#it’s also been in the back of my head sometimes it feels like it’s almost in the center of my skull

[gglitch1dd]

An Angel

Middle School Midoriya Izuku x Middle School Reader

Context: You move to a new school and that's where you meet a skinny boy with wild green hair and hopeful but sad eyes.

Note: If there is one thing I do not believe in MHA its that Izuku was never poor or in the lower class before. I mean statistically speaking, this man grew up in a one parent household with only his mom. So that's what I'm gonna emphasis because japanese culture also shuns single parents (sometimes not all the times).

Warning: Bullying, assualt, canon typical violence, Izuku being a teenaged boy Katsuki’s mommy issues

Midoriya Izuku sat at the back of the class, scribbling on a new page of his notebook, softly mumbling to himself as he took the least presence in the room. He sat at the very back of the class, right in the middle where he could easily be forgotten. He preffered it that way. The more he was ignored, the less attention that would be on him, and the less Bakugou Katsuki would torment him so.

"Alright class, settle down, settle down." His home room teacher walked into the room, allowing the class to take their designated seats and focus on whatever announcements or notices would need to be heard. "Today we have a new student joining us, today." He spoke out loud, motioning to the door as a girl walked in. "Please introduce yourself."

Izuku raised his head to look up at you. You stood in the typical middle school girl uniform with your hands gripping your backpack. You smiled kindly as you bowed at the waist. "My name is L/N Y/N, it is a pleasure to meet you all. I can't wait to see what the rest of this year will be like with you." You straightened up your posture.

Izuku thought you liked nice, but then again, a lot of people looked nice and they were nowhere close to that. If you were nice, Izuku couldn't help but feel sorry for you. If there was one thing he hated about Aldera Junior High, it was Aldera Junior High. He put his head down, not wanting to get caught being interested in even talking to you.

You were directed to sit two seats away from him, to the left side of class close to the window.

Up until lunch, you seemed pretty nice. You managed to start talking to some of the girls in class and they seemed to find you funny. That was a good thing. As long as you stayed by the girls and you kept a low profile, Izuku thought you would do just fine.

Then came lunch. Izuku held his little bento box as he kept his head down, trying to make it to the outskirts of the cafeteria. That's all he had to do. Walk in a straight line and ignore everything and everyone.

You're almost there, Izuku. Just a few more-

"Well if isn't stupid Deku!" A hard hand came down on his shoulder making him jolt.

So close.

Bakugou Katsuki stood with a smirk on his face as he looked to the green haired boy. "I've been wondering where you've been Deku. You've been quiet all day!" He grinned as he leaned over on the smaller boy's shoulder.

Izuku swallowed down hard as he gripped his bento. He gave a timid smile. "Morning, Kacchan." He let out softly.

Katsuki's crimson eyes moved down to Izuku's bento. He raised an eyebrow. "What's this?" He peeled off the little sticky note ontop of Izuku's bento, making Izuku cringe. He told his mother not to put those anymore, not because he didn't like them (on the contrary, they were the rare things that made him smile in his day), but because Katsuki would find them. Katsuki's eyes skimmed over the note before an awe came out of his mouth. "Izuku's mommy loves him so much." He teased, Katsuki's stupid middle school friends snickered, encouraging his antics. "Did mommy make you this lunch, Izuku? Let me see!"

He snatched it out of Izuku's hands making the green haired boy's eyebrows furrow. "Give it back, Kacchan!" He reached out to try and get it but Katsuki's pushed his face away making him stumble back.

Katsuki opened it up. "Oh she made you little Onigiri with faces on it, and broccoli and even tamagoyaki!" Katsuki's mocking voice rang out. Izuku tried not to die of embarrassment as his face turned red as he looked at Katsuki. Katsuki's blood eyes stayed on Izuku before his humoured smile left his face. "Your mommy sure loves you huh? Would you eat anything she puts for you?" He asked moving to tip the lunch and let it all fall to the floor. Izuku frowned, knowing that would happen. "Would you even eat it when it's on the floor? Like the useless dog that you are?"

Izuku swallowed down hard but he kept his head up, looking at the blond boy with a scrunched up face in slight pain that he would do this, again and again, and again, and again.

Katsuki stared at Izuku unblinkingly. He threw the bento to the side on the floor and motioned to the ground where the contents of Izuku's lunch lay on the ground. "Eat it. Right on the floor, a perfect plate for a quirkless defect like you."

Izuku scowled, trying to will himself not to cry at all the attention on him and all the eyes and the giggling and pointing. He shook his head. "No."

Katsuki scoffed. He walked over to Izuku, and right before Izuku could bolt he grabbed his arm. With a tough grip, Katsuki moved to force Izuku down. "GRAB HIM!" Katsuki shouted at his friends who moved to hold down Izuku's body as Katsuki used his elbow to try and force Izuku's head down to the floor. Izuku tried to resist as best as he could, pushing back. Katsuki let out a loud laugh. "Come on Doggy Deku! Eat it! Eat your mommy's precious lunch!"

Suddenly the light on his neck was lighter and Katsuki was pushed off of him. Izuku noticed a pair of school shoes in front of him. His green eyes looked up to see you standing there, holding your own bento box as you stood with a scowl on your face. You put down your foot, having kicked the blond boy off of him.

You had a scowl on your face. "I hate bullies." You said as you turned to look at Katsuki's friends. Right before they could scramble away, letting go of Izuku, you kicked one on the back.

"Y/N!" Two girls from Izuku's class stood a bit away from you, with urgent looks in their eyes. "We told you not to interfere!

"Yah! Bakugou is going to-"

Katsuki let out a spit as he flicked his gaze up to you. He rolled his shoulder with a scoff as he got himself onto his feet again. "Well, aren't you bold for being the new bitch in school." You stood with a frown on your face.

You turned to ignore Katsuki all together. You offered him a hand with a gentle smile on your face. "Are you okay?" You asked him.

Izuku stared up at you, and for the first time in his life, he was sure that he saw an angel. He looked at your hand before taking it, allowing you to help him up.

Katsuki scowled at the fact that you were giving that stupid nerd attention and not him. His hands sparked in rage as he stomped over to you. "OI! YOU BITCH!" Just as he grabbed your back collar causing you to take a step back, you unleashed your quirk, pushing him back entirely.

Katsuki fell back onto the ground, shocked at the force that pushed him. Izuku's eyes widened in shock at you. You really were an angel.

Literally.

White feathered wings sat on your back, flared in anger as you stared down at the blond boy. You scrunched up your face in disgust. "The only bitch I see right now, is you, blondie." You stated as he sat on the ground as you stood above him with Izuku in hand. You rolled your eyes.

You took the green haired boys hand and pulled him out of the cafeteria, moving to leave all the other gaping idiots alone.

Izuku watched you with wide eyes as you pulled him out of the cafeteria to go eat lunch outside. He pulled him along and he didn't really mind. His green eyes moved down to where your hand held his.

Izuku's face burned red as he realised that this was a very important day in history.

Midoriya Izuku was holding a girl's hand for the first time.

Midoriya Izuku.exe has stopped working. Rebooting system now.

You finally found a place outside by a bench. You stopped with a sigh. "What a horrible group of people. Honestly. Who watches someone else get beaten down and says nothing." You shook your head in disappointment, turning around to look at the boy you had just saved. His eyes seemed spaced out and his face was red. "Are... Are you okay?" You asked worried. "Did he hit you in the head? Do you need a nurse?"

Izuku quickly shook his head out of it now that you had let go of him. He let out a nervous laugh as he looked away from you. "No! I'm fine, I'm totally fine. Honestly, I couldn't feel better! Haha! I mean honestly, why wouldn't I be fine! I just got saved by an angel and not many people can say that everyday. I should be thanking you. Your feet must not be okay, but me? I'm totally fine. Yep, fine, fine, fine. Couldn't be better and-"

Izuku stopped talking as he heard a giggle. His eyes widened as you put a hand to your mouth to hide your smile as you giggled at his rambling. In the sun, with your white pure wings out and a gorgeous smile on your face.

You really were an angel.

You lowered your hand. "Well I'm glad."

Izuku took a moment before smiling. He bowed at the waist towards you. "Thank you, for your help." He stated. "But you should really get going." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You're going to get bullied for helping me, or just staying with me in general. You seem like a wonderful person and I don't want that to happen to you." He said seriously with his eyebrows furrowed.

You paused for a moment before smiling. "I don't mind. I'd rather have lunch with you than those idiots." You motioned towards where you came from. Izuku let out a scoff but smiled gently. You motioned to the bench and you both sat down. You put down your lunch before noticing. "Oh no! You're lunch!" You said with a frown.

"It's okay." Izuku chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

"Please, have some of mine!" You motioned to your own bento box.

Izuku quickly shook his head. "No, I can't. Really, you need it. This has happened before, I'm used to it." He stated with a shrug as he looked down to where his red Jordans were planted on the dirt ground.

You frowned at that peice of news. "But... aren't you hungry?" You asked.

He froze at that question. He swallowed down hard, his fingers digging into the bench. In truth, Izuku barely ate the breakfast his mom made. To be fair, he knew she needed it more than he did. She worked all day for him, so he knew he could survive off of lunch and dinner. Although half the time his lunch would end up thrown out by Kacchan anyways.

He forced a smile to his face, a fake one that you could read all too well. "No." He shook his head. "I'm alright. Really."

You frowned. "You're all sticks and bones. What's your name?"

"Midoriya Izuku."

You smiled, before giggling. "I'm L/N Y/N. We're in the same home room class and for that," You stood up, placing your lunch on the bench as you shuffled with your wings, standing up and walking a few steps to the vending machine. "I'm buying you lunch."

Izuku's eyes widened as he stood up. "No, no, no. Please don't! Don't waste money on me." He denied quickly.

You shook your head. "Too late."

Before Izuku could step closer, your wings got into the way. His eyes widened in surprise. They were gorgeous. White and expansive, perfect in design.

You looked back and noticed your wings were still out. "Oh! Sorry about them. They kinda just do their own thing sometimes." Carefully, your wings folded back into you and you focused on the vending machine.

While Izuku focused on you and your quirk. He watched as your wings folded back into your skin, tears in your shirt left behind. He noticed marks, sort of like scars, where your wings would come out from. "Fascinating." He mumbled softly as he looked at your skin.

That's also when he noticed the straps of your bra.

Izuku tensed as his face burned red again. He quickly looked away from you entirely, trying so hard not too think too deeply about it. This was all too much for Izuku right now, too much in one day.

However he couldn't help but wonder...

You were really pretty. Like a girl out of a shonen... or a seinen.

He wondered how the front of your bra-

Izuku choked on air.

You turned to look at the green haired boy as you held the hot lunch from the vending machine. He was hitting his chest as he burned as red as a tomato. He kind of looked like a tomato, with his green hair. "Are you okay?" You asked concerned as you walked over to him.

He nodded his head as he hit his chest. "Yah, just-" He coughed. "Choked."

"On?"

"Spit." He coughed. He shook his head of the embarrasment. "Sorry." He apologised.

He knew he should stop being on his computer all day but damn was he this bad around girls? To be fair, he had never had a friend that was a girl. Girls typically seemed weirded out by him and he couldn't exactly blame him.

Izuku would much rather sit on his computer all day than play a sport.

And he wonders why he gets called an Otaku.

And is probably the reason why he's about to have a nosebleed at the thought of your bra.

"Here you go!" You handed him the hot lunch.

He looked down at it. "L/N, I really can't accept this."

"You can. It was just a thousand yen." (6 US dollars)

His eyes widened in shock, before turning to the vending machine. "A THOUSAND YEN! THAT'S A LOT OF MONEY!" He shouted as he looked back at you. "Please, take it back. I can't repay you."

"I don't want you to repay me." You giggled. "Just eat it and I'll be happy. Now sit and eat before it gets cold." You tugged him down to sit beside you.

It was a struggle to let Izuku eat, but when he finally did, he nearly downed the entire thing in under three minutes. You knew he was hungry.

So then you talked and you told him all about your quirk and the fact that you lived with the Hero Safety and Protection Commission. You also found out he was quirkless, and to Izuku's surprise, you found that cool. Just the fact that he was so rare as to not have a quirk. You could tell he didn't seem to like it but you tried to show him that he was a rare find.

You both went to go get you a new shirt from a teacher before getting back to class before the bell rang.

At the end of the day, you told Izuku you would see him later after you went to go find a club to join.

However, when you found him again, waiting at the bench that you ate at lunch, he was not how you left him.

You gasped. "Midoriya!" You shouted as you ran over to him. He had a bruised cheek as he stood with a soft smile at the sight of you. before he could speak, you quickly took his face. "What happened to you!?" You asked shocked.

"Nothing, just Kacchan got angry as usual." He stated gently as you looked him over.

You furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't know why you don't get mad at such a horrible boy." You stated as you looked over his face. "This is bad."

"This isn't bad. You should have seen him last week after he had a fight with his mom." He chuckled in a self deprecating way. "I was bruised all over after that one." He looked at your face and you weren't laughing. You frowned in deep concern. He cleared his throat, looking away from you.

You took his arm. "Mind if I take you home?"

His eyes widened. "No, but are you sure? I can always just take the bus. The bus driver is a good friend of mine."

You nodded your head as you opened the door to a black car that was waiting for you. You motioned for him to get in and then you. Izuku was as stiff as a board as he looked around at the clean interior of the car.

