#What Is Sports Betting and How Does It Work?

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - seo changbin (2nd to lose)

-> pairing : changbin x fem!reader

-> words count : 3,4k

-> genre : smut, gym crush

-> warnings : changbin is whipped for you, semi-public sex, teasing, dirty talk, praising, protected sex, oral (m. receiving), fingering, a little bit of degradation + the way i'm depicting changbin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

Hyunjin loss made Changbin very confident in his chances to win this bet. He didn’t have a girlfriend, and he knew he was able to contain himself. When he was in a situationship with someone, he was insatiable. But it wasn’t the case right now, problem solved.

Or at least, problem solved until you enter the equation. You’re the only thing that could lead him to lose and the only reason why he has been going to another gym since November started. Because he knew that if he saw you, he was screwed. You were always teasing him. You were always wearing shorts that rode up your ass with every move you made. You were always ending up letting go of your shirt and exposing your breast in a sports bra. You were always asking him to help you in a way that he had to touch you. And all of that will, without any doubt, bring him to his breaking point. 

So he avoided the gym he usually got to in order not to give in. He missed your body, the way you looked at him as if you wanted to devour him, your habit to bite your bottom lip just after teasing him. He missed you. But he couldn’t take the risk. And moreover, you never mentioned it. You never clearly told him that you wanted him like he wanted you. Maybe he was being delusional from the start and that was only him. But he was not ready to have this conversation now, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. He had always been respectful and he planned on standing by that. 

Tonight, though, he really needed a good session at the gym. It was late, very late. He just got out of the studio, and he wanted to clear his mind. He needed it, in fact. And since it was not your usual schedule, Changbin thought you wouldn’t be there. But you were. And now, he couldn’t really turn back and run away. You saw him. 

He closed his eyes, wondering if he would be able to survive this. Because as soon as your eyes landed on him, you smiled brightly before approaching him. Now that he was seeing you after only a week, Changbin was starting to understand how important you were for him. Yes, he had the biggest crush on you, but not just because of your body. You were kind, careful, and he felt safe with you. Somehow, you were always able to make him talk and comfort him about anything and everything. He wanted to take you out. But he also wanted to bend you over one of the bench and fuck you dumb. 

“- Hey Changbin ! It’s been a long time ! How you doing ?”

He gulped, trying to compose himself. Your voice was doing things to him he didn’t want to think about right now. 

“- Yeah, I know, sorry for not warning you. Been busy these days…

- Don’t apologize, it's fine ! Well, I’m gonna let you work out but… I’m happy to see you again, kinda boring without you.”

You laughed at your own words, sending him one of these looks that made him feel like he was a chocolate cake you wanted to eat until the last crumbs. You came back to working out, and so did Changbin. But honestly, he spent most of his time staring at you. He almost forgot what you looked like, all sweaty in your gym clothes. And he wanted nothing more than to tattoo this sight in his memories forever. 

Changbin hoped you’ll let him work out in peace for once, it was already taking him all of his self-control not to get hard just staring at you. But you didn’t listen to his silent prayers. You came to him, like every other time before that, asking him to help you out with your stretching. He just knew it was more teasing. He knew that you would find a way to get him hard, like every time. But he gave up, like every time. 

He followed you to the place where you left your bottle of water and your towel, watching you sit down and spread your legs before leaning in between them, waiting for him to push your back. Changbin took a deep breath before placing his hands on your skin, feeling it warm under his palms. He held back the urge to let them wander to your breast, and just applied pressure to help you go further. And of course, you left out the dirtiest moans while doing so, playing it as if it was only a sign of your struggle. But Changbin knew. He knew that was just another way of teasing him. Suddenly, he standed back up on his feet, his hands leaving you. 

“- I- Um… I have no more water left, I’m just going to fill it up in the bathroom.”

And with that, he escaped as quickly as he could, not noticing the proud grin on your lips. But he clearly noticed that he was getting really hard just because of you making some suggestive sounds. Gosh. Why didn’t he just skip the gym tonight ? Changbin took some minutes to calm down, or at least, trying to do so. But all he could think about was your fucking voice, moaning his name and begging him. So, yeah, it was pretty difficult to cool down under these circumstances. 

When he finally found the courage to come back to you, you were doing some other stretches. A one that exposed your ass to him. And he immediately got hard again. Changbin sighed. He would never hear the end of it, but he had wanted you for too long and the frustration started to really annoy him. So he said your name, asking you to come with him to the changing room because he “had a problem”. 

“- So what’s the matter ? What do you ne-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt your back hit a cold surface and soon enough, his hands were next to your head, preventing you from leaving. Your eyes dived into Changbin’s ones. They were darker than you've ever seen them, and it turned you on. 

“- Changbin ?”

Your hesitant tone made him unsure of what he did for a second. Maybe he misunderstood your behavior ? But you stared at his lips a little bit too long, and he knew he was totally right. 

“- Don’t play dumb baby. We both know that’s what you wanted for the longest time, isn’t it ?”

You shivered at his low voice. It did something to you. His voice, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw was clenching as if he was holding himself from saying or doing something. 

“- And what will you do about that, hm ? Shut me up ? I would love to see yo-”

Once again, he didn’t give you the chance to say another word. But this time, he interrupted you with his lips. They crashed on yours, and he kissed you hungrily, as if he wanted to do that for years. You moaned in the kiss, letting go of all the tension that builded up in your body. He added his tongue to the mix, leaving you breathless. You could have come only from the feeling of his hot mouth against yours, of his big hands on your waist pushing you onto his hard cock, still covered by his shorts. 

“- Stop teasing now, or I won’t be kind. 

- Don’t want you to be kind Binnie… Want you to be rough.”

He groaned at your words, gripping on your waist and spinning you around, pushing you while kissing your neck until your knees hit the bench behind you, sitting down on it. You raised your eyes to see him setting himself between your legs, spreading them wider with his knee. He was so fucking hot. And all you knew at this moment was that you wanted him. So bad. 

“- Then suck me off. Now.”

You watched him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help glaring all over the room to be sure no one was there or hearing your conversation. It was late, and you were probably the last ones here, but still, it was not 100% sure.

“- You… You sure you want to do that here ?”

Seeing the panicked look on your face, Changbin prepared himself to be the pervert of the year in your book. 

“- Y-Yeah… I mean, only if you want it too. We can just forget what happened if you want. I’m fine with th-

- I’m more than fine with that, just wanted to be sure you were.”

This time, you cut him off, but he’s not going to complain. Not when you were smiling at him while undoing the knot of his shorts. Not when you were sliding his clothes down his thigh and looking at his cock with adoration. Not when you took it in your hands and licked your lips as if you wanted to eat it. 

“- So big… Knew you'll be…”

Changbin groans once again and lets his finger play with your bottom lips, the one you always bite when you tease him. This time, it’s his thumb that you bit playfully, making him want to bury himself deep inside you right now. You let go of his finger and put your mouth to a much more useful activity. 

You started by just licking the tip of his cock, tasting him for the first time and almost moaning at the feeling. You wanted to do that for so long, and you were far from being disappointed. So you licked him all over, wetting his dick until it was practically dripping with your saliva. And just when Changbin was about to tell you to finally take him in your mouth, you did it. He growled and threw his head back, putting a hand in your hair, grabbing it firmly and making you moan around his cock. 

“- Keep going baby… You’re so good at this…”

As an answer, you started to bob your head on his dick, taking more and more of him in your mouth with every thrust. Soon enough, Changbin was only able to groan and moan under your lips, tongue and mouth, having just enough self control not to bury himself deep in your throat and cum right there. That’s why he forced you to let out of his cock, grabbing you by your hair and he could have come just seeing the fucked out look on your face, saliva smeared all over your chin and eyes shining with lust. 

“- Take off your clothes.”

You didn’t think twice before obeying, standing up in front of him and throwing away your sports bra, your shorts and your panties. In another situation, you would have felt exposed and ashamed. But with the way Changbin was looking at you -  like he wanted to devour every part of your body - you could only feel confident. 

You slid your hands under the hem of his shirt, grazing his firm abs with your nails. You saw him shiver distinctly under your touch as you helped him throw away his last piece of clothing as well with a smile. You could drool over his body for hours, but you would have time for that later. For now, you just wanted to feel him in you. And even if you were really turned on by the situation, it was risky and you had to be quick. So you kissed him again, bringing him with you to the cashier until your back was pressed against it. 

“- Turn around for me baby, hm ?”

It wasn’t a real question, and you were far too gone to register the fact you were going to fuck with Changbin in the changing room of the gym. No, this was thinking material for tomorrow morning. For now, you just did what he asked you to, whining when you felt his strong hands gripping your waist and his hard cock sliding against your wet folds. 

“- Can I- Is it okay if I-”

Changbin had to take a deep breath before going on with his words. It was already unbelievable for him to have you bend over for him like this, maybe he was pushing his luck.

“- Shit- Can I fuck you ?”

You giggled at his words, as if your wetness and all the noises you were making since the start weren’t enough to indicate him you were more than okay with fucking him, that you wanted it for a long time now. 

“- You’re sweet… Yes, you can fuck me Binnie, you don’t know how much I’ve dreamt about it…”

Changbin was glad you couldn’t see him right now, because he knew from the heat that was eating them up that his cheeks were red. His cock twitched at the thought of you, dreaming about him fucking you. Was all of that even real ? You opening the cashier next to you and searching in your bag until you handed him a condom made him come back to reality. It was more than real, and Changbin didn’t want to miss a single second of it. 

“- How long have you been keeping that with you ? 

- You wished you knew.”

He chuckled and proceeded to put the condom on his dick, making you shiver in anticipation. You were waiting for this since the first time your eyes landed on him, and it was finally happening right now. Changbin didn’t let you much time to think about it before pushing one finger in you. He didn’t expect you to be this wet though, nor did he expect you to moan and rock your hips against his hand. 

“- Please… Don’t tease Binnie…

- I- Don’t you need prep ?”

This time, you chuckled and glared at him upon your shoulder, just to appreciate the way his face was expressing his feelings ; surprise, yes, but mostly lust. And that turned you on even more, if that was even possible. 

“- No, just want your big dick inside me…”

Changbin growled before removing his finger and quickly replacing it with his cock, making you moan and closing your eyes shut. The feeling was so good, too good. It was overwhelming, in a way that made you want to fuck yourself on his dick until you both came. And you did exactly that, not noticing how tense the man behind you was, how deep his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips. All you were feeling now was him.

“- Changbin… Fuck- You’re so good…”

However, you felt Changbin hands gripping so hard you just had to stop moving, even if it was a literal torture to feel it inside you and being unable to move. You whined, almost sobbing because you needed him, you needed to feel him deeper and deeper with each thrust. But he didn’t seem to be eager to do that. 

“- Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight baby.”

You gasped at his firm voice, and you couldn’t help your walls clenching around him. His voice did things to you, it was a physical reaction, but it was enough to make him groan again. You stayed still even if it took all you had in you not to rut against him to try and get some friction. What you didn’t know was that Changbin was overwhelmed by the feeling of you. He needed a moment to calm down or else he would cum right now. And he wanted your first time together to be as good as possible for the both of you. 

“- Bet you’ve been keeping this fucking condom with you since the first day. Wanted me to notice you and your dirty mouth, hm ?”

You wanted to answer, but all that let out your mouth was moans as he started thrusting in you so hard you thought you would crash in the locker in front of you. Changbin was buried deep inside you, that was the only thing on your mind. 

“- Already going dumb for my dick… That was all you wanted all along, being all nice and kind just to get me there…”

You wanted to tell him something, to tease him too, but you couldn’t. You were only able to whine and moan his name as he kept moving in you at a steady path, rubbing this particular spot that got you to cry out quickly.

“- Changbin ! Fuck- So good…

- I know baby, you feel so good too… Wet and tight just for me, taking me so well.”

Your moans were enough for him to tell you were enjoying this as much as he was. Changbin was trying to sound composed, but he was on the verge of losing his mind just because of you. You were making him dizzy ; your warm cunt, your ass jiggling with every thrust, your moans of his name like in his wet dreams. All of that was driving him crazy, and adding the fact that he hadn't cum since eight days now, he knew he wouldn’t last long. 

But Changbin was determined to make you come before him, wanted to hear your fucked out noises first. So he sneaked his hand to your clit, rubbing it as roughly as he was thrusting in you. And then, you were losing your mind over him. 

“- Gonna- Shit ! Changbin… G-Gonna cum… Please…

- No need to beg baby, you’re gonna get it.”

However, it stroked his ego so much, knowing you were this intoxicated by him, maybe as much as he was by you. Changbin sped up his moves, both of his dick in you and his hand on your clit, making you come in a matter of seconds. He didn’t last long either, immediately losing it when he felt your cunt clenching so hard around him, moaning your name as he continued to thrust into you through both of your orgasms. 

The moment he pulled out of you after you both calmed down a bit, you started to put on your clothes back. Changbin felt his heart dropping to the floor. Maybe he was just fooling himself all along ? Maybe you just wanted a quick fuck ? Maybe you were regretting it ? Maybe you didn’t want to talk to him ever again after this ? He felt bad. Really bad. But he was also feeling like it was his only chance to finally ask you out. If you rejected him, he’d go bury himself six feet underground and would never come back here. But what if you said yes ? If he was standing a chance, even a little one, he wanted to take it. 

So he called your name as you were putting your shoes back on, as if you were really ready to get out and never think about this again, which made Changbin even more nervous if it was possible. But he had to do this. It was now or never.

“- Do you- Do you want to grab coffee with me ? We… We could like talk and hum… It could be fun, I think.”

He knew he sounded terrible and awful, and he could already hear Seungmin making fun of him for it. But for now, he was waiting for you to answer, the knot of anguish in his stomach tighter than ever.

“- Is it… Will it be like a date or something ?”

Changbin's eyes widened at your question. You were thinking he just wanted to do this with you once and go with his life like nothing happened ? He could never. He was already too into you to go back. 

“- Y-Yeah ! I mean, if you want it to be a date, then, yes.”

Your warm smile made the knot disappear, and the second he felt you pecking his lips innocently, his heart starting to beat faster when you looked him in the eyes. 

“- Then I’ll wait for you outside.”

You turned around and got out of the changing rooms, your bag on your shoulder and a bright smile on your lips as you closed the door to let him put his clothes back on. At this precise moment, he knew he didn’t give a fuck about the bet. No, he didn’t care when Minho teased him about it, saying back to him his latter statement, when he told everyone he would win just yesterday. No, he couldn’t care when he had you. And he would happily spend the rest of the month fucking you and loving you.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

taglist : @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoodjudgepsychic @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @anonymousreader55 @iwannabangchan69 @b3t0xic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @abbystaysstuff @chrishak @cscsi @minskzy @hyunlixs-wife0309 @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @kaitchan @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings).

[moamidzyism]

oh, baby (c.bg)

wc. 1149

genre. smut

request. trying to get pregnant w beomgyu so y'all have been having sex nonstop everytime you're ovulating

tags. husband!beomgyu x fem!reader, breeding kink, pet names (baby), implied kitchen sex, implied shower sex, unprotected sex (lol duh), impreg kink, pussy drunk beomgyu, (slight) marking, manhandling (if you turn your head to the side and squint), mommy used twice non-sexually

a/n. repost; i was thinking about this nonstop since i saw the request anon i need to kiss your brain. you sent this over almost two month ago i'm sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy <;333 thank you to @sunnylovespickles and @huenation for helping me read this and organize my thoughts

more of my work

you and beomgyu had been married for a year and a half when he finally brought up the idea of having kids with you. you were scrolling through your feed in bed one night when you stumbled upon a post from an old classmate at her baby shower. beomgyu absentmindedly responded, i bet our kids would look cuter, prompting the very serious and incredibly long overdue conversation about one day growing your little family. and after that night and some doctor’s appointments, he was determined to get you all pretty and round before the end of the year.

one thing about beomgyu is that he genuinely cannot keep his hands off of you. so on a sunday morning, when he wakes up to an empty space in the bed beside him, he searches for you all over the house before stumbling into you in the kitchen. he sees you making pancakes and can’t help but think about your kids one day running around, helping you cook, and setting the table. he wraps his hands around your waist from behind, his hard cock prodding your ass. nuzzling his head into your neck, he mumbles, good morning, baby. you hum in response, melting into his touch. he takes this as an opportunity to slyly turn off the stove. you whine his name, protesting for him to let you finish cooking. but that doesn’t stop him from pulling you towards the island and hoisting you up on the counter. he looks up at you with a smirk. you’re the only thing i wanna eat this morning, baby.

a few days later you find beomgyu sitting at his desk when you come home from the gym, he glances up at you but his eyes can’t help but stop at your chest glistening with sweat, your boobs spilling out of your tight sports bra. and of course that naturally leads him to fantasize about what your boobs would look like when you’re pregnant, so swollen and so so beautiful. going to take a shower, then we can figure dinner out. you tell him as you retreat to the bathroom. it’s not up to five minutes later when you hear the shower curtain open, your husband slides in behind you. if we’re gonna have a baby, we should start saving on our water bill, don’t you think?

but beomgyu wasn’t the only one who was entirely insatiable. some days, like today for instance, when you spend the entire work day thinking about your husband and how much you need him to fuck you, the last thing you want to see when you come home are his friends sitting around your living room. internally groaning, you wave to them while signaling to beomgyu to follow you into the bedroom.

