally to Coach. If I said yes, then I would have a brother again. I’ll be more attractive and more popular and maybe I’ll even be happier this way. Maybe Charlie will want to go out with me. But that would mean erasing who I am to become yet another jock. That I would lose and all of this would be for nothing. Who am I kidding? I already lost. I was doomed to become a jock the moment I tried to intervene in their plans. But you know, maybe this isn’t so bad. I tried to imagine my jock life with a newfound sense of optimism.

“You’ll have to consent to joining the team before we can move forward,” Coach informed me.

“Enough with your monologue, I’ll do it,” I answered, with a sense of humiliation as I surrendered. However, there was a slight smirk on my face, either from embarrassment or from how absurd my situation really was.

“That took less time than I expected,” Coach responded. “The rest of you, resume practice drills. Braden, come with me.” I obliged, anticipating what the Coach had in store for me. I signed a form, put on some earbuds, and put the helmet on.

As the hypnotic video in front of me played, I slowly became entranced by the spiral that was sucking me into my new life as I felt parts of my mind become erased, including any part of me that still tried to resist this. “I wanted this,” I thought to myself as new thoughts and memories started to fill the gaps in my mind. It was like a computer deleting old files that weren’t important in order to make room for stuff that mattered way more. I always looked up to my brother Brad, as he was a year older than me. He was incredibly talented at football, so naturally, I followed in his footsteps. Being younger, I was less experienced than him, but he was a good role model and I aspired to match him as a player. He was like the touchdown in the endzone and I was at the 50 yard line to put it in better terms.

My body changed entirely. Every muscle in my body expanded, like I was being pumped full of air. My football uniform that was way too big at first, soon fit me like a glove. It was a little painful at first, but I soon felt a wave of euphoria rush over me as I became obsessed with my body, especially my new dick, which more than doubled in size to a massive 10 inches. I started to resemble the new Brad, with the same short buzzcut. Before we didn’t look much alike. Brad was always more on the chubby side and I was on the skinnier side. But now, we could almost pass as twins. You could still tell which one of us was the little brother though.

This is who I am. This is who I always was. I am a football jock. I started to love the idea of playing sports and working out, along with other things. Except I always did? Part of me remembered thinking the jocks were stupid, arrogant, and annoying brutes, but that’s wrong because all my friends are jocks and they are really cool, bro. Bro. Bro, bro, bro…I’m starting to like that word, dude. Eventually I woke up, without any knowledge of what had taken place today, reveling in my new changes.

“I take it you won’t be a problem anymore, kid?” Coach inquired.

“No Coach! I’m sorry for causing you trouble dude,” I answered. Part of me felt off, and I felt confused for a second. I wondered what got me in trouble, but I shrugged it off because I don’t think about that kind of stuff.

“I did keep some of your smarts, unlike the others, but you definitely won’t come off that way. Your grades were better than the rest and I figured it’d be a waste if they were to completely go away. How would you like to help me expand upon my research?”

“That’d be awesome, sir!” I answered. My new self couldn’t comprehend the irony that I would be directly helping Coach with the very schemes I was trying so hard to stop in the first place. But why would I ever want to put an end to the very thing that made me who I am now? I didn’t look or act the part, but I’m kinda smart I guess. I’m not a fucking nerd or a know-it-all though. Not that I really want to use my brain more than I have to except for counting calories and football plays. I was interested in turning more men into awesome jocks like me though. “Can I go back to practice?”

“Yeah, go meet up with the other boys. I’ll be out in a sec.”

I joined my fellow bros and we resumed practice. Playing football just felt natural to me. We held a party after the game on Friday to celebrate our win. We were on a huge winning streak. We hadn’t even lost once this season! At the party, Charlie asked me out, impressed with my masculine new look. Turns out he did like me back after all. He kissed me in the library after all, although I don’t remember why we were there in the first place. He was always kinda hot, so I said yes, and we quickly realized how much chemistry we had beyond being bros. We were soon the second couple on the team, the other being Jake and Zach, who were a year above us, who were just as cool. Nothing wrong with some bro on bro action after all.

Me and Brad had a bit of a fight a while ago, but we’re cool now. I’m even closer with my big bro than I had ever been before, especially now that we’re on the team together. I loved life with my bros and I knew my bros loved their lives too. After practice, I would stay after with Coach and Zach and we would look into ways to create more and even better jocks. I haven’t been filled in on the finer details yet, but I know that they have big plans not only for this school, but for other schools as well. I found this purpose along with playing football to be much more compelling to me than anything else. If there was a part of me that was upset about this life, it definitely wasn’t there anymore because I loved being a jock.

--Zach POV--

I spent the night at Jake’s place again. Today was a long day though. Between practice and all the stuff with Braden, I was exhausted. It did feel like everything was resolved though, and I felt satisfied knowing that our secrets were safe now. I laid in Jake’s bed and I talked with him.