"Miss L/N." Sitting at the front was a man with sunglasses on.

"Afternoon Fujihara. This is my friend, Midoriya. Do you mind if we take him to go get healed up before taking him home?" You asked the officer in charge of you.

He shook his head, driving the car forward. "What happened?" He asked, not ever really having a smile on his face but you could tell by a frown that he wasn't pleased for this being your first day at school.

"He got ganged up on by bullies." You said with a frown on your face. Fujihara didn't say anythign but gave a curt nod.

Izuku sat as straight as ever, trying to not make a mess of anything. In truth that is exactly what you did. You took him to an impressive building that you apparently lived in, and you took him to someone with a healing quirk before taking him back home.

You left him with a wave, promising to see him tomorrow, before disappearing back into the car and driving away.

Izuku entered his apartment, taking off his shoes as he walked inside. A note from his mother at the entrance small round table telling him that she would be working late today as well.

He smiled gently as he walked further inside, taking off his gakuran and putting his empty bento box in the sink.

Midoriya Izuku promised himself he would never forget this day. The day he got saved by an angel.

-Glitch1d

[dwaekkicidal]

heyyy! just wanted to say i LOVED ur “much needed reminder” fic. i was wondering if u could do a fic for han? an “best friends older brother” or “older brothers best friend” type of thing. kind of specific but also with spit kink involved? just an ask!! 🤍🤍🐿️🐿️

hi!! I'm glad you enjoyed it :'''') it's actually one of the fics I'm least confident about haha.. anyways, hope you enjoy!! <3

Anime Night

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: You join your older brother and his best friend Jisung on their weekly anime night. But the younger boy seems to have other plans with yoy besides watching anime.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~2.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem reader, reader is Minho's younger sister, voyeurism, fingering, spit kink(hope i did it justice ><), kinda but not really rough sex?, accidental creampie, oh and you know what’s also so hot that isn’t blatantly mentioned? CONSENT. Wowowowow so sexy. You should make sure you practice consent. :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i wrote this in a college pov where everybody still lives with their parents (so reader and min live together with their parents and ji lives with his parents but they’re in school)

Sorry if the end was too rushed <3 I'm in a lot of back pain so i don’t feel like i proofread it well lol

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Pleeeeease!!! You always hog him to yourself! I want to hang out with Sungie too!” Your arms cross over your arm and you angrily pout. You hear the sweet laugh of the boy in question, but you stay focused on your older brother in front of you.

“Yeah, no shit. ‘Cause he’s my friend?” He rolls his eyes, continuing to carry multiple bags of chips to the living room while Jisung follows behind closely with popcorn. “You’re just gonna bother him. AND me for that matter.”

“I don’t care. He would be my friend too if you weren’t such a little bitch about it.” Minho’s eyes narrow at you and you stick your tongue out at him, flipping him the bird for good measure. He makes a disgusted face in response and you watch as his lips part to say something only for Jisung to interrupt him through laughs.

“It’s okay, hyung, she can join. She won’t bother me I promise.”

Minho turns to his friend with an uncertain look on his face, almost denying the boy and resisting even farther until the boy smiles at him cutely.

“Ugh. Fine.. But she’s eating out of your snacks. NOT mine!!”

You squeal and run up to your brother, giving him a hug before running off to your room to change. “THANKS MINNIE!!”

You return shortly after in your favorite pajama shorts and shirt set, happily skipping down the hallway towards the living room again. You stop in your tracks at the sight of Jisung, his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he focuses on the streaming service. You realize you must have been staring for a while because he turns to you curiously, smiling and giggling when a blush forms on your face.

He’s sat in the middle of the couch, and he welcomingly pats the seat to his left with a soft smile. You smile back and nod, taking your seat and leaning your head on his shoulder. Your brother and him have been friends for a long time, so it’s not weird that you cuddle up to the younger boy. Sometimes even cuddling up to both of them when Min was in the right mood. So he leans back onto you, allowing you both to enjoy the warmth before you hear Minho’s footsteps returning. The younger boy looks down at you with a slight frown when you move away to grab your drink from Minho, but quickly forgets about it when a blanket is thrown at the back of his head.

“YA!”

After the two boys spend a few minutes bickering back and forth, they settle down and watch the show’s intro begin. The two of them sing the intro together, dramatically clutching each other, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You whisper a quiet “Dorks” under your breath and lean back into the couch to enjoy the rest of the intro.

Once the episode is finally starting, Minho hands you a bag of chips he knows you like and Jisung flings a blanket across both his and your lap. You thank them both, smiling to yourself and losing yourself in the animation.

It’s not long until you feel a cold hand ghost along your thigh. You acted normal on the outside and screamed internally until the hand stops to rest along your inner thigh. He feels you tense up and almost pulls his hands away, but then your thighs instinctively clench, unintentionally squeezing his hand between your thighs. In his peripheral vision, he sees you biting your lip with a small blush and it only gives him more confidence to move forward.

Throughout the years he had never gone this far. Only ever putting an arm around your shoulder in situations when he felt the need to protect you from other men people. His fingers stroke the inside of your thigh for some time, soothingly squeezing it anytime your legs jerked out of anxiety. As the episode goes on, his hand moves farther and farther up your thigh until he’s eventually tracing the hem of your underwear.

By the time the next episode is starting, your breaths have become heavy and your panties are sticking to your pussy. You swear he can tell. And you don’t mean to be getting horny like this, but when his hand keeps moving farther up your thigh with every celebration or booing of a scene, you can’t really help it.

About 10 minutes into the 2nd episode you feel his fingers breach your underwear. The tips of his fingers start to rub small circles onto your clit and it has you keening into your hand. You whip your head towards him and expect to see him looking at you, but instead you're met with his face still glued towards the screen, an amused grin now covering his features. The fingers on your clit push down harder and you sigh quietly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues to mindlessly draw random shapes onto your sensitive bud.

Suddenly the sound of both men laughing out loud catches you off guard, your legs clamp shut around his hand in fear of being caught. He quickly pinches your inner thigh and you hesitantly open your legs again for him. Your eyes dart to Minho and you’re thankful for his eyes still being glued to the screen.

“Jisung…” You moan against his arm, attempting to get a little bit of his attention, but he silently puckers his lips to shush you. You frown and one of his fingers move down to slide against your folds, gathering and spreading your wetness before shoving itself into your warmth.

Your head rolls until it’s resting against the back cushion of the couch and he struggles to hold back a grin. You faintly hear them start discussing a fight scene that just happened, but your mind is so focused on the now two fingers that are slowing fucking you open so you don’t process any of it. You feel yourself getting closer and closer as the episode goes on, but when you feel yourself start to come undone Minho suddenly jumps to his feet.

Jisung’s hands fly away from you and you both look up at the oldest with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, very thankful for the way he is stretching his body and not paying any attention to either of you. “Alright, I’m heading to sleep. I bought the snack so I’m leaving the cleaning to you guys.” He sticks his tongue out before literally running off to his room.

The two of you sit there in silence, your heavy breathes filling the air as your hearts beat out of your chests. A nervous laugh from him breaks the silence, “That was scary as fuck.” The sudden speaking almost scares you shitless but it pulls a giggle from you and you nod in agreement, “Yea… holy shit.” He looks over at you and smiles, but suddenly rises to his feet and throws the blanket off of your lap, grabbing at the elastic of your shorts. You’re given no time to react before he pulls your underwear and shorts off in one swoop and throws them on the floor next to him.

“W-Wait! Ji?!?” You hissed and clamped your legs shut, “He’s gonna hear us!”

“That’s.. kinda the point? ‘M tired of hiding how hard you make me. Need you to finally be my pretty thing.” Your glossy eyes look up at him, and he feels his heart skip a beat when you make a sad face. “W-What?”

“Haha I thought it was obvious that I liked you? Now let me make you mine, ‘kay?” His voice gets deeper as he leans in, finally pushing his lips against yours. He uses the distraction to spread your legs apart, pushing them up so he can pull your ass to the edge of the couch. You take advantage of the new closeness and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

He spreads you wider, trailing his hand back to your folds and running his fingers through them teasingly. You gasp into his mouth when two of his fingers sink back into you, starting off at a fast pace as they try to bring you back to the orgasm you got denied.

He pulls away for a moment and leans his forehead against yours, “Fuck, my baby…You look so pretty like this. You’re fucking perfect… I need you so bad.” You whine at the sudden praise and bite his lip desperately, wanting him to kiss you again. He moans loudly and you swear you can see his dick twitch against his sweats.

You watch in awe as he backs away from your face, allowing a big glob of spit to fall from his pretty pink lips that lands perfectly on your clit and trails down along your folds. You moan embarrassingly loud at the sight and he only smirks before putting his fingers back to work. His lips find yours again and his tongue trails along your bottom lip, pushing in and sloppily making out with you until he feels you clench around his fingers.

You pull away to throw your head back when his fingers start to move faster, gasping as your orgasm starts to hit you like a bus. Nothing but squelching sounds fill the living room as he finger fucks you through your high. He doesn’t stop for a while, and he honestly would have pushed you to cum again like this but you push him away in need of a breather.

You lift your head in time to see him shove his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. “As much as I wanna see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I think we can save that for next time. I need to fuck you right now or else I’ll actually fucking die..”

You laugh breathlessly and watch as he shoves his sweats down, not even bothering to take them off all the way before he pulls his dick out. You moan softly as he spits on your folds again and runs his tip through the wetness repeatedly. He only finally pushes in when you playfully smack his shoulder with a whine, and the stretch pulls a sigh from both of your lips, followed by a low growl from him. He thrusts a few times to test the waters before quickening his thrusts and pulling desperate moans from you that only egg him on, pushing him to slam his hips into yours even harder as he almost forgets about the boy down the hall.

“Shhhhh, you gotta stay quiet baby... If Min wakes up then I can’t keep fucking you.” He says so convincingly until he starts pounding into you roughly, pulling even louder sobs from your mouth. Your legs are quickly thrown over his shoulders and he doesn’t let up even once, instead watching with a sinful smirk as your fingers claw into the couch below you.

He fuck you like this until you start to clench around him, his eyes always shooting back and forth between your face and where he’s entering you. “Look at me, pretty baby. Open your mouth for me okay?” You open your mouth and stick your tongue out in response while holding eye contact, and he leans forward to allow more spit to fall from his mouth. This time it lands on your tongue, and he doesn’t even have to ask before you’re obediently swallowing.

His eyes roll into the back of his head and you feel his hips stutter against yours, “Fuck… Baby ‘m not gonna last. Especially when you’re so sweet..” 

“J-Ji, please.. Love you-“

“I love you too baby. Now be good and cum for me, okay?” One of his hands goes down to messily rub back and forth on your clit and it sends you over the edge. You find yourself hiding in his neck and moaning against the skin there in an attempt to quiet your moans.

Then like that, you’re coming hard around him. He follows not long after, whining praises into your ear as he slows his thrusts. He moans lowly against your shoulder as he fills you to the brim, enjoying the warmth of it all until your voice breaks the silence.

“Fuck! Ji.. you came inside!” You hissed out, trying to keep your voice down while still out of breath.

He smirks down at you, pulling out and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he backs away. “Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself. Don’t worry about it right now. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed before Min comes out here and kills me.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[magics-neptunes-things]

Cheetah

Hello everyone!

So for once this isn't a request, but more something who was walking in my head rent free and I just had to write it.

I don't know a lot about motorcycle to be honest but i made some research, so if there is some incoherence, I'm sorry!

Also I start to translate the English in Spanish before stopping, because in the end almost everyone is supposed to talk in Spanish and I'm really bad at it (I only can command something to eat and drink).

Please let me know what you think about it and enjoy ♥

TW : Moto accident, Angst, Injuries and a little bit of autodestruction maybe.

“Come on Cheetah, everyone’s waiting for you!”

You sigh softly, putting the picture you were looking at in your bag. It’s a picture of your ex-girlfriend and yourself, during your happy days. It’s been three months since the breakup and you are still mourning the end of your relationship like if it was the first hours. You still feel numb and if like someone is constantly crushing your heart in their iron grip. It’s not getting better, and it probably never will. Ona was, is, the love of your life and it’s just impossible for you to recover from it.

Falling for Ona was easy. You met her when you were both 20, even if you come from Palma de Mallorca and not Barcelona. You are a athlete too, so it wasn’t hard to cross her path at one of the Spanish awards. Patri Guijarro was there too and like you she comes from Mallorca, so she introduced you both and the rest is history.

When Ona moved to Manchester, you follow her. You find a team to train your motorcycle and your skills there. You were still young but promising on the circuit and you didn’t have trouble the find someone to help you getting better. And better you get. Just like Ona in Manchester United, you easily improve your skills and became one of the best in the world. Sure, you were sometimes away from home and Ona for your competitions, but everything was perfect.

When Ona came back to Barcelona, you flow back with her too. Some of your team came with you, some other didn’t but you can’t hold it against them. You find people to replace them and continue to race on the top of the leader boards.

The breakup didn’t come from nowhere, you can’t say that. You knew how much Ona was worried when you race, scared that you hurt yourself. You never had a big injury until now. But just after Christmas, you were implicated in an accident and Ona had trouble to concentrate in something else than that since that day.

It wasn’t your fault honestly; you just weren’t able to avoid the motorcycles already lying on the road. So, you made a gliding flight and had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, nothing too serious. But Ona was in Barcelona while you were in Qatar, and it took almost two hours for you to be able to call her, even if you make everything possible to have your phone back.