“your friends.” you state one the two of you are in the privacy of your room.

“what about them?” he asks, his face marked with confusion. you give him a look that conveyed frustration and yearning and the realization dawns on him.

“aww,” he coos. “does someone need me?”

“please can you just tell them to go home?” you whine and without hesitation he leaves the room. you sink into the bed for what feels like an eternity until beomgyu saunters back into the room towards you.

“took you long enough.” you mumble as you pull him closer to you.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he chuckles in response.

“felt like twenty.” you reach up to kiss him passionately, your hands trailing up his torso, taking his t-shirt up with it.

“can we–” he tries to break away from this kiss. “can we slow down?”

“need you so bad.” you mumble against his lips.

“yeah?” he asks coyly.

“yeah,” your hands race to unbutton your work pants. “need you to fuck a baby in me.” beomgyu’s eyes widened. sure, you had both agreed to try for a baby but to hear you say this so explicitly just confirmed for him that his desires to start a family with you weren’t one sided. beomgyu joins you in taking off your clothes, his hands swiftly unbuttoning your shirt, nearly ripping the buttons off.

you’re laying in bed clad in nothing, with beomgyu hovering above you. his gaze falls upon you, tracing your form, as if you were the most alluring thing he’d ever seen.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathes out before leaning down to kiss you. “i know i joke a lot,” he confesses between kisses. “but i want this so bad. you, us, our family. everything.”

he slips his throbbing cock between your warm folds causing you to let out a soft gasp. “me too. i want you. everything.” you parrot his words. he steadily grinds his hip against yours as he stares into your eyes and for a moment it seems like it’s only the two of you in the world.

loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down into a kiss. your hands explore the contours of his body trying to find the best way to keep him in your grasp, to make sure that this was not an eerily realistic dream and he was actually here with you, in you. “i love you.” you moan out clenching around him.

his eyes close shut and a groan erupts from his throat when he feels your walls tighten around him. “fuck, your so… so tight baby.”

beomgyu accelerates his thrusts, his movements becoming sloppier and messier by the second. your hands find themselves resting on the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking this as an opportunity to paint your skin with marks in between the sloppy kisses he was leaving.

as he inches closer to his climax, you feel his movements slow down as he fucks deeper into you. he’s trying to prolong his orgasm, trying to feel you around him for longer. “m’gonna cum, baby. gonna get you all pretty and pregnant for me. gonna make you a mommy tonight.”

his eyes clouded over as his movements became weaker and hips began to stutter. you let out a loud moan, your eyes fluttering closed when you felt him pumping his load deep inside you, filling you up with his seed.

still inside of you, beomgyu rolls over so you are laying on top of him. he caresses your hair, whispering i love yous between kisses on your forehead. you rest like that, tangled in each others’ arms, for a moment before you convince him to take a shower with you. when you actually get pregnant, you make it a routine to look at your baby bump in the mirror every morning. beomgyu sitting in front of you, tenderly caressing your round belly before pressing a loving kiss and murmuring something about you being the prettiest mommy in the world.

taglist: @atinyniki @boba-beom @dearlyjun @wiisoob @isabellah29

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[radiocrypt-id]

The bad kids haven't really looked too closely at the Rat Grinders (meta wise I know it's a commentary on different play styles and how shitty xp farming is and how op players/parties can become by doing the bare minimum if they put in the time while everyone else plays the damn game) but I find the split perspective problems absolutely fascinating. I can't wait for the Bad Kids to look at the Rat Grinders with envy and anger that the Rat Grinders got to live a normal highschool life without all this insane danger and experience being a teenager without it being the end of the world for them. Right now they just hate the Rat Grinders energy and are matching it back (which is a very high school thing to do. To have beef with a whole other group of kids and not even know why but you'll die on this hill because they started shit first)

Because to the Rat Grinders, from a purely outside perspective, the Bad Kids are fucking monarchs of the school, right? They skipped classes, ran around town, fought people, got arrested, hung out with a big devil? Every new staff member came at their recommendation? One of them has both her dads working at the school?? The destroyed school property, got teachers killed, straight murdered the coach? These fucking kids run around and are apparently scott-free? because the principal liked their chaos enough to let it go and help them avoid the police? To the Rat Grinders, the Bad Kids are untouchable. They're exempt from the law. They're liars, cheats and need to be humbled. It's unfair. From everyone elses perspective, it really does look like the Bad Kids have been given crazy favourtism.

Meanwhile, all of the Bad Kids have died at least once. They've been irreparably changed and are in a constant state of fight or flight. They assume everything is dangerous and anyone might be an enemy because for two goddamn years that was the exact case! They couldn't trust any adult first year! Literally anyone could have been infected with Kalina second year! who knows what happened with the Night Yord but I fucking bet they had issues with Yorbies pretending to be helpful just to kill them! Everyone, for two years, has been out to get them! They can't even sleep! And now they have to grind so hard or they fail. Adaine has a seemingly full time job after school basically every day because she literally can't afford to live? Fabian has taken on the most physically strenuous classes and sport one dude could and has dreams of also being a social legend because he's fucking lonely in that big house and he just wants to fill it. If anyone in the party fails or dies Riz is shit out of luck and wont ever get into a university? He so desperately wants his friends with him so he's working over time and ignoring his limits to make up for his party members not caring about the future. Fig is going through the strangest arc I've ever seen in my life? she's hard avoidant and taking three classes, so a 250% work load, because she's desperate to fill her time so she can't think about all the other work she has to do that if she ignores too long could crush her under the debt of her band from her label, or how alone she feels without her girlfriend around. Gorgug is so desperate to prove himself that he's doing four years of school work in one, trying to play catch up and also prove himself at the same time, he's taking it all so seriously but also is so fucking tired. And Kristen. Mother fucking Kristen "hey girlie" applebees. Expected to dedicate her life to a god with no direction, with the weight of failure being her gods death, while also being in school and also at your friends insistence needing to run for student body president and getting your priorities so mixed up and being completely left behind by her peers who didn't have to rework their entire world view and understanding of life in the span of a few months every few months.

The Bad Kids are in a terrible place. They're suffering. I want them to just say it out loud, to stop pretending they have it handled and are fine. I want Riz and Adaine to yell at the party to get their shit together. I want Fabian to tell someone how alone and abandoned her feels. I want Kristen to scream at Cassandra that she agrees, that it's not fair, she's just a kid, how could she be enough all on her own with no help? It sucks a god can only rely on a child, for both the god and child! They're both suffering from this arrangement! Neither is happy! I want Gorgug to beat the shit out of Porter with his inventions and rage at the same time, to make the best shit and use it in the most stunning way anyone has ever seen. I want Fig to finally get some freaking help, to have her teachers and parents reach out in a meaningful way and stop telling her to figure it out alone because clearly the pressure is too much for her to handle and she's drowning. I want someone, anyone, to look at the Bad Kids and tell them to stop. To help them. But I know it wont be that easy. I know it'll be the Rat Grinders yelling at how unfair it is the Bad kids get everything while they're on the sidelines that'll get under the Bad Kids skin and they'll yell about how awesome they are and that they didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to them and to fuck off. I know it's gonna get so much worse before it gets better. I know they'll figure it out and that it'll be a painful road there.

[poisonedprose]

₊˚✧ she said fuck me like im famous — in which ellie 'teaches' you how to play the guitar.

rockstar!ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: 0.6.k words, smutty, is this highly inaccurate? probs. do i care? no. pet names (baby, babe, filthy girl), hand kink, teasing, reader wears a skirt, temperature play?, fingering, finger sucking

masterlists - new account @pearlcigs

The hum of Ellie's fingers plucking at the strings of her beloved guitar filled the room. She was sat on the bed, various bracelets cluttering her wrist. Your eyes were locked on her hands, watching intently, focused on her veins rather than her skills. Her shirt was unbuttoned, lazily array on her shoulders, the grey of her sports bra matching the boxers peaking through the top of her pants. She looked so good and had no idea what she was doing to you. "Come sit on my lap." Or maybe she did?

"Hm?" You responded, watching as she moved the electric guitar away from her lap to make room for you to sit. "Gonna teach you how to play." She smiles devilishly. You obey her wishes, skittishly walking towards her and sitting on her lap. Truly, you had no desire to learn how to play, more than okay with watching her experienced hands do all the work. She placed the guitar on your lap, chin resting on your shoulder.

Ellie grabbed your hands, putting them in the correct positions. She guided your fingers, her touch doing everything right to your body. Yeah, she definitely knew what she was doing to you. She strummed your fingers over the strings, the vibration on your thighs faint but you were already worked up. "Ellie." You uttered, a smirk on her face as she kissed your shoulder. "Yes, baby? Somethin' wrong?" She asked in a cocky tone.

Everything about her turned you on. "Do you need help?" Ellie's tone was confident, she was getting exactly what she wanted and you both knew it. "Saw you staring at my hands." She admits, kissing from your shoulder to your neck. "They excite you or something?" She continues with her painful teasing, stroking the strings once again to let the vibration flow your your thighs. "Ellie." You whimpered, composure quickly disintegrating.

"Bet you wish I was playing with you and not the guitar, hm?" One of Ellie's hands slide down to your thigh, squeezing tightly, veins becoming more prominent. "Yes." You admitted, breathlessly. "Yeah? Like seeing my fingers? Was doin' it on purpose." She admits, she was absolutely bold. Unafraid of the empty threats you might try to scare her with from her antics.

She moves the guitar off your lap, moving it to the side for later. Cold finger tips tickling up your thigh to you panty covered cunt. "Soaking through your pants, babe." She chuckles applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to watch you squirm. "El..." You whine, hips arching off her lap slightly. "Gonna fuck you like a rockstar and then write a song about it. Everyone's gonna know what a freak you are." Her free hand fingers her way to your lips, intruding through them. You don't even wait for her command to suck on her nimble fingers.

"The lyrics'll be about how much you love my fingers. How much you love them in your mouth... in your pussy.." She teases but she was far from finished, pushing your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side. The coldness from her hands make your warm cunt flutter from the temperature difference. "Maybe I'll put your desperate moans in the background vocals? Hm? How does that sound?" She slowly strokes your clit.

You moan, proving her point that the noises she drew from you were desperate. She slides a finger into your weeping cunt, pushing her fingers further into your mouth. The thrusts both hands at the same time, finger your cunt and mouth at the same time. "Yeah, baby. Take my fingers, filthy girl."

requested / inspired by @thatgiraffefromtlou rockstar ellie makes me lose it this took forever because i couldn't figure out how to execute it - i was also debating vibrator synced to the guitar with bluetooth so lmk if i should write that

[devilmademewriteit]

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

[chatsukimi]

STREETRACER!TOJI x WEALTHY!READER ('my mother's blind in one eye and she can drift better than that') ⤷ genre: sfw, fluff ⤷ tropes: reader's bf is a btch, passengerprincess!reader, trustfund!toji, caring!toji, highschool!toji, jealous!toji ⤷ series (jjk men as athletes)

STREETRACER!TOJI who skips school to street-race. you've had an eye on him ever since testing reaction times in Physical Education class, introducing him to drift back in sophomore year. he was a natural.

STREETRACER!TOJI whose life revolves around the illegal sport, catching on so swiftly soon you buy him his first car. you tell him he gets to keep it if he can win in the races.

you're half convinced he'll call you one day to tell you your baby's on fire... literal fire. but he never does- it seems he respects the trust you put in him. and he wins on your bets, so you don't question it.

STREETRACER!TOJI who's always pawing for your colourful gambling tickets (his name purchased first) and you're always removing them from his sight: beggars can't be choosers.

whatever. he never wanted to befriend the rich kid anyways.

STREETRACER!TOJI who tells you to go away right before the competition when you come to check up on him. 'you're distracting me. where's your prissy prince?' when you look at your boyfriend in the stands, he scoffs.

STREETRACER!TOJI who narrows his eyes as your boyfriend slides into the driver's seat of the car you gave him, the car with which he won the race, and begins to drive around like a little kid. no technique whatsoever. he is suddenly reminded of a scene from the movie Tokyo Drift you once forced him to watch at the beginning of showing him cars: 'my mother's blind in one eye and she can drift better than that.'

well isn’t that the perfect descriptor for your boyfriend.

STREETRACER!TOJI who doesn't speak to you for a week after he notices a scratch on the car. he's in cold disbelief. one, that you would ever let an idiot close to a fine car like that. two, that you would trust that idiot to lead you around in a relationship.

i mean, seriously, how can a guy who parks for fifteen minutes and still crosses the line pick out what you want as a gift? how can a loser ever make you happy? he'll drive you carsick. toji's not sure how you haven't gotten so already.

STREETRACER!TOJI whose heart definitely does not flutter when he sees the dinner you’ve eft beside the vehicle after a race. you've left a note too: i know you're mad about the scratch, but congrats on the win. you drove really well. i've left a share of the cash in the centre console.

when he shows up in class the next day, he doesn't return your smile. instead, he stalks all the way up to your desk, silencing the rest of the class as he drags a chair to sit down next to you.

'i thought you didn't wanna associate with me at school?'

he shrugs. 'changed my mind.'

STREETRACER!TOJI who, when your boyfriend ditches last minute from taking you back to your countryside townhouse, shows up within ten minutes of you calling him up. he arrives. running.

you start to wonder if you should've introduced him to track and field and made a new Olympic gold medallist instead.

STREETRACER!TOJI who observes the v12 aston martin, cocking his head to the side.

you admit quietly, 'i... don't know how to drive' and he sighs, pushes you to the side, enters the driver's seat, then looks at you with an impatient stare.

'what are you waiting for? get in.'

you hastily enter the passenger seat, trying to unglue your gaze from the thickness of his arm around your steering wheel, the ease of his large stature adjusting the seat to fit, exhaling slightly when it works.

'trust fund baby,' you hear him mutter.

'hey!' you speak before you realise it. 'you're also my trust fund baby.'

his eyebrows shoot up, dark stare piercing the side of your face. what did you say? you bite your lip and prays for the seat to swallow you up. why did you say that? you feel him shift in his seat, inching closer until both his hands cage your smaller frame.

'say that again..'

STREETRACER!TOJI who drives you home all night, no breaks. you listen to music and watch the stars above the dark countryside trundling past. as the scene becomes monotonous, your eyelids slowly droops close.

toji notices, immediately speeding down by the side of the highway. he walks around the side of the car, opens the door, removes his leather jacket and gently places it over your sleeping figure. his breath almost hitches when you stir.

a tiny voice in his head yelps, whipped.

it's not even his own jacket. you bought him it as celebration for his first victory and he hasn't gone a week without it since.

STREETRACER!TOJI who carefully withdraws your phone from your pocket at the end of the trip, pressing a couple digits, raising it to his ear to leave a voicemail.

'hey,' he says, 'you're the guy who can't drive, right?' any sane person knows to never insult a guy's driving skills. toji pats the hood of the car as he speaks. guess he’s not so sane then. 'now i gotta say, i'm just looking out for you, yeah? stay away from my girl. she too expensive for you.'

STREETRACER!TOJI who dreams of a day he spoils you. a day when your bets on him come to fruition, when he can say with full certainty, 'bet on me, baby. put all your trust on me'

(extra: 'did you compare me to a car??' you listen to the voicemail toji sent to your ex. toji winces. 'had to get the point across. he can't be crashing and burning shit he didn't pay insurance for.' you cross your arms. 'and how are you sure you won't drive this thing off a cliff?' 'oh baby, cause i tokyo drift')

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this was a request and it sounded really cute. I used to watch watch F1 races as a kid and thought it'd be such a fun job to have. but then I grew up and realized I hate driving lol

➤ when MC is a professional F1 driver | the demon brothers

2.6k words | sfw | fluff & slice of life shenanigans

cw: developing relationships with the demon brothers; some angst and insecurity if you squint.

related: the dateables + mephisto edition

Lucifer is your main obstacle when you decide you want a shot at racing in this realm. You argue it’s only fair if they expect you to give up your passion and livelihood for an entire year without warning. The world of Devildom racing is dangerous and he doesn’t want (or expect) a human like you to understand that. You try to show him videos of some of your races that you have on your old phone, but he’s still skeptical of your abilities. He takes you to the local track so you can prove what you’re capable of. (His brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos and the students from Purgatory Hall show up to watch as well.) By the end of the first lap, most of them are stunned with disbelief or excited for the possibilities of living with such a talented driver. Lucifer grudgingly concedes that he underestimated you. He arranges a personal vehicle for you to use during your stay in the exchange program. He also speaks to Diavolo about your interest in continuing your racing career. The young prince agrees once he’s confident you understand the risks. 

Lucifer is your advocate and advisor at first, but over time he gradually becomes your friend. He admires your determination to make a name for yourself. He attends each race in person and pretends he’s there on official business, but it’s his own way of supporting your efforts. He’s genuinely proud of you for making such a lasting impact in the Devildom in a short amount of time. He treats you to dinner after each race and it becomes a celebratory ritual you both look forward to. He starts to crave your company when the racing season comes to an end, and he scrambles for new reasons to spend time with you. He starts asking you out for dinner—just the two of you—for no apparent reason at all. He can't explain the profound happiness that blooms in his chest when you eagerly accept.