“Another jock well done bro,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around and kissed my boyfriend.

“We were awesome today,” Jake responded. “I can tell that Braden is already loving his new jock body. Glad he could finally see the light, bro.”

“Can’t blame him. I have no regrets about anything though, even Braden. How about you bro?”

“Me neither. I love being a jock and I love making my bros into jocks too. I’m with you every step of the way, bro.”

“That’s my bro!” I rustled Jake’s hair before leaning in for a kiss. For the first time ever, I felt completely content with my life. I have Jake, Coach, and all my other bros to support me. I’m the captain and star quarterback of the football team and I carry us to victory every game. The jock life is perfect for me and for all my bros. If even Braden could see how awesome it was, I knew that anyone could if given the chance. I got hard as I imagined what it would be like if every guy at school was as strong and handsome as me. If everyone was a jock. With Jake on my side and everyone else, I knew we could take on anything, anyone. Maybe even the world. “We still have lots of work to do.”

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This is the end of this series for now, so thank you for reading it. I'm open to expanding upon it even more in the future if the demand is high enough and if I have ideas on where to take it. I also have a lot of other shorter transformation story ideas that I want to write eventually, so stay tuned.

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tumbleweed-run · 6 months

Text

Living

Kinktober Day 28 Body Worship TW negative self image/self esteem issues

You stare into the mirror and sigh at the reflection looking back. She’s you, that’s for sure, but she isn’t the you you were several months ago. There a many yous scattered throughout your past but this change seems to bother you more for whatever reason. Possibly because this is the first time you’ve noticed the transition. There was a you before the nautaloid as well but she disappeared so quickly, the moment that the tadpole crawled into your eye.

This new you has a very attentive boyfriend who cooks the most delicious homecooked meals. She likes laying in bed late into the morning reading books just because she can. She spends many evenings in restaurants being served food made by the best cooks in Waterdeep. She isn’t fighting for her life anymore and because of that her, your, body has changed.

That you that existed in tandem with the tadpole died with the elder brain. She was a fierce warrior, pushing her body and mind far past their limits in every way. Places that had been hard bone and sharp angles were now covered in soft flesh. Your stomach curves softly out instead of sinking in further with each meal divided into six (then seven, then nine, and so on) portions to provide for everyone in camp.

Gale hasn't breathed a word about this new body. He wouldn’t be so crass as to comment on your body like that, and yet you still worry. The you he fell in love with was that warrior, not this new person. You’re very different both physically and mentally from the person he asked to marry him.

“You look unhappy,” Gale says behind you, startling you. He sounds bothered.

You shrug and turn away from the mirror, searching the room with your eyes for your robe. Gale gets to it first and holds it up, making it easier for you to slide into it. It’s easier not to think of these things while covered up.

“I’m just thinking,” you answer finally.

“About?” Gale prompts, his eyebrows are creased in concern. You consider pulling him down to press a kiss there, to smooth them, but refrain. Instead you make your way to the door.

“How different everything is,” it’s another careful answer, neither truthful nor untruthful.

Gale follows you from the bathroom and into the hall, keeping a distance between the two of you.

“That makes you unhappy?” He sounds more concerned, and you can’t help but realize maybe there are changes to this new, not-tadpole, not-Mystra, Gale that keep him up at night, too.

You sigh, heading towards the bedroom. You want to curl up in the soft sheets and duvet and forget all of this. “I’m happy with our life,” you reassure him as you push open the door.

Gale follows you into the room but moves to sit on the bed as you wander over to the dresser to find your night clothes. “Then what is it?” he asks. “This isn’t the first time I’ve found you frowning lately. If something is bothering you, I want to know. I can help.” He sounds so earnest in his belief that he can make everything better for you that you can’t help but smile.

“You can’t make this better,” you find yourself loathe to admit this, and you turn to look at him, “I just have to get used to it.”

Gale shifts on the bed, turning towards you. “No,” he insists, “you shouldn’t get used to things that bother you.”

“Gale, you can’t fix this,” you say finally, gesturing vaguely to your body, voice louder than you’d meant it to be. You wince afterward.

Gale rises to stand all of a sudden, face pulled together in confusion. “I need you to be more specific about what ‘this’ is,” he says.

“Me,” your voice is softer this time as you admit it.

“There’s nothing to fix about you,” he says even as you watch a slow comprehension crawl across his face.

“I’m different than I was when you met me. I’m different than I was before the nautiloid even,” you try and explain.

Gale snorts a laugh. “We all are. None of us who went through that are the same,” he says, taking a step towards you, reaching out as if to pull you to him. But then he stops abruptly. You watch the rest of your meaning dawns on him. You look down at your feet but not before you see an unpleasant look pass across his face.