That’s what pushed Ona to break up with you.

“I can’t keep focusing on your future death while I’m in training or supposed to be concentrated on something important, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” was what she told you.

Can you blame her? No. Did she told you it was because she doesn’t love you anymore? No. Did you try everything to make her change her mind? Yes. You even told her that you will stop your sport. But she’s not with you anymore and it hurt like hell.

“Hi Cheetah!” make one of your opponent when you arrive in the garage, where the motorcycles are stored.

“Hola” you mumble back.

Cheetah is your nickname, because of your speed and the feline way you stand on your bike. But it’s especially Ona’s favorite animal. You wonder if she’s still looking at your race sometimes. Probably not. You never asked Patri who became your friend with the years, the girl never talked about your breakup either. You like it that way.

One hour after, you are on your bike, ready to start your race. Your helmet is a notch off from what security recommends, but you prefer to wear it like that. Ona had forbidden you to do so and you had accepted her request without flinching. But Ona isn’t here anymore, and you have no one to care about.

Well, your brother who is in your team maybe. And probably your parents, but even if you love them, they aren’t Ona.

The qualifying rounds put you in fourth place at the start, but after a daring overtaking you manage to get gain the third place. The weather is great honestly, a little bit sunny maybe but it’s better than the rain. You are in Italy after all.

The fight for the second place is hard, your opponent always manages to stand in your way to keep you from reaching it. It starts to frustrate you, even if your team keeps telling you in the helmet to take no risks. You don’t listen to them, still being careful not to make faults though, you don’t want to have any penalty against you.

“Lenta, hermanita por favor!” (Slower, my little sister please!)

You hear your brother’s voice but don’t listen to him either. He will probably kill you for it after the race , but if you manage to get the second place, it’s worth it right? Winning is the only thing that you have left. The only thing that makes you feel a little alive.

That’s why you don’t hesitate to take other risks to get the second place. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

It’s the first time since you’re a teenager that you lose the control of your motorcycle, but it’s a strange feeling. You feel yourself flying and the helmet getting ripped off your head during the crash. After that it’s all black, you just have little moments of consciousness from time to time.

“No no no no no! ¡ Y/N No me hagas esto! Respira por favor!” (Don’t do that! Breath please!”)

That’s your brother voice. You don’t know where you are, you hear people screaming and probably running next to you. But you are too tired. Falling asleep now probably will help you feel better, right?

“Sigue luchando. Piensa en Ona." (Keep fighting. Think about Ona.)

Ona? You think about her every single second of the day. You are surprised by this statement, but it has the advantage to wake you up a little. Your brother usually never mention your ex-girlfriend, knowing how much the breakup is destroying you.

“Alright we take her to the ambulance, now!”

If you were able, you probably would have rolled your eyes because of the strength that this man screamed with. You are not even able to open your eyes though, and you hate the way you feel your body not responding to what you want. But your head hurt and soon you are asleep again.

The next time you are awake, it was way quiet. You hear your parents and your brother, but you have to make a big effort to understand what they are saying.

“She called her name several times in the ambulance, but she’s asleep since”

Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s useless to wonder which name you called, there only is one woman in your head after all.

“Did you call her?”

Your mother.

“No. Y/N would have probably hated me if I did.”

Is he right? Maybe. You’ll think about it later.

“She has the right to know how Y/N is.”

Point for your father.

“I’ll call Patri instead.”

Well, it’s probably better that way. Patri is one of your best friends and if Ona wants to have news of you, she will ask Patri. But once again, she probably has no interest about your health anymore.

You fall back asleep again soon after that.

Patri’s face is white when she reaches the gym of FC Barcelona Femeni. It’s not Ona who realized it first, your ex-girlfriend is focused on her exercises next to Mariona.

“Patri you alright?” Pina asks, looking at her friend with worry.

Everyone raises their gaze on the girl, but she’s only looking at Ona. And Ona knows, right there. She gulps and stand up, her hand shaking.

“What happened?” Ona asks quietly.

But Patri takes her by the hand to take her out. She doesn’t want to explain to Ona what happened in front of the others. She doesn’t know how the younger one will react at the news, and she’s scared of her reaction to be honest. Every single person in the team know how much Ona is sad about your breakup, even if she’s the one who chose to have it that way.

“Y/N had an accident during the race” Patri starts, looking at Ona with attention. “I don’t know what her injuries are or anything else. But she has that awful crash, and they came with the ambulance and those kinds of white curtains.”

Ona knows what the curtains are for. It’s to protect the dignity of the runner in the case of a serious injury… or worse. Very worse. Her face passes from white to green.

“Is there a video from the crash?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”

But Ona doesn’t listen. Like you, she’s stubborn. She wants to know. She needs to know. She doesn’t know when the accident happened, but the video of it is easy to find on social media. She doesn’t react at all during several seconds and Patri wondered if Ona’s mind crashed, too.

“She loosened her helmet” Ona whispers at first.

“What?” Patri frowned.

“She loosened her helmet! She loosened her helmet and now she’s probably dead!”

Ona’s shouting and Patri prefer that, but it’s surprising. Ona isn’t the kind of girl who shout usually. She puts a comforting hand on Ona’s arm before talking.

“We don’t know that for now” she tries, with a comforting voice.

“Haven’t you seen the crash? Haven’t you seen of hard her head hit the ground? She didn’t move after that! At all!”

Patri doesn’t know what to answer at that. Ona’s right and she regrets to have inform her so soon, without having news of you. Or your brother, who had kind of a crush for Patri before realizing that she’s as gay as you are. You still tease him about it years later.

“I’ll try to call her brother, ok? But for now, let’s get out of here.”

When you wake up next time, you have enough strength to be able to open your eyes. You don’t know what time it is, but the sun is shining behind almost closed blinds. There is someone on a chair next to you, but you are disappointed to realize that it’s only your brother. Not Ona.

“Hola” he whispers when he realizes that your awake.

You only answer with a grunt, unable to talk for now. You feel sleepy again, but you want to talk with him a little bit.

“We are at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You close your eyes briefly to make him understand that you remember. Your throat feels too scratchy to talk for now. You’ll learn later that they have to intubate you to keep you alive.

“You’re lucky you’re alive, I’ll kill you a second time if you weren’t. They want to get you back in Barcelona tonight, are you okay with that?”

You don’t answer right away. Why can’t they keep you here?

“The team think it would be easier to be somewhere where they speak Spanish. And we will be closer to Mama and Papi.”

Your brother seems to understand your questions. It’s a great thing that you are both so close. You close your eyes again now and he nods before taking your hand in his. You don’t really care where you are taking care off after all.

“You can sleep now. You need to rest to get better, ok?”

You squeeze his finger softly before closing your eyes for good now, falling asleep again. You are still asleep during the transfer to Barcelona and when you wake up again you are in the Spanish’s city hospital.

Once again, it’s your brother who is here when you open your eyes. He changed his clothes but he’s still here, reading a newspaper with his feet on your bed.

“Don’t you have a house?” you groan.

He rolls his eyes after having looked at you for two seconds. Maybe to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. He threw carefully the journal next to you without putting his feet down, but everything is still blur.

“I can’t read it” you whisper.

“The Spanish’ motorcycle prodigy almost died in an awful crash yesterday. Her condition remains alarming” your brother read for you.

He’s angry. You don’t answer anything, what should you say anyway? You know that it’s your fault, if you were a little more careful nothing of that would have happened. You know too that you aren’t on the point to die, your brother wouldn’t have scolded you if that was the case.

“What are my injuries?” you ask without looking at him.

He sighs loudly before answering.

“You have broken ribs, a broken tibia, your cheekbone too, your elbow is in pieces, your shoulder has been dislocated again and you have a massive concussion. They thought that you have something broken in your spine, but it’s just a massive bruise. Oh, and you have other bruises almost on every part of your body, when it’s not burn because of the asphalt. They had to put stitches somewhere on your head and your brow bone too.”

you stay silence for several seconds, completely stunned. These are massive injuries, you know it. It will probably need a lot of time to heal all of them and that mean that you will miss the end of the championship. You were on the top 3, and it’s an awful disillusionment for you. You were already picturing yourself on the podium at the end of the season.

“How many time am I supposed to stay in bed? Before starting my rehab?”

He frowns softly, not expecting this question.

“They don’t know for now if you elbow will be well enough to start racing again”

“Of course it will be” you snort.

“No” your brother answer. “It’s serious, Y/N. You maybe won’t be able to drive a motorcycle again. On a circuit at least.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t have the choice. This is all I have left now.”

Your breakup was awful for you, but it was for your family too. You weren’t always careful with you, but Ona pushed you to be reasonable and stayed in the track. Now you don’t have anyone to hold you back. Ona was the only one you were listening. You don’t listen to anyone now. Only your Abuela when she when she emotional blackmails you. But your loved ones try not to use that card too much to not burn it.

“You have to stop that. You still have people who care for you. The Oldies do, I do, your friends do. I know that the breakup sucks, but you can’t play with your life like you do.”

“Piss off” is all you mumble back.

Because you know he’s right, but what are you supposed to do now that he’s here with you and you would give ten years of your life to swap him with Ona? He doesn’t answer anything, knowing that you’re out of arguments and that you know he’s right.

“Did she… Did she call you?”

“She didn’t have to” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I called Patri as soon as we were in your hospital room in Italy.”

This hurt a little more, to be honest. You are not aware that Ona was with Patri every time she received a call or a message from your brother. You sight softly before closing your eyes. Your head starts to hurt like hell, which is probably normal for a concussion.

You wake up several hours later and you already know that it’s the night. There isn’t any noise coming from outside your room and no light from outside. But there is someone sitting on the chair next to you.

“Ona?”

It’s seems almost impossible, but it’s definitively Ona. You are able to recognize her silhouette in the dark after all these years passed with her. Even if you haven’t seen her in the last three months.

“It’s worse than anything” she mumbles, looking somewhere near your broken leg.

“What?”

“Not knowing how you are. I thought that break up with you will help me to stop worrying about your races, but it’s worse every time. I almost called you or messaged you before every race just to hear your voice, but I just couldn’t. And then I learned about your accident, and I have to live with the thought that you were dead for several hours.”

She raises her eyes on you, and you have trouble to support her gaze, even if you are in the dark.

“I’m sorry” you finally say.

“Really?”

She seems unconvinced and she has every right to be. She knows you, better than anyone.

“Well, I’m sorry that you were worried because of me. But as you see, I’m alive.”

She rolls her eyes and let her back go against the chair she is sitting on. You still feel strange, without knowing if it’s because of the drugs or because you are dreaming. You don’t have really anything to lose, so you ask.

“Is it real life?”

Ona looked at you with an obvious surprise on her beautiful face. God you missed her so damn much.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it real or am I dreaming?”

“Are you making the move where you ask me if I am an angel?”

You stupidly laugh before regretting it, your ribs protesting hardly. Ona seems alarmed when you groan in pain, putting your non-injured hand on it.

“I’m ok” you whisper, taking several small breaths, the big one would have been too hurtful.

“You are not” Ona mumbles.

She’s right.

“It’s less painful than the thought that I lost you.”

She sighs once again and looks at her fingers before shaking her head softly. You wanted to grab her hand, but she’s on your bad side and your arm is in that awful cast.

“Tell me what I have to do to have a second chance, Oni. I’ll do every single thing you’ll ask me. I swear. Please” you beg when she stays silence for several seconds.

“What if I ask you to stop your stupid moto?”

There is a challenge in her voice, and you know why. One time, she told you that she’s not even sure that if she asks you to choose between her and your sport, you’ll chose her. At that time, you didn’t know that she was serious, you thought that it was something she wasn’t thinking and said due to the fight. How wrong you were.

“I’ll do it” you answer without any doubt.

She seems surprised, looking at you with two big eyes. You have always loved Ona’s eyes, some people said that brown eyes are the most common and expressionless. They never have crossed Ona’s gaze.

“I saw what a life without you is Ona and I don’t want that life. I want you and if I have to stop my sport, I’ll do it if you still want me.”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. She seems tired to be honest, but maybe because it’s the middle of the night and that she’s supposed to be asleep right now.

“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I still do and I think I will for all my life. I need you to be a part of my life too.”

Her words are melody in your ears, but you feel like there still is something else. Like if something was restraining her.

“But…?” you mumble, looking for her eyes.

“But I can’t continue like this. I thought you were dead.”

She’s crying now and your heart hurt like if someone just punch it. You move in the bed, trying desperately to touch her or anything to try to comfort her. Your ribs and your legs burn awfully, and you ignore your elbow hurting in protest.

“Ona I’m so sorry, I swear” you say, managing to take her hand in yours.

The position is awful, and you wonder briefly if you can throw up even if you haven’t eaten anything since almost two days.

“I didn’t think it will hurt you that way. Please don’t cry” you continue.

She shakes her head softly, kind of laughing between her tears.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you left me. And you blocked me everywhere.”

That point hurts, too. You weren’t even able to look at her social media to have news of her, you were reduced to follow fan’s account of her.

“I just couldn’t live with you popping randomly on my timelines. It hurts too much every time.”

You nod and that the gesture who make your position too hurtful. You roll on your back, trying to hold your whine of pain. But Ona sees it anyway and frown almost instantly.

“Do you want me to call them to have more painkillers?”

“Are they ok with you being here? I don’t want them to make you leave” you admit with a law voice.

There is a beam of silence.