Mammon thinks this is a fantastic opportunity. At first he assumed you were just some cute human that liked cars. But now it turns out that you actually know how to race, too? The novelty of a human racing against in the Devildom’s most competitive league is sure to draw in a bigger crowd than usual. He never bothered with betting on the races before, but your introduction to the racing league shows him the untapped potential; he can't wait to make a fortune off this! Unfortunately for him, you hear through the grapevine that he bets against you before your first race. You're annoyed and drive more aggressively than usual because of it. You already feel like you have to prove yourself, and you’re already under enough pressure without him counting on you to fail. The race finishes and you rank in the top three—it takes the Devildom sporting world by surprise. Mammon lost a fair bit of money betting against you, but he’s not angry. He admits he underestimated you and it feels like you’ve earned his respect. (He learns from his mistakes and doesn’t bet against you again.)

He’s a lot friendlier after that. He's a good engineer and likes working with his hands. When your loaner car acts up, he offers to help you with it even though you both know you can handle it yourself. He keeps you company and watches you work on it in the garage Lucifer had built. Mammon pretends he's "supervising" your work so he still has a reason to hang around. Sometimes you let him do the work for you because he looks so happy when he does. He makes a show of rolling up his sleeves and flexing his muscles before he pops the hood and leans forward to take a look at things. It's ridiculous how attractive he is when he's sweaty and covered with dirt and engine grease. 

He doesn't let anyone else drive his precious car Demonio 666 Lexura except for you. When you finally agree to his invitation to take you out on a date, he hands you the keys so you can drive it for the first time. It’s nicer and a lot faster than the car Lucifer arranged for you to use. You can tell that Mammon puts a lot of pride and care into the upkeep of his vehicle, and you’re flattered he would trust you with it when no one else has that privilege. Mammon gets a little flustered in the passenger seat because watching you drive in your date night outfit turns him on. He’s tempted to slip his hand into your lap and test how good your concentration is.

Levi doesn’t have any interest in driving outside of video games. He’s shocked at how talented you are as a racer because you’re terrible at Devil Kart. He still invites you to play games with him and it surprises him that you would waste your time with him. He's not sure how to act around you sometimes. It should be easier to interact with you the more he gets to know you. Instead, he grows even more shy and anxious and flustered all at once and he doesn't know why.

The other students at RAD start to admire you and you develop a little bit of a fan following. He gets a little jealous that you seem to bask in all the attention, but you admit to him later that a lot of your public persona is just an act. You’re scared to be yourself in the public eye, and you hate the feeling of being judged for who you are. You show him rare glimpses of the real you that no one else sees, and he realizes he likes you. He wants to be your friend, but he wants to support you too. You don't have to pretend to be someone else when you're with him. He's not a fan of sports, but in his eyes, you slowly become as important as one of his beloved idols.

He hears rumors around RAD that some of the students want to start a fan club for you. It irritates him that he didn’t think of that first, but he sets up a fan site that gets a lot of traction. His username is different from the ones he uses on other sites so it’s harder to trace it back to him. He basically runs the largest Devildom site dedicated to you and your career and its his worst-kept secret. Another fan of yours designs cute logos based off your Devildom racing nickname, and it opens the floodgates to a huge line of fan-made merchandise. Levi orders one of everything, and he knows all of his brothers have bought some that merch too. He squirms in his seat when you mention how sweet the fan club president is. You drop subtle hints that you know it’s him, but he’s too nervous to admit it. One day you ask him out to see a new movie he’s interested in, and all he can do is nod and blush furiously when you call it a date. (He doesn't even realize he's wearing one of your fan club t-shirts until after you leave his room with a bounce in your step.)

Satan didn't have much of an interest in cars or racing before you arrived. Once you break into the Devildom racing scene, he takes it upon himself to learn more about it. (Watching awkwardly from the sidelines while Lucifer his brothers fawn over you has nothing to do with his sudden interest.) He picks up the basics of car maintenance easily enough, but his main focus is the politics behind the racing industry and how the teams function. He wants you to succeed and that means finding a manager that's dedicated and organized and has a keen eye for detail. He observes how the other teams operate and quickly identifies the weak spots in their leadership. He's certain that he can do so much better than them and he’s relieved when you agree to give him a chance. 

You spend a lot of evenings working together. You give him detailed breakdowns about your career in the human world and how things operated. He makes careful notes of the things you liked and didn't like, the people on your team that helped you and the ones you butted heads with. He knows some of his brothers are suitable for roles on your team, and he's extremely critical when he begins filling the other vacant positions. He goes to the track when you practice and you appreciate his company. He takes on most of the behind-the-scenes responsibility for you so you can focus on other things, like not crashing and staying alive. He has zero tolerance for demons that badmouth you when he's in earshot, and it takes all his self-control not to tear them to pieces. Don't they realize how hard you work? Sometimes he gets frustrated when he has to control his temper, but you pat his arm and hug him or kiss his cheek for his efforts. You remind him that you appreciate him sticking up for you like no one else does; the anger inside him deflates and is replaced with something even more potent.

Asmo can’t remember the last time he felt so inspired. Here you are, the most precious little human he’s ever laid eyes on, and you’re a professional racer? He's already planning a new fashion line that’ll capitalize on the hype of your budding career—he knows the trends of the Devildom and anticipates your success before anyone else does. Your first race generates so much excitement that he sets up a corporate Devilgram account for you too. The first wave of fans start following you within minutes of your surprising race debut. Asmo goes to the track and takes pictures of you talking to Satan and the others on your team about devil-knows-what. He manages to snap a particularly fetching photo of you leaning against your car. He knows you were just pointing out something in the car’s flimsy paint job, but it makes you look intriguing and formidable and a bit sexy, too. (You roll your eyes when you see the photo on Devilgram later, but his suggestive caption under the photo about the Devildom’s hottest new ride leaves you feeling flustered the rest of the day.)

Things move very quickly once the rest of the Devildom media catches up to Asmo’s insight into your popularity. All the magazines want to interview you, and even Mephistopheles requests an interview on behalf of the RAD newspaper club. The Devilgram account Asmo runs for you skyrockets in popularity with each photo he posts. Satan offers Asmo a role on your team as your official agent and social marketing strategist. He asks Satan for some other responsibilities too: he arranges your sponsorships and endorsements, and he designs your race attire and car wrap. He’s not sure anyone else in the Devildom can capture your talent or charming good looks the way he can.

You and Asmo have some very long, heated discussions about managing your celebrity status and your personal boundaries. You maintain veto power over any interviews or photo-ops you’re uncomfortable with. You also get final approval on any licensed fashion or merchandise. (The little fan club of yours has superior merch anyway and everyone knows it.) Asmo enjoys the challenge of designing your race suit too, and he’s so proud when he shows it to you. It incorporates comfort, style and function in a way that's flattering without being provocative. There are little symbols embroidered along the sleeve cuffs and he explains what they are when your brow furrows in confusion. “Oh! The thread is imbued with protective magic. The sigils will help protect you in case you get into an accident.” He mistakes the shocked look on your face for disappointment and backtracks quickly. “I promise, it’s not cheating! Demons are more durable so most of them don’t bother using these, but I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt—“ He stumbles a little when you wrap your arms around him and mumble thank-yous into his chest. He kisses the top of your head and hugs you back just as tightly while he murmurs about how special you are.

Both of the twins end up working in the pit as part of your crew.

Beel is an obvious candidate for that physically demanding job because of his speed and strength. He didn’t know much about racing before you came to the Devildom. Your passion and his brothers’ involvement is contagious and he can’t resist getting involved too. He learns about the mechanics of caring for cars and how important the pit stop crew is to your success. He bonds with his family because they're all supporting you in their own ways. Working with his hands helps distract him from his hunger and becomes an unexpected perk of the job. You’re considerate and still make sure he has access to snacks throughout the race if he wants them, though. He can’t be there for all of your races because of scheduling conflicts with his other club obligations, but that’s when he realizes how much he likes spending time with you. He’s flattered that you find time in your busy schedule to go to his games to cheer him on too. You agree to go with him for spontaneous lunch dates when you both have time off. He takes you to new restaurants and watching your reactions to the different types of food the Devildom offers. He worries that you don't eat enough when you're so busy, and he's much happier knowing that you're well-fed.

Belphie works in the pit but his responsibilities are a bit more abstract. He volunteers for that role because his twin is there. All he needs to do is help keep Beel’s hunger-related distractions to a minimum and stay out of the way while the other demons do their jobs. He has a nice little corner where he can watch the race if he wants, but he spends most of the time sleeping. He wakes up when he senses your car is pulling up. Each time you drive away, you wave in his direction like you know he wakes up just to see you for a few brief moments.

He doesn’t like it when your fans recognize you on the street. They ask you for autographs or selfies and it’s annoying. He’s proud of you, but he hates having to compete for your attention. He makes snarky comments about your fan club but he still buys your merch—the t-shirts are soft and nice for sleeping in. He drags you to the bed in the attic for naps because he senses how exhausted you are. He makes sure that you’re not sacrificing relaxation or sleep for the sake of your career. Sometimes you dream, but it's not the nightmares that bother you. You dream about returning to the human world and living a normal life without obligations to your fans and your manager and your sponsorships. You crave a life that's completely your own again. Those dreams disturb you the most because sometimes you wish you could go back to being that person before you started on this path. Belphie listens quietly when you share your feelings in a moment of sleepy vulnerability. He doesn't judge you or laugh at you. He understands why you’d want to give up a lucrative career when it leaves you feeling weary from self-doubt and regret. Maybe one day, sooner rather than later, he can help convince you that it's okay to retire and pursue a different dream instead.

[eyesofshinigami]

Alley Oop

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, supportive Wayne, sports talk, Eddie loves Steve

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is secretly studying up on the nerd shit he's into" (I took it in a slightly different direction, but it was fun!)

WC: 709

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 11

Eddie thought he would get away with it. That no one would know. It could just be his little secret and then he could pull it out and impress Steve and show him that he does listen when he talks.

“What are you doing, boy?” 

Eddie nearly pops out of his skin, throwing the magazine over his shoulder and nearly braining Wayne with it. “What?! Nothing! I’m doing nothing!” he cries out, turning around and trying to act casual.

Wayne raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you acting like I just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar?” He folds his arms and pins Eddie with a look. “You know, I already told you I’m okay with you and Steve and what you get up to, as long as you-”

“Oh my god, no, Wayne. It’s nothing like that,” Eddie groans, letting his head thunk against the table. His uncle thinking he was looking at porn in the middle of their kitchen is almost worse than what he was looking at. “I’mreadingaboutsports,” he grits out quickly.

“What was that now?”

Eddie sighs. “I said… I’m reading about sports. Picked up some magazines from Melvald’s.”

Wayne looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “I don’t think I’m following, son.” 

“I’m trying to learn more about sports. You know. For Steve.” Eddie talked a lot of shit about sports in high school, knows deep down it’s not really his thing, but he can’t deny how much he loves how Steve gets when he gets to share his passion for them. For all that Steve talks about how dumb he is, the guy has a brain like a steel trap when it comes to statistics, plays, maneuvers, and players. He can recall how his favorite sports team fared ten years ago, he can calculate a batting average off the top of his head, and he can predict a play that a coach is going to call before the coach does. It’s frankly pretty impressive. How could Eddie not want to indulge that? “He’s been playing in my new campaign and having a lot of fun, so… I thought I would do the same for him?”

Wayne’s lips quirk up in a smile. “You asking me or telling me?” Eddie lets out a noise like a deflating balloon, which makes Wayne laugh. “I’m only picking at ya, boy. But I think that’s sweet. And I know he’ll appreciate it. You ought to see the way that he looks at ya when we’re all watching the game together.” 

That makes Eddie feel a little gooey inside. It makes him happy to know that other people see how happy they make each other. “Yeah. I want to like… understand what he’s talking about. It’s a lot more complicated than getting a ball in a laundry basket.” He chuckles, remembering the rant he sent Steve on when he said that. He’d been teasing, but when he thought back, he might have felt the same if Steve made a comment like that about one of his monsters or a plot he’d come up with. 

See? He’s growing as a person!

“Even if you don’t like it, it’ll mean something to him that you’re trying.” Wayne reaches out and ruffles Eddie’s hair, the same way he’s done since Eddie was a kid. “Y’all are good for each other. I was skeptical about that boy when you first brought him ‘round, but I see it now. You keep taking care of each other like this and it’ll work out just fine.” Wayne bends down and picks up the magazine from the floor and hands it back to Eddie. “Better get to studying. The Pacers game is next weekend and I bet Steve would appreciate a trip down to Indianapolis…”

With a wink, Wayne leaves him be. 

The wheels in Eddie’s head are already turning, thinking about how he can rope Robin into helping him get tickets. Maybe they can make a weekend of it, rent a hotel room and go out to dinner and just be with each other for a while.

Yeah, that sounds excellent. Eddie will get right on that, right after he learns the difference between a bank shot and a free throw.

[queenofallimagines]

Needy Embarrassing sex with Sae

A/N: Daydreaming about this mans dick what else is new🙄😒 imagining he’s in charge of helping the new manager get accustomed to the team and he can’t help but let his eyes wander

EDIT: MDNI but here’s an audio reference for y’all who not picking up what I’m putting down💕 twitter link 🥰

Sae:

- this one gave me butterflies Ngl

- Bc I can hear his voice

- Like I said he’s a lot more Tame than Rin so he does have an occasional soft spot

- ESPECIALLY for cute little things who can’t even remember the name of half the teammates they’re managing

- Since he’s the best of the best coach obviously tells him to whip you into shape

- “Try not to scare this one off”

- “Not my fault you signed off on someone who can’t even fill a water bottle”

- The coach is praying for you fr

- Surprised that you take the initiative to approach him first to ask him about things

- “I mean you ARE the star midfielder right? You probably have a good read on everyone and how they work so asking you would be my best bet.”

- Okay he loves a go getter

- Pleasantly surprised that you’re asking good questions

- “I’m trying to get as much info as possible so this becomes second nature.”

- Gives you a through rundown of the schedule and what time they take breaks

- Obviously he’s a diva so he’s the most demanding

- Giving you a tour around the facilities

- “That’s the locker room. Wouldn’t recommend walking by here between the hours of 4:45 and 6pm”

- “…..I’ll keep that in mind.”

- Finds showing you around not annoying

- Once you get to the dorms he’s listing off everyone’s sleeping habits

- “He won’t wake up before 8:30 am so if you can manage that congratulations”

- He’s been eyeing you this entire time but he can’t help it!

- He’s a hard worker so anyone putting in honest effort into anything especially when it pertains to him catches his eye

- Not his fault you look good taking notes and analyzing your surroundings

- Stands back when showing you the rooms so he can sneak a peek at your ass

- You feel him glaring holes into your back but it’s not for the reason you think

- He’s infamous for being kinda a spoiled brat but he produces amazing results so who’s gunna say something to him??

- Lmao not I said the cat

- You don’t even peep his heated gaze until you bump into him walking backwards

- Turning around quickly to apologize before he can catch an attitude his eyes are quite literally undressing you

- This man’s whole life is sports so ofc he’s gunna find a track suit sexy

- Will play it off like he’s not embarrassed for getting caught

- “Cat got your tongue? Don’t tell me you’re just now getting star struck.”

- Mans is giggly asf in the back of his head

- He fr ain’t seen someone catch his eye like this in a while

- Logically getting his dick wet right now would be nice

- But also with the new manager on the first day??

- weighing the options in his head and the way you look up at him and go

- “What about you? What do you want from your manager?”

- He threw caution to the wind

- Everyone else is busy with practice and he can make up some lukewarm ass excuse as to why you guys took so long

- Testing the waters by letting one of his hands rest on your lower back

- Mamma ain’t raise no bitch so he’s relieved you immediately return his energy

- He’s not wasting anymore time and pulls you in for a kiss

- Mans is STARVED for intimacy like this so he’s definitely a little more vulnerable

- Like that’s definitely the reason your lips fit so well against his

- Why your body curves into his so nicely when he carries you to his bed

- Yeah that’s definitely it

- Feeling himself get embarrassingly hard so fast he’s feverishly tugging at your sweatpants

- “Let me make you feel good, there you go.”

- The quiver in his voice isn’t missed

- You have a once in a lifetime free pass to tease THE Itoshi Sae

- PLEASE TAKE IT!!

- Grind your hips into his while tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck and he will let out some of the sweetest moans for you

- It really has been a while the way his hands are shaking to pull off his own clothes

- Pull him down to kiss you, distracting him from his current task

- He’s weak for being pushed around a little

- Throws your legs over his shoulders without warning

- The way he’s got your legs spread wide for him and he’s eye level with what he wants has you avoiding eye contact at all costs

- Moving his head between your thighs he’s damn near moaning with his mouth all over you

- Holds your trembling thighs still right beside his ears as he shamelessly moans into your cunt

- “You taste so fucking good, gonna use my fingers.”