“Unless you’re not speaking solely about our personalities,” his words are carefully measured.

You nod. Even though you can feel that he’s growing annoyed, you’ve always done your best not to lie to him. You won't start now.

Gale closes the distance between the two of you and takes your chin in his hand, pushing it up so you look at him. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, eyes darting away from his. “I don’t look the same,” you mumble.

Despite your mumbled words, Gale has clearly heard them. His fingers twitch against your jaw as if to resist gripping you tighter. “Of course not,” his voice still sounds very controlled.

You risk looking at him, and you find his face is nearly blank. His eyes aren’t, though. He seems angry. You pull away, but he catches the tie of your robe before you can get too far and holds you in place.

“Let me wallow in my self-loathing,” you say, still trying to step away, “I’ll be more cheerful in the morning.”

Another snort, this one sounds less amused. “You might be in the morning, but this isn’t the first time I've caught these looks on your face,” he insists. Gently, he moves his hand to tug the knot you’ve tied loose. He allows it to drop, and your robe falls open.

“I love this body,” Gale says as he gently pushes the fabric from your shoulders. Your robe pools to the floor, leaving you standing naked once more.

He leans down to you and presses a kiss to your lips and lingers there until you return it. Gale then leans in and kisses you with intensity until you can barely breathe. “I love these lips,” he says when he finally pulls away. “And not just for how they look wrapped around my cock,” he grins wickedly, “but for every thoughtful word, for every time you tell me you love me.”

He trails his kisses off and down your neck. You gasp when you feel him pull the skin he finds there into his teeth. He sucks for a moment and you realize he’s deliberately leaving a mark. After a moment, he seems satisfied and allows his lips to trail to your shoulders.

“I love these because you readily accept the weight of the world onto them,” he kisses across your collarbone to your other shoulder, “time and time again.”

Gale takes hold of your hand and raises your arm, kissing a path towards your hand. He stops briefly in the bend of your elbow and teases his tongue against it forcing a choked laugh from you. You feel his lips curl, pleased with himself, before he continues. “I love watching you page through books or pen letters to our friends,” he says before gently pressing a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers.

“Not just when I wrap them around your cock?” You tease, voice rough for some reason.

Gale grins and nips at the pad of your thumb before returning his lips to your collarbone. “I won’t lie. I’m very fond of watching when they do that.”

He begins kissing lower. Slowly, Gale trails his kisses back and forth across the skin of your chest. You realize you’re holding your breath by the time he finally gets to your breasts. Somehow, he manages to cover every inch of your breasts before pressing a kiss to each of your nipples. “I love these,” he grins up at you, “for all the dirty reasons you’re thinking.”

He pulls the nipple in front of him into his mouth, and you gasp, back arching to him. Gale takes his time lavishing your nipples until you’re moaning, hand holding onto his shoulders for stability. He once again presses a quick kiss to both of your nipples before beginning to kiss downward.

He drops to his knees in order to more easily reach your skin. As he trails his lips across the skin of your stomach, you try not to squirm. Just as with your breasts, Gale works to ensure that his lips have kissed every piece of skin. “I love that you go to bed full every night, that I no longer fall asleep listening to the sound of your hunger pangs.”

Gale sounds particularly upset now.

“Gale,” you say for lack of something else. You smooth your hands through his hair.

“I tried hard to keep all of you fed,” Gale admits, still sounding sad, “but there wasn’t enough to fill all of you, and you were always offering to feed Astarion when the game was scarce. I tried to make sure you had what you needed to keep well.”

Your eyes water as you remember all of those bits of food Gale snuck into your hand while adventuring. You’d originally dismissed it as just part of his generosity and then assumed it was a flirtation thing. You also remembered Gale standing over the food stockpiles each night, mumbling things to himself. You realize now he’d been worrying about how to make each meal.

“You did better than any of us could have,” you assure him, still stroking his hair.

Gale gives a little shrug but resumes his kisses. He presses a kiss very deliberately very low on your stomach, below the curve and where you can’t see.

“And I love this because one day you’ll grow our children in this space,” he says it reverently.

A smile tugs at your lips, “children?” you tease.

“As many as you want,” Gale says, looking up at you with an earnest expression of adoration.

His lips begin working lower until he presses a rather chaste kiss against the seam of your cunt. “I love this,” is all he says there.

You can’t help but laugh.

You feel Gale’s grin once again against your skin. He abandons the space he’d been, and you pout even though he won't see it. He begins a path down one of your legs, and you shift your weight, squirming. You look down and watch him get lower, sliding his body back so he can reach each spot more easily.

By the time his lips get to the top of your feet, he’s bent over, prostrate on the ground before you. Your breath catches at the image as he worships you.

“I love every inch of you,” He says loud enough you can hear even though he’s nearly speaking to the ground.