“I won’t leave your side” she says in a comforting voice.

You want to believe that she means it for like all your life. But having her tonight is what you have best for now. So, you nod, closing shortly your eyes when she rings the nurses. The door is open only a minute after and you open your eyes again when you hear Ona’s voice.

“I think she’s ready for more painkillers” the brunette says.

“I will give some to you” the nurse says to you before adding something in your intravenous. “What hurts?”

“Everything” you admit softly.

She nods and gives you a smile in sympathy. You look at her doing her things, missing Ona’s small winces at your admission. The nurse starts to talk again when she’s at the door, ready to leave.

“You will feel better like this. After that it will be great if you try to eat something. You will be sleepy for now though.”

Your eyes fly to Ona who is already looking at you. She said that she will stay by your side, but does she meant while you sleep too? She probably has training or somewhere to go. A match to play? You don’t know which day is it anymore, the painkillers are starting to kick already, making you confuse.

“Ona” you manage to say.

“Sleep, Hermosa. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”

Two weeks after, you are finally leaving the hospital. You still have to leave in a wheelchair, much to your disappointment. But with almost half of your body injured, there is no way that you are able to walk with crutches.

The only positive thing is that the person who is pushing the wheelchair is Ona and that she managed to make it funny, sliding on it in the hospital’s floor. Your brother is following with your suitcases, smiling softly while watching both of you.

After learning that you will be alright, you parents went home in Mallorca two days before you were authorized to go home. They proposed to you to come back to Mallorca with them and you have to admit that you miss your island, but there is no way that you are somewhere Ona isn’t.

When you felt better, you had a very intense and long discussion about your relationship, both of your feelings, what you both expect from that said relationship and where you want it to go.

Ona is the one who will look after you on daily basis, but sometimes your brother will need to take you to your appointment when Ona is away or training. The end of the season is soon here, but there still is the Olympics this Summer so she has to prepare herself intensively.

Your girlfriend’s here, one month after, when you are in the doctor’s office for the worst moment of your professional life. Sitting next to you, she’s holding your hand when the doctor looks at you with an awful sorry face.

“I don’t know where to start” he begins, playing with the sheets on his desk.

“Just go straight into it, Doc” you sigh softly.

You know already that you will hate what is going to be say. Ona’s fingers stroking your hand help, but your heart is still beating faster than ever.

“You are making good progress, I saw that they removed your cast on your feet, but we are really concerned about your elbow. We don’t think it will be fit enough for you to be able to start motorcycle in a professional way anymore.”

You were waiting for it, but it’s still hurt to hear that. Motorcycle is the only thing you knew since you were a teenager, you never thought about doing anything else in your life. You swallow softly before passing a hand on your face. You did everything you can to be able to start again, followed every advice your team gave you. But it’s not enough.  

“I don’t know what to say” you finally mumble, looking at an imaginary point somewhere on the desk. “It’s all I know; I don't know how to do anything else.”

“I can pick you an appointment with our psychotherapist if you want to. It can help.”

“Can we leave? I’ll tell you if I want one”

For now, you just want to get out of this office and be able to breath some fresh air. Ona helps you to get up even if you don’t need help anymore. You suppose it’s a way to comfort you. You are glad for her. She doesn’t say anything while you are getting out of the building, but she doesn’t let your hand go when you lean against the railing once outside.

“What am I going to do, Ona?” you whisper softly.

She let go of your hand now, but it’s only to pass her arm around your waist and hold you close.

“Whatever you want mi Amor. It’s ok not to know now, but you still have a bunch of possibilities. We will figure it out together, yeah?”

She kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes, letting yourself being cuddle a little more. It’s not the same feeling that the one when you lost Ona. You know there is different exit doors, you just have to find the good one. Ona will be your light in the dark.

Several weeks later, you are in France. Not for a race, but for playing the WAG for your girlfriend who is playing the final today. She introduces you to others girlfriends/wife of her teammates and you get along great with everyone. You watched every single game in the stadium, and you were able to see Ona several times in between. You missed her and she was worried sick to let you alone at home, but you are pretty fine.

You are famous in the world of sport so it’s not a surprise that you are not able to skip some interviews while going to the stand to attend the finale.

“Y/N” said one journalist when he puts her microphone under your mouth, with an awful French accent. “You announced your retirement sooner this month because of your massive injuries. How are you feeling?”

“I’m still sad about it, of course. It wasn’t my choice and I think it makes it harder but I didn’t have the choice. I’m sad not to be able to finish the championship this year, I was really well ranked, but you know…”

You shrug, thinking that’s between his accent and yours, people on social media will have a great fun.

“Do you think you will come back in the motorcycle world one day?”

“Not as a racer obviously, but why not. I still need to figure what to do with my life, but first I have to heal correctly.”

“Thanks for your answers” he smiles. “Do you have a favorite for today?”

“Spain, obviously” you smile back.

“Have you a favorite player?”

You almost roll your eyes at that. Your relationship with Ona is a common knowledge for everyone, you are not hiding yourself. You both weren’t as famous before and you were posting without really thinking about it.

“Oh, I don’t know… Number two is pretty great” you smirk, looking at the jersey you are wearing.

You hear someone giggle in the background, and you are pretty sure to recognize Irene’s wife waiting for you with Mateo. You soon say goodbye to the journalist to find your place in the stand. You are sitting next to Ona’s family obviously and your family made the travel too. They are sitting next to other Majorcans people, Cata’s family and Mariona’s brother and mother aren’t far away neither.

When Ona smiles at you during the national anthem after looking around to find you, you smile back and say “T’estimo” to her. You know that she can’t hear you, but she easily can read it on your lips.

You don’t know what the results of this game will be, like you don’t know what you will do in several months. But you know you will be fine, because you will be with her.

Ona is your forever and you don’t want another.

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part two

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pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: with big decisions to make, life throws you a curveball that leads you to joel again word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied, boyfriend is still useless & also a prick, minor injury & blood, my car knowledge™️, bit of a cry & breakdown sesh, age gap (23/50), smutty thoughts, allusions to f masturbation a/n: thank you @frannyzooey for all the help & encouraging words when reading this over 😚❤️

A month has passed since you first met Joel Miller and you haven’t gone to see him since. You certainly wanted to, but couldn’t bring yourself to go there under the excuse of a lie, or the alternative of admitting you went just because you could. Every time you turn your car’s ignition, a small part of you hopes that another light will flicker on the dashboard, but so far that dream hasn’t been fulfilled.

A month since you met Joel Miller but three months since you and Jake last slept together. The few times you’ve come close, you end up giving him an excuse. At first, you simply couldn’t be bothered to put so much effort in, claiming you were tired. But lately, it’s because you’re thinking of Joel — what it’d look like having his hand dipping into your panties, how his mouth would feel on you, how you’d burn up watching him take himself out his pants.

Which is not ideal when Joel isn’t the one trying to do those things.

Jake’s been putting more pressure on you to see him more regularly again and it’s laborious, draining, constantly needing to put on this cheerful persona around him — you’re never able to mope around or yell or cry just for the sake of it. Truthfully, you’ve been trying to work out for a long time now how to go about breaking up with him.

His reaction to why you had quit your job had catapulted this even further. I’m sure the guy was a deserving candidate. You can’t just quit because someone better than you got the job. Not asking how you felt, not asking for details, simply not caring. He still had the nerve to ask if you were staying the night after that, and that’s when you dropped the conversation. Your employment hadn’t been brought up again.

As brief as it was, you found great comfort in talking to Joel about it — not once did he tell you you’d made a mistake, or that you’d regret it down the line. Just knowing he’s there to listen is more than what you have right now. 

Maybe you should stop by sometime.

-

You have plans to see Jake tonight, and you’re undecided on whether or not you should finally cut ties with him. You’re dressed in a square-neck navy top and black pants that hug your hips and thighs amazingly. Sure, you might end the night by breaking a boy’s heart — though, you’re not sure he’ll feel much emotion other than confusion — but this might be the one thing that’ll keep you feeling good about yourself right now.

Stopping off to get a few small items at the grocery store, the parking lot is mostly empty by the time you walk out. As you reach your car again, you see one of your back tires is almost completely flat. Dropping your bags, you seethe with anger – it feels like one fucking thing after another. 

Taking a breath, you calm yourself down and start unpacking the toolkit from your boot. Car jack, lug wrench, some… other tool that’s used for something — it can’t be that important. You run the process over in your head — it’s just changing a tire, how difficult can it be?

Crouched down on your knees, you’ve partially loosened the lug nuts on the wheel and are busy jacking up your car when your mind drifts off to Joel. He’d probably do this for you and you wouldn’t even argue with him — you couldn’t look away the first time he worked on your car, and you doubt that’ll ever change.

Maybe he’d be surprised you can do this, maybe he’d be impressed. Maybe he’d tell you you’re too pretty to change a tire and get your clothes dirty. You’d laugh it off, but you might just believe him.

You can’t picture Jake saying that to you — you can’t remember the last time he even gave you an honest compliment and meant it, not something backhanded, not something that elevates him higher than you. 

What’s sadder is that it doesn’t upset you anymore.

Changing a tire is easy enough in theory, but this is the first time you’ve actually done it yourself and Jesus Christ it’s more taxing than you anticipated. You’re sweaty, out of breath, and you’re sure you’ve pulled a muscle. In the depths of your daydreaming, you lose your grip on the lug wrench and fall forward, scraping your arm on the tar. It stings to no end and blood starts settling in small pools, the surface of your skin covered in a rough mixture of gravel and bits of tar — the last thing you need, but it’ll have to wait.

Tossing the wrench to the ground, it lands with a startling clank, the sound reverberating through your skull. You’re hauling the old wheel into the boot of your car and see a nail, stuck flush in the tire, still shiny and new. You wish you could feel shiny and new again.

Fuck this. You pull out your phone to text Jake.

You: just got a fucking flat tire You: not coming anymore, sorry

You don’t wait for him to respond and focus on lowering your car again. You consider your options on where to go after this — not particularly wanting to go home so soon to be grilled by your dad, there is one place you can think of.

-

It’s early evening and Joel’s getting ready to close up shop for the day, tools pushed to the side and cash books up to date. Piling up loose papers, he finds the invoice for the brake sets he used on your car and he can’t help but wonder how you’ve been the past month. Each day that passed he hoped you’d show up — maybe something else was wrong with your car, maybe you’d just come to see him for the sake of it, but you never did. He told himself it was better that way.

He’s been keeping himself busy otherwise, teaching Eddie some tricks of the trade and avoiding Hazel. She’s not a bad woman, but he’s made it clear on plenty of occasions that he is not interested, be it a one-night stand or something serious  — then, of course, he met you.

He hasn’t been on a real date in a lifetime, he’s had casual flings here and there, but he’s felt drawn to you right from the start. He just wants to take care of you, give you the treatment you deserve, which you aren’t getting from your boyfriend. Emotionally, physically — whatever you need, whatever you’ll let him do. A part of him hopes you and this Jake boy will eventually break up and you’ll come running into his own arms instead, as selfish as it may be.

He hears a car stop outside and a door slams shut with a thud, pulling him out of his thoughts. Turning around he sees you dragging yourself in from the street, bloody scrapes on your arm and dirt stains on your pant legs. You look tired, rattled.

“Joel? Please can you help me?”

-

Joel’s standing alongside your car, hands on his hips, in the same tight coveralls you saw him wearing a month ago.

“You know you could’ve just called sweetheart, I would’ve come to change it for you.”

“I can change a tire.” Previously, the endearment would’ve made your mind go blank, but you’re tired — tired of Jake, tired of life’s bullshit, tired of everything, and it comes out much harsher than you intended.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice. If he does, he doesn’t comment. He bends down to inspect it and a small part of you hopes he’s impressed by your efforts.

“I can see that, you did a good job of it too.” He tries twisting a lug nut and it doesn’t shift. “Who taught you how to do this?”

“Common sense? It’s not that complicated.”

“You didn’t wanna call your dad or that boyfriend of yours to come and help?”

“My dad would tell me I’m doing it wrong and I’d tell Jake he was doing it wrong. No thanks.”

You stand, arms folded across your chest and give him a tight smile, which fades as fast as it appears. Usually you’d revel in the banter between you, but tonight you can’t find it in yourself to let go.

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I’ll put a new tire on here for you and you’ll be good to go on.”

Your phone rings before you can respond — you tilt the screen and can see it’s Jake. You let out a bitter sigh, not in the mood for the insensitivity and all-round lack of respect you’re bound to get from him. You don’t excuse yourself when you answer, beyond caring what Joel may hear from either of you.

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you call me, I could’ve come to help.”

“Says the guy who needed the manual to find the lever for the fucking fuel cap.”

“Well, I could’ve fetched you or called someone else.”

“It’s fine, it’s done. I’m getting a new tire fitted anyways, I’m at the mechanic’s right now.”

“Alright, whatever, but it’s not too late — you can still come over, stay the night maybe?”

“I said I’m not coming — my clothes are filthy, I’ve got muscle cramps where I didn’t know I fucking had muscles, and I’m not in the mood Jake. Not tonight.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel stills, just for a moment, like that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. You swear you can see his ears redden and you wish you could see the expression on his face.

“Thought you’d have changed your mind by now but okay, I could come over to…”

“I said no. I have to go.”

You end the call and cut his goodbyes short, putting your phone on silent and shoving it back into your pocket. Seeing Joel had lifted your spirits ever so slightly, and now that’s all been undone. You’ve held it together all day but you feel tears start to well in your eyes. You blink furiously, trying your hardest to will them away before it’s too late.