- This man has not had pussy I’m so long he’s acting FOOLISH

- If he even took a moment to BREATHE he would be giving you heart eyes

- The way he’s singing praises while sucking your clit and angling his fingers to hit your g-spot all at once

- Man is filthy, and he’s not at all ashamed like he’s grown

- Spitting on your clit before he starts rubbing it with his thumb

- While his mouth and other hand are busy getting as much of your taste as possible

- The type of man to need to lay a towel down no matter WHAT your doing in bed

- Very “wait I didn’t shave” “did I ask all that??” Energy imo

- He’s gunna have you cumming on his sheets anyway so what do all that matter??

- Looks up and sees you covering your face trying to keep your noises down and that shit don’t fly w him

- “Keep covering your face and I’ll tie your hands to the bed.”

- And he’s dead serious too

- Comes up to kiss you not caring if you taste yourself because he wants to feel your lips THAT bad

- The way he refuses to break eye contact only serves to make you more shy because they’re glossed over with desire

- making sure you can’t squirm away from him has he has you cumming on his fingers

- “Feel good?… Yeah? like how i stretch you out? Let me feel you come undone then.”

- Whew IK he talks you through it😫

- “Keep your eyes open.”

- “S-sae I can’t-“

- “You can and you will, pretty thing.”

- Feels your nails digging into your wrists as you clench around his fingers

- “Ah. Almost there? Make a mess f’me.”

- Almost came in his pants watching your eyes roll back

- Since he IS shameless he’ll lick his fingers clean as you’re forced to watch him

- Dramatic as fuck the way he groans about you tasting good

- “Let me watch you play with it.”

- Watching your small fingers curl inside your pussy as you mewl in embarrassment almost has him intoxicated

- Throwing his damn clothes anywhere

- He’s not too stupid to not tease you a little tho

- “If you’re that shy turn around and hide your face in the pillows”

- Nothing is EVER that easy with him

- Cursing and grunting under his breath as he slips it in

- “How about you set the pace. Fuck me how you want”

- Chuckles as you hide your face in the pillows while fucking back into him

- He knows how to put on a performance before all else too

- “Use my cock cmon, make me proud and fuck me good pretty.”

- He’s moaning like a whole ass pornstar head thrown back and everything

- Trying not to move because this is your “punishment” for being all shy

- Can’t help it when you look back at him face clearly burning and whimpering at how embarrassing this is

- Praising you which makes it even MORE embarrassing

- “There you go” “fuck me till I come cmon” “you can do it”

- Like bro SHUT UP😭

- However the way you’re squeezing him tells otherwise

- When he feels you come around him he grits his teeth and says a small sorry in his head before he shoves your face into the mattress

- Feeling you wrapped about him had him fr loosing his mind

- Might skip all of practice just to keep doing this

- “Mhm, you can cum on this dick.. i wanna see it messy."

- Stretches out his words and talks all slow

- He is an Itoshi though unfortunately

- “W-wait Sae, 's too much, you're too fucking big."

- Has you seeing stars like never before

- Clit pincher🗣️ hair puller🗣️

- “Sayin’ it's too much but whining for more? Can't make up your then mind I’ll decide for you.”

- Pushing you deeper into the mattress with his whole body weight

- Grunts and moans RIGHT into your damn ear because you’re squeezing him so might tighter shouldn’t he tell you how good you’re making him feel?

- “At least your cunt knows what she wants, pretty pussy sucking me in and won’t let go. Want me to fill you up that damn bad?”

- Failed to take into account that all he wants to do now is lay down and spoon you while you cockwarm him

- But alas this is the shared dorm and NOT his apartment

- And he has no clue how long y’all been at it

- Helps you clean up while wobbling slightly

- Makes sure there’s no trace of what yall did but the sheets to his bed being in the washing machine

- Nobody thinks nothing bc he’s an upper class brat who needs things to be pristine

- Some people get suspicious when it happens like 5 times a week though….

- He does all his laundry separate so there’s no one to see how your underwear accidentally falls out the pocket of one of his jackets

- Everyone congratulates you on somehow going above and beyond so well that The Sae Itoshi acknowledged you!

- He didn’t think after the first time that looking at your ass you’d be enough to make him embarrassingly hard in public but oh well

- “Continue in my absence I’m going to check if the manager has the new schedule.”

- A few people see red scratches peeking out his jersey but meh probably just the imagination

[nexusnyx]

Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!

Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.

(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)

Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..

He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.

Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.

His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.

It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.

Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."

Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.

Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.

Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...

He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.

Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.

Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.

Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."

On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.

He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.

Joel's a tease.

He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.

Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.

His sense of humor is... peculiar.

("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")

You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.

Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.

Reciprocity's big on him.

Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.

Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.

Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.

Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.

Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.

Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.

One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.

(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)

[mitsies]

-;. friendly competition ; michael kaiser > kaiser thinks he could treat you better.

outside of his sport, michael kaiser doesn't imagine himself as too self-centered- although, he can't help but think that he'd be a really, really good boyfriend to you.

he'd treat you right, the way you deserve to be treated. he thinks about it a little too much- about how he'd put his hands on your waist when he kissed you, about the gifts he'd buy you- he's considered it all.

during his stay in japan, his lack of knowledge of the language has proved to be incredibly inconvenient. so he was matched with you, a local student with a passion for teaching, to tutor him in japanese.

it's a little embarrassing, frankly, to be so infatuated with someone who doesn't even spare him a second glance, but he thinks he makes it work. and he wholeheartedly believes that you would work, too, together as a couple. you're gorgeous, and he tells you this. he means it every time.

kaiser has never lied to you, not once, especially not when he says you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen. you never seem to buy it, though, always brushing him off without a second thought.

and he might be impatient, kind-of-shitty, insufferable, and a little too egotistical, but he thinks that he really could have a chance. you look at him starry-eyed and he's grown familiar with how your skin burns under his too-long-to-be-friendly touches.

he thinks he has a chance, that is, until he sees your instagram story one day after practice. he's in the locker rooms with alexis ness, chest still heavy and heaving and towel still around his barren neck when he clicks the notification stating that you've posted on your story.

and boy, was that a mistake, because now kaiser is positively seething, gripping his phone so hard it might smash into glass shards within his grasp.

because there you are, giggling and happy like a radiant flower, arms wrapped around someone else's neck. their face is cut off, and he can't make out who they are but it doesn't really matter because they don't deserve you.

you're too pretty to be hanging off someone else's arm. you're too funny to be laughing at anyone else's jokes. you're too good to be with anyone but him.

kaiser glares at his phone, ignoring ness' questions of 'what's wrong,' and 'why do you look like you're going to pass out.' he opts to shove the phone in his friend's face with a belligerent scowl, pressing his hand to the bridge of his nose.

ness 'ohs' and his face contorts as he tries to concoct a reasonable explanation as to why he shouldn't be too disheartened. "maybe.. it's not, like, a thing yet?"

and kaiser latches onto that. yes, ness is right- if you were with someone else, he'd know! you were friends with isagi, and isagi was... acquainted with kaiser. he'd be aware if you were dating someone.

and it's not a good trait to have- he's aware, fully aware- but kaiser doesn't know what he'd do if someone else had you.

so, he shoots you a text.

+

kaiser hey u doing anything tn?

you uhh no i think i should be free! what's up?

kaiser just wanted to see u wanna come to the library?

+

the library a train ride away from the blue lock facilities is the one he typically meets you at. it feels sacred now, some kind of holy ground, because he thinks of you when he thinks of it.

+

you oh how romantic bet u take all the girls there

kaiser just the ones i really like does 4 work? ill bring that drink you like

you how thoughtful

kaiser only for you

you see u at 4 then!

+

he shouldn't feel so smug but he can't help it as he looks up the next train to leave.

when he shows up to the library, you're already there in your usual spot. it's mostly empty save for the occasional university student passed out over their computer.

you twirl a pencil around with your fingers, humming something softly. the lights are mostly dimmed, and your figure is hardly illuminated in the ambiance of your computer's screen.

you have a familiar notebook, and it dawns on kaiser that you don't realize he's not here to study today.

"kaiser," you greet him with a warm smile as he slides into the seat next to yours. "hey. how've you been?"

"better now that i've seen you." he knows he's stupid, he knows he's cheesy, he knows he's embarrassing, but you laugh so he doesn't really care.

"smooth. you need to be put on a leash or something."

he laughs softly before relaxing his arms across the table, tipping his head to look up at you. he studies your lips and thinks about how pretty they'd look against his.

you start going on about something he can't really understand, and he just sits and stares a little until you gauge that he's not listening.

"am i going to fast?" you worry even faster, and kaiser knows exactly what he's doing when he sits up straight and reaches his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. his hand finds its way to your chin in a way that it's fluttered before but never stayed.

"no, you're fine," he smiles, "more than fine."

your breath is hot on his thumb and he pulls it away, relishing the bashful expression on your face.

"let's.. start from here."

he's again only half listening, this time clocking how you fumble over your own words like a baby deer learning to walk. he notices the furtive glances that you try to sneak over at him when you think he's not paying attention.

when you take a sip of the drink that kaiser's brought, an imprint of lipgloss is left stamped on the straw, and kaiser can't help himself because he thinks that shade might look pretty cute on him, too.

"you know," he says as you're rewinding and preparing yourself to speak again, "you look really nice today."

he means it, too. the sweater you wear matches your eyes and your hair is mussed in a way that makes you look so welcoming. he wants to touch your hair, so he does.

you purse your lips. "thank you."

"i mean it."

"oh. thanks."

his brows furrow. "you don't believe me."

your nose crinkles. "i do!"

"you don't."

you roll your eyes and prop your head up with your hands, elbows on your desk. "this conversation feels incredibly pointless."

his hand is on your knee and you try not to trip over your words. he smiles, though, and you know he's seen through your facade.

"i'm getting to the point. just be patient."

"hurry up so i can keep being smarter than you." you wave the pen you're holding in his face and he snags it with his free hand, dropping it on the table.

"you're making me want to take longer, y'know," kaiser laughs. you faux-scowl. "and you can't really say you're being smarter than me when you still haven't noticed."

a heat scalds your face. you open your mouth to ask 'what' but you already know, and kaiser's lips crash against yours. it's graceless, your kiss, all teeth, but he smiles when you kiss him back. when he pulls away for a breath, his lips are tinged the same color as yours.

you blink. "what?"

and kaiser laughs. a real, happy laugh, the one you're so familiar with. it makes your heart thunder in your chest like a bird fighting its cage.

"let me do that all the time," he says. he's not sure he can manage to say what he means, to put the words 'i like you' out into the world but he thinks you get the gist of it because you're hot-faced and dizzy as you hover close to him again.

"i didn't think you wanted to."

kaiser narrows his eyes. "i've been flirting with you since i met you."

"you're kind of.. just like that."

"serious?"

"yeah. kinda."

"shit."

"mhm."

"at least it worked."

you smack his shoulder gently and he lets his weight drop into your side. his body fits against yours like it was made for you.

"what made you decide to tell me now?"

and kaiser stills. he's a little embarrassed. you catch on to his silence though, and your eyes widen: "no way. wait."

rushing to open your phone, you pull up your instagram account. "my story?"

"of course not. who do you think i am?"

and it's your turn to laugh. "kaiser, that's my sibling."

"oh."

"'oh.' yeah."

"it's not entirely my fault-"

"give me a break," you sigh like you hate him but there's a smile on your face. "you owe me another tea."

[becca-e-barnes]

do you have any pornstar dbf!bucky thots👀

The Video

I've had this thought in my head all damn day and I just needed to write it. I'll link this piece on both my Dad's Best Friend!Bucky master list and the Pornstar!Bucky master list because I don't want to choose.

Consider this the piece I wrote to celebrate my birthday today 💗 here’s to 23 with you lovely folks! 🥂

Pairing: Pornstar! Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You find out what your father’s best friend does for work.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s, Bucky is in his late 40’s), vaginal fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, praise kink, mentions of rough pornography, dirty talk, pet names, degradation

Minors, do not interact

Avoiding Bucky had never been your plan, purely because it would’ve been a fucking stupid one.  Realistically, it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid someone who probably spent more time at your house than they did their own.  When he wasn’t at ‘work’, your father’s friend seemed to spend his time at your house, mowing the lawn or polishing your mom’s car or watching some pointless sports game with your dad.

You’d never really questioned what Bucky got up to for work.  You imagined growing up that he must’ve practiced a trade since he was always the one your father called to fix the kitchen sink when it sprung a leak or tinker with the garage door when it became difficult to pull down.

Now that you were fully clued in however, it all made painful sense why Bucky had been so evasive when you had come right out and asked him what he did for work the year before you graduated from college.

“What do you think I do, sweetheart?”  He had asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his soft, pink lips.

“I have no idea, Buck!  You seem to have as much free time as you like, I just don’t understand how you pay the bills.”  You had mused, sitting in your own garage on a work bench, swinging your legs in front of you, secretly hoping that Bucky would notice just how cute and tiny those shorts you were wearing are.  Unfortunately for you, he didn’t look up from under the bonnet of your dad’s jeep.

“I guess you could say I’m self-employed, angel.  I pick and choose the jobs I want.  I have plenty of offers.”  He tried to keep it as non-descript as possible, dodging the question rather than lying about it.

“I bet you do, you seem good with your hands.”  He could tell by the genuine innocence in your voice that you truly had no idea.  You weren’t leading him to answer one way or another.

He huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the rag beside him, wiping the oil from his hands, muddying the white cloth with the dark residue.  “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.”

It all made perfect sense now though, scrolling through picture after picture on your phone.  Every drag of your fingertip brought a fresh wave of video thumbnails, each somehow more obscene than the last.  The titles certainly weren’t much better.  

Pictures of beautiful young women flooded your screen.  Some had their makeup thoroughly ruined, mascara tracked down their cheeks and a fucked-out look in their eyes.  Some were on their knees, their hair grabbed into a rough ponytail while they rested the tip of a cock on their tongue.  Some were bent over, evidently ‘trapped’ under their bed with their ass in the air. 

Curiosity got the better of you, after ignoring a warning from your brain that this might be an invasion of Bucky’s privacy.  It was all posted on the internet after all, it’s not like he could keep it a secret forever.  

One video caught your eye, titled ‘James Barnes fucks tight brunette, HUGE cumshot’.  The crude objectification made you wince a little but the short snippet of video that the thumbnail provided you with seemed a little bit gentler than the rest.

Skipping the first few minutes helped you feel like you weren’t too invested.  This was research.  Plain and simple nosiness.  You had no intention of watching this for any purpose other than to see whether Bucky Barnes had perfected his craft or not.

“Shit, that’s it.  So fuckin’ pretty like this.”  The voice from your phone was familiar but so much lower than you’d ever heard it before; so deep, you could only have described it as a growl.

The girl whimpered, almost pathetically.  You couldn’t blame her.  Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination and judging by the reaction of the woman he was buried inside, he managed to hit all the spots he needed to.

You’d heard fake moans before.  Hell, you’d made plenty of them yourself.  Enough to know that the woman you were watching wasn’t orchestrating hers for the benefit of the camera.  No, those were real.  Right down to the trembling thighs either side of Bucky’s narrow hips.

“You have no idea how perfect you feel.  Tight and wet and warm.  You take me so fuckin’ well.”  You watched as he slid inside her, painfully slowly.  Admittedly, her body did take him well, letting him sink in until he had nothing left to give.  This poor woman was already looking somewhat blissed out, begging him to fuck her but that’s when you skipped forward to about a minute before the end.  That same woman was now clawing at his muscular back, whimpering and sobbing delightfully while Bucky pounded into her.  He wasn’t holding back in the slightest, letting the same filth tumble from his lips.

“Oh baby, you sound like you can’t take any more.  Are you done?”  He was so condescending, it made your gut tighten with lust, a dull throb settling between your legs but the woman only shook her head.

“Good girl.  God, ’m so close.  You’ll never get enough, will you?  Just a needy fucking slut for me.  Gonna have you all cock obsessed.  Bet you’ll think of me every time you touch that pretty pussy of yours from now on.  You’ll be begging to see me again.”  Bucky sounded wrecked, finishing his sentence with a drawn out, low groan.  Within a couple of seconds, he had pulled out, splashing his seed all over the woman’s tummy, pearlescent spend rolling down her sides and onto the sheets while some pooled on her heaving chest.

Over the next few days, you tried desperately to get what you had seen out of your head.  You tried hard, you really did.  Perhaps it didn’t help that late at night, you found yourself going back to watch more.  Perhaps it also didn’t help that you found your hand drifting under your panties as you watched, taking care of that familiar throb that seemed to turn into an ache when you watched for too long without touching yourself.

Dodging Bucky was simple enough but you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever.  Hiding in your room couldn’t become a hobby just because you found out your father’s best friend, the older man you had been so innocently crushing on, was a porn star.

The first time you bumped into him though, it was game over.  He could tell just from the way you looked at him that something was up, or rather, the way you couldn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”  He asked, watching you make yourself look busy in the cereal cupboard late one afternoon after he had walked into your kitchen.  You saw him coming and very obviously tried find any excuse that meant you wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I’m fine, looking for cereal.”  You replied, your head almost buried in the cupboard.