You’d like to say you sunk to your knees gracefully, but the sound of your knees hitting the ground tells a different story. You at least manage to keep yourself from landing on Gale. Grasping at his shoulders, you tug him up, immediately diving for his lips. Gale returns your kisses, shifting until he can grasp the sides of your face.

You both remain like that on the floor for several minutes until suddenly, it’s not close enough. You grab at his clothes, tugging until he gets the idea. The two of you are uncoordinated as you strip him. Several moments cause you both to laugh- leaning against one another for support.

Once Gale is naked, you crawl into his lap, grasping for his cock blindly. He gasps once you wrap your hand around it. He’s hard. You stroke him, thumb smearing against the bead of cum welling at the tip. You work it as it forms down along his shaft, providing lube for you to move with.

He’s panting, watching as your hand works him. “I do love this,” he gasps at a point, drawing out your smile once more.

You grow impatient and pull your hand away, quickly moving your body up over it. You rock against it for a moment, eyes slipping closed as the motion grinds his shaft against your clit. Gale’s hands grasp your hips and lift you up enough to shift so his cock is now pressed against your entrance. He gently guides you down it until he’s buried deep inside of you.

You both freeze. The only sound in the room is that of your breathing.

“You are perfect,” Gale insists as he thrusts up into you.

You try to lean further into him. You wish to bury your head in his shoulder and hide your face. Gale won’t let you, instead, he keeps you far enough away that he can watch your face. When you finally gather up enough courage to look into his eyes, they’re so filled with love and adoration that you look away almost immediately.

“You’re perfect and I love you,” Gale repeats around his moans.

You finally look up again and keep your eyes locked this time, hoping you can pour even a fraction of your own devotion to him into the look. Gale’s thrusts become erratic, hip rolling with each thrust.

You reach down and press your fingers against your clit, rubbing as he fucks you. Gale’s eyes are drawn downward now, watching as you touch yourself. “Shit,” he gasps, nearly slamming up into you.

You allow your eyes to slip closed and focus on every sensation. The way his cock feels deep inside of you, the warmth of his body, the sound of your fingers against the slickness of your arousal. You allow your world to focus down to just this, just now, the joy that this new body gets to experience. The bliss that no you before had ever dreamt of. You come quietly, only a little noise pulled from your throat.

Gale takes that as his sign to pull you even tighter against him, barely pulling out of you with each thrust. He moves faster, hips jerking against yours. Then he freezes, eyes pinched shut, and every muscle of his body tight as he comes. He pants our your name as he keeps you flush against him, spilling deep inside of you.

You both remain like that until your joints begin to ache. “Ow,” you mumble as you slowly move your legs.

Gale groans as he, too, shifts. “Maybe we should have done that on the bed,” he chuckles.

“I don’t mind being uncomfortable sometimes,” you say, sliding from his lap.

You can’t help but glance down at your body as you stand. Your original feelings haven't changed, and its unlikely too overnight. But you realize maybe this you is so different from the last you. Not because she’s fighting for her life, but because she’s living it.

#Gale x Reader #Gale x Fem!Reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #kinktober 2023 #bodyworship

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eightstarr · 7 months

Note

omg hello my favorite writer!

now that we know how doctor abby x reader, we gotta know the lore with loser!ellie <333

hello my favorite girl! here is the origin story <3

ellie's in the middle of facetiming jesse (they call each other during their lunch breaks every single day, they're like each other's human version of a youtube video to eat with) when she sees you walk behind him, notice his phone and lean down to flash her a quick smile with the cutest wave she's ever seen and then promptly disappear. ellie flinches and straightens her back. her hand shoots up, holding the phone at what she thinks is a more flattering angle than the way she'd been holding it basically on her lap before. but you're gone before she could even wave back.

jesse raises his eyebrows at her pale face. "did you just realize you have to shit or something?"

"shut the fuck up," ellie hisses, her voice in a rushed whisper even though jesse is wearing headphones and you're clearly not around anymore. "who was that?"

"what? oh," jesse introduces you by name, says something about knowing you from high school. "she started working here like a month ago, so that's been fun."

ellie can't believe that he's known you for that long and hasn't mentioned you once before. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks him. and she'll keep asking him periodically for the next several months— which she spends stalking your instagram, squinting her eyes at the background behind jesse everytime he calls (in case you're there) and casually visiting him at work when she's feeling bold.

she has her first real conversation with you one summer when you're both at a party on some guy's backyard. you compliment her jorts and tell her she's funny and ellie thanks god that she's just drunk enough to be cognitive and herself but also not overwhelmingly aware of every single thing that's happening. she leaves with your number on her phone (oh my god) and your gloss sticky on her cheek (oh my god????)

i'm sorry to say that you don't actually kiss until at least a whole year later though!! ellie's convinced that you just wanna be friends and she loves being your friend so so much, she wouldn't change it for the world! but also she does think about kissing you every night but she won't even hint at it until she thinks that you might be interested.