-

“Everything alright?”

Joel stands and turns to face you, repeating his question when you don’t respond and sees you staring ahead, tears streaming down your cheeks. As if on instinct, he moves towards you and wraps his arms around you. He feels your body go rigid and begins to pull back — this was a mistake, he should’ve asked — but as fast as he lets you go you’re pulling him back in, your arms now wrapping around his middle.

Standing with your head buried into his chest, your breaths come out in gasps as you try to stop yourself from crying. He can feel your hands are balled into fists and you’re squeezing your arms like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded, like you’re scared he won’t come back if you let go. Joel’s careful not to put his hands where he really shouldn’t, one between your shoulder blades, the other cradling your head. Everything is not alright, but he doesn’t want to overstep, risk pushing you further down into yourself and further away from him.

“Hey, sweetheart, let’s go sit.”

You don’t object as he moves his hand to the small of your back and walks you into the office. He sits you down on the couch, handing you water from the fridge and you’ve gone silent, eyes drawn to the floor, but your tears have somewhat slowed. He notices blotches of dried blood on the bottom of your shirt and gets up to find some bandages and cotton pads — he knows there’s a first-aid kit somewhere around here.

“Just wanna clean your arm up, that okay?”

You nod your head meekly, still avoiding his eyes. He takes your arm in his hands, twisting it to see the scrapes and grazes in their entirety. He wipes your arm down with an alcohol-soaked cotton pad and you pinch your eyes shut, wincing slightly at the inevitable sting. Thankfully your arm just looked worse than it is; he’s able to leave most of it uncovered, only bandaging a small section that looks particularly inflamed.

Placing your arm down in your lap, he’s not sure how to carry on. He can practically hear you thinking, but what exactly is turning over and over in that head of yours he doesn’t know.

“Sorry,” you mumble weakly, angling your head towards him, gaze still downward.

“Sorry for what?”

“This.” You shift your hands around in your lap and start picking at your nails. You slump down on the couch, continuing, “Sorry for crying.”

“Hey, look at me.” Joel turns himself to face you, resting an elbow on the back of the couch. He waits for you to turn and you finally lift yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes red and glassy.

“Don’t apologise for crying, sweetheart. You’re allowed to cry.”

“I’m twenty-three, I should be better at all this by now.”

“Better at what? I’m about to turn fuckin’ fifty and I still cry sometimes.”

You turn away from him again — you furrow your brow and he can tell you’re trying to come up with a reason why that shouldn’t apply to you, why you need to be stronger than anyone else.

“I assume that was your boyfriend on the phone? Sounds like you had grand plans for tonight.”

You screw your face up at that.

“Don’t call him- don’t say that. He had grand plans, I was psyching myself up to break up with him.”

He knew that something wasn’t right between the two of you, but he didn’t realise it would be quite this bad.

“It’s just…” You sigh again, sounding despondent, like all that anger you had earlier has been dissolved, absorbed, or maybe you’ve just become desensitised to it.

“I just don’t understand, how is he so… detached? It’s like he’s from another fuckin’ planet. I can’t tell anymore if he just doesn’t care or if he truly is that self-absorbed.” You lean back and bring your arms up, draping them over your head.

“Was it always like this?” He’s trying his best to tread lightly, but hopes you’ll feel more at ease if you can get some of this off your chest.

“No… at least, I don't think so. Maybe it has been and I was just blinded by the bare minimum. Only now he doesn’t even do that.”

You turn to look at him again, eyes changed from glassy to broken and exhausted. You whisper a thank you, a soft, sad smile on your face and he decides not to push you any further. You’ve shared, and that’s a start — you’ll come to him again in your own time.

“Gonna go finish up that tire of yours, you can stay in here a while if—”

You’re standing before he can get the words out, straightening out your shirt and wiping your tear-stained cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

No longer hysterical as you push past to walk outside, now you just look defeated. He should insist you stay put to be alone, but having just opened up about your insecurities and loveless relationship with Jake, now isn’t the time to defy you. Maybe he can try and bring a smile to your face before you say goodbye.

-

You thought your night might end in tears courtesy of Jake, but this isn’t what you were expecting. You can’t believe you broke down so easily in front of Joel, but maybe deep down you knew he wouldn’t mind, knew he’d be there to console you.

You have to admit, it felt nice to be held, to feel safe in someone's embrace. Your head was spinning — Jake’s an asshole, my arm hurts like a bitch, I’m never gonna get the blood out of this shirt. Then Joel took your arm in his hands and it had your head spinning for entirely different reasons. Feeling his fingertips dig into your skin and his hold around your wrist had you longing to feel those same sensations on the rest of your body.

Joel shook your hand the first day you met and you committed it to memory — firm grip, calloused palm, thick fingers. You replayed it in your mind on countless late nights with your hand between your legs, trying to imagine how different it would feel, how much better it would feel if it were his instead.

Coming outside into fresh air was supposed to calm you down, until Joel carried on replacing the tire and you felt heat settle under your skin, neither from injury nor anger. Muscles flexing under his coveralls, neck tensing and the grunts from the exertion — something else you can commit to memory. You feel your panties dampen and you don’t feel ashamed.

Joel stands when he’s finished fitting the new tire, lifting you out of your fantasy. Thinking back to the last time you saw him, you remember his parting words to you: you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me. You couldn’t tell if he was being polite or actually offering you a job.

“Were you serious about all that answering the phone stuff?” You wring your hands, worried you’re about to make a fool of yourself.

“You wanna work here?” Joel straightens up, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I mean, I know my dad would like to see me out of the house and actually doing something. I doubt this would impress him, though.”

Joel cocks his head to the side, hands planted on his hips as he inches towards you and you feel yourself heat up instantly, eyes going wide as embarrassment washes over you.

“Sorry! No offence to you, I just mean- I’m not saying it’s- God I’m really not helping myself.” You snap your eyes shut, hands flying up to cover your face and you wish the world could just swallow you whole.

Joel starts laughing, a quiet, gravelly sound and you open your eyes to glare at him. He raises his eyebrows, a wide smile now across his face.

“No offence taken. Do you really wanna sit here answering the phone? I‘m sure there’ll be some other stuff we can do, too, but not much else beyond that.”

Other stuff we can do. You could certainly think of a few things, that’s for sure.

“Well, something’s better than nothing. And you play nice music, so there’s that.”

He laughs again, shaking his head.

“Maybe you can teach me some car stuff when I’m not answering the phone. And… you’re nice to be around, I guess.” You purse your lips, trying your best to play it off as an innocent compliment. 

“Well alright then, I’ll see you next week sweetheart.” He smiles warmly, eyes just beginning to crinkle around the edges and for the first time today you feel at ease.

Joel saves your number and waves you goodbye as you drive off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he’s still standing in the road, a smirk plastered on his face and you grin like an idiot. You still have Jake to deal with, and your blood-stained shirt might go straight in the bin, but at least you have working with Joel to look forward to.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[secondbeatsongs]

Hello, you said in some tags in a poll that Speed Racer (2008) is your favorite film. If you’re okay with it, I’d really like to hear more about why you love it. I love the Wachowskis’ work (they’re among my favorite directors), but I kinda ended up bouncing off Speed Racer (2008). So, hearing that it had a real impact on someone makes me very curious why. I’m not interested in criticizing your opinion or arguing with you, I’d just really like to know why you love it in the hopes I might be able to enjoy that movie more in the future.

oh god this is from seven months ago, I'm so sorry - but I do love almost everything about Speed Racer (2008) and I still think about it nearly every day.

I love that it's so bright and colorful and absurd. I love that it's an anime in live action form. and I love that at its heart, it is a story about love.

it's about the mistakes people make out of love, and the consequences of that. it's about the way children grow to understand why the adults around them make the choices they do, and maybe choose to do the same things. it's about taking risks for the people you love, and the pain of failing to change the world, because everything is capitalism and everything hurts.

(and it's also about being transgender btw. like, that's one of the main things about it - it is very much a movie about being transgender)

what if your father's choices hurt your older brother, and your older brother's choices hurt you, and now it's you and your younger brother staring down a future where you're going to end up hurting him by making the same choice?

and then...what if you can escape that? what if the broken parts put themselves back together, and the hope doesn't run out, and you're not alone with the things that haunt you? what then?

and now you're at the end and mistakes were still made, people were still hurt, but everyone's grown and changed and they're different now. and they've figured out that maybe, just maybe, you can change the world by doing something you love, by creating art and beauty and making people feel things.

maybe you really can defeat capitalism by driving a car really fast. and even if everyone thinks you can't...don't you have to try anyway? shouldn't you fight with the skills you have, the only way you know how?

what if it works?

and I'm not even gonna get into most of the Racer X stuff (because I want people to go watch this movie, and most folks probably won't be spoiled for it), but his whole deal is just...everything. I love him.

(if there's a guy from Speed Racer that I want to put in a jar and shake every so often, or maybe wrap in a blanket so he can have a nice nap, it's Racer X. he's a great character. prime blorbo material)

anyway I've been rotating this movie in my head ever since I saw it for the first time, and I think I've seen it...seven? times now? and I still cry at the final race, and I still get blown away by the intro sequence.

(the beginning of the movie is genuinely one of the best things I've ever seen - it does an amazing job of introducing you to the world and the story of the characters, and gets you emotionally invested in it right from the start. it's fantastic filmmaking)

also like. story stuff aside, from a technical standpoint, the movie is a masterpiece. it's the type of thing that people hated when it first came out, but when you look at it now and see how it was made, how it intentionally looks bizarre and cartoonish, plastic and surreal, you can see the exact vision the Wachowskis were going for, and it's brilliant.

the way they did the visual effects, the way they made the outdoor scenes feel so detailed, the way the driving and the tracks work - they put so much thought into that, and the behind-the-scenes vids show how cool their process was.

also uhhh cars go vroom, crash into each other, flip upside down, explode, maybe have bees and hammers in them sometimes?

(the above is me complimenting the unhinged vibe of the races themselves, which I love very much)

anyway I could make other full posts about the script of the film and how much I love it, or the cool side characters, or the fanfic potential of the amazing world of the film, or how I can prove that it's set in 1991...but I guess if anyone wants those rants, they'll just have to watch the film and then come talk to me. :)

(please. please come talk to me about Speed Racer.)

so, yeah! I kinda lost my mind there and made this post way longer than I intended, but I do feel strongly affected by this movie, and I hope this has helped explain why.

[tracingpatternswrites]

Leather and Cinnamon | Wolfstar Bingo

It's that time of the year again! The @wolfstarbingo2024 is here.

I'm supposed to be working hard on my Big Bang fic so naturally I instead spent the whole day writing 13k words of... well, this.

I've had this idea for a long time and I think I started it over a year ago, but now I finally found the inspiration to finish it (while also crossing off one of my prompts). So here it is.

Title: Leather and Cinnamon Pairing: Wolfstar Rating: E WC: 13.2k Prompt: One night stand Summary: Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine. He's been busy raising a son, thank you very much.

Now, however, Teddy is off to university and when Remus goes to Brighton to drop him off, they stumble over a coffee shop in the south lanes. It's a cosy little place with a barista who has silver eyes and pale skin and an arse to die for.

Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut:

“I’ll order,” Teddy said as they entered the coffee shop, nodding towards a table by the window. “You can take a seat.”

“Oh really?” Remus asked, a little amused. “You’re paying too, then?”

“Obviously not,” Teddy remarked casually. “I’m a poor student, remember?”

“Sometimes I think you just spend time with me for my wallet.” Remus sighed wistfully but Teddy merely grinned at him, snapping his fingers.

“Money, please.”

“Maybe I want to order,” Remus said, but Teddy was already snatching the note from his fingers.

“Please,” Teddy scoffed. “Like I’d trust you with my order.”

Remus looked fondly as his son sauntered off towards the bar, unable not to smile to himself. He honestly couldn’t get his head around the fact that he had an 18-year-old son who was now heading off to university all on his own.

It had felt bittersweet, packing up Teddy’s boyhood room. He knew the day would come eventually, and even though he was excited for his son, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as well. They had driven down to Brighton together, their old little car stuffed full of (almost) everything that Teddy would need for the coming few months.

They had spent the day getting his room in order before Remus decided it was time for him to head back home. Teddy had agreed to a coffee before he left though, and Remus was set on making the most of the time he had left with his son while he still had the chance.

The café they had picked was in the south Lanes and had a bright red door with rainbow flags decorating the windows. It was the name that had drawn Remus in though, Baskerville’s Hound written in bold letters over the painting of a big, black dog.

The place itself was cosy enough, with paintings decorating the walls together with black and white photographs of Brighton and random people. The walls were painted in a dark blue colour and the furniture was all mismatched and clearly second hand, but still in good shape.

Teddy returned without drinks, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and slumping down on it, shrugging as Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“They’ll bring it out,” he said, slouching back on his chair.

“Any chance you got a change on that twenty?”

“Sorry.” Teddy grinned at him, pushing a hand through his longish hair, currently a bright orange. Remus had long since accepted that Teddy opted to change his hair colour as often as other people changed clothes, and he enjoyed seeing him explore. “Consider it a contribution towards your only child’s education.”

“Ah, yes, never mind the 9K tuition fee,” Remus deadpanned. “It’s the change on the coffee that’s going to make the real difference.”