“Well, I hope you find it.  If you can’t see it from there, you’ve got a problem.  I bet your nose is practically touching the box, you’re so deep in there.”  He sounded too damn amused and it only made you more embarrassed.  This really was the last thing you needed.  “Why are you avoiding me, honey?”

There it was.  You were called out.

“I’m not!”  You tried to sound sincere but you weren’t awfully successful; you knew even as you were saying the words that it wasn’t going to fly.

“Mhm, and the fact you saw me coming has nothing to do with how you’re buried shoulder deep in the cereal cupboard?  Don’t think I’m stupid.  I know you’re avoiding me.”  In hindsight, you maybe could’ve handled that a little bit better but now here you were, pulling yourself back out and forcing some painfully awkward eye contact.

“I’ve seen the videos.”  You mumbled, looking away and making yourself busy with your nails.

“Okay.”  He dragged the word out a little, slowing it down and only adding to it’s gravity.  “And?  You’re an adult.  You know what porn is.  Things don’t need to be weird but if you’re uncomfortable having me around, I can leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to, I don’t have a problem with it.  It’s all just very… Rough?”  You weren’t really sure this was a conversation you wanted to be having, shame burning in the pit of your stomach because clearly you’d just admitted to watching more than a video or two.

He paused for a second, nodding his head, the couple of light grey hairs at the crown of his head glinting in the light.  “You’re right, sweetheart.  It's a little rough at times.  That’s not my preference, that’s the script I’m given.”

That made sense and somehow settled you just a little.  “So you just stick to the script?”  You quiz, holding eye contact with him again for a few seconds before it got too intense.

“For the most part.  It doesn’t tell me what to say, that’s all up to me.  It just gives me direction.  It’s a running order of the scenes we’ve agreed to shoot.  Most of those videos certainly aren’t a representation of how I would want to fuck if I got the choice.”  His lips were curled in a soft smile, watching you lap this all up.

“A-and how would you want to fuck if you got to choose?”  You couldn’t quite believe you’d said it but apparently you did because the question hung in the air longer than you might have wanted it to.

“Well sweetheart, that depends.  I’d treat a pretty little thing like you a bit differently.  I’d have to be slow with you.  Really ease you into it.  I bet I’d have to spend a lot of time working you up to take me.  I think I’d start by giving you my tongue until I can slip a finger into you.  Then a second finger.  Maybe a third if I think you can manage it.”  He could see the effect this was having on you.  You’d wanted to imagine it while you’d watched his videos but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into the fantasy.  Now he was dragging you into it.

“Then I’d put you on your hands and knees.  I’d tell you to rub yourself while I press inside you, so slow you’ll be begging me to give you all of me.  And when you’re at that point, ruined and desperate for more, I’ll fuck you nice and slow.  I’ll have you just as addicted as those other girls but with a kinder pleasure.  I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how badly I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of your skin I can.  I’d tell you how gorgeous you look when you cum and how it’s better than I ever imagined.”

God, this was something close to a dream come true.  “I-I’d like that.  That sounds… Nice.”  Words were really failing you, hoping this was a genuine offer and not just some hypothetical situation that would never play out.

“It does sound nice.”  Bucky huffed out a laugh.  “It sounds real fucking nice.  I shouldn’t want my best friend’s daughter cumming around me.  I know I shouldn’t.  I know I think about it far too often but nothing gets me off the way you do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an embarrassing arousal throbbing its way around your body, settling in the pit of your stomach.  Heat blossomed in your chest, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t some sick joke.  

“I want that.  But I don’t want you to be too gentle.  I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck.  Not what you think I need.”  Your confidence almost caught him off guard and he didn’t expect to find it as sexy as he did.

“God, you’re a tease.”  He muttered under his breath, crossing the short space between you both to crash your lips against his.  You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the difference in size almost making you shudder because you’d never felt this small against a partner.

His lips were soft, his hands wandering seemingly everywhere at once and it was so much to take in.  Fuck, it was perfect.  Intense and hungry but not overwhelming.

“Bed, Buck.”  You pant between fervent kisses before he’s grabbed you by the back of the thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to your room. 

You both had your clothes stripped off in a frenzy, not giving much thought to anything other than the way your lips slotted together.  Your bottom lip felt perfectly at home between his teeth, the slight pain of his bite only making you moan.

“You’re such a good girl.”  He whispers, tugging your panties off and groaning when he realises how slick they are already.  “Fuck, I should’ve known how bad you’d need this.  It’s always the ones you least expect.”

His breath feels so hot on your neck, littering the skin with kisses and gentle nibbles, panting tiny groans against you while his fingers slide over your core.

You’re wet and messy, aching with a need you didn’t know you were capable of.  “Oh sweetheart, I could slip right into you.  You’re soaking wet for me.  God, you’re a dream.”

“Buck, please.  I want your tongue later.  P-please just fuck me first.”  You could hardly manage a conhesive thought with the way his fingertips played with your body ever so gently, alternating between rubbing little circles on your clit and teasing your hole with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in just to the first knuckle.

“This is wrong, sweetheart.  So fucking wrong.  I shouldn’t get this fuckin’ excited hearing you beg for my dick but it’s all I’ve wanted for months.”  His voice is just as low as you heard in those videos, dripping with arousal.

“The only thing ‘wrong’ here is the fact you’re not inside me yet.”  You giggle quietly, rolling over and presenting your ass to him, exactly how he had described earlier.  

Whatever self-control he had was gone.  Long gone.  The sight of you offering your slick, hot core was more than enough to ruin him but the way you watched him over your shoulder with an excited smile almost had him trembling with need.

“This is wrong.”  He whispered, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, grunting at the feeling of the wet heat.

“So wrong.”  You repeated quietly.  “S-so fucking wrong.  We shouldn’t be doing this.”  You were breathless already, pressing yourself back until his tip had just slipped inside you.  “We shouldn’t need this as badly as we do.”

Bucky’s groan was beautiful, watching as you shifted yourself back to allow the rest of his length to slide slowly into you.

“You know damn well what you’re doing to me.”  He sighed, looking away from the sight of his thick length gliding home.  “Play with yourself.  I won’t last long this time sweetheart but trust me, I’ve got all night with you.”  

You’d never seen him this wrecked so early on in any of his videos so you did as you were told, letting two fingers circle your clit the way you often did when you watched him slide into those other women.  

You heard him take a deep breath, pulling back out as far as possible without slipping out before pressing back in again, dragging a soft groan from both of you.  This was everything you’d both longed for and more.

His huge hands squeezed the cheeks of your ass, admiring the how soft and plush it felt under his touch, dragging himself back out only to press back in, earning another groan.

You could’ve taken this forever, enjoying the way his tip nudged that delicate spot inside you while your fingers worked exactly how you like them to.  This was bliss in its truest form.  This was the passion you had craved, the gentle touches and soft praises but accompanied by an all-consuming pleasure.

“Faster Bucky, please.”  You whined and hell, you looked like a goddess, fallen forward onto the bed, so consumed by sensations that you wanted to have no control over and he could recognise that so clearly.

“Tell me you need me.”  He panted, speeding up his thrusts, letting each one land beautifully before forcing himself momentarily from the heat of your body once more.

“Oh God, I need you.  I need you, Bucky.  I need you to fuck me faster.  Fuck me harder.  It feels so good.  I’m gonna cum for you, I just need more.”  You couldn’t help but sob, drowning in the litany of groans and curses falling from the older man lips.

Your fingers worked faster, in time with the thrusts you were receiving until it all come crumbling down around you.  The knot in your tummy tightened unbearably, your heart pounding as the sensation took over entirely.  It was a perfect release, your body clenching and tightening rhythmically while you sobbed the ecstasy into the pillow under your head.

“Oh good girl, that’s it.  Cum nice ‘n hard.  O-oh God.”  You vaguely registered Bucky coaching you through your orgasm before reaching his own but unlike any of his videos, he didn’t pull out.  He stayed buried inside you, pressed as deep as he could go.  You felt the weight of his seed inside you, the position allowing it to drip deeper, pooling at your cervix and the thought alone made you shudder.

“My God, that was…. Wow.”  He laughed, kissing down your spine before pulling out and flopping onto the bed beside you.  

“Yeah… Wow.”  You giggled, kissing his cheek and curling up against him, not really worried that you were both a little sweaty.  

“I meant it though.  I’ll be gentle with you later.  I’ll take my time with you.  I just needed that.”  He kissed your forehead, running a hand down your back and damn, he certainly wouldn’t hear you complaining.

[gigicreates562]

The Bet- Fred Weasley x Reader

Y/n bets Fred that she can get him to admit his jealousy before the end of the week. It does not go how either of them planned. 

TW: none

Word Count: 2,900

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

“You’re an idiot” George stated plainly.

“Hang on- what have I done already? It’s only 9 in the morning” Fred retorted.

“The bet”

“Godric, she works quickly. How does everyone know already?”

“Because you’ve gone absolutely mental thinking you can win!” Lee piped in as he sat down at the table, “Everyone’s talking about how badly you’re going to lose”

Fred’s mind drifted back to last night.

…

“What did he kill your grandma or something? Why are you looking at him like that?” Y/n teased.

“Like what?” Fred replied, with his eyes still locked on Draco.

“Hang on are you jealous?”

“No,” He argued, still eyeing the Slytherin boy, “How did he get ahold of your gloves in the first place?”

“I left them there after our one-night stand last week.”

“What?” Fred’s focus whipped to her.

“You are jealous!”

“I’m not! Just …concerned for your well-being. Did you actually?”

“Of course not you twat. I left them at quidditch practice and he picked them up for me,” She answered, watching as Fred went back to eyeing Draco, “Why won’t you admit you’re jealous?”

“Because I’m not”

“Right… Interesting”

“What is?” Fred finally relaxed as Draco went out of the room.

“That you are jealous, but you just won’t admit it,” Y/N replied as she shoved his shoulder playfully.

“I won't admit it because I’m not jealous,” Fred said pushing her shoulder right back, “Why do you care? I think you want me to be jealous,”

“Wanna bet?”

“On what?”

Fred was slightly anxious. Deep down he knew he was a little jealous. Protective even. But he knew if he admitted it, it would mean admitting his feelings for her, which he was NOT ready to do just yet.

“I bet that I can make you admit you’re jealous by the end of this week,” Y/n challenged.

“You’re on.”

“Good,” Y/n stuck out her hand for him to shake.

“Hang on,” Fred took a confident step closer, instantly making y/n hyper-aware of their proximity, “What do I get if I win?” Fred brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, clearly testing her.

“If you win,” Y/n whispered while taking another step impossibly closer, “I’ll do your potions homework for a week.”

She could feel his chest against hers now but she was not backing down now.

“But if I win,” she continued, “You have to ask me to the Yule Ball- In front of everyone.”

“Deal,” Fred scoffed and shook her hand.

…

“Drag it out as long as you can mate, I’ve started a betting pool” George held up a pouch full of sickles, ever so annoyingly.

“WHY is everyone so convinced I’ll lose?” Fred hissed.

“Because you’re head over heels for her! And because of that,” Lee pointed behind him. All the boys directed their attention to the front of the Great Hall.

“Bloody Hell” George laughed out.

There she was. Standing at the front of the great hall in all her glory was y/n. But instead of her usual sweater and jeans, she sported a tight black turtle neck with a leather skirt resting just below her mid-thigh cleverly directing everyone’s eyes down her toned legs covered by sheer black pantyhose wrapped up neatly by a pair of stunning black heels. She looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and much to Fred’s dismay everyone recognized it.

She was currently surrounded by a gaggle of third years, shamelessly trying to catch the older girl’s attention. But there was one specific person who made Fred’s blood boil. To Y/n’s right- stood Cormac, ever the overconfident flirt, making Y/n laugh. Fred couldn’t believe it. He almost, almost, stood up, but at the last second Y/N caught his eyes, so Fred sat back down and directed his attention back to his food.

“Oi! Fred!” Dean Thomas called, approaching Fred, “Are you and Y/N still seeing each other?”

“We were never seeing each other Dean,” Fred hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Lee asked bluntly. George had the nerve to laugh at the 4th year’s audacity, earning a glare from his twin across the table.

“Go right ahead,” Fred approved.

“Wicked.” Dean hurried away towards y/n fixing his robes as he went.

“Have I mentioned you’re entirely, utterly, and completely stupid?” George reminded once more.

“Shut up.”

…

That afternoon Fred sat at the desk in y/n’s room patiently awaiting her arrival. She was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago, but still no sign of her.

Five more minutes passed and Y/N finally rolled in. Amongst her hair sat a small red flower tucked behind her ear delicately.

“What is that?” Fred pointed to the improvised hairpiece.

“A flower. Dean gave it to me. Red for love or Gryffindor or some rubbish. I don’t know.”

“So now you’re flirting with Dean Thomas? He’s two years below us!”

“Not flirting Fred, simply accepting a gift. Why? Are you jealous?” She challenged crossing to lean on the desk near him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right,” She relented rolling her eyes, “Well then, ready to study?”

“If we must”

…

Some days came and went and pretty soon it was Wednesday.

How on Earth is it only Wednesday? Fred thought. He was miserable.

For the past three days, he watched boys trip over themselves just to get near Y/N. He didn’t think she’d carried her own books to class the entire week, not to mention the sweets on her desk had now grown to be a small mountain. It seemed everyone in Hogwarts was determined to make him forfeit. But Fred, just as stubborn as y/n, would not give in that easily.

Today was the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game. Fred and George routinely made their way up to the stands to support their best friend and third favorite beater: Y/n.

“Bloody hell I’ve never seen the Slytherin stand so packed,” Fred commented as he pushed through the crowd.

“Not to put salt on your wound mate, but I think you know why they’re here” George replied making his own way to the front.

“Unfortunately I’m painfully aware.”

“You have to admit. She does look pretty bloody hot when she’s playing” George poked,

Receiving a sharp smack on his chest from his twin.

“Hey hey! I am not the enemy… Simply pointing out the obvious,” He added.

Smack

“Alright!!”

~~~

“That was mad!” Lee exclaimed.

“I’ve never seen Hufflepuff eat shit that badly” George added.

“Come on. Let’s go find her” Fred said. He may have been in a bad mood, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an amazing game for Slytherin. The boys journeyed down the stairs to wait for the team outside the showers. As they got closer Fred rolled his eyes at the sight before him.

“Sorry gents!” Fred loudly announced to the small village waiting outside the showers for Y/n, “Y/N has already left! Snuck out through the back. Looks like you’ll have to obnoxiously fight for her affections some other time,” he ended, clapping a few of them on their backs.

Fred’s call seemed to clear out most of the crowd including a very disappointed Dean Thomas.

“Right then, that’s better,” Fred sighed.

“You’re encouragable” George muttered.

“Are those my favorite twins I hear?” Y/N exclaimed as she exited the locker room. Her hair was damp and beginning to curl up from the shower and lack of a proper comb.

“That was bloody brilliant,” George congratulated as he hugged her tightly.

“That was a pretty gruesome game,” Fred said, abandoning his usual cocky persona for a more timid one.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t come,” Y/N cood as she crossed over to Fred.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Didn’t say you were”

George cut in, “Right, as entertaining as you two are, I’ve got a date with my pillow. Great game Y/n.” George clapped her on the back and made a quick exit.

“He’s right you know” Fred turned toward the girl.

“About what?”

“You were pretty ‘bloody brilliant’,” he mocked his twin’s tone.

“Thanks, It helped to have my good luck charm in the stands as usual,” she beamed at him.

“Yeah… Well, I’m off then,” Fred said beginning to leave.

“Fred!” She halted the boy, “Um- Well I just… Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah of course.”

~~~

The party was a rager. Gryffindor had just won the Friday match and it seemed like all of Hogwarts was celebrating. The common room was packed with people from all different houses dancing, chatting, and of course drinking.

There was only one rule to get in: you’ve got to wear red and gold.

Fred, however, made sure to deliberately leave that detail a mystery to Y/N. As usual, he had a plan. He figured that this being the last night of their little bet, she would be plotting a scheme of her own, so he would have to beat her before she beat him. His plan was simple: she would show up at the door, not wearing the required colors, and he would graciously offer him his jersey. With no other option, she would be forced to wear a shirt with a big fat “WEASLEY” on the back, easily warding off potential suitors. Now all he had to do was wait for her to show up.

And show up she did. His plan was right on track. She approached the portrait hole confidently; strutting up in an emerald green Slytherin sweater. Perfect.

“Ope, sorry love, gonna have to stop you there.” Fred said blocking her path, “Red or gold required to get in.”

“What?”

“Yup. No entry for green. Sorry darling,” Fred smiled at her oh so sweetly. Y/N tried to ignore the little flutter of her heart when he used that pet name for her.

“But you are in luck!” He continued, “I just so happen to have this!” Fred proudly pulled out and presented his jersey to her, thinking he had won.

“Mhm. Let me get this straight,” Y/n exaggerated, “You ‘just so happen’ to have forgotten to tell me the dress code, and you ‘just so happen’ to have a shirt for me, but it ‘just so happens’ that it has the word ‘WEASLEY’ plastered all over the back?” She saw right through him.

“Yup,” Fred popped the p of the word as he held out the shirt to her.

But Fred had made one fatal mistake, he had forgotten the very reason he fancied this particular woman oh so much: her boldness.