and she's really so fucking good at hiding it! ellie can be sneaky and i think we should talk about it more. like you don't even know if she fucks tbh but she has to be fucking, right??? she's so hot?? there has to be someone and she's just not telling you about it. it's not until you know her really well that you realize she's more open with you than she is with most people in her life and if there was someone she would tell you and now that you think about it why does she always always always make time for you, that's crazy!! what does that mean!!! you don't know because she's insane and doesn't register the way you look at her with hearts in your eyes as anything but friendly, so she's determined to respect your wishes and keep being your friend. you definitely end up kissing her first. it's worth it though <3

#loser!ellie #modern!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons

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inmyicyworld · 10 months

Text

Do you want me to help you?

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: when you and Bucky stay at your place, things get hot pretty fast.

Words count: 2k.

Warnings: smut, Bucky gets his first blowjob, he’s insecure, and loud, a lot of pet names, swallowing.

Author’s note: i’m here again with a little one-shot to fulfill your dirty minds🩷

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

It was another Friday night when you invited Bucky to your place so you could order some food, watch movies, and cuddle under the blankets.

Then you didn’t know that you had just met your future boyfriend.

Now, you don’t know how you ended up in this situation, but you were sitting on Bucky’s lap on your couch while the two of you were too lost in the kiss.

At that moment, he came to his senses, stopped your hips with his hands, and pulled out of the kiss, breathing heavily.

"What happened?" You asked while trying to catch your breath. "Was it too much?"

"That’s okay, baby, I promise. We can go at your own pace. I didn’t have sex for some time too, so that’s okay." You smiled at him while your hand found a place on his stubbled cheeks.

"It’s not just a few years." He mumbled.

"What?"

"I haven’t had sex since I went to war." Silence fell on you while you were trying to process his words.

"Wait… really?" He nodded.

"You know, while I was with HYDRA, I was busy with different… things. And after that, I was just trying to get back to a normal life."

"I see, but I really thought that you at least were with someone in Bucharest or in Wakanda."

"Oh my God, I’m sorry!"

"T-that’s okay, just don’t move, please. It will disappear." Bucky threw his head back on the couch and closed his eyes tightly.

"Do… do you want me to help you?" You asked almost innocently. "I mean, we don’t have to have sex, but I can do other things to help your problem."

There was another awkward silence when Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You don’t have to do that. Really."

"What if I want to?" You moved closer to his face, almost touching his lips. "Would you let me take care of you?"

"Wait! You want to—you don’t have to—I mean– fuck." Bucky hid his face behind his hand from embarrassment. You act like a fucking child.

"Hey, baby. Talk to me. It’s okay." You put your hands on top of his, pulling them away. "What happened, James? You thought I meant to help you with my hands?"

"You’re not a mess, Bucky. So you’ve never got a blowjob? Even before the war? I thought you were a ladies’ man." You asked gently.

"I understand. And that’s okay if you don't have experience in something. You don’t have to be ashamed, at least not before me. I still want to do this, if you don’t mind." Bucky nodded again before leaning closer to your face and kissing you with passion.

You started moving your head up and down, still looking Bucky in the eyes. The tip of his dick met your throat, but there were still a few inches left.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Y/N, holy shit!" He whined and threw his head back.

You let him slip out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and started stroking him with a hand, using the mixture of your saliva and Bucky’s pre-cum to make it easier.

"James?" You gently put your hand on his face.

"I’m glad you liked it."

"Liked? Doll, you almost sucked my soul out." He chuckled. "Now I have to pay back." Suddenly, one warm and one cold hand were under your pajama shorts.

"Not today, baby. You’re tired. Would you stay for a night?" You bumped your nose with his, leaving light and short kisses on his lips.

"Of course, doll."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #smut oneshot #x reader #one shot #fem reader #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction

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jubiilee13 · 6 months

Note

JOSH HUTCHERSON. I do badly wanna make a request for Josh from the forger but I must show restraint

Anyways Mike asking you to officially be his gf?

JOSH HUTCHERSON JOSH HUTCHERSON AOQWEIIOWEIOOIAWEFIOFWAEWGAGEHRGAHREW

my husband

anyways here u go pooksters

warnings: female pronouns, fluff, reader has a nightmare, smooching just a lil

I didn’t check spelling on this so if it’s horrible I’m so sorry 😭

mikes job was not an easy one.

neither was managing a younger sister.

but thats where you came in.

you and mike had known one another since high school, though you two hadn’t been the closest pair at the time. gentle smiles in the halls and small hellos were about all that went on in your mind.

but not for sweet old mike.

he adored you, every second he got to be in your presence was like heaven.

looking back on it he wasn't sure how you hadn't noticed his longing stares, the blush coating his cheeks, the way he fumbled over his words.