“I’ll need pocket money.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched. “You need money for beer, you mean.”

Teddy threw his arms out. “It’s uni life, Da.”

Remus snorted just as the barista approached the table, clearing his throat.

“A latte with a dash of cinnamon and…whatever this monstrosity is,” the barista said, and Remus tore his gaze away from his son to the man standing next to their table.

Remus found himself doing a double-take at the sight of him. He didn’t know why he’d expected a student, but this man looked to be roughly his age. He was tall, muscular, with tattooed arms and wearing a simple white tee-shirt underneath a light apron with a large black dog printed on the front of it.

There was the hint of a stubble over his very chiselled jaw, high cheekbones and long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was his eyes, however, that caught Remus’ attention. They were a light sort of grey that reminded Remus of silver, seemingly drawing in the light around them. They were dancing with something that looked like amusement as Teddy sat up excitedly.

“That’s mine,” Teddy said eagerly, reaching for the tall glass topped with a hefty dollop of whipped cream. “Cheers, mate.”

“I take it you’re the sensible one then,” the man said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he turned his gaze on Remus, placing the mug in front of him with a little wink. “Enjoy.”

Remus couldn’t help staring as the man walked away, gaze taking in the dark jeans and heavy boots.

“Earth to Da!”

Teddy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he flinched, accidentally burning his hand as his coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up his spill and when he looked back up, Teddy was watching him with a mischievous sort of twinkle in his eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied quickly, clearing his throat as his voice came out weirdly rough. “Fine.”

“I said, are you coming down with Ma next week?”

“Oh,” Remus said, taking a sip from his coffee to distract himself momentarily. “Dunno, mate. D’you want me to?”

“You don’t have to,” Teddy shrugged. “It’s just cause she couldn’t be here this weekend.”

“Right,” Remus nodded. “I’ll be there if you want me to.”

Teddy waved it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it made a chirping noise.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes on the display as he quickly tapped out a message. “Aoife says there’s a group heading to the pub tonight.”

“That sounds like fun,” replied Remus as his gaze darted over to the bar, just briefly, catching on the man who was wiping down glasses and humming to himself, the muscles in his arms flexing. “You should go with them, make some friends.”

He only tore his gaze away from the man as he heard Teddy’s snort, and his son was watching him with an unimpressed sort of expression.

“What?”

“Make some friends?” he echoed, pulling a face. “It’s not pre-school, Da. It’s uni.”

“What?” asked Remus, a little affronted. “You don’t make friends at university?”

“No,” Teddy said assuredly. “You just…get to know people. Hang out.”

“Right,” Remus said, giving a solemn nod. “My bad. You should go with them and hang out then.”

Teddy rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath before he turned his attention back to his phone, and Remus pressed his lips together so that he wouldn’t smile. His eyes darted briefly back towards the bar, where the man was now stacking mugs.

It would be in Brighton where a random barista looked like he’d stepped right out of one of Remus’ wet dreams. He looked exactly like the type Remus would have been madly in love with when he was younger, and, it turned out, his taste hadn’t changed that much since then.

Remus hadn’t dated much in the past few years as Teddy was growing up. It wasn’t that it had been impossible, Dora had managed to move on just fine after their amicable split, and her dating life had never affected Teddy badly, he just hadn’t prioritised it. Ever since Teddy had moved in with him full-time when he was fifteen, Remus put his own dating life on a shelf.

Dora had told him he was being ridiculous, that Teddy was more than capable of handling his dad dating, and Teddy had even told him so himself. He’d even encouraged Remus to get out there, claiming that it would do him good to get laid. It wasn’t a lie, Remus knew that, but he had simply prioritised raising his son over hookups.

He knew it would be different now though, with Teddy off to university and Remus alone in their house. They had been joking about it, and Remus was happy that Teddy was starting his own life as a young adult, but he couldn’t deny that it would be strange.

He and Dora had been so young when they became parents. She had still been at university, and he had only just completed his Bachelor's Degree. He’d been a parent for all of his 20s and almost all of his 30s, it felt wild thinking that he was approaching his 40s with more independence than he’d had in a long while.

“Right, I gotta go,” Teddy said suddenly, his voice yanking Remus out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Da.”

Remus shook his head, smiling a little as he stood. “Don’t worry about it. Time for me to head back home anyway.”

Teddy nodded, watching him for a moment, his blue eyes searching over Remus’ face and he looked so serious suddenly.

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Remus couldn’t help but smile a little at the troubled look on his son’s face, the half-grimace as he gave a brief shrug.

“I’ll be fine, Da.”

“So will I,” Remus replied, smiling a little as he pulled his son close for a hug. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it,” Teddy muttered against the crook of his neck before Remus released him. “I worry about you all alone in that house.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Remus said as he clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I used to have a life before you, y’know.”

“Barely,” Teddy replied with a snort, the corner of the boy’s mouth quirking upwards as Remus swatted lightly at him.

“Oi, don’t get cheeky.”

Teddy laughed, seemingly unfazed as he leaned a little closer, stage-whispering, “You could always stay and chat up the barista, eh? I can see you ogling him.”

Remus had a horrible feeling as he was blushing as Teddy threw a meaningful look towards the man behind the counter and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Continue on AO3.

[natasha-in-space]

VAE Ray is on my mind today. Like if we take the classic 'V route but in love with Ray' road, you cannot tell me that that boy did not think of you almost every single day during the two years he has spent away on his painful recovery. There is so much left unsaid between the two of you: so much guilt, so much hurt and so many regrets plaguing his head every time he sees something that reminds him of you. And, God, does that include a lot of things.

He goes outside and one look at the clouds brings back a memory of those short but meaningful talks he shared with you about the most simple of things. He remains indoors, and after taking a sip of the herbal tea that Jihyun made for him, he is immediately transported back to a peaceful tea party he set up for you. He stares at his hands, and he can't help but think back on how heavenly your touch felt against them. And how much he regrets wearing those pesky gloves at the time, never giving him the chance to feel your skin on his.

You're like a ghost that watches over his every step. It's often painful. Like a constant reminder of all that could have been if he didn't ruin every chance at his happiness with you. Sometimes it gets a little too hard on him, and Saeran takes over. But sometimes it's comforting. Like a warm hug, keeping him secure when all else falls apart.

He refuses to let you go.

So when he does meet you again, it's like a fragile fantasy that is far too idealistic for it to be true. Ray had no expectation that his brother would remember him. No matter what Jihyun has told him over those two years, he couldn't bring himself to believe that Saeyoung truly wanted him in his life to be the burden that he truly is. So when he gets crushed into a tight, desperate hug that is a bit too painful for his scarred body, his twin's whole body shaking, wracked with sobs Ray's ears can't quite register fully due to how unbelievable it all is... He's almost in a trance-like stare. Hearing Saeyoung's voice telling him to never leave again as he holds him so tight, it's like he's afraid he'll disappear into thin air once he lets go...

None of it was what Ray or Saeran had expected.

And then there's you. Your reunion with Ray will definitely be an emotional event for both of you. Ray was sure that, at best, you had forgotten all about him and lived on a happy and safe life. A life that you deserve. And at worst, that you hated him, and cursed him for hurting you the way that he did.

But instead, you are so unbelievably happy to see him. So happy that you are crying for him. Much like Saeyoung is.

The two people he had the worst fear of facing again were accepting of him and shedding tears for him in a way he had never even imagined.

So he also breaks down. And the three of you probably spend a lot of time crying into each other's arms as two years of grief, heartbreak, and recovery wash over you all at once.

After that, things don't immediately turn perfect. There are still many things that need to be said. You and Ray will have many conversations with each other, taking breaks to process it all piece and piece and not overwhelm one another. About what happened those two years ago. About what happened after that. About your feelings for each other. And about Saeran, too.

It's a process that takes time. But the fact that you're willing and even wanting to go through that process with him is enough to cause Ray to shed tears more than he could count.

The beginning is small, very small. Brief brushing of his fingers against yours while you are sitting together in the shade of a large tree in Saeyoung's backyard. The lightest of touches you give to his scars after he allows it. A hand resting on his shoulder gently as he talks about something heavy to let him know you're there for him.

Every touch leaves his entire body shaking, his breath stuttering in his throat, forcing him to let out the faintest of gasps. The first time it happened, he got very ashamed and apologized profusely to you, as he thought he acted like a complete creep and made you uncomfortable. Ray knows he's touch-starved, and that he's touch-starved for your touch specifically. But he doesn't think it's something worth dealing with, not wanting to be a bother to anyone. Not any more than he already is. A thought process that he will need to work on one step at a time.

You let him know that it's okay, though. That you don't mind. That it's your own desire to touch him.

After that, you begin to take his hands into yours. The first time it occurs, your hand jist clasps around his lightly. Then you interlock your fingers together, once he's okay with that. And then he feels safe enough to do that to you, too.

Holding hands with you is something Ray loves with all his heart. No gloves are getting in the way now. He can feel your skin directly on his with no barriers. It's a wordless 'I got you' that he finds himself getting more and more greedy for, the longer you indulge his cravings for human warmth.

His scars are not bothersome to you. If he doesn't want to, you don't force him to talk about them. And you're always quick to let him know how beautiful he is to you whenever he feels insecure about them. Even if he has a hard time believing that.

You're far too good for him, is what Ray finds himself thinking time and time again. But at some point, he comes to the realization that he is too selfish to let you go again. And then Saeran joins in on that line of thinking after his own long journey with you. So he doesn't let you go again.

And that's when everything changes.

Ray can be clingy with you if you let him. He desires to hold your hand inside the house, regardless of whether it's just a walk to the balcony or kitchen. He will rest against you whenever you are resting, reading a book, or indulging in your hobby. You don't need to talk to each other. He just silently sinks against you and sighs softly, letting your presence wash away all other thoughts floating in his mind. While asleep, he clings to you, almost as if his subconsciousness is terrified of you disappearing again. He fiddles with your clothes, with your fingers, or with your hair whenever you are talking to someone, and he's there with you. It calms him. Keeps him steady.

There is an undeniable bittersweetness to Ray's clinginess. GE Saeran's touchiness stems from his heart's pure affection towards you, but VAE Ray neecs to constantly remind himself that you're there. That he can touch you. That you are not going anywhere. And that you have no hatred towards him.

But it can also be sweet. Like whenever you help him take care of his burns, or you ease him into a warm, soothing bath you've prepared just for him. Ray may be anxious. But you are always eager to show him how much you genuinely care for him. How much you enjoy touching him in the way he has always wanted to be touched by you. To allow him to unwind with you. Close his eyes and let you take care of him with no judgement.

Your relationship with VAE Ray described in one word would be: peace. It's peace after the long, heavy storm you had to endure to get to this point. And it's peace that you will cherish for as long as life allows you.

[bingsooow]

this is hyper specific but I have a hyper specific vision that I hope you can share with me: dom afab post-top surgery Venture riding a gn!readers face, from Ventures pov with soooooo much dirty talk 👀

This makes for a good short fic for sure 🙂‍↕️

As the moon illuminated the bedroom Sloan usually slept in there they were, a couple committing sinful acts under the beautiful moonlight. Sloan recently got top surgery because they felt that it would better help them represent themselves better. And as much as the scars seemed to heal, they were painful.

However that’s why Y/n was there. They took away the pain for Sloan and it made them feel like they were on top of the world. But this time they weren’t just on top of the world. They were on top of Y/ns mouth. Their warm tongue exploring all the deepest parts of Sloan.

Sloane almost taken aback by the pleasure bucked their hips more into Y/ns mouth. Soft whimpers falling from their lips. “Mi vida, more. You’re doing so fucking good. Please..” Their eyes were glossed over as they looked down at Y/n. Seeing them look back up at Sloan was even more sexy than the act.

With each passing second they felt the pleasure building up within them. Their hands grabbing at Y/ns hair and pulling them away for a moment. The saliva mixed with Sloans DNA was almost enough for them to moan out. They were in a daze before Y/n spoke up.

“What was that not enough? Do you need more?” Y/n seemed to ask almost gently like an obedient puppy dog.

“That’s not it, you just fuck me good with your tongue is all.” Sloan said their voice slightly raspy from all the sounds they seemed to have make. They’ve been at this for sometime and they didn’t want to just ruin it all with an orgasm.

But as Sloan admired the way Y/n looked they were snapped out a daze as they could feel their tongue back where it was before. Working them better than before. The sudden pleasure making them yelp out.

“Amor n-not yet-I-I cant!” Sloan stuttered out as they could feel themselves closer on their partners tongue. They wanted to beg and plead but yet the clouded mind of dirty pleasure stopped them.

“No, you sound so pretty, look so pretty. All mine. Nobody else will know how dirty you are for me.” Y/n said softly against Sloans inner thighs. They made sure to kiss those before going right back to what they were doing before.

This sent them into a spiral. They could feel the warm tears in the corner of their eyes as the looked down at Y/n ruthlessly attacking their most sensitive core. “L-love please! I-I don’t wanna cum yet! I-“

They were cut off by a strained moan falling from the back of their throat. Their legs were shaking around Y/ns head and Sloan almost couldn’t hold it much longer. Their whimpers and moans filling the room more in that moment.

“Amor..s-so good..I-I’m so close..” Sloan mumbled out as their release hit them faster then they would expect. Their eyes squeezing shut as they moaned out. They bit their lip slightly as their thighs squeezed around Y/ns head. But Y/n didn’t mind. It was all for Sloan.