“Right,” She began to speak loudly, as to attract the attention of everyone in the room, “SO I CAN'T COME IN WITH THIS SHIRT, BUT IF I CHANGE TO RED OR GOLD I CAN ENTER?”

“Yes?” Fred hesitated. What was she up to?

“WELL FINE!” She exclaimed, and Fred watched in shock and might he say admiration as the next few actions unfolded in front of him.

Y/n reached down and proudly pulled off her shirt over her head, revealing a bright red bra underneath.

Fred gaped at her. He definitely had not seen this coming, but by god was that attractive. He didn’t know if it was her confidence or just the proximity to her shirtless chest, but Fred Weasley was truly at a loss for words.

“Let the woman in!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and Fred stepped aside to watch as she walked past smirking. How did his plan manage to go that badly?

“It’s alright mate you made a valiant effort,” George appeared patting his shoulder, “But if you do lose I’ve got five galleons on it. I suppose I could share some of the profit.”

“I need a drink,” Fred uttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

~~~

The party raged on, and it was getting dangerously close to midnight. Y/n knew she had to finish this and fast. Luckily, she had the advantage. Fred had been hitting the fire whisky pretty hard, and best of all Cormac had entered the ring once more.

“Hey,” Y/n said approaching Cormac, “You played pretty well, I couldn’t help but watch.”

Actually, she could. She hadn’t even noticed him. In fact, she was pretty sure she was transfixed with a certain Gryffindor beater for most of the game, but she put that aside for now. She was winning this bet.

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled. She internally cringed at his words but persisted.

“Can I sit?”

“Of course” Cormac shoved over to make room for her. Y/n glanced at the clock, getting slightly nervous. 11:30. 30 more minutes- time to be bold. She stole a glance in Fred’s direction, who unfortunately seemed distracted talking to Lee, and with a deep inhalation, sat directly on Cormac’s lap.

“Well hello,” he praised as he placed a hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to move it away and pushed onward once more.

“Hello,” she flirted, glancing back at Fred again. Still not watching. Fuck. Why won’t he look at her? Why won’t Cormac STOP looking at her? Abruptly Y/n became startlingly aware of her shirtlessness.

“You look quite fit tonight. Really a killer outfit,” he joked.

She laughed, LOUDLY, Too loudly to seem natural but it seemed to have caught George’s eye. She hoped he would deliver the news to Fred. The clock was ticking.

Carefully, she placed a hand on Cormac’s chest.

“So do you, but maybe that’s just the fire whiskey talking,” Y/n flirted.

Now it was Cormac’s turn to laugh. Smoothly, he moved his hand from her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her chest felt so exposed up against his Jersey, but she had to keep pressing forward. The conversation was going slow, too slow. 11:45. Where was Fred?

“Tell me Y/n- was this bra for me? Or was this just a happy accident,” her brain was screaming at her to bail. To call the whole thing off. But she was so close, Fred would be here soon. She was sure of it.

“Well I-“

“Y/n.” Fred FINALLY cut in. “Can I have a word?”

~~~

Fred ushered her quickly into his room. 11:50.

“The hell was that?” Fred was seething, “Cormac? I knew you were stubborn but I didn’t think you were that cruel.”

“Why? Jealous?” She teased, not quite grasping just how angry he was.

“Why is this a game to you? Why am I a game to you?” Fred sat down facing away from her, raking his fingers through his copper hair.

Y/n was dumbstruck. What just happened?

“What?” She was thoroughly confused.

Fred continued from his seat, “This whole thing. Do you think I wanted to be jealous? Do you think that I like how unreasonably irritated I get when someone else wants to carry your books? Why did you have to go and embarrass me for it? I’m sorry I ever even cared for you like that.”

“Fred- like what? What are you saying?”

“You know well what I mean. It’s already painful enough knowing I’m just a friend.”

“Fred, I guess I’m confused I-”

“I’m in love with you alright? I was perfectly fine loving you in secret! Why did you have to go and mess it all up?” He confessed, his temper getting the better of him. “Just forget it. Clearly, my feelings aren’t that important to you” He stood quickly and headed for the door.

“Fred wait!” He barreled out the door and down to the common room attempting to weave through all the people. Y/n was hot on his tail. “Fred- wait- please- just slow down a minute!”

He continued to push through and out of the portrait.

“Fred!” She followed just behind him, but he didn’t stop. Barreling all the way down through passageways and tunnels until finally reaching the boat house. He stopped on the edge of the dock, and she followed.

“You twat!” She accused.

“Oh, I’m the twat? You’re ridiculous,” He scoffed, turning to face her to argue further, but before he could she cried out.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Roughly, she grabbed the collar of his robes and yanked him closer to her, planting his lips directly on hers before removing them again.

He stared at her shocked, and for the second time tonight, Fred was at a loss for words.

“Did you seriously think I did all of this to embarrass you? Fred, I’m in love with you! I just was tired of dropping hints all the time, so I was hoping this might push you to admit your feelings. I had no idea it would go this far.”

“You- you love me too?”

“Of course I do! Fred, you and I both saw this week, that if I wanted to date someone else I could. But I don’t, okay? Can you get that through your thick skull?”

He stared at her. She stared at him. Gingerly, he approached her raising a hand up to hold her cheek in his palm.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Fred?”

The boy slowly moved his hand to grab her chin and pulled her lips closer, but just before they touched he stopped. Smirking he uttered, “It’s 12:05. You owe me some potions homework.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered as she finally closed the gap between them.

The kiss was slow and deliberate. The new couple was savoring their first real taste of each other. He tastes just like caramel she noted as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Y/n reached up to his neck to pull him closer, but Fred broke the kiss.

“Would you like to take this upstairs?” He asked, “Although the dress code for my room is no red so you’ll probably have to take that off.”

“Prick,” She said with a smile as she brought her lips back down to his. 

[rendy-a]

Could I request a self aware twst au with like the first years :D?

I want to thank all the people who interacted with that post earlier today. It gave me enough motivation to go out and finish this piece.

While trying to think up concepts for this work, it occured to me that all the first years (except Ortho) were in sports clubs. That means there is one event perfect for you to bond with your first year friends.

Ace kicks a pile of canvas laying in a heap at his feet, “This is ridiculous!  What if something happens while we’re gone!”  His mouth twists into an unpleasant grimace.  He looks to his basketball club members for backup, but no one will meet his eye.  So, he turns to where he knows he’ll find support.  “Oi, Sebek!”  The green haired fae is distractedly pounding away at a tent stake nearby but it is easy to see from his expression that his heart isn’t in it.  “What happens if someone tries to kidnap the Player when we aren’t there to protect them?  You know how famous they are!”  Sebek stops hammering and slowly looks up, tears forming in his eyes. 

“SILVER! SILVER!” he shouts to his clubmate, “What if I’m not there to protect the Player!  Forget this event, we must return to the school with ALL HASTE!”  He looks to his fellows for support but again, none of the senior students stop what they are doing.  Ace, however, is fast to abandon his own camping site and join Sebek.  “Right, right?” he eagerly urges Sebek on, “What does this even matter if our Player isn’t here to see it?” 

“Stop it,” the sturdy voice of Jack growls, “It doesn’t pay to get worked up over it.  This is in the story, so we have to do it.  That’s just how it is.”  Sebek stares at the wolf beastman silently, tears falling from his eyes.  “Maybe we can tell them about it later!” Deuce tries to cheer his fellow freshman up, “I’m sure they’d like to hear about it.  They always listened to my card stories before…well before it happened.  I think they’d like to hear about this too!”  At that Sebek seemed mightily cheered and returned to setting up his tent with gusto, muttering about what he’d tell the Player about later.  Ace scoffs, sensing his defeat and returns bitterly to his own site. 

Epel wanders over and observes Ace silently.  “You finished?” Ace asks in surprise.  “Yeah, Leona is a great leader and took charge of getting us set up right away!” Epel informs him, “I had time to put up my tent and help Ruggie set up one for Leona too!”  Then he looks down and kicks Ace’s sad abandoned tent as well, “I just wish the Player was here to see it.  I bet they’d have been really impressed with how fast I finished.”  Ace frowns and complains, “But they aren’t here.  They are back at school with the Arts Clubs.”  This causes Epel to scowl deeply, “Dagnabit!  I didn’t need a reminder of that!  I can just picture those frou-frou artsy types trying to suck up to the Player.  Trying to get them to talk different, eat different, just…” He doesn’t finish the thought but the way he grinds his teeth shows how he feels about the idea.

The sound of pounding tent stakes and shifting canvas is diminished when the booming voice of Coach Vargas booms out, “Listen up, young campers!  Now, I know you don’t need any additional motivation to showcase your strength and fortitude here after I’ve done an AMAZING job setting up this EXCITING AND ENTERTAINING EVENT!”  Here he pauses and casts a quick look over his shoulder before straightening up again.  “But if you do!”  Then he smiles a beaming smile and sets his hands on his hips.  That’s when you pop out from behind him, “Hey guys!  Guess who’s here to do their memory keeper duties!” 

Ace jumps over his canvas pile in a rush to get to your side and stumbles over it.  “Woah, calm down,” you admonish him cheerily, “I’ll be here all weekend.”  Epel asks in an innocent sounding voice, “You will?  You really will?”  You pat the two boys on the shoulder and search out your other first year friends in the crowd.  Sebek is sobbing quietly in front of his tent and Deuce is waving excitedly from the distant track club area.  Jack gives you a small nod before turning back to his area as though he is unaffected by your appearance, but the cloud of dust kicked up by his wagging tail says otherwise. 

You turn toward Vargas and look expectantly.  He looks blankly back at you until you awkwardly say, “Go on.”  He looks at you a moment before clearing his throat, “Ah yes, yes.  Harumph!  Anyway, tents are up!  Get over here and listen up for your next task!”  Then he looks at you as though seeking your approval to hand out the task.  You shrug and then nod as though to say, ‘Sure, go for it.’  Vargas gives you a toothy smile and then proceeds to hand out a familiar sounding explanation about the tasks to be assigned to the clubs.  You wave lightly before heading back to the cabin to get your own things sorted out.  The eagerness of the students fades as fast as your departure.

“So…,” Deuce begins carefully, “We are going to try now?  Right?”  He looks at Ace for confirmation.  Jack snorts behind him, “I was always going to try.”  Then he makes a fist and puts on an eager smile, “I’m going to knock this challenge out so fast that the Player can’t help but notice me!”  Deuce turns away from Ace to join Jack instead.  The two Track Club members fire each other up over their plans to dominate the camp tasks and stand out to the Player.  Deuce quickly becomes so distracted by this that he forgets Ace entirely.  This is just the chance Ace has been waiting for to quietly slip away.

“So, Prefect,” Ace begins as he appears at your side.  You yelp and drop your backpack, catching it before it hits the ground and damages your precious ghost camera.  “Ace!” you shout, “What are you doing here?  This isn’t in the event!”  He looks at you quietly and you quickly backtrack, “I…I mean, shouldn’t you be with the Basketball Club doing…something?”  Ace smiles, happy to have avoided an awkward situation.  “Nah, I’m not going to mess around in the woods.  It’s a team effort, so as long as those other guys do the grunt work, I’ll be fine.”  You roll your eyes at his attitude.  “Plus, why would I want to be anywhere but with my best buddy, eh Prefect?” 

You consider this carefully before slyly narrowing your eyes and gesturing to your unbuilt tent.  “Sure, thing, Pal.  Why don’t you hang out and help me build my tent.”  Ace grimaces, not wanting to do the work but mostly afraid you’ll pick up on his lack of tent-building expertise.  The odd standoff is concluded when you hear Coach Vargus bellow, “Nonsense!  That won’t do for either of you!  I can hardly deprive the Prefect of the chance to enjoy this stimulating muscle-building activity and as for you Ace, well, you are just slacking off.”  Ace starts to stammer as you just stand there cringing.  Coach Vargus calmly approaches Ace and lifts him up by his collar.  It reminds you of how you lift a misbehaving Grim by the scruff of his neck.  You wave awkwardly at the departing Ace as he looks imploringly at you from the Coach’s grasp.  ‘Oh well, you reap what you sow,’ you think.

A tiring amount of time later, you brush your hands off on your thighs and declare, “There, done!”  Then you slowly head over to grab your pack holding the Ghost Camera, among other supplies.  The sun is barely at its peak, but you are already sweating with exertion from putting up the tent.  You wonder how your more athletic friends among the first-year students are handling it.  You know they are more used to the effort, but you hope they are taking necessary precautions.  Perhaps you’d just remind them and see if they need to borrow some sunscreen.

You know realize that sunscreen was the least of your safety concerns.  You watch in disbelief as Sebek continues to scale a sheer cliff in search of a lantern blossom flower.  The reaction of the nearby students was mixed.  Silver seemed remarkably unconcerned as he spoke to Riddle nearby.  Meanwhile, you and several NPC characters were more nervous.  “He is going to fall, isn’t he?” you ask the nearby Scarabia A.  He looks at you for a long moment and then shrugs his shoulders.  You are not reassured at all. 

You turn instead to Ignihyde C and gesture, “This game doesn’t have a mature rating, so he can’t die.  Right? Right?”  The surprised student looks at you with his mouth falling open before he stammers, “R.right.”  Then he looks up at the precarious position of the green haired fae and mumbles, “But maybe you should cheer him on anyway.”  You look more intently at the NPC and demand, “Do you think that would help?”  He answers you in a fluster, “W..well, if my oshi…I mean friend…if my friend cheered me on, I think it would really help me do my best!” 

Right.  That is just the sort of thing friends do.  “HEY SEBEK!” you shout.  The fae somehow hears you shout and looks arrogantly over his shoulder at the spectators but when his eye catches your form, he shakes, and you fear he will tumble from the cliff.  “HOLD ON SEBEK, YOU CAN DO IT!  I BELIEVE IN YOU!”  From even the great distance between you, the image of determination that crosses his expression can be seen.  He sets off with a renewed vigor, making daring transitions and finding ways to make speedy progress.  With several movements that make you gasp and hold your breath; he reaches the lantern blossom and plucks it from the ground. 

Much faster than the ascent, Sebek’s return to the ground was accomplished quite shortly.  He was still a considerable distance up when he leaps from the cliff edge to race to your side and show off his prize.  He eagerly holds out the glowing lantern blossom for you to view.  “Its so pretty,” you comment politely, “I wish I had one.”  He gasps and grabs hold of your hand, forcing the poor battered flower into it.  “THEN YOU MUST HAVE THIS ONE!”  You give him a shocked look, “No really, that is unnecessary.  I’ll get one some other day.”  He smiles at you smugly, “No need Prefect.  Any time you need a lantern blossom, I will fetch one for you.”  You guiltily hold out the flower to one student after another, but no member of the Horseback Riding Club will take it from you.  “Prefect,” Riddle finally says in a commanding voice, “Its rude to return a gift.  We are more than capable of retrieving another lantern blossom.”  Sebek and Silver nod in agreement, backing up the Dorm Leader.  You think it’s time to go before you cause this club any more trouble.  You make your excuses and dash off to the lake.

As you part a pair of branches and emerge from the forest at the lake’s edge, you catch sight of some members of the Spelldrive Club nearby.  Ruggie seems to be fishing up a storm while your first-year friend Epel watches from nearby with his own pole.  “See,” Ruggie tells his underclassman, “That’s how its done.  Now in return for that free lesson, how about you show me what you learned by catching enough fish for the rest of the club! Shishishi!”  You roll your eyes at the obvious attempt to foist the work off onto Epel but are surprised with your friend shouts “YES SIR!” with enthusiasm.  You catch Ruggie’s eye and give him a quiet tsk tsk which only earns you a mischievous wink before the hyena beastman set’s off toward camp.

You slowly saunter over to Epel, who is fully engaged in his fishing.  “So, got a plan?” you asked over his shoulder.  “Eh!?” he gasps and drops his pole, “Player!  I..I mean Prefect!  It’s you! Ya’ had me surprised outta my skin there!”  You give him an apologetic smile.  Epel stoops down to retrieve his pole and shyly replies, “My plan is just to catch the fish.  I’m not going to give up until I’ve caught at least a dozen!”  Then he holds up his arm and bends it at the elbow, giving you a little flex to show off his determination.  You hold in a laugh, “Well, if you are that fired up, why stop at only one dozen?” 

Epel’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he gets a maniacal grin.  “Yeah! You’re right!  I’m going to catch you at least two dozen fish!  Or maybe three or four!”  You know Epel is not the type to break his word, so you quickly interrupt to calm down his ambitions, “One dozen is enough!  I was just joking.”  You wave your hands toward the ground as though to say, let’s lower our expectations.  Epel frowns and mutters under his breath, “That isn’t going to impress anyone.” Then he looks at you determined, “Just wait and see!  I’ll catch plenty of fish so don’t go eat’n with any other club!  When tha fish are in tha bag, I’ll make ya Gram’s special fish stew!” 

As Epel gets to work, casting his line and reeling in the lure, you sit beside him on a rock.  When the time seems right, you snap a picture of him eagerly lifting a small fish from the lake on his line.  “There you go!  One down!” you say as you transfer the ghost camera to your elbow and give him a small clap of encouragement.  He preens a short second before frowning down at the small fish.  “Tha’ next ‘un will be twice as big!” he shouts in determination before casting his line again. 