he was in love with you, that was clear to everyone but you.

so when the end of high school rolled around, the two of you fell out of touch.

he was sad, yes, but he had abby to worry about, and some cute girl couldn't get in his way.

so for the next few years nothing happened between the two of you, and he just assumed you had moved away to some far away place. eventually the amount thoughts of you in his mind began to dwindle down, until you only crossed his mind at most 2 times a year.

that was until a few months ago that is...

long story short mike had posted a few flyers about needing a baby sitter for abby, and low and behold someone sent him a message and sweetly said they'd love to meet up with him over coffee to discuss more details.

so thats exactly what happened, mike put on his most formal clothes (which wasnt really much) and began his journey to the coffee shop. He anxiously wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, silently cursing himself for his nervous habits. before he knew it the coffee shop was just ahead, and as he stepped inside it was like his heart stopped beating.

it was you.

He tried to hide his smile but you could read that man like an open book.

The two of you talked for several hours, about the job, about life, about everything.

you could've kept going even, if it werent for mike having to pick up abby from school.

so you bid your farewells and mike informed you that you could start watching abby the following day.

as mike worked each night, you stayed with abby, doing everything with her, and she loved it.

every day she would gush to mike about you, talking about the adventures and fun times the two of you had shared.

mike listened every time as well, and every time he did so he couldnt help but note how his feelings for you began to return.

after all, you were so sweet, so gentle, so... loving.

how could he help it?

every morning after his shift he would come home to find leftovers on the counter, alongside a small handwritten note from you, each time saying something ever so sweet.

on top of that he would also find you dozing on the couch, and every time he saw you sleeping so peacefully he would just admire you for a few moments, always opting to cover you with his jacket or a blanket before he sent himself off to bed as well.

so that brings us to tonight.

mike walks through the door with a yawn, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he places his vest on the coat rack, dragging himself into the kitchen as he picks up your sweet note.

"abby insisted on pizza and spaghetti tonight so take your pick sugar, i hope work was well, i hope you dont mind but i forgot a change of clothes tonight and abby grabbed a pair of your boxers and an old sweatshirt of yours, i just threw it on for tonight, i promise ill get it back to you clean asap! lots of love, - y/n" the note read.

mike cant help but chuckle at your rambling, and he picks up the plate full of pizza and he reaches out to open the microwave but stops in his tracks when he hears something.

something so faint he wasnt even sure he had really heard it.

then it happened again, louder now and mikes blood ran cold.

it was you, your cries.

mike rushes into the living room, and his body visibly relaxes when he finds you still deep in slumber on the couch.

a small frown falls on his face when he notices you squirming, a distressed look across your sleeping features as a few frantic words escape your mouth in slumber.

"no! mike- mike please- dont- i need you mike please" you murmured, so softly that mike was sure he was hallucinating.

still he approached your sleeping figure, his rough hands gently making their way to your shoulders.

“hey hey hey” he whispered as he gently shook you, concern in his eyes.

yet you didn’t budge, body trembling beneath him as small whines escape you, even some small tears slipping past your closed eyes.

he shook you harder now, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you shoot upright, but his relief quickly fades as a quiet sob escapes your lips.

your teary e/c eyes scan over him, almost checking to see if it’s really him.

once your brain finally decides to accept the fact that he’s really in front of you, you fling yourself towards him, more sobs escaping your lips “oh mikey” you cry out.

mike immediately wraps his arms around your torso, one hand moving up to comb through your hair.

“woah woah woah I’m right here pretty girl, I’m here, I’m here” he coos into your ear, holding your trembling frame.

the two of you stayed like that until your sobs turned into small sniffles, your head resting on his shoulder as you took in his scent.

“m’sorry…” you mumble into the crook of his neck

“it’s ok don’t apologise silly, do you wanna talk about it?” he quietly asks you, and you nod.

“I- you died mikey… in my dream… you- you were gone! I- I was so scared… I can’t lose you” you say between hiccups, and he hopes you can’t tell how your words make his heart race.

“im not leaving anytime soon pretty girl, can i tell you a secret y/n?” he asks as he brushes a hair behind your ear.

he chuckles when you nod and cuddle further into him, his face flushing ever so slightly, not that you could notice in the dim light of the room anyways.

“ive been in love with you since freshman year” he murmurs, and with those words your body grows stiff and you sight upright.

“y-you have?” your shaky voice asks

he nods, his orbs locking onto your own, and he goes to speak, his nerves getting the best of him, but before he can you cut him off.

with a kiss.

you had kissed mike.

mike just kissed the love of his life.

the kiss was sweet, gentle, and it seemingly lasted forever.

the two of you eventually pulled away for air, chests heaving as you both gasp gently for air.

you both go to speak at the same time

“I love you so much-“

“I’m so in love with you”

you both gasp at the others words, and you can’t help but giggle.