Eventually Y/n moved Sloan and cleaned them up, gentle with the scars on their chest. They smiled a little at them. Even though the scars were fresh Sloan mentioned getting flames tattooed on them like they had on their neck. “Slow down let them heal silly.” Y/n mentioned handing them a bottle of water from the night table.

“I will…but imagine how cool it’ll look!” The night ended like normal, pillow talk and hearing Sloan mention many ideas before they talked themselves to sleep.

I apologize if there isn’t much dirty talk, I wanted to get this out for whoever wrote it because they are my first request :D I also apologize if it’s super short, I’m currently running off no sleep and two Celsius energy drinks

[avastrasposts]

Big Sky Country - ch. 7

Chapter 7 is here and so let's pick up where we left off; with Aisling dialing Frankie, hoping and praying he'll pick up.

Summery: Cowboy Frankie returns to New York to work things out with his 'maybe girlfriend' Eva. But he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

Warnings for the whole series can be found here

He hadn’t heard the first couple of rings, his phone up on the porch while he stacked the last of the fire wood up against the wall. When it finally registered, he hurried back, slightly out of breath as he picked up the phone. The unknown number had stumped him for a second, hardly anyone called him, only Herb if it was an emergency, sometimes one of his old army buddies. He almost didn’t answer, but then, on a whim, he did. And suddenly Aisling’s voice filled his ear as clear as if she was standing next to him on the porch. 

She hadn’t faded from his mind, and he didn’t expect her to. He knew his mind too well by now, he knew she’d always be someone he returned to in his thoughts. His ‘what if…’. But it didn’t hurt as much as it had in the first month of being back. Away from New York, away from the noise of the city, and away from the guilt of what he’d done to Eva, his mind calmed down enough for him to sort his thoughts properly. 

He knew he would’ve fallen in love with Aisling, probably already had on some level. But he also knew he did the right thing when he left, he couldn’t have stayed. And to try to fix his head by being with her would’ve ended just as badly as it did with Eva. He wasn’t going to place that responsibility on her, to keep his mind quiet. He needed to fix that himself, and then, maybe, he’d be ready for something new. 

He missed her though, even though he’d counted that they’d only met six times. And three of those times could hardly be called ideal circumstances. But she was lodged in his mind and he often found himself thinking how he wanted to show her something on the ranch, or out on the trail, a new foal or the spot where he always saw eagles hunting. But she wasn’t here, and he had no way of contacting her. So he kept her in his mind and tried to be content with the little time he’d spent with her.

Until she called. 

He recognized her voice the second she answered. 

“Hi Frankie, it’s Aisling,” she replied to his ‘Hello?’ “From the bar…in Greenpoint.” 

His brain stalled for a second, catching up. He dropped his hand to the railing of the porch for support, and it took him a few seconds to respond. He heard her clear her throat, a nervous intake of breath as she shifted the phone in her hand, the microphone probably brushing against her hair. 

Her hair. 

Curling around her shoulder in the bed as she slept. Shining like bright copper in the sun at Smorgasbord just before her eyes turned hard as she looked at him and Eva. The thought of it snapped him back to the present. 

“Hi… Aisling,” he almost stuttered, “I didn’t know it was your number.” 

“Yeah, I’m- I’m sorry to call you out of the blue…I just…” 

He heard her exhale and shift on her feet again and the uncertainty in her voice made him want to reach out through phone lines and touch her, to reassure her. He’d been hoping she’d call for months and now she sounded like she didn’t think he’d want to talk to her. 

“It’s good to hear your voice,” he said, “I’ve thought about you.” A lot, too much maybe, all the time, every night you’re on my mind. 

“I’m…I’m at the bus stop, outside Big Sky,” she said and something grabbed his heart and forced it up into his throat. 

“You’re-you’re…here?” He stuttered out the question, turning and yanking open the door to the cabin, the keys to his truck were just inside the door. 

“Yeah, and…and listen, I know, it’s weird, I should’ve called you before, and I know, maybe, if you don’t want to…but….I just…” she trailed off as he thumped down the stairs and took a few long strides to the truck. 

“Don’t say anything, I’m on my way,” Frankie rushed out, not wanting her to think for a second that he didn’t want her here. “It’ll take me forty-five minutes to get there, there’s a gas station across the road, you can wait there, just tell George I’m coming to pick you up.”

“I’m already in the gas station,” Aisling said, turning and looking over at the twenty something man who was looking at his phone, “Thank you, Frankie, I…” she stopped, inhaled and listened to his truck rumble to life on the other end, “I know this is totally weird, but I just-” 

“Don’t say anything,” Frankie interrupted her again, “I’m glad you came, fucking ecstatic actually, I can’t wait to see you and we can talk on the drive back. Ok?” 

She smiled and he heard it in her voice when she replied, “Ok.” 

Frankie was grateful for the lack of cops on the road into town, he was over the limit by a lot as he raced towards Big Sky. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, nervous energy running through his system as he tried to sort through his mind the way he’d become accustomed too. He was nervous, he could easily admit that, nervous about seeing Aisling again, about her seeing him here, his tiny cabin, the old truck. What if she took one look at his life here and regretted everything? He’d probably oversold his life in Montana when he’d shown her the photos. He loved it here, but that was him and his fucked up head. What is she, someone who’s so used to the city, going to think about his small life here? 

He wiped his hand against his jeans, fuck, I should’ve changed those, his palms sweaty as he started seeing the lights from Big Sky. Nervous, but also so elated, there was a lightness in his heart he hadn’t felt in a long time, even a little hopeful. And happy. Definitely happy, that was the biggest feeling, it sat in his chest like a warm glowing fire as he thought about seeing her again. 

Soon. 

Soon. 

He pulled into the gas station ten minutes early and killed the engine, reaching for the door handle. But then he saw her through the big window, sitting at the counter, sipping from a take away mug. And he had to stop and take a moment, because she was there, only a few feet away, and he realized he hadn’t really believed it until he saw her. Running a hand through her hair in a gesture he remembered almost too well, curls of copper red pushed back behind her ear, taking another sip from the coffee, and then she looked up and met his eyes.

He pushed open the door of his truck as she slipped off the stool and picked up her bag. If he could’ve picked any spot to meet her again, he wouldn’t have picked halfway across the gas station asphalt at BIg Sky, but that’s where it happened and as far as Frankie was concerned, it was perfect. 

He couldn’t fight the smile that took over his face as he walked towards her. Nervous, happy, hopeful, he felt like he floated over the dirty, oil stained ground as she smiled back at him. 

“Hi,” he said, and she reached up and touched the peak of his cap, the same Standard Oil Heating cap he’d worn in New York. 

“Hi, cowboy,” she replied, the smile widening on her face as she saw the dimple appear on his cheek and the way his soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Frankie said, taking her in, her pale, tired face, the crumpled t-shirt with some stains on the side and hole by the neck, the hair escaping from a haphazard bun. She’d never looked more beautiful to him. 

“I’m really sorry for just turning up like this, I should’ve called you sooner but it was kinda a spur of the moment decision and-,” Aisling said, but Frankie shook his head, interrupting her 

“Don’t be, I’m happy you’re here, surprised, but really fucking happy.” 

She felt her shoulders sink as he held out his hand for her bag and she gave it to him with a small smile. He made her feel a bit better about just turning up, he looked happy, his warm smile made her heart melt and relieved some of the nerves. 

“Get in the truck, it’s a bit of a drive back,” he said, opening the door and placing her duffel bag in the back seat before stepping back and gesturing for her to step forward, “And I’m sorry about the mess…” he suddenly ducked down and grabbed a couple of water bottles and an old blanket from the seat, shoving it in the back too. “Not that many people ride in my truck these days,” he shrugged, giving her an apologetic look. 

“I don’t mind, Frankie, I’m just relieved you picked up the phone,” Aisling replied and took his offered hand as she stepped up into the truck, “My plan B was to find a motel but seeing the size of this place, I’m not sure there is one?” 

“Not one you can walk too,” Frankie chuckled and closed the door, hurrying around to the driver’s side, “You’re lucky I wasn’t out on the trail though, with some guests. I could’ve been well out of reception.” 

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” Aisling said as Frankie got in on the other side, “but there were a lot of things I didn’t think about,” she looked over at Frankie, he was twisting the key in the ignition, the old truck, very much what she’d imagined him driving, rumbled to life. The interior smelled like motor oil and hay and the radio turned on to some old rock classics station, the whole thing felt so ridiculously domestic, so ordinary and so…safe.  

Suddenly she felt tears well up in her eyes, she was here, and so was he, he’d come to pick her up as if it was no bother and there hadn’t just been three months of total silence between them. She was almost a complete stranger to him, and he to her, and she’d yelled at him, told him how much he’d hurt her, and she hadn’t even said goodbye. Still, after all that, he’d answered when she called, and he’d come, smiling at her across the gas station. The long hours on the bus, the emotions of the past few days, it all overcame her, and she couldn’t stop the tears that started dripping down. 

Frankie looked over at Aisling as she sniffed, and she hastily wiped a hand over her eyes and shook her head. 

“I’m sorry, Frankie, just…can we just go?” She looked away from him and out through the window at the dark prairie beyond the gas station and the main road, she could feel his hand on her arm, a gentle squeeze before he pulled back again. 

“It’s ok, hermosa, it’s a long fucking journey on that bus, I should know. Let’s get you home, you can have a long, hot shower while I sort dinner,” Frankie put the truck into drive and glanced over at her again, “Just relax, you’re here now.” 

He sensed that there were a lot of things that they’d need to talk about, he didn’t know what had made her suddenly get on the bus. But he didn’t care, having her sit next to him in his truck was enough, it felt right. Right in a way that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. 

They rode back together almost in silence, Frankie pointed out the few things that could still be seen in the gathering darkness. 

“If the moon was full, you’d see it, it’s so bright out here, no street lights,” he said, gesturing to the nearby mountain range. In the almost total darkness, with only a sliver of the new moon, Aisling could only vaguely make out the darker ridge against the western sky. 

“I’ve never been somewhere where there are no street lights,” she replied, the first thing she’d said since they’d left Big Sky behind and Frankie glanced over at her. 

“City slicker,” he smirked and she looked over at him. He was keeping his eyes on the road but his eyes were smiling. 

“Sure thing, cowboy,” she teased him, and he chuckled. 

“Let me show you something, it’ll either freak you out, or you’ll love it,” he promised, and pulled the truck off the side of the road, killing the engine and the truck was thrown into darkness as Aisling gave him a nervous look. 

“No scary animals or creepy crawlies, Frankie,” she said and he chuckled. 

“I’ve seen those New York cockroaches, no bug out here comes even close.” 

He opened his door and came round to Aisling’s side, helping her step out onto the dusty verge. 

“Close your eyes,” he said, “and listen.” 

She did as he said, his warm hand still on the small of her back as she listened to the sounds around her. The engine behind her was clicking gently as it cooled down, the metal creaked a little and she could hear Frankie breathe next to her. 

She could hear Frankie breathe. 

Suddenly the silence was deafening in her ears and she turned and looked at the man standing next to her, smiling as he saw the wonder on her face. 

“It’s so quiet I can hear you breathe,” she whispered, and he nodded. 

“How does it make you feel?” he asked and she closed her eyes again, listening to the silence. Her heartbeat was a steady rhythm in her head, her own breath moved through her nose with a soft sound, Frankie shifted beside her and his jacket brushed against her hand with a low rustle. 

“Quiet,” she whispered, “It makes me feel quiet.” 

Frankie smiled and took her hand, “Keep your eyes closed, let me show you something else.” 

He led her to the back of the truck and helped her up on the flatbed. Together they laid back, Frankie guided her head down to the metal and then settled next to her. 

“Now you can open your eyes,” he whispered, and she blinked them open and gasped at the sight above her. The night sky was glittering, rivaling the Manhattan skyline, bright stars, as many as the grains of sand on a beach, scattered across the black expanse, brighter than she’d ever seen them before. She could sense Frankie’s eyes on her as she tried to take it all in, endless constellations, the faint light of suns millions of lightyears away, planets glimmering in different colors, the white hue of the milky way streaking across the southern sky. 

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, “I’ve never seen so many stars in the sky before.” 

“They’re always there,” Frankie replied in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the silence, “you just don’t see them in the city, it’s not dark enough.” 

“Can you show me the constellations?” she asked and he nodded, taking her hand in his and pointing it upwards. 

“That’s Ursa Major, the Big Dipper,” Frankie said and moved her hand, tracing the outline of the great bear in the sky. “And Cassiopeia sits just over the Milky Way, and then Andromeda just below the W.” He moved their joined hands again, showing her all the stars he knew, the ones he’d used to navigate, a back up to all the modern tech they’d carried on missions. 

“And if you’re lost, just look for that one, the North Star,” he pointed to a bright star, larger than the others, high up in the northern part of the sky, “It’s always to the north, no matter where you are.” 

Aisling listened to his voice, not really taking in what he was saying, just looking at the stars and planets as he pointed them out. Her mind was on the moment, resting on the flatbed of Frankie’s truck, his long body stretched out next to hers, so close that their legs touched. It felt a little bit like a dream, he’d been on her mind so much, and now he was here, his warm hand wrapped around her cold fingers, as he moved their arms, the low pitch of his voice wrapping around her mind. 

“Am I boring you?” he asked as he noticed her silence, letting their hands rest between them. When she didn’t reply he looked over at her, her closed eyes and parted lips made him smile, she was fast asleep. With a little chuckle he pushed himself up on his side and gently touched her cheek. 