True to his prediction, soon Epel gets a tremendous tug on his pole.  You both shout and leap to your feet at the strength of the fish that appears to be on the line.  “WOAH!” Epel shouts.  You lean over the edge of the lake, trying to see the monster fish Epel has snagged.  Epel too seems interested in his opponent and plans one foot firmly while leaning forward to stare intently where his line entered the lake.  With a sudden flash, a scaled hand emerges from the lake to grab the tip of Epel’s rod and tugs Epel, pole and all, into the lake.  You quickly slide back as far more of Floyd emerges from the lake.  He gives you a toothy smile before his trademark laugh emerges and he returns to the lake.  Epel does not immediately surface, and you are concerned for a moment before you spot him further down the shore.  Though he has concealed himself behind a log, you can tell his ears are flushed with embarrassment.  You kindly decide to give him his space.

Halfway to camp, your stomach begins to growl.  You thought sadly about Gran’s special fish stew, now beyond your reach.  You hoped that you’d manage to sweet talk some fish off someone.  They were your friends, so someone is bound to share, right? 

The size of Deuce’s eyes when you asked him sweetly if he’d share his food with you rivaled that of the empty plate you held out to him.  “Please?” you finish your plea for lunch.  Deuce flushes and quickly removes his pack from his shoulder, pulling out a fairly large fish.  “No problem, Prefect, I’ve got enough for two here!”  You make a little gesture to celebrate your victory and compliment him, “Yeah!  Great job catching such a big fish.  It looks so huge, I bet its even enough for three people!”  Immediately Deuce denies this, “NO!  NO, IT’S NOT!”  When you pull back in surprise, Deuce continues in a softer voice, “I…I mean this one is just perfect for two.  It…its just meant for us.  To share.  Together.” 

You hold up your hands and agree, “Sure, sure.  Just you and me.  I get you.”  Deuce seems so very pleased by your response that you decide to just let his strange response slide.  Plus, you need him to cook that fish.  “So…what are you making?  You know, just for us to share?” you ask as you saddle up to his side?  Deuce looks back and forth between you and the fish, “I sure know how to cook this.  Yup, I really do.”  Your mouth falls into a little O and then you glare at him suspiciously, “Deuce, do you know how to cook fish?”  He doesn’t meet your eye but assures you that Trey taught him some recipes.  You still have your suspicious but figure if it was a Trey recipe, it would be alright.

“So, what do we do?” you ask Deuce.  He looks at you with a dreamy expression, “We?  You’re going to cook with me?”  You shrug your shoulders, “I mean yeah, that’s how Trey’s recipes are, right?”  Then you lean in close and whisper, “Like…Like in the game when we made that chestnut tart together.  Right?”  Deuce quickly agrees, “Right!  Together!  You and me!  Just…you and me… Ahem!”  He finishes with a cough and then, to your relief, sends you to the forest to collect some herbs. 

You had a handful of samples and a general area to search for more.  Apparently, Jack had scented some out while setting up camp and taken cuttings so his clubmates could retrieve more later.  You smiled at the foresight of the first-year student.  You weren’t sure exactly what Deuce needed, so you gathered a few handfuls of each type.  You walk back to the camp and set your bounty on the table next to the fish Deuce has prepared.  It looks like he’s used the time you were away to fillet the fish and make a simple dough.  Seeing the dough gives you confidence that this really is a Trey recipe. 

“So, what now?” you ask him.  “Chop up the herbs and mix them into a paste with water,” Deuce directs.  “Sure,” you say while gesturing to the pile, “but which ones?”  Deuce pauses and looks at the large pile of greens you have sitting there.  “Oh…um…All of them!”  Now your doubts are back.  “Are you sure about that?” you ask him carefully.  “Yeah!” Deuce replies confidently, “Just like Trey says, the more the merrier!”  You carefully take two sprigs of herbs and chop them up and then, while Deuce is preoccupied with the dough, give them a taste.  Honestly, the combination of the two isn’t bad.  ‘Well,’ you think, ‘what to I know about cooking in a magical world anyway?’  So, you chop the entire pile of greens and mix it all into a thick paste.  Deuce combines your herb paste with the fish and puts it into a small pie shell he has formed with the dough.  Then, you pack the ‘pie’ into the hot rocks of the fire to roast. 

While the pie bakes, you sit side by side on a log and chat about normal things.  Or maybe it was more like you chatted and Deuce listened.  You didn’t mind, he was good company even if he seemed preoccupied.  You were telling him about Grim’s latest antics when you felt something on your hand.  You give a small yelp and tug your hand into your lap.  “Ah!” you examine your hand as you brush it off, “Was that a bug?”  Deuce, who you suddenly realize had gotten far closer to you than you’d noticed, nervously remarked, “Oh yeah, that…was probably it.  Ha ha.”  Finally, you ask, “Are you cold?  I bet we could find you a seat closer to the fire if you are.  You can be as cozy as our pie.”  Deuce seems embarrassed for a moment before suddenly becoming alarmed, “THE PIE!”  He jumps up and fishes the pie from the fire. 

He brings it to you nervously, “I think it is fine…”  The pie has a small amount of char around the edge that was directly in the fire.  If it hadn’t been made by your good friend, you’d probably have refused it but, since it was made by Deuce, you don’t have the heart to refuse.  “Oh yeah, looks fine.  I guess…lets try it?” you say trying to convince both yourself and Deuce of the pie’s editability.  Deuce lets out a happy sigh and breaks the pie in half, handing you the slice with fewer burnt edges.  He makes no move to eat the pie himself but seems to hold his breath, waiting for you to try it.  “Well, here it goes?” you say in a worried tone.  You take a bite; it’s terrible.  You force your mouth into a wide smile, “mmm…” you mutter for him in pity.  You decide to use the same method for the pie as you used the last time you were forced to eat Lilia’s cooking.  You cram the pie down in three huge bites, trying to finish it off while tasting it as little as possible. 

For a moment, Deuce seems greatly pleased with the gusto in which you eat before the look of alarm sets on his face and he tilts his head to the side.  Or maybe he is tilting his whole body?  Oh, no.  It’s you that is falling.  Then the blackness takes you as Deuce’s frightened shouts fade out, “HELP, I think…I’ve poisoned…the player…”

You wake up groggy.  If that was all, you’d have considered yourself lucky, but it also appears you’ve been tied to a tree.  You are confused for a moment until you recall the storyline of the Camp Vargus event.  Right, Coach is probably out tormenting students right now while anyone captured is tied up.  Great, just great.  You look up when you hear a long howl echoing through the forest.  ‘Is that Jack?’ you think to yourself.  If Jack is already in his wolf form, then this camp is nearly over.  You sigh and lean back into the tree, waiting for someone to come along and release you.

It isn’t longer than an hour before a very tired but eager Jack arrives to untie you.  “Guess you are the hero of the day, huh?” you jibe at him.  He flushes as he rubs the back of his head, “Oh, you heard about that.”  He tries to pretend indifference but moments later he is asking for more details, “So what did you hear?”  Well, this is a challenge to answer since you hadn’t actually heard anything about it.  You just remembered it from when it was a game plot.  “Well…didn’t Floyd change into his mer form?  That was probably cool to see.” 

A look of incredulousness passes over his face, “Yeah well, other guys probably looked cool too.”  You nod knowingly, “Yeah, I heard you got to Sebek use his training to lure the monster into the bog.  Who knew there would be a chance for him to show off his skills out here.”  Jack huffs, “Yeah but he wasn’t the only one using his skills out there.”  Now you smile, feeling a bit mischievous yourself, “Oh, for sure.  I mean what would we have done without our MVP from Savanahclaw.”  Jack lets out a relieved sigh and smiles.  “Yes, Ruggie sure did pull though.  I don’t normally approve of his sneaky habits, but you have to admit he really came through today.” 

Jack’s eyes widen and he stands there in a silent shock.  “Well, let’s get going.  Are you hungry?  I could sure go for something right about now.”  Then you dust off your knees and start heading toward camp.  After a moment, you decide you’ve tortured him enough and pause, waiving your hand to signal him to join you.  When he reaches your side, you give his uniform sleeve a tug.  He bends down and you use this opportunity to give him a pat on the head and then rub his soft ears.  “You did good, Jack,” you praise him softly.  Then you thread your arm through his own and tug him along to camp.  “Now, let’s go get some grub.  Just don’t take anything Deuce gives you, ok?”  Jack smiles and follows you along, tail wagging all the way.

[joels-shitty-puns]

Kings & Queens

Pairing: Post-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: I saw a list of reverse writing tropes, one of which was "too many beds" which I thought was hilarious until my brain went crazy. So here's where my mind went when there are oddly... too many beds.

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: None! This could even be read as platonic.

Other stuff: No descriptors. It can be romantic or friendly. Choose your adventure.

To those of you who are reading this: Thank you! I know I haven't written in months. I have barely even been on here. I want that again, but mentally I just haven't been feeling like much of anything lately. That being said, I saw the trope and I had an idea and quickly scribbled this down. It is short, not my best work, and doesn't have much emotion, but I did it :) To those of you who might also be struggling, I see you! You'll get through this. I hope all my tumblr buddies are doing well. I miss you guys.

_________________________________

It had been nearly a year of patrols with Joel. A year of nasty buildings and hard rocky floors to take shelter for the night, a year of either taking turns on watch, or being stuck sharing the same sleeping bag. Or the same mattress. Your only reprieve was your nice bed in Jackson, which you knew was safe, and warm, and most importantly… yours.

Joel was… alright. You two were friendly at best. But for the most part, it was all business. He didn't like to talk much, and you became tired of receiving looks or grunts when asking about Ellie, or Tommy, or his former life. But you worked well together, you made a good team, and you trusted each other to stay safe. You had run into trouble before, and you always had each other's backs. Words were often left unsaid, but you both knew what you meant to the other.

So when you stumbled upon an abandoned shopping mall while scoping potential areas of left-behind goods, it was a breath of fresh air. Malls could be dangerous with so much ground to cover, and so many potential hiding places and dark corners for the cordyceps to fester.

But the mall could also be a light at the end of the tunnel. A plethora of abandoned items to loot and sell or keep for yourself.

After hours of digging through every nook and cranny, you managed to fill a couple of bags full of items, and planned to make it a regular stop on your raids. But as the time grew later, the long-broken clock didn't tick on, and the windows grew dim, you knew it would be an overnight stay. However, choosing a sleeping spot was becoming exhausting with Joel around.

“I saw a sporting goods store. They probably have some sleeping bags, or maybe even a tent,” you provided.

“Nah, we're indoors. I wanna sleep like I'm indoors,” gruffed Joel.

“Oookay. How about that old food place? I think I saw a conveyer belt in the kitchen, next to the oven! It looks like it was used to make pizza,” you chirped excitedly. “I bet we could set up some blankets and make it like a bed.”

“Look, I know that machinery and oven have been dead for years, but on the off chance there's some malfunction, that just seems like a Final Destination event waitin’ to happen,” Joel shook his head.

“Wow you're difficult..” you huffed. “What if we go into the old children's photography studio and make a fort! The walls are even painted to look like a sky,” you offered with doe-eyes.

Joel just looked at you before grumbling back a “no. My back would kill me. There's gotta be a bed in here somewhere.”

Upon finding an old, faded mall map, Joel studied it before picking up the pace with a clear destination in mind.

He came to a stop in front of “Royal Mattressty.”

You raised a brow before saying “royal… mattress-tea?? What?”

“It's a play on words. Royal majesty.” 

“That's the stupidest thing I ever heard,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, no, it's because mattresses come in Kings, Queens, and-” he broke off at your grimace.

“You're such a dad!” 

____

The two of you made your way inside, only to find nearly 100 beds. Memory foam, spring, water, reclining… the possibilities were endless.

“WOW!” You squealed, running from bed to bed. “There's too many beds. I can't choose!”

Joel stretched, moving to a bed near the back corner. “I'm gonna set up here for the night. Sleep where y’want,” he gestured.

Sitting on a few different beds, you finally settled on one. A perfect, firm yet soft bed at the far end of the store. It was against a wall, allowing you to still see the door and keep your back safe. Perfect.

____

But as the night ticked on, you tossed and turned. You weren't at your home in Jackson. This bed was nice… but it wasn't your safe, cozy cabin.

When you aren't home, you're with Joel. All this time you've been wanting space at night, but now you feel scared and alone. Even a bit cold. But Joel was over on his own bed, probably sound asleep. You wouldn't dare take that away from him.

___

Until what felt like an hour passed.

___

And then another hour…

___

Finally, it had been about an hour and a half when you gave in. You wouldn't be getting any sleep at this rate. Fatigue is a dangerous fate when you need to be alert in this world. So you swallowed your pride and walked over to Joel's bed in the far end of the store.

But he wasn't there…

You wandered back, a bit nervous, until you spotted him. Curled up on a mattress only a row away from yours, you saw him blink in the night.

“You moved beds?” you whispered.

“Yeah, there was a draft over there…”

“A draft? In a mall with no electricity and no windows in this store?” You asked skeptically.

“Mmhm…” he grunted, sleepily.

“Sure. Well… turns out there was a draft over in my corner too. Move over,” you nudged.

“Draft, huh?” He wiggled over, letting you in the bed.

“Mmhm…” you mimicked his earlier grunt, settling in next to him.

“Good night Joel,” you whispered.

“G’night,” he replied, pressing his body closer to yours in the king sized bed.

Maybe there is such a thing as too many beds after all.

__________

Thanks for reading!!! Let me know what you think, and be sure to check out my masterlist for more. Reblogs are appreciated! Xoxo

[thyandrawrites]

On (soccer) partnerships, commitment, and why Nagi and Reo are the poster children for always doing the opposite of what the series is about

Alright fellas, this started out as something completely different, so forgive me in advance if it feels disjointed, but.

Have you wondered why in chapter 18 of epinagi, Nagi’s inner monologue complains that his “heat is being stolen away”? Or why even in the main series Nagi can’t seem to win a single match even after he and Reo get on better terms? Well, if you have, this post might be a fun read for you. If you already have answers, I might sound like I’m stating the obvious because none of this is particularly subtle or particularly new. But since both series have hit the Nagi Flop Era, I thought it’d be fun to take a deep dive into his character and Reo’s, the themes of the story, and how their codependence contradicts the entire premise of blue lock, intentionally so. I’m going to go over why stagnancy is the entire point of their partnership, and why the fact that they keep failing and failing is instrumental to the type of story Kaneshiro is trying to tell. 

So, without further ado. Get comfortable, this will get long. 

So, as I anticipated, Nagi and Reo are very very often written to be at odds with the themes the story functions around, and I think their regression is another instance of that. In a manga that often underlines the importance of making soccer your “reason to exist” if you’re serious about it, Nagi and Reo are the only duo repeatedly singled out as more committed to each other than to the sport itself. This, the story tells us, being the root of why they so often fail. 

The premise of blue lock is that you can’t become the best in the world until you dedicate your whole self to the sport. Only that egoism will push you in the right state of mind to go above and beyond for a victory. 

Time and time again, we see the most outstanding goals happen in what gets called the hottest place in the field. This “center of heat” comes up a couple of times, and it’s usually represented by a person. According to Ego’s philosophy, the idea is that the world’s best striker possesses a soccer-specific kind of charisma. When he enters a state of flow and pulls off a world-class play, he’ll have a ripple effect on the players around him, pushing them to reach flow too and elevating the level of the game itself. We saw this happening in the U-20 match. Ego’s not really aiming to create a national team, or to foster the talent of the new generation. He only cares about nurturing one person into that role, betting it all on the fact that once that striker awakens from its “rough diamond” shell, they will fire up their teammates & lead Japan to victory. 

Because of this, ideally, everyone aiming at becoming the world’s best striker should strive to be that center of heat. To an extent, even Nagi does. His motivation is spotty at best, but whenever a game heats up, Nagi’s ego gets tickled awake the same as everyone else’s. This is not limited to the times Isagi challenged him, by the way. He reacted to Rin’s skill in much the same way. 

Problem is, neither Nagi nor Reo seem to know how to become that center of heat by themselves. They only react to someone else raising the stakes of a match. Even when Nagi feels fired up, his lack of creativity & playmaking sense fail him against any opponent who is more tactical than him. In a similar way, even when Reo starts going after goals alone in the wake of his split from Nagi, he still can't see his vision of a goal through to the end, or gets outsmarted and beaten to the punch by other playmakers. 

The only times they really get their head into a game is when they're working as a duo. Compare for example Nagi losing grasp of his heated frenzy when he splits from Reo to how quickly he reaches flow when they go back to playing together.

So why is this an issue? If Nagi's limit is his over-reliance on instinct, and Reo's is the lack of self-centeredness that's key to scoring, then shouldn't teaming up solve the problem and make them a powerhouse? How come, even after somewhat resolving their communication issues, their soccer still is no match to that of the blue lock elites? 

Well, before I can begin to unpack the answer to that… A big theme driving the soccer partnerships is that you won’t go very far if you rely too much on the other person to carry your weight. This is the reality Bachira faces in the 4v4, when he “disappears”, swallowed by everyone else’s growth. This is also the lesson Rin learns from Sae when his brother returns from Spain a completely different, overwhelmingly superior player. The series tells us that relying on others to pick up your slack makes you less sharp and prone to noticing your weaknesses because someone else will cover your back. 

For a practical example of this, Rin's style when he played with Sae mirrors Nagi's around Reo: they both relied on instinct, trusting that the ball would always come if they just positioned themselves in the right spot to score. And for a time, it did. But that's not the level the rest of the world plays at. Nagi and Reo's winning streak ends when they face an unpredictable, explosive talent like Isagi, who doesn't operate according to any predictable patterns. Similarly, Rin's playstyle gets wrecked in a matter of minutes by a Sae who got to experience the "real" soccer played overseas. 

The point, then, is that Nagi and Reo never really assimilated any of Ego's lessons, instead resisting his philosophy to a fault by choosing each other. From the start, they’re not very good at being apart, given how their strength draws from being a team. Both of them are noted to only ever increase the level of their plays when they are working together, but not as much when alone.

Nagi’s the brawn to complete Reo’s brain, and their dynamic too often falls back on that codependent partnership. In fact, they default to their roles even when they're not playing with each other. During the second selection, Nagi replaces Reo with Isagi, continuing to rely on someone else's creativity and game sense, while he just follows. And in the 3v3, we similarly see Reo fall back on playing the midfielder to Kunigami and Chigiri's forward, offering up the perfect passes to make them shine and get all the scoring options they want. 

But what about when they're together? Aren't they strong then? Didn't Nagi score a crazy super goal thanks to Reo's assist? What do we make of that? 

You'll probably remember how Ego got a sense of foreboding from Nagi's five shot revolver. Of course, you might say, Ego never liked their soccer! He was cussing them out for playing together since day one! Of course he's a hater! 

Well… Yeah. But Ego's also an authorial insert, and he's there to tell us the themes of the story, and comment on the characters growth. Or in this case, their stagnancy. Nagi's returning to his reliance on Reo's brains and Reo's willingness to entertain it are both framed as a bad thing because it specifically contradicts the idea the series is based on: that a real striker is an egotistic, self-reliant existence that doesn't bend to other people's rules, but instead dictates their own, and makes everyone follow or fall through in their wake. 

There are several players this definition already applies to. Rin, Barou, Shidou and of course Isagi all come to mind. Isagi's growth in particular has been rotating around this concept. Isagi not only believes in his (meta) vision, but he also possesses the sharp-wit and the cutthroat resourcefulness to see it through no matter the odds, at times even to the detriment of his teammates. Nagi and Reo, on the other hand, can pull off some incredible plays, but it’s never enough to land them a solid victory, especially in the NEL arc. Usually, in a story, when a character fails enough times to become stagnant, the author is making some kind of point. In this case, as the narrative itself points out through Isagi first and Agi later, it’s the concept that relying on their teamwork is actually making Nagi and Reo’s soccer worse. 

Sure, Nagi might've caught Isagi off guard with those feints once and managed to score, but that's still him relying on instinct over brains. If you dissect that match, you'll see that aside from the fake volley itself, which is the product of a non-replicable state of flow, there isn't a single move Nagi and Reo made during that game that Isagi didn't see through, expect, and match their pace at. This is by design, of course. It's meant to indicate that while Isagi grew, learning from stronger players and assimilating new elements in his arsenal of weapons, Nagi and Reo are still stuck playing the same way they did in the second selection. With Reo as the heart, brain and anchor directing Nagi around, and Nagi as the leg kicking the ball into the net following a momentary burst of inspiration. 

The fact that this is intended as a setback in their path towards a more egotistical soccer is made more obvious by the timing. It's not a coincidence that Nagi went back to Reo the moment he got frustrated by how hard creativity and tactics come to him when he's on his own, without a "handler" like Reo (and later Isagi) taking care of all the hard parts. 

Nor is it a coincidence that Reo was faced with the choice to go back to helping Nagi out right when Reo was beginning to go after his own goals, without help. Nagi comes up to him and shakes him up literally one (1) panel after Reo's dramatic, resolute decision to prove himself alone.

Had they gotten anywhere in their quest to polish their individual skills during the split, maybe their partnership could’ve aspired to become more like Isagi and Bachira’s, eventually. However, they weren’t apart long enough to master their respective strengths, or to consolidate their egos as something separate from their status as partners. Thus, when they resume playing together, they instead hold each other back. 

So is their ego the problem here, then? Ever since that five shot fake volley, we see Nagi’s dissolve, leaving him unmotivated again, grasping for answers he can't seem to reach no matter how many people he asks. And surely, its disappearance is significant, much like how Reo's ever changing definition of his own ego is also significant. But I think the real issue is something else. Egos can take many forms, and Nagi and Reo aren't the only players whose so-called “protagonism” isn’t rooting for their own success. Most recently, Hiori gained an ego too, and it was framed as a good thing even though it doesn’t strictly lead to him becoming the best striker in the world. 

My idea, then, is that it's less that they lack the "correct" ego, but more like they lack the correct attitude towards soccer to begin with. From the start, they're both motivated by something that is not inherent to soccer itself, but only tangential to it: the World Cup—or rather, their promise to each other that they'd win the World Cup. Because of this, I think, they center their football more around their partnership & their shared dream than any genuine passion for the sport, unlike pretty much the rest of the cast (now including Hiori. Yay!). In other words, the problem is that neither of their egos is really about themselves, yet. So it fails them because it's not conductive to "protagonism", but centered around an "us" that drags them off course.

Let's go with Nagi first. On the surface, "commitment" and "Nagi Seishirou" don't seem to go well in the same sentence. Nagi doesn't do anything excessively. He's content to coast through life doing nothing more than he strictly needs to survive. As long as he can put in minimal effort and still have time to play video games and nap, he's happy. When his teachers asked him to fill a form about his future, he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do. He's the embodiment of living one day at a time cause it's too much work to figure out his life past that. Yet, he genuinely commits to soccer. 

Or does he? 

Sure, he agrees to not only playing the sport, but to dedicating several years of his life to becoming pro. That’s dedication, for sure. But is it really for soccer? I would argue that no, Nagi’s commitment is to his partnership with Reo, not to the sport itself. And okay, you can’t have one without the other, but the distinction is important to understand Nagi’s (and Reo’s as well) resistance to character growth. 

So, Nagi had no passion for the sport until he saw the level some other elite blue lockers played at, and got curious and frustrated enough to put real effort in it himself. But until then, soccer was simply something he tagged along in. In fact, he was pretty unenthused with the idea of playing until Reo promised him an easy life and made it so Nagi wouldn’t have to work hard for it. Nagi signs up for blue lock with the expectation that he’ll be the one to flunk out first, without being too torn up about it. Clearly, it’s not a career as a professional soccer player he has an attachment to. I’d argue it’s more the fact that he feels comfortable around Reo, and he is invested in what only their agreement can bring forth. That is, a life more exciting than any nap or game. 

The excitement part is the focus here. At their core, both Nagi and Reo’s characters are motivated by the wish to escape boredom. So much so, the epinagi movie made that its tagline. Thematically, dissatisfaction with boredom is the catalyst for every choice they make. While everyone else is motivated by an ambition that is inherent—that draws from their wish to excel—Nagi and Reo are more prize-oriented, lacking the conviction that they’re special on their own. It follows that the challenge of bringing home the World Cup represents just that—for Nagi, it’s the thrill of a final boss with the prospect of an easy life afterwards, and for Reo, something hard to obtain that he’d conquer by his own merit. In both cases, soccer for soccer’s sake is not the end goal. It’s just a tool to achieve what they really want. 

Neither of them ever really dreams of becoming the world’s best striker, and neither swears their entire life to soccer, either. Not even Reo ever brought up a career in the sport, past winning for Japan for the first time. This is why I say their commitment is more to each other than to football, and also why they struggle to advance in the program. 

Let's think about it. The Cup was never really Nagi's dream; beating Isagi was. Yet, when their partnership all but crumbles down, Nagi keeps making choices with the Cup in mind. The boy who never fought for anything becomes determined to honor his promise to Reo even if he's not certain that Reo still cares about it. By his own admission, he chooses Isagi and then England because both of those things bring him closer to their original goal, and Nagi's resolve for that has never waned, even if for a time he thought Reo's had.

It's like he clings to inertia to avoid thinking what the sport means to him. Despite how Reo seemingly turned his back on him, Nagi doesn't want to give up on what made them partners. To him, soccer never stopped being something they shared (to a fault). That's why, I think, when they make up, a big part of their reconciliation is going back to sharing a dream. This time, with Reo helping Nagi out instead of the other way around. And I'm saying that's a flaw because his subconscious need to seek answers and help from others made it so that whenever he's alone, he doesn't have a very defined idea of how to move forward. But again, a striker should be self-reliant, and have the capacity to evolve on his own even as the match is unfolding. But Nagi didn't even believe in himself until Reo convinced him he was special, so how can Nagi have the right mindset to seize his protagonism?

Similarly, Reo’s drive is also not based on anything inherent. From the start, he doesn’t believe he was “chosen by football” the way geniuses like Nagi and Rin are. Because of this, he never bought into Ego’s striker philosophy, nor has he been a very fitting candidate for it yet. Much like with Nagi, his set up as someone willing to step away from the spotlight positions him in defiance of the story’s themes. While Nagi has the talent and instinct to become a powerhouse but lacks conviction, Reo is a born leader outside of the facility, but within blue lock’s rules he can only make it to the U-20 bench, and so far no further. 

The point here is that Reo’s readiness to be Nagi’s crutch is lowkey framed as a voluntary burden he places on his potential growth, a fact that the narrative condemns. 

Reo was born for success—bred and raised with every luxury to make sure he'd step into his father's shoes and be one of Japan's wealthiest and most capable businessmen. And Reo takes obvious pride in his social status, too. We can see it in the flaunted wealth of his spending and daily habits, as well as in the way he interacts with his peers. He funds his Hakuho soccer team and easily seizes captainship. Blue lock teams don't have captains, but he still rises to a similar position even within an environment designated to promote violent competitiveness and a wolf-eat-wolf mentality. Heck, he asks Nagi to call him "boss" and demands Zantetsu recognizes him as "super elite". Pride in being the best and excelling at everything he does is written into Reo's code.

Yet, the moment Ego suggests that there is no such thing as cooperation within his training program, Reo is quick to bargain—take him, he’s the real star. I will tag along and ensure his success. 

Ever the businessman, right? Problem is, renouncing his pride for someone else is the opposite of the attitude he should have. Same as Nagi, Reo puts a lot of weight on their shared dream. Too much weight. Somewhere along the line, “I want the World Cup” became “If Nagi’s at my side, we will win the World Cup”. Being partners until the end became so entangled with Reo’s dream that he can no longer separate the two. When Nagi leaves, Reo’s image of that finishing line crumbles. Iirc, he doesn’t even mention the World Cup as his goal anymore until Nagi comes back to him. When asked to put into words what he wants to achieve with his soccer, Reo tells Chris that he wants to go after goals alone. It’s only later, when Chris questions what happened to his solitary resolve in the wake of Reo’s restored friendship with Nagi, that Reo is like “well, my actual dream was the World Cup anyway, so this still counts.” 

That is both true and a deflection from the truth. Yes, Reo’s real goal has always been the cup… but he also subconsciously sees it as something inseparable from his promise with Nagi. He can’t have one without the other. Or he thinks he can’t, is the point. Partly because of that, and partly because Nagi is his best friend, Reo is very resistant to Agi’s criticism. The story’s trying to nudge Reo towards personal growth, telling him that the only way out of this impasse is to quit what isn’t working. However, because Reo’s meant to resist the themes of the story, the choices he makes are rarely the right ones. That is, the choices a real egoist would make in his place.

This isn’t anything recent, by the way. For this same reason, for example, winning Nagi's trust back becomes his main motivation to survive past the loss in the 3v3. By his own admission, Reo is the only guy in blue lock who not only has a safety net outside the program, but a very comfortable life to fall back on if a career in football doesn't work out for him. But when push comes to shove and he faces the chance of dropping out, Reo resolves to improve by thinking of Nagi and their shared dream.

Let’s compare that to Barou, who was similarly broken down and had to crawl his way up again. Barou goes the egoist way and finds his resolve within himself, vowing to double down on his king shtick and devour Isagi back. To Barou, the simple idea of passing a ball is akin to defeat. When he envisions a future of normalcy, with football as something to only watch on tv, Barou’s hunger to reign the field like a king rears its head again and motivates him forward. Reo, instead, never reaches a point where he embraces the series’ trademark selfishness. In fact, he does the opposite. When he vows to step up his game, he doesn’t do it because he thinks he’s the top dog like everyone else. The root of his despair is not a wounded pride, or a desire to prove himself further, to “devour” others back and rise to the top, but just the loss of his fix against boredom. Remember, chasing an exciting life is both Reo and Nagi’s main motivator so far. To put it simply, Reo doesn’t want what awaits him outside of blue lock. 

That’s the seed of his actual ego, by the way. Not the Cup, not making Nagi the best, but rather obtaining something by his own merit. But because of his reliance on Nagi (and Nagi’s on his), Reo hasn’t yet reached the point where he can realize this and use the knowledge to better his plays. In that sense, their partnership holds both of them back from exploring their inner motivations and individual strengths further.

And I said that this is instrumental to the kind of story Kaneshiro’s telling because it’s meant to show us all the ways a striker can’t be. This is not a manga where the power of friendship will get you anywhere. No matter how stubborn you get about having it your way, obstacles will materialize in your path and set you back the longer you refuse to play for your own sake. 

Yet, Reo doesn't want to advance in the program for the sake of becoming the world's best striker. He never did. He wants to move forward because Nagi left first, and he wants to meet him on the other side (quote, "beyond our dreams"). In other words, to return to being friends, even if he fears that Nagi might've replaced him with Isagi and "forgotten" about him. It doesn't have anything to do with soccer per se. It's more like Reo sees soccer as his chosen tool for self-determination. It was the trial to prove to himself, as well as his father, that his "worth" wasn't handed down to him by circumstance, but was inherent. He could achieve something worthwhile thanks to hard work, and not just reap the benefits of his last name. 

And the thing is…If he were literally anyone else, at this point he would’ve already channeled that into individualism, but because it’s Reo, he doesn’t. Despite possessing that seed of egoism, Reo doesn’t water it. His ambition doesn't make him an egoist in the way Ego Jinpachi intended, but instead becomes something that's meant to be carried by two people, contradicting the story.

Reo’s resolve is then always a bit off from falling in line with the rules of blue lock. Even when he gets something right, he does it for the wrong reasons, stumping his development. For example, his resolve after the 3v3 is both a step forward and two steps back. The positive is that he "engraved despair". He faced his shortcomings, realized his powerlessness, and took measures to improve to avoid being left in the dust again. The negative part is that being on his own should've given Reo a taste for real egoism, a hunger for self-reliance, but it does the opposite instead: it makes him long for what he had, and put all his willpower into restoring that partnership however he can. If the issue was that Nagi's improved enough to no longer be satisfied by the level of Reo's plays, then Reo's solution is to make his soccer exciting again in Nagi's eyes to, quote, "be enough to satisfy" him.

Because of that, however, the moment he has Nagi's trust back, their partnership back, Reo pretty much stops trying to improve. His chameleon style is still a go, but it becomes yet another tool to assist in Nagi's goals. It didn't start that way.

Initially, it was what Reo intended to use to score alone, remember?

Yet, even after coming up with a style that's solely his, that focuses on his strengths and brings no value to Nagi's, Reo keeps committing to stagnancy. In different but similar ways, both do. 

Teamwork and passive codependence are the two things Ego asked all the blue lockers to leave behind, but Nagi and Reo make it their job to bring typical shonen manga dynamics into a series that sets out to break from the norm. And that’s the point! 

In this sense, Reo is more at fault than Nagi, who instead realizes that sometimes being apart makes you better, and doesn’t mean the end of your friendship. If I were to pin down Nagi’s role in the narrative, then I’d say he’s meant to show that talent doesn’t equal success without discipline, self-awareness and determination. So the world’s best striker can’t just be good. He needs to know what he’s doing, and when and where he can do it to make the most of every play, since nothing happens by chance on the field. Whereas Reo’s role is that of showing us the mindset of a real striker. Because Reo enters the program without accepting or even understanding Ego’s rules, Reo’s faulty beliefs get challenged at every turn, with the author basically spoonfeeding us the correct path to soccer stardom. 

So in the end, since they struggle so much to even understand what they should be doing, their fumbling around makes it so the story goes more into depth about its own themes. Their job is to be incompetent, basically, but in a way that doesn’t rule out eventual growth. They just need to come to terms with the rules of the competition they entered first. So far, they’ve been content to just live in a bubble and coast through the increased stakes of the selection. If they’re serious about their dreams, however (and we’ve established that they are!), they will have to make a choice between what’s comfortable and what’s necessary. Cause, to quote Ego from epinagi chapter 2, in blue lock there’s no place for self-conscious babies who don’t want to ever get their feelings hurt. 

So what will they choose? Each other again, or the only way they can make it past blue lock and thus actually chase their dreams?