“so does this mean..?” you question, as you absentmindedly cuddle closer into him

“mean what? that you’re my girlfriend?” he asks gently

“if you want me to be” you say with a smile, awaiting his next words

“well how can I say no to a smile like that?”

—

this is prob really bad I haven’t written in forever but I’m lowkey kinda proud of it for rn, I hope you enjoy!

#gaytoadwithapopsicle <3 #request #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader

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spicyllewyn · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 5. - Pregnant / lactation.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Pregnancy + lactation. (+18)

As you all know I hate Will for no real reason, this is my peace offering to a fictional character, lol.

Word count. 2K

Summary. You love babying him.

Kinktober masterlist.

Pregnancy was becoming unbearable at times; you felt heavy, your feet ached even after just a few steps around the house, and sleeping at night was turning into a daily battle. Fortunately, there was no doubt in your mind that you had chosen the right life partner.

The only thing keeping you sane right now was Will and how he went out of his way to make you happy and make this whole thing more bearable.

You always joked with him, saying that anyway, all of this was his fault, so the least he could do for you was to fulfill your cravings and massage your shoulders until you fell asleep.

Oh, and that pillow with a hole in the center that allowed you to lie face down.

"I miss my pillow," you murmured in a low tone as you remembered it. You closed the door behind you slowly.

Will's room was just as he had left it several years ago when he left home for college, where he met you. Nonetheless, you wandered around with curiosity, looking at his movie posters that perhaps only he had seen, and the occasional Lego figure that you doubted he would let his future child touch someday.

"I told you we could come up with some excuse."

"Every time you suggest we make up an excuse, it has to do with pretending that one of us died," you rolled your eyes. "Your parents are not believing it for more than two times in a row." When you had 4 walls around you for privacy, your hands went to the hem of your shirt, getting rid of it, clearly tired of wearing any type of clothing.

Will watched you from the bed, as if you were giving him a personal show. His eyes roaming over your bare skin, always lingering a few extra seconds on your breasts before looking up again and pretending that the lack of sex wasn't killing him.

You were both too introverted to simply ask at gynecologist appointments, “Hey, is it wise to have uncontrolled sex against some furniture at this point in pregnancy?” so you just assumed the answer was no.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

You frowned at his question.

"What?"

“I'm serious, I notice something different about you.”

One of his pillows landed right in his face, making him laugh. You already knew that joke too well.

“Yes, idiot, I'm pregnant.” The mattress squeaked as you lay down, only wearing your loose pants and the sports bra that had become your best friend a few days ago because it turns out that your normal bras decided they didn't want to close anymore eventually.

That was the only piece of fabric that kept your tits in place, tight and comfortable. It was also a headache for Will.

The changes that pregnancy had made in your body never ceased to amaze him even though he had analyzed each one for hours as the months passed. There was the obvious, that completely new sparkle in your eyes, your cheeks flushed 24/7 and your skin seemed to be glowing more than ever.

But on the other hand there were the things that made him fantasize about the nights he stayed on the couch fucking his own hand to try to control the impulses that attacked him more times than he would like lately. Your hips became wider, your thighs were softer but oh, his favorite part was definitely your breasts.

Round, full, hard, delicious.

You were complaining about pain recently and he didn't know if that was a sign that he should help you in some way or just not touch you and wait patiently for the pain to go away in a few weeks when the baby was born.

“Did you know…” He murmured, taking his eyes off his phone for a few seconds to look at you. You did the same.

Lying together to chat or just watch stupid videos on your phones had become routine when the pain in your back kept you from sleeping or when you took too many naps throughout the day and all your energy was reserved for the night.

Yes, Will stayed up with you each and every one of those times.

"Did I know what?"

“Did you know that there are freaks who like milk?”

You frowned.

“I like milk, what's so strange about it?”

He rolled his eyes with a small smile.

“Breast milk, I mean.”

“Oh…” Needless to say, you already knew that the father of your future baby was… peculiar. He had perfectly mastered the act of bringing up the strangest topics of conversation lately. You shrugged. “It doesn't seem that strange to me.”

"No?" If your gaze hadn't returned to your phone you would have noticed the mischievous glint on his eyes.

You had taken the bait.

“No, I mean.” There you went, to reason with the madman, always engrossed in his midnight talks. “You used to suck on my boobs all the time, do you mean you wouldn't do it anymore if there was milk involved? Not to mention that you are addicted to eating me out, it wouldn't be the first time you drink some liquid from my body.”

“Mhm.” He pretended to consider your response before nodding slowly, agreeing with you. The truth is that Will had considered the possibility since he had noticed the circular stains that suddenly began to appear on your shirts. “You have a point.”

"See?" You felt triumphant to think that you had changed his way of thinking. Your gaze returned to your phone and you took the topic for granted.

“Though I don't understand how anyone could be sexually attracted to that.”

You looked up again.

“Are you kidding?”

“Of course not, don't you think it's strange?”

You rolled your eyes, finally lowering your phone and placing it on the cabinet next to you so you could face him.

"Do you want to try?"

"What?" He played dumb and you fell into his trap again.

"Do you want to try? I will show you that there is nothing strange about it.”

He again pretended to consider your proposal and with his lower lip trapped between his teeth he nodded slowly.

"Good." He also put his phone aside, sitting up in bed as if considering which position was best to settle into. His pupils dilated when he saw you take off your top.

He had been trying for a long time not to stare at your completely naked breasts or else we wasn't going to be able to control himself anymore. Your nipples were always hard, occasionally with a drop or two of milk running through them, so sensitive and delicious.

You looked at him, clearing your throat to get his attention.

"Take off your shirt." Your voice sounded like an order.

He obediently did so. His tanned skin making your mouth water and making your cheeks blush even more than usual. You were a hormonal mess a long time ago.

“How should I…?”

“Just lay your head here.” You pointed to the hill where your pregnant belly began, just below your breasts.

“But, I don't want to hurt-”

“You're not going to hurt me, Will.” Your voice came out in frustration as you gave two small taps to the area you had pointed out before. He hesitated a little before taking his place there, the weight of his head and part of his body was not uncomfortable, on the contrary, his body heat felt stupidly good.

Skin to skin contact was something you wouldn't trade for a million dollars.

“You look so pretty like this.” You whispered in a low, loving voice. A dopey smile on your face when you had the chance to see him from a completely new angle.

His huge eyes were fixed on you, he had to look up so he could fix his gaze on you while you looked down. Your fingers gently ran through his hair, a while ago you had noticed that his curls became more noticeable when his hair was a little longer than usual.

“Go on.” You cooed while he licked his lips.

You didn't have to ask twice, Will settled into his spot and took part of your breast into his mouth, pressing his tongue against your hard, sensitive nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine, resulting in a wave of pleasure directly between your legs. A delicious heat pooling on your lower abdomen.

He for his part moaned against your skin. You tasted so sweet.

“T-That's it.” You encouraged him with blushing cheeks. “Just like that, baby.”

It didn't take him long to pick up the pace he wanted, you could hear him gulp and suck, over and over again while your trembling hands ran through his hair slowly, comforting him.

You knew how much he was enjoying it when you saw him close his eyes. A couple of drops running down the edge of his lips.

“You taste so fucking good.” It was the only thing he stammered before going back to his job. He rested the weight of his body on you a little more and you didn't complain, you missed having him on you so much, caging you against any surface that he found and his body.

He raised a hand, his fingers squeezing your breast as if he wanted to squeeze out every last drop. His cock twitched under his baggy pants and you at the same time squeezed your legs together, your slick already making your underwear wet and sticky.

“Do you like it, baby?” Your voice was breathy.

It was incredible how your bodies began to react as if you were a pair of desperate teenagers, seeking relief in any friction you might have with each other.

“Help me with t-the other one, yeah? Please?" You begged when you could finally feel some kind of relief on your tit, it was no longer hard and swollen. All this time you had only needed this? If you had known before.

He looked up with dilated pupils, licking his lips with heavy breathing.

"Please." You whispered once more, your fingers giving his hair a light tug that snapped him out of the spell you seemed to have placed on him with just a few gulps of warm milk.

You gave him a push with your hand and he obeyed, tracing exactly four circles around your right nipple before leaning down again and taking it into his mouth. Now that he was almost face down to reach the other side his hips began a slow rocking motion against the bed.

You, meanwhile, squeezed your legs together, your soft thighs giving you a bit of relief that made you whimper.

“Such a good boy.” You closed your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly, finding it impossible to calm the rhythm of your breathing. Eventually you understood that it wasn't just the sensitivity of your body, it was the situation.

Your sweet voice praising him, listening to the way he swallowed and the way he whimpered desperately just from the pleasure that sucking on your tit gave him.

You were no longer hiding the clumsy movements of your hips, nor was he the way he pretended to be fucking the mattress. His sensitive cock throbing every time he rubbed against his favorite blanket.

The friction was giving delicious warmth to his needy erection and your milk was doing the same to his entire body. Warm and delicious running through his throat.

Your thrusts were making the mattress creak under your bodies although you didn't last more than a couple of seconds longer. Abstinence was your best excuse to explain why something like this had led you to have one of the most delicious orgasms of your entire relationship.

It was definitely not what you had done per se, right?

When he pushed himself up so he could kiss you you could taste the milk and his saliva combined. You understood well why the taste had driven him crazy.

“See?” You whispered against his lips. “Not weird at all.”

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