“Aisling, wake up,” he whispered, moving the back of his hand over her soft skin and she stirred, blinking awake again. 

“I should probably get us back to the cabin,” Frankie smiled at her confused face, “It’ll be cold sleeping in the truck without sleeping bags.” 

“I’m sorry,” Aisling mumbled, letting Frankie help her sit back up, “I was listening but I couldn’t keep my eyes open.” 

“You’re probably beat after the bus. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t sleep for shit while I was on it. C’mere.” 

He held onto her waist as she slid off the flatbed and she looked up at him, her sleepy eyes smiling as he caught her. 

“Can we come out here again sometime when I’m not so tired?” she asked, “The sky is amazing and I want to hear more about the constellations.” 

“Yeah, of course, we can pack dinner, some sleeping bags and spend the whole night out here if you want to,” Frankie replied, helping her back into his truck, holding onto her hand. 

“That sounds amazing, thanks Frankie,” Aisling said and his soft, dark eyes were so gentle in the yellow light of the truck’s cabin, she felt the urge to kiss him. To wrap herself around him again and feel him hold her close to his solid frame. But she held herself back, not sure where they were yet, and Frankie just squeezed her hand before he let it go.

Aisling leaned her head on the window the rest of the way to the cabin, Frankie saw her eyes drifting shut as he glanced over and he had to wake her again when he finally pulled up in front of the house. He grabbed her bag and led her up the stairs, his hand in hers, pushing the door open, the lights were still on inside. 

She followed Frankie’s lead and toed off her shoes as she came into the house and let her eyes drift around the space. He moved into the big open room and put her bag on the dark brown leather couch in front of the fireplace that took up a chunk of the back wall. When he turned back to her he wiped his hands down his thighs in a nervous gesture as he looked at the way she was examining the space. 

“It’s not much, I know, but it’s just for me, and that’s enough,” he said, “but there’s a guest room, I’ll get the bed made for you, I’ve just kinda been using it as storage, but the bed’s comfy,” he rambled and missed the way she smiled. 

“It’s beautiful, Frankie, I love it,” Aisling said, moving over to the big fireplace and running her hand over the rough stone and the dark wood beams behind it. The whole place had a feeling of being lived in, a whole life in the way the old walls were colored by decades of wood smoke, the glass in the windows slightly warped, the floor creaking as she walked over it. And then Frankie’s things spread about, but all in their specific place. A thick, dark red quilt hanging over the arm of the couch, heavy gore-tex boots by the door, an assortment of what she assumed were ‘horse things’ next to them, even a Stetson tossed onto the coffee table. 

“Yeah?” Frankie said, “You sure? It’s kinda a mess, I usually don’t have company over,” he fussed over the couch, picking up a t-shirt and some dirty socks from the armrest. 

“It looks just like I pictured it from your photo,” she said, turning and smiling at him, “Can we light the fire? I’ve never been in a place with a real fireplace, only those fake decorative ones.”

“Sure, I’ll light it,” Frankie replied, coming over to where she stood next to the fireplace, “Do you want to take a shower while I light it and start dinner? I was just going to heat up some chili Herb’s girlfriend made for me, we can eat in front of the fire if you want.” 

“That sounds like the best plan ever, especially the shower part,” Aisling smiled and Frankie smiled in return. 

“I’ll show you the guest room and the shower, I’m afraid there’s no ensuite, just the one shared bathroom.” 

“Wow, really roughing it, aren’t you, Frankie,” she teased him, following his broad back down the hallway towards the bedrooms, “I should’ve stayed with my ensuite master bathroom on the third floor of my mansion back in Greenpoint.” 

“Don’t knock it, that was a great shower,” Frankie chuckled, and then immediately regretted his words. The image of the two of them together in her small shower wasn’t what he needed in his head right now, heat crept up his neck as he tried to steer his mind away from it. 

Aisling didn’t reply, her mind had also drifted back to the same place as Frankie, and she swallowed thickly as he opened the door to the guest bedroom. 

“Ok, this is you,” Frankie coughed, scratching his head as he looked at what was really his storage space with a critical view, “I…uh…might need to shift some things first, and I should really clean it out…” He winced, the room was full of junk, bits and pieces he thought might come in handy around the ranch or the cabin. He should really store it all in one of the barns down on the ranch, but somehow he’d never gotten round to it. And every surface was covered by dust, the air in the room stale and lacking in oxygen. 

“Listen,” he said, turning to Aisling who was standing just behind him, “I’ll sleep in here, or on the couch, you take my bed until I’ve sorted this out. I can’t let you sleep in here.” 

Aisling wanted to tell him it was fine, that she couldn’t kick him out of his bed, but the room really was a mess, the bed barely visible under all the knick knacks piled on top. 

“I can sleep on the couch, Frankie, and I’ll help you sort this. It’s my fault really, for turning up out of nowhere.” 

“Hermosa, you’re not sleeping on my couch,” Frankie replied, sounding almost offended and the endearment slipped out of him before he could stop it, biting his tongue too late. To hide it, he shook his head and pointed to the door opposite, “That’s the bathroom, I’ll get you a towel and then I’ll change the sheets on the bed, no arguments.” 

“Frankie…” 

“No arguments,” he repeated, hurrying down the hall to his own bedroom before she could object again. 

Aisling almost giggled out loud as his flustered face, he was different here, in a good way. Less wary of his surroundings, more comfortable and open, which made sense now that he was back in Montana which seemed to be so important to him. She liked this version of Frankie though, even more than the one she’d seen in Brooklyn. Whatever had haunted him there, it seemed to have stayed in Greenpoint, along with his ex-girlfriend. But they needed to talk about what had happened in New York. She hadn’t wanted to listen to him or his excuses three months ago, but three months of not being able to forget him had changed her mind. Now she wanted to know, to understand, so that they could move forward, if that was what he wanted too.

Aisling sighed, she was really hoping Frankie saw something similar, but she wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, dreading what it would bring up for both of them. For now though, she just wanted a shower and some food before crashing in Frankie’s bed. She wasn’t going to fight him for the couch, the bed sounded too tempting after sleeping sitting up for two days straight. 

The bathroom was small but cozy, like the rest of the cabin. Frankie knocked on the door and handed her a towel before he showed her how to turn on the old shower. She took longer than she probably should’ve, indulging in some of Frankie’s body wash and letting the hot water pour over her tired, stiff muscles. The shower smelled like him, the way she remembered him smelling when he first leaned over the bar counter and showed her the pictures of the cabin she was now in. On the vanity counter were some of his toiletries, neatly lined up. He’d said the cabin was a mess but she couldn’t see any of it, the towels in the bathroom hung straight on the rail, his toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush and deodorant were in a row on the counter. He even had a pair of slippers parked underneath a terry cloth robe hanging by the door. Not a thing out of place. It made her smile while she dried her hair and changed into clean clothes, she could see his army background in the details. The messy spare bedroom was like his mind, the mess hidden behind the quiet, in control, exterior. 

The smell of wood fire and food was starting to drift in from the rest of the cabin and her stomach grumbled as she left the bathroom. 

“I hope I left you some hot water,” she told Frankie’s back as she made her way over to the kitchen part of the large open room and he turned around. 

“No problem, the tank is pretty big, and you needed it.” 

“Are you saying I smelled?” Aisling feigned offense as she stood next to him, looking into the pot he was stirring. 

“Absolutely, like an old bus, two thousand miles and the New York subway. Ouch!” 

He laughed and grabbed his arm in mock pain when she gave him a light slap for his teasing. 

“I think it’s two and half thousand miles,” Aisling replied, “and I feel like every one of them is rolling around in my head.” 

“I remember the feeling,” Frankie said and handed her a beer, still cold from the fridge, “Here, grab this, and go sit down. I’ll be right there with dinner.” 

Aisling gratefully grabbed the bottle and found a cozy spot on the couch, stretching out and leaning back with a sigh. The fire was crackling, spreading its warmth and she felt drowsy again as she sipped on the beer. 

Frankie came over with a tray, two bowls and bread on the side, and sat down next to her. 

“The bowl is hot, so be careful,” he said, putting it all down on the coffee table. 

“Nice beer,” Aisling said, sitting up straight again as she looked at the label, “is it local?” 

“Yeah, small microbrewery in Missoula, Herb and I have been exploring as many local ones as we can get our hands on. And no one charges fourteen fifty for them.” 

He glanced over at her, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a cheeky grin as her tired brain caught on to what he meant. 

“Fuck off, Frankie,” she mock scowled at him, “that beer was worth fourteen fifty, this one isn’t.” 

“I’m offended, as a proud Montana transplant, I’m offended!” Frankie put his hand on his chest and clutched an imaginary string of pearls around his neck in a gesture that made her snort as she scooted closer to the table. He’d loaded the stew with toppings and she gratefully dug into it, relishing proper home made food after so long of bus snacks. 

“My compliments to Herb’s girlfriend, that was fucking delicous,” Aisling sighed, putting her bowl down after eating in silence. 

“Want some more?” Frankie asked but Aisling shook her head. 

“I could eat another three servings I think, but then my body might go into shock,” she replied and leaned back in the corner of the couch with the beer bottle. 

Frankie glanced over at her and smiled, she was looking tired and drowsy, leaning her head against the back of the couch and her legs stretched out towards him. While he watched she returned his smile, her features softening before her face cracked in a big yawn. 

“Go to bed, Aisling,” he chuckled, patting her leg, “I’ll clean up, and tomorrow I’ll show you the ranch.” 

“Ash,” she said, smiling at him as she put her hand over his, “My friends call me ‘Ash’.” She gave his fingers a squeeze and let go, pushing herself off the couch, “And yes, I’ll take that offer of not having to clean up and going to bed instead. Sorry about stealing yours, but you did offer.” 

“Catfish,” Frankie said, and he couldn’t help grinning when she looked down at him in confusion, “My friends call me ‘Catfish’, or just ‘Fish’.” 

“There must be a story there,” Aisling smiled back at him, “Tell me in the morning, ‘Fish’.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek, “Thanks for today.” 

Chapter 8

[averlym]

ghostwriter (their grandma would tell them she'd lose half her soul)

[rabbitmoss]

rewatching nuwho and i'm rlly.... why is human nature / family of blood just racist hit after racist hit after racist hit against martha . followed by a heavy dose of classist (+ misogynistic!!!!) behavior directed against her afterwards where the humans of 1913 england treat her like a weird alien from another world (the doctor in human form included!!!).

also, why do they have the doctor a) be actively bigoted and b) fall in love with a racist nurse who specifically speaks down to martha (someone who the doctor cares for). they create this "unassuming" white woman character and then have her be awful to martha but we're supposed to believe that she is kind and sympathetic worthy of being the human doctor's love interest, more than martha being treated as a human being. (and then that we should cry over her lost love/future in the end)

like why. genuinely why. what is the point .

also objectively what function does the nurse serve that martha jones could not have. she's even a medical student like !!!!!! going undercover as a nurse would not be that far off!! and plus, i'm not even a tenmartha shipper but it would fit more for the emotional arc of martha's character to get what she wanted all season in human nature / family of blood (the doctor falling in love with her!!! wish fulfillment !!!!!! ) only to realize the cruelty of what this would be like in reality if she were never to open the watch (despite her finally having what she "wants"), and finally understanding and having to give john smith up. it could've been a really tragic, but human moment (like a lot of other things in dw!).

then 10 and martha's relationship could actually be on some sort of equal footing. bc martha had a taste of what it would be liked to be loved by him (or someone similar to him, at least), and chose in the end to let it go. it would give her emotional closure, etc. and would show her choosing the /actual/ doctor (not human) and the friendship she has with him, rather than a lifetime with a human that she fell in love with who happens to look like him.

could've been a really cool moment of both character development and then bonding between the doctor and martha afterwards in their newfound partnership, so half of martha's character is no longer swallowed up by her pining for him.

but no. instead they go and hide in racistville and martha is a servant who experiences racism/misogyny/classism and microaggressions from white people + aliens over two episodes for nearly no reason .

[soupjug]

when i say i have daily headaches i don’t mean that i get a headache once a day, i mean that from the moment i wake up to the moment i fall asleep, i have a headache. i varies in intensity but it never goes away. and i feel like there’s a big difference that the people around aren’t understanding

[p0ison-moon]

i overheard this random old dude outside of synagogue earlier today (right after services when everyone stands around and talks minus the kiddush part) saying that lots of young Jews, especially from day schools and similar places, are leaving the community because they open their eyes and learn real values and then they feel betrayed by the institutions that lied to them. and then I was going to go talk to him because a) literally that is exactly what I experienced and what I’m still dealing with, b) there are basically no adults or even teenagers at my synagogue who agree with me or can have like. productive conversations about Israel with me, and c) where did this guy get the courage to lecture a bunch of typical synagogue-goers about Zionism on Yom Kippur and can I please be more like that. but then he disappeared before I could get to him :(

[chisatowo]

Oh I forgot to mention in the tags of the last post but Risa's palm pad thing has a kinda similar purpose to the leg and tail film? Like it can indent and stretch out and be used as a suction cup of sorts

[this-doesnt-endd]

Theres one local theatre in my town thats at the end of the line of the bus route and theyll do throwback movies and a lot of the times its 80s movies and with the new 4k version of risky business on the horizion i desperatly need them to show it

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns