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chattahoochiecoochie · 2 years

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Audience

Summary: A girlfriend wakes up in bed with her boyfriend(s), and an audience.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Exhibitionism / Excessive Roughness / Voyeurism

A/N: For starters, I strictly watch college football so this whole AFC nonsense is beyond my understanding. If it doesn’t involve an SEC school, I’m not watching. Second off, y’all don’t even want to know how long I sat at my desk looking like a lunatic trying to figure out the physical bit of it all. Madness. If you hate it, I’m innocent. If you love it, I’m gods gift to you. Anyways, find the rest here.

It’s warm when you wake up, a mix of sunlight and body heat radiating over the bed. Sam is already awake on your left, sitting with a water glass in one hand and his phone in the other. With a leg tangled between yours and a hand on your stomach, Joe is on your right, still snoring faintly, the tiniest little sound bleeding out as his chest rises and falls.

Slipping out of his reach, you curl against Sam’s waist, burying your head against his thigh—taking the covers with you to shield yourself from the sun that’s slipping through a gap in the curtains. For half a second, you miss your own bed and the fact that you wake up to windows facing the west most days.

A heavy breath passes through your nose, and you can feel Sam shift beside you. If he’s noticed you’re awake, he doesn’t say anything outright. There’s a shuffle above you, the sound of glass meeting wood as he sets his water down on the nightstand. Soon after, there's a rustle of bed sheets and then a hand on the back of your skull, fingers tangled in your hair. You sigh subconsciously at the sensation, forgetting the thought of your own bed entirely. The attention that's paid to you in this one is worth being woken up by the sun. Smiling softly against his waist, you nuzzle your nose into his boxers.

“Baby?” His voice is low and tentative, sending a warm tingle down your spine. You move against him, letting the duvet slip down from where you’ve been holding it.

The movement answers for you, and slowly but surely, his hand falls from your head as he slides his calloused palm beneath your shirt and over your skin until he lands on the spot between your shoulder blades. Clipped nails scrap against your spine, short up and down motions until you shiver beneath his hand.

With heavy eyes and an arm keeping the pillowy cotton of the comforter at bay, you peek up at him, blinking slowly through the sunlight. He’s looking at you, phone forgotten in his lap. Blue eyes red-rimmed, face slack and tired. It makes you wonder how long he’s been up. It's not unusual for him to be up before you and Joe, often falling victim to his internal clock. But he deserved to sleep in today—with last night’s game and subsequent win—they both deserved a day or two in bed if they wanted it.

You smile softly at him, releasing the comforter altogether in favor of clinging to him. Winding an arm around his waist, you find the other side of his boxers and let yourself play with the band while he waits for you to get your bearings. He’s gentle with you in the mornings, they both are—whether you wake up in their bed or your own—keen on the way you take forever to come to.

“Morning, babygirl.” It’s raspy, said in the same low voice as before. You’re slow to respond, smiling softly at him as the words fall over you.

“Morning, champ.”

His mouth quirks at the nickname, lips curling into an easy smile as he draws his hand upwards, dragging on your spine to reach the base of your neck, tussling your hair until he’s caught in it.

“You sleep okay? Last night was a lot.” He’s earnest, eyes searching your face for an answer before you can even think to give one. The truth is, it’s the best night sleep you’ve had in a while.

Exhausted by the game and the revolving door of tweaked knees, you’d been unprepared for the whirlwind that came after the win. In an instant, they’d gone from third and goal to six points up, with the AFC north championship secured for a second year running. It was madness. The aftermath on the field, the cigars in the locker room amongst a swarm of press personnel. The partying afterward downtown, with fans on every corner.

By the time the three of you stumbled out of an Uber at nearly three in the morning, you could hardly keep your head up or your eyes open. You can pick out flashes of it—them giggling and screaming up the driveway, sudden hushed tones when you’d gotten through the door and into the dark. Someone had carried you up the stairs to bed. Someone else had undone your shoes and gotten you out of your dress. It was a blur, and the sheets had been so warm and so sweet—you’d been gone the moment your head hit the pillow.

You don’t tell him this, instead smiling to yourself as the image of him in the end zone, staring up at the scoreboard, crosses your mind. “I’m good. It was good.” You say, fingers playing across his abdomen. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Yeah?” He’s smirking softly at you, never one to shy away from praise. His success matters to him, and he’s eager to know if it matters to someone else, to you.

You watch with a tired smile as he slides down into the bed next to you, rolling onto his side to face you, smirk permanent on his lips when he’s finally at eye level. His brow is raised, daring you to praise him again. You do.

“Very. You are,” You pause momentarily, pretending to think hard about your next words. “The best defensive back I know.”

“So you know a lot then?” He plays at curiosity, feigning jealousy. You shrug at him, trying to seem playfully nonchalant.

“A few.”

“They’re not like,” He glances down at the mattress for a moment before looking up at you through his lashes, letting them flutter for dramatic effect. The effort makes you giggle. “Two-time AFC North champions, though, are they?”

“Well, lets see, there's Jeff, Trey, Joseph—”

“Okay, let me ask you this then.” He wiggles next to you, putting an arm over your waist as he gets even closer. “You’re not doing all this with any of them, right?”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“You know, waking up in their bed, in their jersey, looking all pretty with your hair a mess.”

You grin at him and shake your head quickly, blushing. “Nope. That’s all you.” You look down at your chest for a second, chin tucked as you inspect the jersey you’re wearing. Glancing back up at him, you smirk. “I think this is Joey’s though, if that matters.”

“I’ll get over it.” His mouth is over yours, the stubble on his chin scratching your skin as he kisses you. He’s softer than usual, dulled by the night before. The hand on your waist is steady, slipping slowly until he’s cupping your face and pressing you into your pillow, tongue sliding on your lip. You let him in, relaxed by his touch.

For a moment, you stay there, underneath him, feeling hazy. He’s easy on you, all smiles and playful bites. Smirking against him, you feel your jaw slacken when his teeth hit yours. He smiles at the contact, grinning against you. Nipping gently at you, his hand leaves your face, pulling what's left of the comforter off of you.

You shiver at the sudden change in temperature, clinging to him as he takes its place over your body. Leg draped over your thighs, he kisses you deeper, sighing when you make a sound under him. He’s sweeter this morning than he often is, gentle as his tongue sweeps over yours. Sweeter still when his hand ghosts over your chest, skimming your breast before landing on your hip, holding you steady when you writhe beneath him.

Arms around his neck, you roll into him, whimpering when your hip meets the heat growing between his legs. It’s searing, pouring off of him in slow, steady waves. You’re so close to him, but if you could just—

You stop short as the mattress dips on the other side of you. Sam goes still on you, watching closely from the corner of his eye as Joe squirms beneath the sheets beside you, shifting closer to you until an arm finds its way around your waist and he pulls his weight to your back, fingers splayed to clutch you tightly.

“Joey?” Asks Sam, peering over you with a brow quirked.

“Morning.” The blond has his face buried in your jersey, drawing shallow breaths against the fabric. He’s warm, the sleepy kind that’s soft and almost damp. He’s hardly awake, it seems, still heavy and rigid on the bed beside you.

“There’s the big guy. How you feeling, buddy?” Sam’s attention fractures and you move against him impatiently, mind clouded by the nerves that had just begun to wind in your stomach.

“That’s king in the north, to you.” You can feel him smile against you as he moves behind you, slipping the jersey off your shoulder to leave a kiss in its place.

“Woke up with an ego, huh?” The words are half lost when he kisses you again. Finally. Forehead against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles against you, there’s a soft smirk playing on his lips when you peck at him, a whine in your throat.

“Something like that. Y’all in the middle of something, or?” Joe leans over your shoulder, resting his chin on your collarbone as Sam nips at your lips, taunting you every time you buck up against his weight.

“Sort of.” It's playful, Sam’s tone. Gentle and teasing, but guilt strikes you anyways, splitting the warmth between your legs like a knife when you glance back to see Joe looking curious.

It’s never been one without the other—ever. Your brow knits in sudden panic. “Did—we can—”

“—Go ahead, then. I’ll watch.” He says it plainly, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. He’ll watch.

Sam looks at you, a familiar glint in his blue eyes. “What’d you say, baby? You wanna give Joey a show?” Your lips part, an answer catching on your tongue. Yes, you want to say, but all you can manage is some sort of nervous squeak.

Understanding you in a way that only they can, the grin on Sam’s face stretches wide. Arm around you, he rolls onto his back, pulling you onto his bare chest. The tired sweetness from before is forgotten, replaced by all the aggression you know he’s capable of.

He’s heavy on you, everywhere all at once. Nails dig into the skin of your thigh before dragging deep scratches up your hip. Hand under your jersey, he’s got his palm on your breast, pressure mounting as he works his fingers over your flesh. It’s blinding—the swell of nerves that flash down your spine with every touch. You fumble next to him, knees weak and hands uncertain as you grasp at him.

He’s enormous compared to you and impossible to grasp at. Going for his waist, where you know you can at least hold the band of his boxers, you miss, skimming his front instead. You groan, lips parted as he kisses you hard—forcing the air out of your lungs as his hand finds your throat.

“Slower Sammy, let her catch up.” Behind you, Joe speaks up, gentle as ever. You’re suddenly aware of him once more, registering the dip in the mattress as he adjusts himself. On you, Sam’s slow to the take, grunting incoherently before finding some of the patience that comes so easily to Joe.

You gasp as his hand relaxes on your neck. Reaching again for the band of his boxers, and with more focus than before, you find the elastic, letting your fingers slip over it to touch the curve of his adonis belt. Sam makes a sound, bucking his hips into your hand. There’s a whine on his tongue when he kisses you next, lips pouting on yours. Hand over yours he pushes your fingers down, holding them over the fabric.

“Tell her what you want.” As if he has to. You can feel him in your hand, heavy and hard and waiting. Needing.

“Touch me.” His voice is raw, husky. You tremble against him, shaking hands tugging at the checkered cotton until he’s bare in your hand. Cradling your head, he’s light underneath you, watching through dark eyes as you touch him.

He shudders, twitching in your hand as his hips buck involuntarily. You glance up at him, blushing when you find his jaw slack, head dropped against the wall. Slowly, you feel him out, dragging your nails up his shaft, delighted when he trembles again. He’s in a plain state of agony, straining to trust you, to be patient.

“Like this?” Brushing your thumb across the head, you look back at Joe. Curious eyes finding his, you let your brow quirk, feigning innocence. He nods at you, mouth set in a tight line. Just like that.

Wrapping your fingers around him, you gently stroke him again before bringing your hand to your mouth. The sound you make is indecent, dribbling as you spit into your palm. Seconds later, you’re reaching for him again only to find his hand in your place, pulling hard.

Putting your hand under his, you do your best to follow his pace, stroking with him until his hand falls to the mattress, limp as he lets you take over. “That’s it. Don’t forget the rest of him, either, pretty girl.”

Beside you, Joe’s flat on his back, head turned to watch you as he rubs a palm over the front of his briefs. His eyes are heavy, voice thick when he speaks. He’s watching you alright, and liking it too.

You follow his instructions, looking over your shoulder at him as you let your nails drag over Sam’s balls, drawing out a loud groan when you roll them between your fingers. You forget them only a second later, pulling your fist back up his shaft as his body rotates into you. Brows knit together, you keep stroking, lip pulled between your teeth as you split your focus between the two of them.

“Baby…” Picking his head up, Sam looks down at your hand, patience waning. “Please.”

“Don’t be mean to him. Go on and use that pretty little mouth.” You glance back at him, shivering as a pulse runs down your legs. Put your mouth on him. Give Joey a show.

Shimmying down the mattress, you’ve got your eyes on Joe when your lips find Sam, tongue sliding over the tip to taste the fluid leaking from it. He’s warm and salty on your lips when you put your mouth over him. The weight of him, the feeling of their eyes on you—you’re drooling in an instant.

“Look at him.” Joe nods towards Sam, rubbing himself steady over his briefs as a stain starts to pool on the fabric. “Look at her Sammy, being so good.”

You can see him above you through your lashes, right hand clutching at his chest, left hand searching for something to hold. He’s got his eyes open, jaw slack. You fight a smirk, hollowing your cheeks instead before taking him deeper. He’s too big and too thick to take for so long, but you try anyway, gagging and drooling as you lose your breath.

“That’s a good girl. Go slow. In through your nose.” Joe’s steady beside you when you glance sideways at him. He’s nodding, baby blue eyes looking eagerly at you. “Hold her head, Sam.”

Moments later, his fingers are in your hair, gripping you tight as he holds you on himself, forcing you down further. He’s deep, pushing past what you can take, and you can feel tears pricking at your eyes. It’s so much at once—too much—and then he’s giving you slack, watching closely through heavy eyes as you cough and gag when his hips relax.

The motion repeats over and over again. Too deep, for too long, and then a second to yourself until tears are running down your face. You’re rubbing your thighs together, watching Joey with panicked eyes as he mouths off more instructions to Sammy. You can hear him, see him, but it’s too much to focus on him as you struggle to breathe.

“Touch.” You catch him saying. Touch what? “Touch him.”

You do, weak hand at the base of his shaft, fingers dragging over his balls as he bucks up into your mouth. His hand is tight in your hair, hips sharp as he thrusts himself into your mouth, meeting the back of your throat with a groan.

“Fuck, Joey. I can’t—” The hand on you goes limp, falling to the mattress as he spills into your mouth, pooling on your tongue until you can do little else but swallow and drool. It’s warm, familiar, and the finality of it makes you sigh heavily as you collapse onto his lap.

It’s quiet for a moment, save for Sam’s racing heartbeat and your own shaky breath. Joe’s somewhere close, looming next to you when you finally summon the strength to open your eyes. Your lips are tacky, and you swallow hard before licking at them, a shallow mewl slipping out when you taste what’s left behind.

Leaning up next to you, Joe’s reaching for you, wiping the drool from your chin with his thumb before bringing it to his lips. He sucks it off with a playful moan, trademark spark in his eyes. “You’re all tuckered out, huh?”

You mumble something that sounds like a yes, struggling to keep your eyes open, and he laughs softly, stroking your chin once more. “Sammy, what about you, big guy?”

“I’m good. I’m good. Where’s she at?” He’s breathing heavily, gasping in between sentences. A heavy hand swats your head, fingers grabbing at nothing before finding a bit of tangled hair to grasp at. He tugs at it, pulling gently at you like some sort of overgrown child. “Give her here.”

“You sure?”

“Please.” Lifting you with delicate hands, Joe helps you crawl up Sam’s lap until you’re resting on his abdomen, fingers playing across his ribs as you settle into him. He’s warm, damp with a faint sheen of sweat. Breathing deep, you press your nose against him. It’s musky, an indistinct powdery smell drowned out by something vaguely acidic. You’ll never be over it, the scent of them lingering on your skin, on the sheets, on the clothes they let you borrow.

A memory of the night before flashes through your mind—Joey’s slipping his jersey over your head in the locker room, grinning at you. You can still smell the nylon, the scent of sweat and pinewood that stayed on your mind all night long, standing in his place when he wasn’t at your side. You can smell it now, just barely there, if you focus hard enough.

You look up at the blond in question, eyes softening when you find his face. There's stubble on his chin and bags under his eyes, yet somehow he’s just as handsome as ever. Smiling, you reach for him, searching for a bit of skin to touch, for something to hold on to.

“I’m right here.” He says, taking your hand as he makes space for himself beside the two of you, head falling onto Sam’s shoulder. “I’m right here, pretty girl.”

A/N: I think its safe to say my niche is funny dialogue, but hey if you don’t get out of your depth you’ll never learn. That being said, it’s back to brocedes for now.

#i have digital blindness from staring at my laptop so long but whatever #its fine #I'm fine #its race week and i have a thousand things to do but its fine!!#chattahoochiecoochie writes #boyfriends!#joe burrow #sam hubbard #joe burrow x reader #sam hubbard x reader #joe burrow smut #sam hubbard smut #bengals smut #nfl smut #joe burrow fic #sam hubbard fic

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

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John Price meeting civilian reader scenario (part 2)

Part 1

Masterlist

The alarm sets off so early the next morning, you feel, like you've just closed your eyes a few minutes ago. You drag yourself out from a comfort of your warm blanket and head to the bathroom.

As you are standing there before the mirror, brushing your teeth, you remember, that yesterday you invited a man you've only known a few hours for today's walk. Sounds unsafe, but then again that smile, that deep voice and muffled croaky chuckles...

Someone may call you reckless, but you call it a risk worth taking. Plus, if you never come back from that walk with him - that means, that your vacation never actually ends. So there are bright sides to even the worst possible outcomes.

In half an hour, you step out of your cabin fully prepared. Deep inside, you are ready to go on your hike alone, if the guy doesn't show up.

But Price already waits for you, leaning on the bench where you chatted yesterday. He looks at you with a smirk.

"How do you look so alive It's not even 5 am now!" - you whine, jealous of his fresh look despite the early hour.

Instead of answering, he hands you his thermos. You open and sniff it. The aroma is faintly reminiscent of coffee...

"Careful. Just a sip." - he says quietly.

You take a tiny sip and cover your mouth with your hand to keep from spitting out the contents. This drink really remotely resembles coffee. Coffee, if mixed with earth, pieces of peat and liquid fire. You cough so hard that your body trembles and tears come to your eyes. "What the bloody... thing is it? Biohazard home brew?"

He tries to hold back his laughter, but he can't. "Sorry, I thought I brewed it softer than usual today." he smiles as he takes the thermos from you and wipes a tear from your cheek.

Moving out on the road, you still occasionally cough. He is genuinely remorseful, though he can't help but smile when you turn away.

You reach the trail just as fog begins to descend from the hills covered with fir trees. The first rays of the sun break through the branches. You take out your camera and turn it on.

"Ok, now I'll go a few steps ahead, and you will be in charge of navigation" - you give him a printed map of your route.

"Add an external observation to that, and I might as well charge you for my services..." - he murmurs under his breath, as you proceed to film your walk.

He inadvertently approaches you several times and almost overtakes you. You have to catch him by the sleeve of his jacket and gently pull him back so that he doesn't get into the frame.

"Sorry, John, I just want those videos to be only about nature. When we come back, I'll show you how good it looks, I promise" - you whisper.

He doesn't mind, though. Fresh and calm morning nature, crisp air, the view he gets, following you from behind... No, he doesn't mind at all.

He likes to silently follow you, occasionally directing you by the shoulder on the cross paths.

This feels like a perfect combination of something he's good at (taking care and guiding) and something he craves (to have a rest).

He even regrets that time has flown by so quickly when you return.

You show him your YouTube channel with silent walking videos, and he is absolutely delighted.

"So there is a right side of this bloody circus after all! I thought it was just an endless chaotic party being translated there." He sighs in relief and turns on your next video.

You wonder what exactly he means by "a right side" of YouTube, but decide to leave him in peace as he's browsing through your vids.

When you are out of sight, he discreetly pulls out his reading glasses, puts them on and writes your channels name down in a little notebook. Then he thinks for a couple of seconds and writes its address down too.

Yes, this whole "...tube.com/channel/UClD8....." stuff. Just to be sure, you know?

After this vacation, your channel has seen a huge increase in viewing statistics.

Price revisits your videos in any free minute.

Others in the Task Force 141 notice that their captain has begun to spend more time at the computer, although they couldn’t even drag him there by force before.

"So when I make time to find and share something funny with your ingrate asses - I'm to be yelled at, but when the captain rewatches a walk down some road in a random forest for several hours - this is not a problem for you?" - Soap grunts at dinner.

No one answers him, because your vids became kind of meditation sessions to a half of the team, since Price shared them with others.

Price leaves awkwardly formal commentaries under every your video.

Like "Dear content creator, I want to send my sincere gratitude for your taking the time to make this video. I genuinely appreciate your enthusiasm for sharing this walk of yours with us all. Thank you again for your dedication."

Gaz can't stand such a level of cringe and shows Price, that there is an "about the channel" info section out there, with your email in it. Just in case, Price wanted to... express his gratitude to you more privately.

"I never asked for it!" - snarls Price, but ends up emailing you as soon as Gaz is out of his sight.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mv2 #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #price x reader #captain price #price mw2 #john price #captain price imagine #captain price x reader #captain price x you #price imagine #john price fanfic #john price mw2

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popculturebuffet · 3 months

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Next up for Cartoon Network era of shows, who is your favorite character from each of the 2000-03 half of the Cartoon Cartoons-era shows you've seen like: Sheep in the Big City, Time Squad, Samurai Jack, Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy, Evil Con Carne, Whatever Happened to Robot Jones, Codename Kids Next Door, and Star Wars Clone Wars 2003?

I realize now this was about CHARACTERS not just the shows in general. Since I did on the first one though, i'll give my opinons AND the characters to split the diffrence. First covering last time Dexter's Lab, Johnny Bravo, Cow & Chicken, I Am Weasel, The Powerpuff Girls 1998, Ed Edd n Eddy, Mike Lu and Og, and Courage the Cowardly Dog.

In order: DL: Dexter's Dad, easily one of Jeff Bennet's performances and I feel bad I had no idea it was him ands not phil hartman. Johnny Bravo: Carol, as him dating an antelope is just.. such a hilariousl awkward concept, and this is coming from a guy who dosen't have the best cringe comedy tolerance. Chronos MASTER OF TIME and the Nixon Shark are both close seconds. Cow and Chicken: The Big Red Guy: the sohw itself may be mixed but god I love him IAW: Weasel. Easily The Power Puff Girls: Hmmm this is a hard one but due to a thing i'm working on and his general meanace I have to go with him. He had a uniqueness to his apperances: It was always going to be terrifying unless it was with other villians and always something unique and memorable. EEE: Ed. He's truly the best and a meme machine fo ra reason Mike Lu and Og: Mike herself whose a nice mix of ignoarant yet still savy. Courage: The boy himself out of the main cast though pretty much every character here is fantastic. Kitty out of the antagonists, as she's the most tragic, has a truly creepy deisgn and was a gay character long before that was common OKay now onto the next era Sheep in the Big City: This is one I need to rewatch as my recent kablam retrospective (Please check it out), had me rewatch the off beats and I like Willems sense of humor and might ge tit more. The sheep himself is my faviorite, having a great design, likeable demeanor and nice bleats. Time Squad: Another one I need to revisit and a true classic: Simple premise, hilaroius characters and Larry 3000 is easly my faviorite. C3PO if they meant for him to be gay. Samurai Jack: Like most of these in this installment I need to revisit it. One of the best cartoons ever. Havne't checked out the last season, hear mixed things. Faviroite is the scotsman: he's hilaroius, fun to watch and a nice counterpart to jack being just as capable but everything our boy isn't. Billy and Mandy: A comedy classic. A bit too mean for i'ts own good sometimes, but a truely great horror comedy most of the time: creative premise, truly stacked cast of side characters, and richard steven horvitz greatest performance til lhelluva boss (zim is VERY close to billy though. ) Faviorite character is asking a lot of me, but I have to go with my childhood faviorite, Dracula. He could've aged poorly and shoudl have, he is making fun of blaxplotatoin.. but he never feels like a black sterotype, just a cranky throughly weird old man Evil Con Carne: One I need to revisit, yes AGAIN, and a show I always felt was undereatted. It just never took off the way Billy and Mandy did and you can tell maxwell atoms still had affection for it given he both ported skar over to billy and mandy (A really great decision and one I dearly love) and brought hector and ghastly back for one last hurrah. It was also one of my first exposures to Grey DeLise and Armin Shimmerman (Though I jus tlearned about the latter), and one of Phil LaMarr's best roles. With that last qualifier, Hector is my faviorite: his pomoposity, voice and being shoved in a bear are all great.

Whatever Happened to Robot Jones?: Need to revisit it you know the drill. Has a great title character, also my faviorite, concept but I don't remember it a ton. KND: Easily my third faviorite Cartoon Network show. A gloriously built world that's both nicely detailed and approriately childish, and a show that evolved from a pretty one note premise to a truly wonderfully thought out masterpiece that parodied just about everything with a nice chunk of x-men refrences. Faviorite is Numbah 2. Hoagie is just the best and his solo adventures tended to be some of the best of the series.

Clone Wars (Genndy's Version): Another one that, say it with me now "I need to revisit" and a true classic. Beautifully animated, great to watch. I will say the second season isn't quite AS good, trying a bit harder to be a lead int oa movie loosing the sheer flexiblity and cretivity season 1 had. I mean season 1 has mace windu going bare fisted monk on a bunch of droids alongside the ongoing arcs about ventress and whatever his name was. It also made general grevous a massive disapointment in the films.

#cartoon network #star wars clone wars #kids next door #whatever happened to robot jones #evil con carne #the grim adventures of billy and mandy #sheep in the big city #samurai jack

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sleekervae · 1 year

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So Good [0.1]

Masterlist

A/N: Hello, this is another new project I've had lurking in the scenes for a while. It's meant to serve as a sequel to Yoü & I, though it works as a definite stand alone. I have this vice where I love putting a lot of angst in my stories -- mostly the "will they won't they" plot line tangled with challenging personal comforts or societal expectations and this story will have a lot of that. I hope you all like it, and any new readers I can bring to my platform are more than welcome to hang out, come chat, pop open a soda if you like :)

Summary: When BTS made their American debut, Namjoon was expecting throngs of screaming fans swarming the stadiums; he was expecting intense media coverage, three or four hours of sleep per night, and his boys’ endless shenanigans. He wasn't expecting to become captivated by Kimberly Rothstein on stage, the bassist for the then up-and-coming girl band taking the world by storm.

Purple text is Korean

Warnings: none yet, future spoilers for Yoü & I

November 19th, 2017

Namjoon was seriously beginning to regret wearing his leather jacket.

It was still light outside as they posed for pictures on the carpet and the sun was burning more intensely than he had prepared for. He was left feeling stifled and uncomfortable, a sharp contrast to the cool dressing room he was getting ready in an hour ago. Namjoon was grateful at least he'd remembered to wear a pair of comfortable shoes for the carpet photos, the band had already been standing out there for well over thirty minutes, shuffling between flashing cameras to three-minute interviews.

Stepping inside was an instant cooling relief. He puffed his hair off his forehead by the time they were in the venue, annoyed as his hair product wasn't holding like it should've. He wondered what he'd look like if he buzzed all of his hair off or changed his style completely. As they were ushered over to their seats, Namjoon was considering their upcoming performance, mentally making notes off all his own weak points to ensure everything ran smoothly. This was their American debut after all, everything had to be just perfect.

"Do they serve snacks?" Jungkook asked, gazing around the room at the throngs of people filing in. Namjoon wasn't sure if he was looking for a particular celebrity or a concession stand.

Taehyung bumped him, "What, you think we're at the movies?" he scolded.

Jimin piped in, "They serve 'em at sports arenas!"

"This isn't a sports arena, guys!" Namjoon scolded them, "Besides, we already ate at the hotel, and we can eat after the show,"

"But --!" Jungkook began, though he relented when Namjoon gave him the look. The look that reminded him that he, all of them, had to be professional. Jungkook sat back in his seat.

Hobi nudged the younger boy, pulling a bag of trail mix out of his pocket, "Don't worry, I got us covered," he smiled as Jungkook's face lit up.

Namjoon couldn't help but snigger at them, lifting his gaze back to the stage, his knee was bouncing as he was eager to see the show proceed on. More people were filing in in front of them, some more famous faces he recognized, some he didn't.

In the row before them a group of four girls shuffled their way in, their chatter lost in the buzz around them. The first was a striking Latina, Namjoon could assume she was the leader of the group from the way she carried herself, slipped past people to make a trail for her girls. Behind her was a mousy brunette, slender and unassuming, she appeared quite shy as she held herself whilst following the first girl. Her friend in behind had brightly dyed hair, half neon green half fiery pink, holding hands with the last girl behind her. Namjoon swallowed hard when he got a look at her.

He knew it could have only lasted for a few seconds, that there was no way in which the consistency of time could have altered for him and his own sudden and ridiculous infatuation, he could have sworn then, just for a moment, as he laid eyes on her for the first time, that all the chaos fell deadly still around him and begged him to notice her.

And notice her he did.

Her captivating smile and the tiny creases around her eyes as she laughed at her friend's joke drew him in instantly. Her thick burnt chestnut curls bounced loosely around her shoulders, the strobing purple lights were complimented against her dark complexion.

The girls came to a stop right in front of them and took their seats. As if she could feel the way in which he took her in, she slowly turned to face him, catching Namjoon off guard. He blinked once or twice, just to have something to do besides marvel at her and bit the inside of his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming, but now certain that she was looking at him, that her smile was for him -- he just about melted.

He studied the details of her heart-shaped face. Her brown eyes held a particular glimmer to them, her lips full, naturally deep pink in color and her delicate nose piercing twinkled under the light. She had a button nose and thin but smart eyebrows which framed her face perfectly. She wore a little black dress, the material of the skirt hugged her shape perfectly, the top half of her covered by a cropped leather jacket with big, clunky pinned adorning the right sleeve.

There was an abundant softness about her that made him inhale sharply, a gentility that made him feel as if he'd damage her from the intensity of his stare though she still gave off an ember of effervescent vibrance when she turned the corners of her lips up in a soft smile, his heart thudding against his ribcage just from the bravery in the way she held his gaze.

"Woah!" the girl in front of her suddenly gaped, breaking Namjoon out of his spell, "You guys are BTS, right?" the two girls in front of her turned around as well.

She was speaking in front of Suga, the shyer blonde looked both ways before nodding sheepishly, "Uh... yes! Yes," he then looked to Namjoon.

Clearing his throat, Namjoon spoke, "Sorry, they don't speak much English. Yeah, that's us," he nodded to the four of them.

The neon girl shook her other friend's shoulder, "Girl, remember I told you about these guys? They're the big boyband from Korea!"

The mousy brunette lit up, "Oh, right! Nice to meet you guys!"

Jimin looked up at her, leaning forward in his seat, " -- You too," he nodded, beaming with his big, toothy grin at her, "... You are... very... beautiful,"

The brunette giggled, flattered and taken aback, clinging to the back of her seat so she could face him properly, "Thank you. So are you," she awed. Jimin exclaimed happily, thanking her bashfully.

Neon girl turned back to Namjoon, "Is this your first time in America?" she asked.

"No, but this'll be our first performance on a big --" he waved his hands at the stage, "TV show like this,"

"I bet you guys will do great," the last girl finally spoke, her voice crisp and honeyed as she continued to smile at him.

"Thank you," he smiled back, forcing as much confidence into his voice as he could, holding out his hand, "Namjoon,"

"Kimberly," she reached forward to shake his hand, then looked to her friends, "And this is Chloe, Charlotte, and Maria," she listed her girls off by order. Maria was at the end, already piecing together some conversation with Jungkook and Taehyung.

He introduced his bandmates as well, he was hit with the sudden awareness that he was experiencing one of those grand moments which you were supposed to fully absorb and remember every detail of, pay attention to every sense so that you could recall or retell it when you were nostalgic, when you missed it, longed for the time and place of that situation instead, but he couldn't focus properly.

"You guys are a band?" he asked.

Hobi awed at him as the words barely left his mouth, "Of course they're a band! They're Catch the Caper you dummy!" he scolded.

Namjoon glowered at him, "Well, I don't know that, I'm just making conversation," he replied, "You wanna' try?"

Hobi looked at Kimberly and Chloe, but he shook his head, laughing bashfully, "No. My English not good,"

"I think you're doing just swell," Chloe replied, turning to Namjoon, "How do you say 'good job' in Korean?"

Namjoon simpered, "Jalhaess-eoyo,"

Chloe opened her mouth but closed it swiftly, shaking her head, "Mm, nope. I'm gonna' insult somebody," she chuckled as she pulled out her phone and swiped for the translate app, "Here, we'll do this instead,"

Kimberly turned back to Namjoon, smiling bashfully, "You're lucky. You missed out on her Rosetta Stone phase when we were in Japan," she said, leaning forward against her chair back, "And to answer your previous question: we are Catch the Caper. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

"I'm ashamed to say I have not. But I guess we'll fix that, right?" he didn't mean to come off so cocky, it had just sort of slipped out as a defence mechanism against the nervous knotting in his stomach, but he admired a firm nod to show that he was happy in his choice, ignored Suga's snigger from the left and tried to keep up the act of being unfazed by her.

Kimberly raised her eyebrows and suppressed a giggle that was fighting to make it easy out at the way he drawled his words, every syllable touched by confidence and a slight hint of his accent. His lips pulled into a challenging smirk; his bravado was undeniable, but she couldn't help but think he was contrastingly soft at the same time, each consuming feature of him seemingly met with a delicate counterpart.

"I hope so,"

She knew who he was as Chloe had gone on and on about him and the rest of BTS, she knew what to expect, though he still managed to take her completely by surprise, his voice and presence she found exciting all at once. His hair was perfectly messy, buzzed shorter in the back and dyed honey blonde given his dark roots, the longer strands falling over his sharp brown eyes that were inquisitive and clearly studying her back. He wore a black t-shirt that was cut just below his collar bones, black jeans and a leather jacket, and a simple silver ring on his finger. She had felt it, the cool of the metal pressing against her palm when she shook his hand.

"Anybody you hoping to meet tonight?" he asked her.

Kimberly tilted her head as she thought about it, "If I can muster the courage... Diana Ross. But if I can't, I'll settle for Selena Gomez,"

Namjoon's eyes went wide, "Wait, Diana Ross is here?" he glanced around at the front of the stage.

She glanced behind her momentarily, "They're honouring her tonight. I wanna' go say 'hi' later but I'm not sure..." she shrugged sheepishly, turning her attention back to Namjoon with a flick of her head and tried not to get caught up in his eyes.

"I'll go with you later, if you like," he offered, the words left him before he could even reason with himself.

Kimberly chuckled, "Maybe, sure," she couldn't tell whether he was kidding with her or he was serious, nevertheless decided that it was simply wishful thinking.

"So, I know this one's a fan," he nodded to Chloe, who was wrapped up in a google translate conversation with Hobi, "Do you know our music?" Kimberly titled her head into her palm to respond.

"Well, Chlo's been playing your record almost every second of every day," she replied, "And she showed me a few videos. Do you really dance that fast?"

"You don't think we can?" he raised a brow, his tone coming off teasing.

"I never said that," she chuckled back, "But she showed me some of the moves for... oh gosh, what was it? There was a lot of like --" she started bouncing her shoulders and moving her arms up and down, not quite as stiffly as a robot.

Namjoon knew he could never perform Not Today the same way after seeing the enthusiasm in her eyes, could picture her in the crowd or at the side of the stage, her hips moving to the beat. He wondered then if he'd be able to see her from the stage tonight, if she'd keep that fearless eye contact that was slowly driving him crazy.

"I think that's the dance for Not Today," he nodded.

"Yeah, that was it!" she replied, her lips twitching with playfulness, "And I think I did not too bad of a job,"

"Not bad at all," he chuckled, "Maybe you could come do back up for us one of these days?"

Kimberly's cheeks were still burning but she gave him a tentative smile. She could tell from the corner of her eye that Maria and Charlotte were watching her, likely smirking to themselves.

"Well, I'll be here if you ever need to call out, Namjoon," she replied.

He was convinced his heart was going to crack his ribs just from the way it pounded in his chest when she said his name, the way it rolled off of her tongue and sounded more interesting that he'd ever considered it to be.

"I like that you don't know everything, though," he marvelled softly, clearing his throat again, "Means the show will be a bit of a surprise,"

She nodded back like she understood him, about to tell him she was excited to watch him perform when the lights began to dim and the ushers called out for everyone to take their seats. The show was about to start. Nevertheless, Kimberly leaned further over the chair backing to mutter quickly to him;

"I can't wait to see it," she turned around properly in her seat, as did the rest of the girls, and sat back as the opener was about to hit the stage. Namjoon tried to relax in his chair, flinching as he felt Hobi elbow him.

"She likes you," he whispered hoarsely.

Namjoon refrained from rolling his eyes, "Shut up,"

In between performances and acceptance speeches, Kimberly would turn and strike up another conversation with Namjoon, trying to keep her enthusiasm subtle. And he prayed he could keep his own elation at bay, tried to keep his composure calm but every new little thing he learned about her his fascination for her only grew.

Noticing things about Kimberly became an activity of immense enjoyment and fulfilment. There were freckles peaking out under her makeup, and tiny, almost unnoticeable indents around her nose and her lip where piercings used to be. Her fingers were slender, decorated with a series of thin gold rings which matched those in her ears and her nails were painted in a periwinkle silver that reminded him of the clouds he'd complained about before, and decided he would never complain about again.

And then there were tattoos, placed sporadically in places he could just make out. Once she took her jacket off they became much more visible, and while she didn't have as many as Charlotte clearly had, Namjoon couldn't help but take interest in them.

"I like your tattoos," he said.

"Thanks," she nodded, "You got any?"

"Just one," he lifted his knee and rested his foot on the edge of his seat, lifting his pant leg to reveal the crisp 7 on his ankle.

"Cool. You want another one?"

"Not right now. What about you?"

"Maybe. I got too many ideas and that's dangerous," she laughed. One of the most curious she had was a collection of very detailed flowers wrapped around her forearm.

"This flower one is cool," he said, leaning forward and suddenly touching her arm.

He hadn't intended to get that close, or strike over the tattoo with his fingertip even but he was now, following the trail of ink of the petals. He licked his lips as he suddenly realized what he was doing, driven crazy by the realization that he was touching her, could feel the tension of the moment lining his gut and he blinked and swallowed a couple of times. Being so close to her, he could inhale her scent finally, there were notes of sandalwood, jasmine, and vanilla and he couldn't help but lose his mind in the bliss of it.

Kimberly couldn't breathe, didn't understand what he was doing or if he even know what he was doing, but her heart was pounding faster than what should've been possible. His fingertip was slightly calloused and she curious to know why, wondering about whether he was good with his hands and she suddenly had the craving for a strong drink.

"They're asters," she mumbled suddenly, her breath caught in her throat.

"What?" he asked, lifting his eyes slowly back to hers after staring at the tattoo for so long.

His eyes were incredible.

Namjoon's eyes were darker now but the light was still there, shining and indicative. She sat back on her knees so that his hand dropped and smoothed her hair behind her ears to cover up her fluster.

As the moment slipped away, Namjoon could feel his ears turning red with embarrassment, heard the small snigger from Jin, felt Maria's eyes on him. He sat back in his seat.

"Aster flowers. They're are representative of wisdom and royalty," Kimberly nodded, "It's the birth flower for September,"

"No way," he marvelled, "My birthday's in September!" he was both excited by the prospect of changing the subject and at the coincidence she had a tattoo that was linked to him.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jin, who was clearly having fun watching his friend struggle, could read from the way he was acting just how enamoured he was with Kimberly and could see she'd been affected by him too. But Jin kept his mouth shut, nodding enthusiastically to Namjoon to help him out a little.

"Yeah, well, so's my mom's..." Kimberly responded, the corners of her lips turned up at his excitement.

"Well, what would be the odds?" he chuckled back, the light shining in Kimberly's eyes reflecting at him and making him feel flustered. Across the row Taehyung had called for his attention, wanting him to translate something for him and Maria.

With Namjoon distracted, Kimberly found the courage to meet Charlotte's stare at last, look her best friend in the eyes and have one of their telepathic conversations.

She gazed knowingly at the bassist, he likes you.

She rolled her eyes, stop it.

The judgement and intrigue in Charlotte's expression wasn't hard to read and Kimberly knew that she had been watching her the entire time, had seen her flinch when he came close, had seen the bright flush of her face, watched her turn giddy and giggly like a school-girl, but she shook her head back at her to brush off anything more she could suggest.

Namjoon came back a moment later, smiling politely, his eyes crinkled and narrowed and his hand narrowly missed the arm rest as he sat down. Kimberly giggled at his clumsy. His eyes traced the outline of the tattoo again as he made his way back to her eyes.

"So..." he mumbled.

"So..." she smiled back.

"What's your birth flower, Kimberly?" he drawled, wrinkling his sharp nose at her, "Maybe I get yours tattooed on me and we'll match,"

The laugh.

He watched her shoulders shake, her hair bounce as creases appeared around her eyes, the giggle that turned into exuberant laughter, her tiny snort of amusement at the end flushing her cheeks all over again and he was consumed. He knew he wasn't in love exactly, but he loved the feeling of seeing happiness coursing through her, couldn't shake the way it him illogically happy.

"Red geranium," she chuckled at last.

"What month's that?"

"November 4th, 1996," she replied with a grin. She knew he'd want every detail eventually and found herself simultaneously wanting him to know.

"Happy birthday," he nodded, making a mental note, "What's the word again, when you wish someone a late birthday?"

"Belated,"

"Right. Thank you,"

Kimberly's face ached from smiling. When she looked back into those brown eyes, the word dreamy was the first that came to mind and he was charming, handsome too, so ridiculously handsome it made her stomach knot. Every word he spoke she found herself paying attention to each syllable, a sense of warmth and comfort in the natural timbre of his drawl, a hint of intelligence in the way he spoke. She wonder if it was obvious that she was hooked on knowing him, on the suspense of what if.

"So... your tour's been good?" she asked. There was something about him that provided a deeper level of interest and intrigue than she was used to, his Tony movements and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke exciting. She crossed her heels behind her.

"So far. I mean, I'm tired..." he mumbled, laughing at himself, "But I enjoy it a lot,"

"Me too," she tutted, "We must be insane,"

"But the travelling is the biggest perk for me," he noted.

"Oh, for sure. But... I also value my sleep," she chuckled.

"Not a morning person?" he asked.

"Not at all," she shook her head, "You?"

"I've kind of had to become one with these guys. But I prefer to get naps in," he told her, flicking his eyebrows up, "... a lot,"

She laughed, picturing his lumbering figure curled up in a tour bus or small couch while everyone else was wide awake, or him with his head lolling onto someone's shoulder. She wondering if he snored, if he was a peaceful sleeper, if he tossed and turned in the night.

"But I love putting on a good show for everybody -- how tired I get doesn't matter when I'm up there, you know?"

She nodded, but he internally scolded himself. Of course she had to know, but then he couldn't wrap his head around how this tiny, humble girl could transform into a rockstar and give stunning performances when she had a bass guitar and people were screaming for her. Of course she had to appreciate the energy and the passion they both had for music.

"Oh, absolutely. Some of our fanbase is still pretty young, but seeing them get so passionate and inspired at our shows... it's all worth it," she mired, "Where are you off to after this?"

"To my hotel, probably,"

She simpered, "I mean where are you traveling next?"

Namjoon scratched at his nose in thought.

"Uhh... we got some more shows across Europe and then we head back home for the holidays for a couple weeks. After that we tour back through Asia..."

"What part's your favourite?" she asked.

"Singapore for sure. So friggin' beautiful," he smiled.

"Oh, yeah! Darius went last year!" Kimberly chirped, glancing peripherally at Charlotte, "He wouldn't stop going on about it,"

Darius?

"Wait, I might've missed something," he chuckled awkwardly, glancing at the other faces in the aisle than raising his brows in confusion, "Who's Darius?"

"Right -- sorry. My boyfriend,"

He flinched.

No.

No way.

Namjoon felt his heart sink, his jaw drop a little and he tensed to stop himself from overreacting.

"Oh, you got a boyfriend?" he nearly sputtered in shock.

He could feel all the eyes in the room seemingly burning into him. Jin, not really able to keep up with their conversation, could nevertheless recognize the defeat in Namjoon's face, and he seemed just as surprised and almost as heartbroken as he was. Charlotte was suddenly attentive to their conversation, Chloe and Maria were still attempting to keep the rest of the guys' attention occupied. But worst of all was Kimberly's expression, blinking brightly like her words hand't just cursed him entirely.

"... Do I not look like I have a boyfriend?" she laughed. There was a hint of feigned insult in her voice but he could tell she was only joking.

"I didn't mean it like that," he clamoured hastily, holding his hands up in defence, "It's just... you took me off guard, is all..."

"Right..." she continued slowly, trying to read his reaction. HIs head dipped a little now, that fearless eye contact broken and she felt bad for a split second that she hadn't clarified the detail the had obviously upset him, panicked at the thought she'd accidentally given him the wrong idea somewhere amongst their conversation, "I'm sorry, I should've said something..."

"No, it's okay," he muttered, fiddling with his ring anxiously before he found the courage to meet her gaze again, "You said he had a good time? In Singapore?"

"Yeah," Kimberly nodded back, forcing a smile through the lull in conversation.

A silence filled the air and she tried to think of something, anything to say that would ease the tension she was sure she'd unintentionally created. The tension was clear to both bands, awkward and still. Chloe and Hobi just looked blankly at each other, Suga and Taehyung were confused as they tried to figure out what was happening, Charlotte had averted her gaze from Jimin to the ground and Maria and Jungkook were still trying to have some sort of conversation to keep the spirit up. Right on cue, one of the venue ushers approached the girl band, letting them know it was time for them to hit the stage.

"Okay, let's go girls," Maria called, patting Charlotte on the back.

Jungkook cleared his throat, "Good luck," he said, scratching at his neck awkwardly as he looked to Namjoon. Charlotte, Chloe and Kimberly stood up and began to file after Maria. Kimberly gave Namjoon one last fleeting glance, guilt clouding her gaze. Nevertheless he smiled at her, wishing her well.

"Break a leg," he said, trying to keep his shaky composure together.

He couldn't decide what he wanted now, thought that her watching his set and vice versa would be too agonizing now that the prospect of having her fully to himself was off the table. However, she was still full of vivacity and warmth, she still smiled at him like she'd known him her entire life, he still needed to be close to her, to know her.

"Thanks. You too," she nodded back confidently.

As they filed out of the row, Maria took Kimberly's arm and leant in close to her, dropping her voice so nobody else would hear.

"Babe, I think you just broke his heart,"

"Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, this is Catch the Caper,"

Only a few of the boys had heard of Catch the Caper, thanks to Hobi of course. They were all fascinated as the staging lights flickered white, illuminating the girls' silhouettes as the dimming lifted. A peaking guitar melody was the set up for Charlotte's heavy and heavenly voice as she opened the verse for their newest hit, 'Airhead'. Maria's guitar played heavily against the reverberation of Kimberly's bass. It was a different song that stood out from the performance line up, extremely reminiscent of the 2000s pop punk scene though nevertheless, it was clear that the self-depricaing banger had everyone by their necks.

There was no doubt in Namjoon's mind why the girls were garnering so much love and hype, their new rock sound pulled from influences like Bush and Amy Winehouse. Charlotte was a powerful singer, she could give whiplash from how quickly she switched from being soft and moody to bombastically powerful and direct in her lyrics. Maria was a passionate guitarist, hyping up the crowd before her while hitting zinging chords, all the while Chloe's pink and green hair flew wild as she drummed away, ardent but precise in every beat. And then there was Kimberly, off to stage right but involved nonetheless as she played, moving on the stage almost as much as Charlotte was.

He was transfixed by her yet again, her curls bounced fervently, her slim fingers picking away in her detailed harmonic rhythm. The lights began to flash from black to white, nearly blinding him, and he knew there was no way she could find him from up there. Nevertheless from the way she looked out into the crowd, her eyes darted across the audience as though she was doing just that. Namjoon diverted his gaze as much as he could, focusing on Charlotte hammering a high note in the chorus.

The electricity in the air was contagious. Jimin was the first in the band to jump out of his seat and start cheering them on. He and the rest of the venue had been infected with the darker pop rock energy the girls brought to a show, traditionally having been made up of performances of EDM pop hits or hip hop bangers. Not that the mashup with Khalid and Imagine Dragons wasn't great, because it was, but Catch the Caper had this spark of an element that had been missing from the music charts for a while.

The set closed out with Maria's electric guitar solo, paired with an enthusiastic drum solo from Chloe; the girl nearly knocked over her drum kit from how hard she was rocking out. Charlotte's outro was peppy and sizzling, a brutal admission of self destructive behaviour and bad habits that had to be kicked for her own good.

The adrenaline pumping through Namjoon for his own show, paired with his rapid-beating heart after their performance sat unwell with the nervousness he felt watching Kimberly. He marvelled at her talent, he never would've figured such a rock icon would be hiding within her sweet girl persona.

He wondered if it was wrong to still appreciate her even though he was broken over not being able to have her, if her boyfriend was the jealous and possessive type, if she even knew how deeply affected by her he was.

The girls took their bow and ran off stage, and no sooner did BTS have time to recover from that shock to their adrenaline when another usher approached, letting them know it was their time to get ready.

There was a brief lull whilst equipment was being swapped around and the stage was being reset for the next artist. The boys were in the green room, swapping out their black and white ensembles for something more colourful and eye catching. The energy was paralleling excitement and anxiety, the pressure of having to put on a good show for the Americans was weighing heavy on all of them.

Jin however was curious. As he loosely knotted his neck tie he strolled over to Namjoon while he sprayed some holding product in his hair.

"You look like you're about to be sick," he said.

Namjoon shook his head, "Nah, I'm good," to make his point, he set the can of hair product down and jumped up and down a few times, "I'm hyped. I'm ready,"

Jin chuckled under his breath, "Are you sure? I saw your face with Kimberly earlier,"

Namjoon scoffed, "Yeah, I think everybody did,"

Jin huffed, bringing a hand down on the younger boy's shoulder, giving him a small, rough squeeze.

"Joon, do you like her?"

"I don't know..." he shrugged off Jin's hand, "Not like I can do anything about it,"

"Because of her boyfriend?" he asked.

"And our contracts," he huffed back, checking his appearance in the mirror, popping his jacket collar, "No public dating,"

It was a sad, but in some cases, necessary truth. Dating in the idol world was considered a big no-no, for branding and investment reasons. While it sounded a little barbaric to some, the numbers for the record labels held true that BTS' public image of being 'single and available' was great for income. Namjoon had had a few relationships in his life nonetheless, some serious, some not so serious, but all of that came to a halt when the band really took off at the beginning of the year.

Jin tutted, muttering quietly to him, "Namjoon, do you like Kimberly?" he asked again.

"... I guess I do," he replied.

"Well, there's no harm in getting to know her... on a basic level," he nodded, winking at Namjoon encouragingly, "Not that you heard it from me," his glance switched to their tour manager who was thick in conversation with Suga, not paying either of the other boys any mind.

Namjoon raised his eyebrows, tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt. He too took a glance at their manager, knowing the scolding they'd get if he got wind of what they were talking about. A grin pulled into his lips as he looked back to Jin, smacking him in the arm.

The production manager for the show popped his head in, letting the band know they had ten minutes until show time. The boys made their final touches to their appearances, had one quick pep round together, and filed out accordingly.

In the chaos of production engineers, crackling radios, and an overall dark backstage, Namjoon spotted another band, The Chainsmokers, rehearsing their intro for BTS. Beside them was Catch the Caper, hurriedly packing up their instruments. Kimberly looked up in time to catch his eye, taking a tentative glance at her girls before jogging over.

"Hey,"

Jin stopped mid stride, glancing curiously at the pair while the other boys went on ahead.

"You feeling good?" she asked him, sounding solid and calm as though she hadn't just rocked out to well over a thousand people.

"I am. I'm excited," he nodded, "Your set was incredible,"

"Thanks," she smiled back, "I'm excited to see yours,"

Something in him wanted to reach out to her again, see if she flinched or relented into his touch, but he knew he couldn't and he shoved his fists into his coat pockets, fighting with his own self-control. Kimberly watched as his eyebrows knotted together, a deep crease between them which she'd never noticed before.

He chuckled nervously, "It's been really cool getting you to know you, tonight,"

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling, "You're not so bad, either,"

He glanced at the ground, licking his lips and nodding to himself as if reassuring himself of something.

"Would it be alright if I messaged you sometime?" he asked, bordering on a nervous mumble.

Her smile grew and she threw her hands over her chest.

"Shut up. You mean the great RM of BTS wants to text me? Somebody pinch me!" she gaped teasingly.

"The honour is more mine," he replied.

Namjoon simpered; he'd reasoned with himself and had come to terms with the fact that anything more than a friendship was off limits, but he wanted that at least, wanted to see her again.

It was too dark for Namjoon to notice the flush in Kimberly's cheeks but she bit the inside of her cheek anxiously knowing her face was heating up. She studied his own, the timid scrunch of his nose and the way his eyes curled up like half moons and knew there was no suggestion or flotation in his voice or in the action, so she took a look around. A tech with a clipboard was walking by.

"Excuse me, can I borrow your pen?" she asked. The tech obliged her, not batting an eye at the pair. Kimblery turned to Namjoon, "Gimme' your hand,"

He anxiously looked towards the boys waiting for him, ready to go on at their cue but he obliged Kimberly anyway. She pulled up his jacket sleeve and scribbled her number on his arm, the cap was firmly clamped between her teeth. As if he needed another reason to find her adorable.

"There," she beamed once she'd finished, "I assume you have WhatsApp?"

"I do," he nodded, "You guys should come to our show next week, you know, if you like this one,"

"I'll check with the girls," she agreed.

Maria looked up when she realized Kimberly had disappeared, turning around and finding her talking to Namjoon again. She smacked Charlotte's arm to get her and Chloe's attention, the three of them watched -- curious and anxious -- as Kimberly appeared to be breaming at his attention.

Namjoon jumped when he heard his name being hollered, his manager was waving him down. The music started up again and The Chainsmokers were gone, it was their cue.

"Break a leg, Namjoon," Kimberly smiled.

"Thanks. I'll catch ya later," he gave her a sly wink.

With a twitch in his lips that put her at ease, she watched him run off, Jin patting his back and whispering something into his ear as they went to take their spots.

Despite the obvious connection she felt with Namjoon, the way they clicked, she had told herself not to get too attached to him, that they were strangers passing and that tonight was probably the only time they would ever meet. But when she watched him on stage, she observed him in his element, she forgot all about that.

He truly could dance that fast, so clean and precise, the whole group moved as though they were one conscious being. There was so much to explore in the swagger, the charisma, the effortlessness of his performance that accentuated his raw talent, his fluffy hair in his face and eyes, the look of pure dedication and a cocky smirk on his lips, how his face lit up when the audience lost their mind for them. He was incredible, a dynamite performer that Kimberly had never experienced before. Something in her, some deeper conviction to always trust her gut told her that it wasn't over, that she would see him again because she had to.

#bts #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jin #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jhope #bts suga #bts jungkook #original story #original female character #band blog #band imagine blog #band imagines #kimberly rothstein

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facelessxchurch · 1 year

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I wrote my thoughts down while reading HBL, plus some the-morning-after thoughts.

MASSIVE Spoilers for "Hell Breaks Loose" under the 'Read More'. These are spoilers for the entire book including the big twist, so read at your own peril.

Too much talk about Skulduggery. Even when he's not present he remains the focal point, I hate it.

So far Ghastly seems to be the only POV character.

Why the fuck are my Bois wearing wigs???

Honestly, no one on their right mind would send a special force with a leader that has a personal grudge against one of the people they are meant to protect. This is beyond stupid.

Speaking of beyond stupid. The notion that some rando assassin could kill Mevolent is ridiculous, he is a god amongst men. Would be nice if Landy would remember that and stop doing him dirty.

So Ghastly is crushing on the leader of the masked sisters. And Saracen is of course trying to fuck her. Only proofing my dislike of him right again.

Remember that part on the Grimoire that says one of the FO bloodlines was cut short during the war? Yeah, found the fucker.

That fight was complete bullshit.

Nice to see an FO follower making a point of herself not believing her side to be evil. But fucking hell that dialog feels forced.

Dear god's, too many people in this book like to blabber on. Also, first Skul is going on about dinosaurs and now this part about the earth's gravitational pull and ancient knowledge about this planet. This is just Landy feeling smart BC he skimmed over a few wiki articles for like five seconds. Move on with the damn story.

Huh, Mev dealing with the gate is pretty close to the fake cover I made.

Skul keeps getting praised as a genius but he keeps doing stupid stuff like running at three overpowered enemies surrounded by their soldiers without a goddamn plan

As much as I enjoyed Baron stepping in the way and beating the shit out of Skul while Nef watches, Baron and Mev abandoning him is fucking bullshit and exactly what I feared would happen :/ poor Nef just keeps getting captured

Aaaaand Skul's stupidity doomed the world

Ghastly's mother showed up.

"for a parley Mevolent will want to have Serpine back" THEN WHY DID HE LEAVE HIM IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE??? IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN A FLICK OF HIS WRIST TO HAVE AN UNCONSCIOUS NEF FLOAT INTO HIS ARMS

They really do like putting bracelets on Nef

The voice. I can't believe Landy ripped off the fucking mouth of Sauron, what the fuck. Everybody knows LotR. Then again the Luke Skywalker thing was even worse. How is any of this legal?

FUCKING TIME TRAVELING VALKYRIE CAIN WE CAN'T GET EVEN ONE BOOK WITHOUT THST FUCKING STUPID WORTHLESS CUNT even more annoying was people predicting Valkyrie would travel back to war times ever since time travel became canon. Also there is a whole long-ass fic about exactly that premise.

The story just got a lot more convoluted and stupid. But now I know why this book is meant to be read after phase 2.

And let me guess, since Val is an overpowered Mary-Sue, they don't technically need Mev anymore to close the gate and she will do it instead

This feels like an unpleasant mix of exposition dump and getting lectured and I'm not here for it.

Nef is such a dramatic little shit, I love him!

Aaaaand he's dead.

Ah fucking hell, one of the only reasons I bought the book in the first place just died and I swear half the dialogue in this book is just about Ghastly's love life. Just continue the damn story and resurrect my bastard snek man >:/

Huh, nice trap from Mev. That's why I love the man <3 guess he must have known Nef was dead when he wasn't at the meeting and didn't take too kindly to it.

"kill him twice" "prime him for death" this plot makes less sense by the second. also, called Mev no longer being needed to close the portal.

Needless animal cruelty so you know the bad guys are the bad guys (this is not referring to the faceless followers btw)

Fighting literal children.

The Italian guy Valkyrie needs to talk to is randomly able to speak English.

And Skul turned into Vile. The scene seems like a parallel to Val turning 'permanently' into Darquesse in LSoDM

His entire skeleton got disintegrated yet that fucker put himself back together with shadows. Landy really made his shitty self-insert immortal, huh?

Saracen and Dexter are canon now apparently.

Baron and Mev are back, but it's not the same without Neffie :(

I call bullshit on Mev not instantly annihilating fighting 3 Dead Men at once, especially since they are weakened and tired.

So Valkyrie still has the black lighting but only uses it on the goddamn floor and not on the overpowered enemy she had been fighting a minute prior

Mev losing to the necromancers AGAIN is fucking bullshit

Did Ghastly just beat Baron to death? While he himself was half dead? That too is bs

Now there are multiple timelines. The one we read about and another one where Val hooks up with the Dead Men (can't tell if she is joking or not) and one that might be the same timeline where she and Mev fight together and Mev seals the portal. Aaaaand she flicked him off before leaving. This is why no one likes you, Val.

Morning After Thoughts:

I don't think we actually know what Hopeless' discipline was. But since he was a Hidden Blade too I guess it's something similar to Tanith?

I'm still not over how we got drowned in dialogue when it came to the Dead Men, yet Mev and his nasties barely spoke, especially not to each other. I think the most interaction they had was Nef saying one line to Mev and Baron smiling when they ditched Nef.

Holy fuck, Nef was done so dirty in this. He got knocked out almost instantly, left behind, captured, poisoned and then torn apart. With each Nef scene I'm more convinced he's based on someone Landy doesn't like bc he just loved fucking up Nef.

He really enjoyed watching Mev just fucking annihilate the Sanctuary side eventho I call bullshit on some scenes like Mev not instantly killing the three very exhausted Dead Men at the end of the book and Baron managing to get beaten to death after he had essentially already won.

The part in the present fucking sucked and I call so hard bullshit on Mev losing to the necromancers again. They are like a mini cult, they would not have the numbers for that even after Mev is done with the Sanctuaries. It's probably bc Landy made Vile OP AF in this 🙄 Also, this future proves Mev right about mortals.

I'm in general VERY disappointed how Mev and his generals felt at times more like set dressing than anything else. Given the synopsis, this feels like a massive bait and switch :/ You want wartime stories? Whoops, it's Val again. Fuck you.

Btw it's really hard to root for Skul and the Dad Men bc their plan is always to just rush in and start hitting stuff. At least they got some well-deserved ass-kicking for that. Meanwhile, Mev is the only one that actually comes up with plans and successfully executes them. Once again, Mev feels more like the main character than the main characters do.

But at the same time Landy can't help himself but to make a parody of Mev, especially with this 'the voice' bullshit that made Mev just look ridiculous. Landy doesn't seem to know that a good villain can make or break the story. Just look at the recent Puss in Boots movie, the villains are so good, they are what most people are talking about.

Conclusion: This feels like a massive bait-and-switch. The synopsis promised wartime stories Mev and his generals taking a central role alongside the Dead Men. Instead, it was a mix between a romance story for Ghastly and a time travel story for Valkyrie. Also, everything gets reset in the end and what we actually read is just one of the timelines she messed up before finding a conveniently easy fix. So it's NOT a prequel story as advertised, it's an alternate timeline. So everything that happens there is non-canon bc it gets reset at the end of the book anyways. So once Val and her time travelling gets revealed (or at the latest point when Nef dies) there is no reason to be invested in this story anymore bc you can tell it's just gonna get reset anyways.

#SP Hell Breaks Loose #HBL Spoilers #long post

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karereiko · 2 years

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Carbuncle from Final fantasy XIV

After a long time, next work is done. Carbuncle from FFXIV. This one was quite difficult for me since I couldn’t catch right proportions for this Carbuncle, and screenshots I had weren’t so great (I played in FFXIV in past, it was good game but I started to force myself to play everyday because I was paying for it monthly. So I quit after it was too much)

For the most of the felting process I was quite worried and my Carbuncle didn’t look good, only when I got to part where I joined legs, added extra wool at connections, it started to look a lot better. And that red detail on it’s head, when I added this part it made Carbuncle look like Carbuncle. I started felting from the head, and since I wanted to keep original proportions the best I could it ended quite big. On height it is like my last figures of Zag or Than, but when you measure it’s length... I didn’t plan it to be so big, and that’s why it took so long. The tail could be longer but it was already heavy with length you see and compare to rest of the body. I’ve made shading with darker wool this way because I thought it will look more interesting and more like natural fur, like some cats have this irregular mix of their fur colors. That’s why I didn’t cover some places on legs, ears and tail very solid.

Anyway I thought that it would be nice to make photo of it as mount for one of my previous felting works and so here is Rose riding it.

Posting new work took me so long because I had 3 works started at the same time. Carbuncle, Melia and Malboro and I just couldn’t finish any of them. I wanted to do Melia before XB3 comes out but I wasn’t able to. Then XB3 came out and it took a lot of my free time. She’s like 50% done but still a lot work before me. I think I will finish Malboro from FF15 first. I really wish to do some smaller felting work after both of them but I have no idea what I would like to do. Each thing I want to do for myself ends as complex character figure, I might like to do Eevee evolutions fo myself, but I would need to plan those better so they won’t end as big as Carbunce. For sure next character I want to do after Melia would be chaos from Xenosaga, because I loved and still love that games and him as character, MOMO too for sure I will make one day, probably I will do their ep3 clothes. I want to do Nia and XB3 gave me amazing version for her, I have thought about making her but each of her XB2 look didn’t work 100% with me. Base one because it’s too close to FF9 Garnet and I want to do her one day too. Maybe in next 100 years I will do half things I really want to felt XD. There is too much of it, but it goes slow since I have other things to do in my free time.

#Carbuncle #Finalfantasy #felting #nerdyfelting #crafing #finalfantasyXIV

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istorkyou · 2 years

Text

A Situationship (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x OFC

Warning - STRICTLY 18+. Language. Alcohol use. Angst

Synopsis - No strings attached. What could go wrong?

Word Count - 4503

Big thanks to @punkrocknpearls for cheerleading, laying her beta magic all over this and the AMAZING moodboard. Look at it. Look at it now. None of my bullshit would see the light of day if it wasn’t for her, so she’s to blame!

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)

@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @bragisrunes@noway4u @batmandallyboy @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

Her workforce is young. She is the oldest by eight years, at least, but at least four of her employees are exactly half her age. So when the half yearly night out rolls around and it’s organised this time by one of the youngest, she contemplates not going. The restaurant is a good choice, a sushi place that she loves so that’s fine, but the bar and the club they’re going to afterwards she’s never even heard of. When she googles the club, she realised it’s one she used to frequent at least five refurbishments ago.

Still, she will go out for the whole night; she knows how much the girl who organised it looks up to her, as both a woman in business and as a mentor, and she’ll be damned if she discourages any of her staff in any way at all.

The food is great, it’s an upmarket place and she picks up the bill, to much genuine protest, and she is promised by them she won’t buy a single drink for the rest of the night.

The bar is fun, a good mix of people, and she is able to stay at the table for most of the night, discussing the love lives of her tipsy employees and shelling out advice to her much more inexperienced crew.

“He just can’t get me off! Oh fuck, I’m so drunk! I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that to you! I will hand in my resignation on Monday,” Lindsay says dramatically, covering her face in shame.

“Don’t be a knob, Linz!” she reassures her, laughing. “I distinctly remember you wiping puke off my chin the last night out we had. These nights out have nothing to do with work. This is just a bunch of people who spend nine hours a day together letting off steam. I’m not your boss on these nights, just a friend. Anyway, back to your guy. He doesn’t make you cum?”

“Not once,” she says regretfully.

“He doesn’t listen to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you tell him what he needs to do, does he listen to you?”

Lindsay scoffs at the question. “I don’t tell him. Surely he should just know. He’s been with women before!”

She stares at the younger woman, incredulous. “What? You never tell him? Maybe he’s been with women and that’s how they liked it. But everyone is different. One woman’s slapped ass is another woman’s neck bite, we all like different things. You are allowed to tell him what you need from him, you are doing both of you a disservice by allowing him to carry on doing shit that doesn’t work for you, Linz. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over my years is that men fucking love direction, and the ones that don’t are the ones you discard very quickly.”

Her thoughts turn to Ivar for the millionth time this week. The guy who takes direction like an absolute champ. She hasn’t messaged him like she said she would and she almost pulls her phone out before she is distracted.

“Really? So you just come out and tell them straight up when they aren’t doing it right for you?” Lindsay asks in amazement.

“Well, I’m usually a bit more encouraging. Something like, “I like that but can you do it to the left a little?”, or “Oh fuck, that’s amazing, go harder/faster/slower”, or “please pull my hair, please I really like that, will you do that for me, please?” She giggles at Lindsay’s face. “Stuff like that, encouraging but instructive. And you have to be open to them doing the same and don’t take it personally. Fucking someone new is a chance to expand your sexual repertoire.”

They are pulled out of their conversation by Amelia ushering them to drink up and go to the club.

Lindsay shares her well imparted wisdom with the rest of the cab on the way to the club and it’s like she can see light bulbs going off in their heads. It makes her laugh out loud but she also feels sorry for them, and a little exasperated.

“Guys, Jesus fucking Christ!” She throws her hands in the air, shaking her head. “Take charge of your own pleasure! Do not allow yourself to suffer through years of mediocre sex because you are too shy to say anything. Own. Your. Shit. I say that in the office, but that also applies in the bedroom.”

They skip the line at the club, thank God; it’s cold and her feet are aching from the ridiculous heels she’s wearing. They are shown to their table by a hostess and looking around the place she can see absolutely not one single person over the age of 30 in here. Still, they have their table and table service so she will only have to venture into the crowd when she needs to pee.

She orders bottles of liquor and champagne to the table, she can treat them, they keep her business successful after all. She doesn’t know any of the music but Amelia assures her that the music goes “old school” after midnight and she will enjoy it.

She enjoys the company for an hour before the music switches and she is in her element. What’s old school to them is just her jams and they manage to persuade her on to the dance floor. It’s been a hot minute since she danced in a club but the music and the alcohol soon trick her brain into believing she’s twenty five again, and she’s shaking her ass without a care in the world.

As she raps along to the music, she spins around and her eyes catch him at the side of the dance floor.

Ivar.

In this fucking club. Staring at her like a predator stares at their prey.

She stops dead still staring at him. She doesn’t mean to but she’s never seen him in this context before, not since the first night they met at a pub. This is different. He knows nothing about this side of her. The drunk woman letting her hair down, he only knows what she allowed him to know. This is new. She feels totally exposed to him at this moment and she doesn’t know what to do.

His face is neutral, despite his eyes not leaving her. His gaze is hypnotic, making her skin break out in goosebumps and the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

A jealous buzz courses through her when she watches a very pretty blond girl walk up to him, snake her hand over his shoulder and rise up onto her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. She doesn’t know what to do with the feeling so she shoves it low, ignoring it completely. Ivar glances at the blonde quickly then shakes her hand off his shoulder, his eyes back on her. All of a sudden, she’s grabbed by Lindsay and spun around to dance again and when she looks back, he’s gone. She starts to wonder if her drunk brain has made it all up.

On her way back to her table she passes a rowdy group and Ivar is on the edge of it, laughing. She almost walks by him without saying anything but then she rethinks; is it too rude to just ignore him like that? They have been fucking for months, spending loads of time together and it seems wrong to just walk past as if they are strangers. So she stops just next to him and taps his arm.

“Hey! Are you having a good night?” she asks jovially, happy in her decision until his face turns to her and it’s nothing short of thunderous.

“What?” he retorts harshly, as if she’s interrupted the most important moment of his life. “Do I know you?”

It’s dark so the fact a blush immediately floods her face is imperceptible, thank God. She feels shocked and disappointed, but overall she just feels pissed the fuck off. She isn’t trying to bring their thing out into the open, expose it to his friends; that’s the last thing she wants, but she isn’t an asshole who just ignores people either.

He, on the other hand, clearly doesn’t have a problem with being an asshole.

“Really?” she asks with raised eyebrows and an amused smile on her face. She observes his group: some look at her, some don't. “Not even a civilised hello, hey?”

“Let’s not “pretend” shall we?” he retorts, and continues to stare at her.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry, I must have been mistaken, I thought you were someone I knew. Clearly not.” she says coldly, nodding firmly and walking back to their table. She sits with her glass of champagne for a minute, stewing over the coldness he’s shown her. Not six days ago that man was treating her like a Queen, and even though she left abruptly that night, she thought he understood why. The same man who has been in her bed almost every weekend for months couldn’t even say hi. Now, apparently, in an unexpected social meeting, he turns into a completely different human.

She drains her glass and shakes the funk off, allowing herself to be dragged back out onto the dance floor where she doesn’t even look over at him once.

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

His eyes are on her, though. He knows he shouldn’t have been so rude, but everyone is there. He can’t explain her to anyone, nor does he want to. He’s hurt by the way she left last weekend and she hasn’t messaged him like she said she would so that just adds salt to his wounds.

She is his alone. The one thing in his life he doesn’t have to share with anyone and that changed last weekend when Hvitserk barged in. Ivar doesn’t blame his brother – there was no way he could have known, given the circumstances – he’s just pissed off that the moment he invited her into his life everything unravelled.

He should have just gone to hers like always.

He is also in shock that she came up to him. She had been clear about wanting their…whatever this is… to be a secret, so he just assumed she would keep her distance. Typical of her, direct as always.

Why the fuck was she in this club anyway? Who the hell were all those people she was with? She was the last person he thought he would see tonight, in this club anyway.

He had planned on texting her for a hookup so he could get out of this shit early. She’d already told him she had plans tonight, but he was hoping she would have let him come over when she got home. And he was hoping she didn’t have plans tomorrow so he could stay at hers overnight, like he usually does. He loves waking up at her house. It’s peaceful and calm and she is there.

Now he’d fucked it with his shitty attitude, his immature reaction to her.

Hvitserk catches his eye and shakes his head slowly, looking disappointed at his brother. Ivar points his finger at him, as if daring him to say anything.

Ivar tries to pluck up the courage to go and speak to her for the rest of the night, but as he watches her dancing, drinking and laughing with her friends she appears to be totally unbothered by their encounter and he just can’t bring himself to do it. She obviously doesn’t give a shit so why should he?

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

She leaves at 2am. Straight into a cab, home, into the shower and into her bed. She has no plans tomorrow, thankfully, because she’s already got a headache developing. While she showers, she ponders what happened with Ivar and puts her feelings down to lack of common courtesy, nothing more. She downs some water and two preemptive ibuprofen, and falls asleep in no time.

Her phone ringing wakes her up. She reaches for it and sees Ivar’s name on her screen. The time is 3.30am. She is definitely not interested in a hook-up tonight, so she turns her phone off mid ring.

The doorbell ringing wakes her again. She suddenly has a panic that Steven could have been trying to get in touch with her about the children and she drunkenly turned her phone off. She runs to her window and opens it, looking down over her driveway and her front door. It’s not Steven.

It’s Ivar.

She tries to close her window quietly but he’s already seen her.

“Open the door, let me in. Please!”

Fuck! She can just imagine Nicole serving this piping hot tea up in their group chat right this minute, giving their boring lives some much needed drama.

She leans out the window.

“Shut the fuck up!” she whispers through gritted teeth.

He whisper-shouts back. “Let me in!”

“Oh for fucks sake, Ivar!”

She doesn’t even bother to pull on her dressing gown. She flies down the stairs before he starts making any more noise and opens the door in a bralette and matching tiny shorts.

“What the fucking hell are you doing here?” she fumes. “You can’t just turn up on my doorstep unannounced. It’s inappropriate. Shouting up at my fucking window? Who the hell do you think you are? Romeo?”

“I wanted to apologise.”

“Oh yeah?” She pushes him into the living room, closing the curtains.

He walks up to her with his hands facing her. “It was weird.”

“Was it?” she asks incredulously. “It actually wasn’t until you made it weird.”

His eyes glide down her body, to her tits covered in black lace and the tiny satin shorts which are slit up the side to the waistband.She watches him physically shake his head and she can see the pictures in his mind as clear as if the were being projected out straight from his brain. He’s so easy to read and she would usually take advantage and tease him, a small move of fabric against her skin, a well timed lip bite, a few small steps towards him making her tits bounce. But not tonight. Tonight she isn’t interested in that.

He hurt her feelings.

He runs his hands over his face. “Why the fuck were you in that club?”

“Probably for the same reason as you, Ivar. To have fun,” she scoffs. “I exist out of this house you know? I have a life that carries on when you aren’t around,” she says sarcastically.

“Who the fuck were you with?” His tone is aggressive, as if she’s personally offended him by socialising with people.

She narrows her eyes at him. She won’t put up with this bullshit. “It’s none of your business, Ivar! Do you even realise how rude you were to me tonight?”

“This shit between us is secret right?! That’s the deal, we fuck, we spend time together but we don’t get involved in each other’s lives. Then you just rock on up to me in a nightclub and expect me to act normal towards you?”

“You got me involved in your life last weekend! You rocked the boat. And tonight, did I come up to you and make a scene? Did I demand you introduce me to all your friends? No I didn’t. All I said was hey, are you having a good night? You could have just said yes thanks, and I would have been gone.”

“I was just shocked. I didn’t think you would come up to me in front of everyone. Fuck, do you know how embarrassing that was?!”

“Embarrassing? Embarrassing?? I embarrassed you by saying hello?!”

“Ugh, you know what I mean.”

“You are too embarrassed to even say hello to me. I’m that mortifying to you you can’t even extend to me the most basic of human courtesy?” She feels her cheeks grow hot but she can’t do anything to stop that.

“Shit, stop putting this all on me! You aren’t embarrassed by me? You’ve made it abundantly fucking clear you don’t want people to know we are together.”

“Together?! We are not together. And no, I haven’t told anyone about us fucking. That is not out of embarrassment. My life is complicated, Ivar! I have children who are old enough to understand what fuck buddies are. I have a cunt ex-husband who wants nothing more than some shit to Lord over me. All my friends are happily married, they wouldn’t understand the age gap.” She stops to take a breath and swallow back the tears that are threatening to burst forth. “I don't tell people because of my circumstances. You don’t tell people because apparently you are embarrassed by me. As much as I hate to admit it, that fucking stung tonight, Ivar. That hurt my feelings.”

“Oh god this is all wrong. Not this.” He gestures between them when he sees her face. “I’ve explained it all wrong! Look, I just don’t want everyone having access to us. It’s special to me and I don’t want it to be scrutinised.”

She throws her head back and laughs at him. “Special to you? Sure it is, Ivar. I don’t even know you! I thought I did, but was what I saw tonight the real you? Because I’m not interested in that at all. I fucking hate rudeness and you were beyond rude tonight. Get out now. I’m exhausted.”

The hurt on his face lasts for three seconds before anger replaces it. “If I walk out here tonight, I won’t be coming back.”

A flutter of fear dances across her chest but she does what she does so well, pushes it away. “Oh well. Life goes on. Everything is replaceable, Ivar.” she replies in the coldest voice she usually reserves for Steven.

The mix of emotions across his face is so hard to watch. She waits for his nasty response, sure it is going to be as hurtful as hers was, but all he does is turn around and leave with an almighty slam of the front door.

She picks up the remote control and throws it into the wall and wipes tears of frustration from her eyes.

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

When Steven drops the kids back on Sunday evening, she can see from the minute he gets out of the car that he’s pissed off. She assumes one of the kids has been a pain in the ass but he gives them both warm hugs and kisses goodbyes.

They are safely stowed in their rooms before he addresses her coldly.

“You’ve moved on then?”

She knows what he’s getting at but she is going to play dumb.

“I bumped into Nicole from over the road this morning. She was more than happy to fill me in on what’s been happening in my house every weekend.”

“This isn’t your house, it never was,” she scoffs. “Bye Steven, thanks for dropping the kids back. Next Friday okay still?”

“Okay for what? So you can go out and spread your cunt all around town?”

It wasn’t so long ago that this would have sent her over the edge into a spiral. She knows he’s using the most provocative language he can to get under her skin.

But now is now, and she will never give him any of herself again.

“Don’t be a pig, Steven, that's low even for you. I meant is it okay to pick up the kids,” she replies neutrally.

“If you are bringing men around my children I should meet them. Don’t you think?”

“When that happens, I will make sure you do. Goodbye, Steven.”

“Who the fuck was the guy leaving here in the middle of the night on Friday?!“

“Goodbye.” She starts to close the door on him, but he pushes it open again.

“Do you know I’ve been fucking Nancy for the past three months?!” The shit-eating grin on his face almost tips her into a rage. It’s got nothing to do with the information – she genuinely could not give a shit who he is sleeping with – it’s just that she can’t stand his stupid fucking face and his stupid bullshit attitude.

“Goodbye, Steven,” she says, pushing hard against the door. Once again he stops her.

“Who is he? You better fucking tell me now!”

A clearing of a throat comes from behind Steven and when you both look behind him, you see that Ivar is standing behind him on the driveway, with a look on his face that can only be interpreted as murderous.

Steven falters and he looks back at her, then Ivar. “Excuse me, can you fuck off, I’m having a conversation with my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” she and Ivar say in perfect unison.

Steven continues to stare at Ivar, who stares at her as she tries to keep her mouth set in a straight line at their synchronicity, but the hurt she feels from Friday night helps to do so.

“Goodbye, Steven,” she repeats for a fifth time.

“Is this him?“ He looks Ivar up and down. “The guy you are seeing? Jesus Christ, what are you, mate? Twelve years old?”

They are all interrupted at that moment by one of the children coming downstairs.

“Bud,” Stevens says quickly as the child walks to the front door. “Is this Mum's new boyfriend?”

“Steven!” she shouts angrily.

“Mum doesn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know who this guy is,” is the reply. “Mum, I’m hungry I’m getting a snack!” the kid calls out, stomping towards the kitchen.

She’s almost shaking with rage, but she keeps her voice level, calm. “Steven. Don’t ever…EVER do that again. You aren’t entitled to any information about my private life anymore. We communicate about the children only and if you ever use them to try and manipulate information about me, I will march you to fucking court about proper visitation and I promise you, you won’t find them as accommodating as I have been. Don’t ever use my children like that again.”

Steven has the good grace to look ashamed and turn away. Ivar and him have a silent pissing contest as her ex-husband walks past him to the car. As he gets into his car and drives away, both her and Ivar stand and watch him leave, before turning their attention back to each other.

“I’ve had enough bullshit for today, Ivar. What are you doing here?” She knows she sounds exhausted, fed up, but she can’t be bothered reining it in anymore.

He walks into her personal space and she almost pulls away but doesn’t. “I’m sorry. I just wanted you to understand how sorry I am,” he pleads with her.

“Got it,” she dismisses him.

“No,” he insists, shaking his head, “you really haven’t got it. I meant what I said about us being special.”

“Ivar,” she holds up her hand, “Firstly, I’m pissed that you are here. My children are home and I made it clear there was to be zero crossover. Secondly, I just don’t have the mental capacity for this. I cannot deal with your feelings as well as mine, as well as theirs. I’m responsible for their emotional health, I’m still helping them through the pain I caused when I threw that wanker out, plus all the other raging hormones flying through them. I have an ex who has the emotional intelligence of a slug. I just can’t deal with another person's feelings right now. That’s what was so amazing about our situation. No strings, no feelings, just sex. Fabulous sex.” She lets out a small, almost hysterical burst of laughter but then goes quiet for a moment before meeting his gaze. “We let it get weird, Ivar. We got too close. I’m going to cut it off now.”

“No, don’t do that.” Ivar doesn’t bother to hide the pleading tone in his voice. “We can go back to how it was, it doesn’t have to be weird. I need you. Nobody else has made me feel as good as you do.”

“Well, I’m not a commodity for your pleasure, Ivar. Goodbye.”

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

She closes the door and heads into her kitchen to see her eldest sitting at the island bench, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Good time at your dads, kiddo?”

A shrug gives nothing away.

“I thought I did a good job lying to dad about your boyfriend, eh mum?”

She chokes on thin air. “What? He’s not my boyfriend! Jesus MJ, what makes you think that?”

“Mum.” She is levelled by the teenager's disdainful stare. “I’ve seen your camera roll. You’ve got about fifty pictures of the pair of you. I showed Decks as well. It would be cute if you weren’t my Mum. Also, I’ve seen him walking out of our road loads on Sundays, and the chair in the shower, he has those leg things. Really not that hard to work out.”

“MJ, why did you show Decks?!” She scowls as MJ giggles at the indignant squeak she lets out. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I’m sorry you saw pictures, I’ve tried desperately to keep you away from that. You are too young and I don’t want you to feel weird because of your dad–”

“Mum. I’m 14 in two months. I’m not a baby. Decks didn't care at all. Also, I love Dad but even I know he was a rubbish husband. You should be happy. It’s been a long while since you were. You aren’t as good an actress as you think you are.”

“Baby…” Her eyes mist over.

MJ finishes the cereal and gets up. “God, Mum. Buck up. Don’t cry, it’s cringe.” She gathers her things and walks toward the stairs.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She shouts after her.

She cleans up the kitchen and retreats to her bedroom, popping her head into the kids' rooms to say goodnight on the way.

She crawls into her bed and curls up on her side and starts to process the weekend. Did she do the wrong thing by talking to him in the club? Did she overreact? She doesn’t think she did, she didn’t make a scene, didn’t flounce out of the club in a piss. She just expected a modicum of respect from the man she's been sleeping with for months, and if he thinks that’s unreasonable then that’s on him.

She feels a sting of annoyance when she thinks about him turning up on her door on a Sunday evening, knowing that that time of the week is totally out of bounds to him. She huffs out a laugh of derision remembering his words. “Special to him.” Fucking liar.

Her phone beeps and his name is on her screen.

When I said that no one makes me feel as good as you I didn’t mean the sex. It’s more than that. So much more.

She doesn’t reply. She just plugs her phone in to charge and turns her back to sleep.

Chapter 5

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

V, my lovely grandma, i hope you don't mind me leaving a self indulgent prompt here but would you mind writing something super fluffy with Jan to warm my little heart? thank you thank you, thank you! ily <3

Sleep [Jan x Reader]

Word count: 1k

Warnings: get comfy babe and sleep

“Sleep.”

Jan’s words hit you like a bucked of ice cubes and you stalled like a deer that met the blinding lights of a car.

It was dead in the night, probably three of four in the morning by the degree of darkness around you and you were chatting or scrolling onto your phone.

The evening before you and Jan went out to a talk at the university about human rights, he took some notes and chatted up with some people, he was a charmer when he talked politics, almost forgetting his naturally shy persona. Then later you were in desperate need for a pizza that got followed by a small concert by some indie band only Jan could know of.

A pretty full evening that came to the natural conclusion of mildly drunk kisses and feverish sex in the twisted covers of Jan’s bed.

All good in paradise, beside the fact that you couldn’t fathom the idea of sleep. Jan fell asleep afters some cuddles and talks, but you were restless, wide awake like it was 10 in the morning, ready to kick off the day.

You didn’t want to get out of the bed, it was too comfortable, Jan’s warm body too inviting and the sex scented covers intoxicating. Besides, your body was indeed tired, but your mind was on speed.

So it came natural to you to indulge into some internet surfing for an hour or two, maybe three.

Until Jan made clear that he was awake.

His soft chuckle filled the air “If you don’t move I won’t believe you’re sleeping”

You blushed as you turned around, the blue light of the screen caressing his features: his messy hair and sweet smile, his half closed lids and the little drool of saliva on his chin.

“I am sorry, I am just…”

“Awake?” He concluded and you chuckled nodding as he let out a breathy sigh using his body against yours giving a light bump with his forehead against yours.

“Stop thinking, it won’t help if you’re tired all day”

“I know, It is not like I choose to”

Jan smiled as he sighed softly, but he smiled, he was so sweet, he smelled like cigarette and you. He brushed his nose against yours being like a tired sleepy kitten. You looked at your phone, it was 5 am.

“Jan, you can sleep”

“Who are you chatting with?”

“Jan”

“Oh, so you’re reading some pornish stuff? Do I have to expect some new ideas?”

“Jan!” You gasped louder pushing on his shoulder only to hit a loud bump on the wall and then a hiss.

Peter telling you in his own way to shut the fuck up, hitting the wall and then regretting it.

Jan scraped the side of his nose with his finger “I know it is porn” he whispered only to earn another of your pushes on his arm.

He leaned on his side as he took your phone and turned it off before pushing it under the bed. Safe and away from you.

“Now” he murmured trying to keep his voice low when he turned on his own phone torch to pick his old cassette player, one of his favourite old school relics handing you the headphones while changing the cassette in it before putting on play.

“What is this?” Yo asked as a soft 80’s song started playing.

“I made you a good night playlist, I knew I’d need it one day” he said and you looked at him surprised and touched. How damn romantic could his revolutionary heart be?

But he didn’t finish, he leaned in picking a bottle of water that he always had nearby handing it to you. You took a sip before he could even tell you and took it back having one himself.

The music was still playing in your ears making everything he did look perfect like in some music video, the calm music making him appear even more soft as he turned off the little torch leaving your eyes into a buzzy need of informations, you wanted to see him.

You needed to tell him something, like he didn’t have to or that you’ll be fine and he has to sleep. But words just didn’t come to you, you were engulfed by the soft family aura he was giving to you.

You almost gasped in surprise as he held you by your waist and guided you to turn around reminding you of your both naked bodies, you were letting him do his magic by this point as he adjusted the pillow under your head and slowly settling himself into being the big spoon behind you.

He kissed on the back of your neck for a moment making sure the wires of the played didn’t bother you.

Another kiss on top of your shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, warm hand resting over your chest.

“Sleep”

He whispered, barely audible over the second track that begun playing in your headphones, all the songs were gentle love songs, all about happy love, about hope and warmth.

You closed your eyes as you tried to relax, you noticed fo a moment he held his breathing and you got confused on what he was doing.

Then you realised it.

He was syncing his breathing with yours.

For a moment the thought of how you don’t deserve this man crossed your mind, his loving attentions, his patience mixed with his naturally fiery nature. He was both an inspiration and a treat for you, he kept your body and your mind awake and now he was also helping you to relax.

You begun wondering how many times he was awake when you aimlessly scrolled at night over your phone, how many times he noticed to even think and put the effort of creating a cassette playlist for you.

As your mind raced on the wild road of self doubt like a mad horse another kiss on your spine pulled you back to reality.

Then his shifting body as he moved away one of the headphones, his hot breath caressing the back of your neck as he let our the words.

“I love you”

Simple as that.

He put the headphone back to place after resting another kiss on your neck.

His soft breathing was indeed relaxing, a sense of warmth spreading through your chest, his warm hand right there keeping your heart safe in its place, his breathing in sync with yours.

You smiled with closed eyes as another track played your mind to a soothing sleep

“When I sleep with that picture of you framed beside my bed

oh, it's childish and it's silly

but I think it's you in my room

by the bed

and I know

I took strange pills

but I never meant to hurt you

oh truly I love you”

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

#jan x y/n #jan weingartner x reader smut #jan the edukators #jan weingartner #jan x reader #jan weingartner x reader #jan #the edukators #the edukators fanfiction

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rreyie · 4 years

Text

𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨- 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: after three years of not seeing eren due to his buisness in marley, you reunite with him only to find he isn’t the same person anymore, but the one thing that hasn’t changed is his desire for you.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut! hair pulling, spanking, hate (?) sex, eren being an asshole, MAJOR season four/manga spoilers, vaginal, orgasm denial, overstimulation, fingering, oral (male receiving), f! anatomy reader, dom! eren, sub! reader

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut/ nsfw

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: eren yeager, reader insert

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: i really struggled with what to name this, but i still think it turned out fine. this may be the dirtiest thing i’ve written so far but anyways, eren stans come get y’all juice

——————————————————————————

it had been three whole years since you had last seen eren. as much as you missed those emerald green eyes giving you a playful glare from across the room, you certainly did not miss his careless demeanor.

it had happened after the girl shot sasha, your best friend. as you laid there sobbing on the floor, all eren did was laugh. no comfort. no “i’m sorry.” just a half hearted chuckle from that asshole of a man.

as you put her body in a different room, you walked out of the dimly lit airship to see eren sitting on some sort of box. through that mane of chocolate brown hair, you saw those emerald eyes again, only this time, they weren’t as youthful as they once were. they were tired. drained. dull. you didn’t know how else to describe that look.

“whatcha starin at?” he asked. his voice was barely audible.

your cheeks still red and eyes puffy from crying, you sniffle and manage to speak some words. “i’m looking at the jackass who was laughing at my best friend dead on the floor.”

eren chuckles. “i see nothings changed over the last three years, huh?”

you look away from him. you couldn’t bare to look eyes with him, especially now. he touches your arm. “come on now, look at me. i missed you.”

you swat his arm away. “shut the fuck up. why did you laugh? in a time that i needed you most you just sat there and laughed?”

eren laughs again. “haven’t you forgot, dear? i can see everything. i knew sasha was going to die before it happened.” you couldn’t stand his shit anymore. you jerk your body to face him, and raise your arm, looking directly into his eyes. you throw a punch at him, aiming directly for his skull, but his calloused hand stops you, making you look weak.

“heh, let’s not get too hasty here, dear-“

“quit calling me that damned nickname!” you shout at him. “i can’t talk to you right now. i’m going to bed.” his arm releases it’s grip on yours, and you angrily storm off into your resting place in the airship.

another few days passed, and you were coming back from the memorial service held for sasha. as you took off your army great coat, darker spots staining it from the rain pattering outside, a figure towers over you.

you look up and make contact with the entity, now figuring out that it was no other than yours truly, eren.

“well, want to talk now?” he asks. his voice was monotone, like nothing happened at all. you throw your coat onto a nearby chair, and storm upstairs to your room.

you eneter the room, which was pitch black, your tear-ridden eyes not processing anything you see. only a blurry mess of shadows and highlights. you throw yourself onto your bed and curl into a fetal position.

you wanted to throw up. first your best friend dies, and then your relationship was going down the drain... on top of that a world war was happening right before your very eyes.

a cold hand is pressed onto your back. you jolt at the contact, and see erens face looking down at you. you hadn’t taken the time to notice that he had cleaned up nicely, hair in a bun and cleanly shaved.

as your head tilts upwards, he presses his lips to yours, the unfamiliar sensation making your lips tingle. you let out a small moan and feel erens mouth curl upwards.

“well, i can tell even if you didn’t miss me, you sure missed my cock.” eren says. this statement caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed red. eren snickered, and continued to kiss you. eren inserted his slick tongue into your mouth, pushing and pulling your tongue in all different directions, mixing your saliva with his.

erens hand moved south, his finger just grazing upon your clothed womanhood. though your area was covered, you could still feel the friction of his finger and the fabric. he began to slide his hand inside the flimsy waistband of your pants and cupped your delicate womanhood.

letting out a soft moan at the contact, he began to grope and squeeze you in all the right places, and ran his index finger along your wet folds, already soaked with your slick.

“wet for me already, ain’t’cha princess?” he growls into your ear, warm breath sliding upon the exposed flesh of your neck. he moves his lips to your neck, and begins to gently suck, eager to mark you, similar to how an animal marked its territory. the gentle suction made you like putty in his arms, and you leaned into his chest. his heartbeat was beating right into your ear, giving you a sense of security.

unexpectedly, a finger slips into your walls. an “a-ah~” elicits through your lips. you shifted your hips to desperately try and feel full, even though only one narrow finger was inside you.

“only good girls get two fingers”, eren says. “are you gonna be a good girl for me? hm?” eren pushes his finger inside you more, hitting the plush sweet spot that was nestled inside you. you let out a pathetic little whimper as eren stretched you a little further.

“y-yes...” you stammer. eren began to pump his two fingers into your tight hole, as he felt his own arousal course through his veins, the fiery sensation talking over him and pulsating though him, going straight to his dick.

your thighs began to tremble as you were about to feel your orgasm, but then, right when you were on the cusp of reaching bliss, he carefully but slowly took his fingers out, his coated in your juices. he sneered at you, as your let out another whimper.

“h-hey...” you say, barely able to make words after your spoiled orgasm. “what w-was that for?”

“because you’ve been fucking around with me all week”, he responds, starting to unbuckle his leather belt. “all i’ve wanted this whole week was for your pretty little pussy to bounce on my cock, but you’ve been so stubborn that you wouldn’t even look my way. this is my payback. i’m going to absolutely fuck your brains out tonight.”

your spine shivered at the thought of you being here all night being used as erens own personal pocket pussy. you didn’t want to know how many rounds you were in for tonight, since eren never stops until he’s tired.

before you knew it, erens belt was off, and you were sitting on the bed watching him did himself of his shirt. his perfectly toned abs were semi-visible in the moonlight, the ripples of skin or bones creating a masterpiece. his hair was nearly free of the bun at this point, but you wouldn’t dare notify him of this.

eren folds the belt and gives it a little whack upon the bed, giving a crack.

“strip”, he commands. “now.”

you obey his words, and pull of your shirt without hesitation, followed by your cargo pants, leaving you in your bra and panties only.

erens gaze turns predatory as if he was a lion and you were the antelope. he flips you over almost effortlessly, and grabs your ass.

“dear god, i missed this...” he groans. “your ass is gonna be all red after i’m done with you.”

you clench your eyes, bracing for impact. you knew exactly how this was going to go down. eren cracks the belt down onto your left ass cheek, and you yelped at the impact. he did it again, the pain soon quickly melting into pleasure with each snap.

sure, eren could be a bit rough in the bedroom sometimes- no, scratch that. he could be super rough. but he always knew where the line was to be drawn. or at least he used to know. you only knew that this man had been deprived of sex for the time he was in marley, so he was likely craving some sort of intimacy. and now that he had you, he wasn’t going soft this time.

as soon as the last crack of the belt had ceased, he threw the belt down and kneeled over you.

“suck me off”, he demanded.

you flipped yourself over this time, and got level with erens member. erens black boxers had a throbbing bulge in the center. as you pulled his boxers down, his cock immediately sprang up, and slapped against his stomach.

boy, eren always had a nice dick. it was pale, but a vein ran through the side, and connected to the red tip of it. he hasn’t shaved down there in a while, so the seemingly primal hair that laid at his base was expected.

you grasped his cock that was eagerly waiting for attention, and moved your tongue along the shaft, placing kitty licks on the tip. you felt eren twitching under your touch. you wanted to tease him to compensate for your lost orgasm, to feel him writhe and beg to cum.

eren grew impatient with the kitty licks and tongue work that he grabbed a fistful of your hair and jammed your mouth onto him. you gagged at the sudden movement, the tip touching the back of your throat. he moved your head back and forth, using your spit to guide you along.

you took in his whole length. it was painful, but totally worth it to see his expression on his face. cupping his balls, you played with them, moving around the sensitive skin with your hands.

“i-m gonna c-cum...” eren warns you. you try and pull off so he wouldn’t make you choke. eren resists, only pulling you closer. his cock spasms, and releases a load of cum into your mouth. you were nearly choking on cock, the salty taste reaching every corner in your mouth.

you swallow it all. eren pulls out his cock, still hard even though he just came. he takes hold of your shoulders and pins you down on your bed.

“don’t worry princess, i’ll compensate for that lost orgasm this time.” he said, an evil smirk on his face. yup. you were in for it.

he quickly takes your bra and panties off before starting, and takes note of the giant spot of arousal in the bottom of your panties before he slides them off. he unclasps your bra and gives your breasts a quick little squeeze before pumping his cock a few times and lining it up at your entrance.

“p-please, be gentle...” you whisper.

eren laughs. “not a chance.”

he thrusts into you, his whole length unexpectedly filling you to the brim. letting out a groan, he thrusts into you again. it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. you grip the sheets beside you.

“i missed the feeling of your little pussy...” eren growls. he continues to thrust, smashing his hips into yours as he fucked you with no mercy at all.

lewd sounds of skin slapping a guttural wet sounds filled the room as you squirmed beneath him, moving your hips so he could get a good angle. his dick begins to touch on your sweet spot, hitting it repeatedly. the pressure on your spongy seeet spot was enough to make a loud moan escape from your mouth.

“m-more!” you yelp. eren heeds your command as you felt his balls slapping against your ass ruthlessly. “oh god, please, eren! please!” erens pace quickens a little bit more as you feel the burning sensation of your orgasm about to take over. you cum right on his dick, the creamy liquid spilling out of you and coating him so he could glide into you with ease. eren still has a bit to go, and while making an effort to cum, he only thrusts harder, causing you to cum yet again, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“ngh- oh fuck...” eren stammers, as he bottoms out into you, shooting thick ropes of cum into your hole.

you lay there panting, eyes almost shutting. but eren isn’t anywhere near done yet. his dick gardens yet again, and he continues to thrust.

“e-eren... please no more...” you gasp, trying to contain yourself as eren slammed into you again and again.

“no”, he says raspily. “you’ve been teasing me all fuckin’ week. you need to be punished for this.” his tip kisses your cervix, causing you to grimace. “turn over.”

you tried to move, but your legs were like jelly, unable to move after all the previous sensations you were feeling.

“dumb slut. let me help you.” eren places you on your tummy and re-aligns himself at your entrance, and jams his throbbing dick into you. your ribbed walls were clenching around him tightly, which only made him encouraged and want to go harder, deeper, if that was even possible.

your vision turned foggy upon your third orgasm, toes curling and all.

“ngh- aah!~” you whimper, feeling numb and helpless. something about eren using you as his own personal fuck toy made you seem to cum a little bit quicker than the last times you’ve had sex. maybe it was the control he had over you, the domination.

“oh, did my little whore cum for me again?” eren groans. “louder. i want this entire hallway to know exactly what we are doing in here. let them know how good i’m fucking you.”

eren gives a tug at your hair, making your head turn around and look him directly in the eye. he had a wicked sneer painted across his face. he purposely hits your sweet spot again, making a string of high pitched moans and whimpers fill the room, maybe even the whole hallway as eren instructed you to do.

your noises were the final straw that eren had. he quickly pulled out and flipped you over before jacking himself a few more times, and letting his cum splatter across your face and chest. your vision was so foggy at this point that everything was just a big cloud of white. as you regain your vision, you see eren laying over you, his brown hair messy and eyes filled with love.

“you’re not gonna just leave me like the others, right?” he questions you as he kisses your naked collarbone. you’re completely out of breath at this point, and all you can do is nod.

“good.” he grabs a towel that was sitting on your nightstand. “i hope you never leave me, to be honest.” he cleans up his release combined with sweat that was puddled on your body.

“n-never.” you stammer.

#aot hcs #aot headcanons #aot smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #snk headcanons #snk smut #eren jeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager #aot eren #snk eren

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trashytoastboi · 4 years

Note

This my first time requesting something,so sorry if I do anything wrong.I was thinking like parent Scenarios like the daughter is extremely shy and never stops hiding (sorry if that makes sense).The characters could be kid,law,zoro and crocodile or whoever you want I don’t mind.SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE 😤❤️

Heyya!🍀 no worries at all 🍀 hope I did your request justice and hope you enjoy ~

Short Scenarios: Dad! Kid, Dad! Law, Dad! Zoro, Dad! Crocodile with extremely shy daughter who has the tendency to hide away.

{D/Name} = Daughter Name

For those who need the meaning Chibisuke = pipsqueak

Total word count: 2,042 words

🛠Eustass Kid🛠

Word Count: 496 words

“Hand me the wrench” Kid asked, focusing intently on the small object before him. {D/Name} handed him a wrench as he tightened a few bolts, whilst they continued to sit next to eachother. Sharing the workbench while Kid was helping her to construct a design for a toy she had made. They had been alternating with Kid using the opportunity to teach her a few things, while {D/Name} had finesse, Kid had strength. In this particular instance it was proving to be the best mix. Soon handing {D/Name} a set of goggles as he pulled his own set down, before starting to weld, over the grinding noise there was a firm knock at the door, Kid stopped momentarily to hear the knocking before yelling “Come in” and turning his attention back to the toy. The door pushed open revealing Killer, wearing oven mitts and holding a plate with some freshly baked snacks. “I brought some snacks for the two of you… where is {D/Name}?” Killer inquired, noticing the absence of the young girl. Kid lifts his goggles, looking at Killer with confused glare…as if Killer were blind, Kid turns to where she should have been sitting, noticing she was nowhere in sight. Killer comes in. Setting the snacks down and taking a quick look around for her.

Kid calls out “Oi! chibisuke! Come out” in response to his calls, there is only silence, he stands up and looks around, never fully understanding just how she had this innate ability to hide so perfectly and quickly. Kid spots the snacks and gets a bit of an idea, Killer chuckles, he has seen this so many times where {D/Name} would feel shy and just disappear into one nook or another. “Guess I’m going to eat all of these snacks that Killer made by myself” Kid loudly declares before lifting the animal shaped biscuit to his mouth. “Kid! Those are for {D/Name}!” Killer reprimands him, knowing that those are her favourite ones. Shuffling can be heard in the workshop as Kid feels tugging on his pants, noticing her pouting face. “Hello uncle Killer” she politely greets him, before noticing Kid leaning down with the plate as she quickly snatches all of the animal shaped biscuits. Happily nomming her biscuit while half hiding behind Kid’s leg and under the cover of his large coat, he sets the plate down on the workbench next to him. Allowing {D/Name} a moment to settle down, until the next round of knocks are heard…revealing Wire and Heat who had been looking for Kid and Killer to discuss something, Killer watches {D/Name} slipping away before completely disappearing. Kid reaches for a snack, only to feel the workbench and no plate, looking around noticing that the plate and his daughter are missing. “Chibisuke! You better keep me one of the chocolate ones!” Kid yelled out, along with the muffled laughter of Killer, Heat and Wire who always found these sorts of situations to be quite humorous.

🍄Trafalgar Law🍄

Word count: 526 words

{D/Name} had spent quite a fair share of her time setting up various hiding spots and ways to navigate between them, creating a very elaborate network within the Polar Tang. Since she enjoyed having the ability to travel and hide whenever she felt like it, it never hindered Law…since if he needed to see her, a simple use of Shambles always pulled her out of her hiding spot. It had been a while since {D/Name} had actually used those spots for hiding, until the unfortunate moment when Luffy boarded the Polar Tang. Not exactly being the quickest to warm up to strangers, she felt her overwhelming urge to hide again. Luffy caught a quick glimpse of something small ducking out of sight, and was instantly fascinated by who or what he had just seen. He followed the figure who just kept disappearing behind corners, until he found one of the hiding spots that led to another and began ‘chasing’ the mysterious silhouette. Being pursued by the stranger was terrifying {D/Name} to no end as she was frantically scrambling and trying to escape the stranger after being chased all over the Polar Tang, and feeling the presence of the stranger getting increasingly closer, she realized he would not give up easily. While trying to get away she caught a glimpse of Law, before bursting out of her hiding spot and running full speed towards him. Seeing his daughter running at him with tears streaming down her face and a look of terror was the last thing he expected to see. “{D/Name-ya}, what’s the matter?” he asked calmly, trying to find out what had perturbed her so…especially from one of her ‘safe spots.’ “There’s a strange man chasing me!” she wailed out, with Law looking at her in surprise, suddenly feeling that twinge of frustration and a heaving groan…instantly knowing who it was. “Mugiwara-ya!” Law called out. Noticing Luffy tumbling out from the hiding spot, sprawled out on the floor and looking up at Law who was holding {D/Name}, “Shi-shi-shi” Luffy laughed, smiling as carefree as usual as he stood up and came closer, spotting the little girl who was clutching onto Law. “Ehhhh so this is the little person I was chasing? You know from upside down you almost looked like a monkey the way you were holding onto Torao”

{D/Name} buried her face in Law’s coat, trying to hide away from the obnoxiously loud stranger. “You’re scaring her Mugiwara-ya!” Law exclaims as he puts some distance between Luffy and himself. “Scaring? So that’s why you were running…sorry about that!” Luffy apologies after realizing that why {D/Name} was trying to get away so desperately, near instantly after apologising, Luffy’s attention was diverted to Bepo. {D/Name} looked at him, watching Luffy leave before looking towards Law “Dad…d-do I really look like a monkey?” she asked on the verge of tears. Law brushed the dishevelled hair out her face “The only monkey here is him.” She was still feeling a bit out of sorts considering the whole ordeal that just unfolded, “Dad, I don’t like your friend…he’s too loud.” {D/Name} muttered out, a statement which resonated deeply with Law.

⚔Roronoa Zoro⚔

Word count: 513 words

In quite a distinctive and dramatic contrast to her dad, {D/Name} has an excellent sense of direction and often enjoys going exploring on her own to find new places, but mostly frequenting her hiding spots aboard the Sunny. Her favourite one just so happens to be in her dad’s training room, but {D/Name} being who she was, had a hiding place everywhere. These spots were generally only used for three reasons… One, the emergency use to hide away from people she didn’t know; two, a place to store her snack hoard and finally three, a good place for quiet naps. Luckily since it had just been the crew, she hadn’t felt the need to hide away unless for naps or to keep her snacks safe from Luffy’s ravenous appetite…Although when Law had started travelling with the Straw-Hats that changed, she felt terrified of him. Finding him strange, tall and morbid looking, who has the tendency to always yell at Luffy. None of which helped her impression of him, {D/Name} was always hiding the moment Law walked into a room. And her urge to hide only seemed to increase when she saw Caesar, a dodgy man who kept offering candy to Chopper and on one occasion when he did spot her, he tried to offer her candy in exchange for retrieving the key to his cuffs.

{D/Name} was stressed out, resting in the kitchen and watching Sanji cook as she heard Zoro calling her name, standing up to open the door only to suddenly catch a glimpse of Law who was about to walk in. {D/Name} fumbled and tripped trying to get away. Earning Sanji’s attention when he heard her fall “{D/Name-chan}” Sanji whispered, as he opened a cupboard. She dashed and settled into the hiding spot, thanking Sanji. The very instant she made it into the cupboard, Law walked in. Looking for Luffy and having come to the kitchen after assuming this is most likely where he would be…though instead, Law found Sanji talking to a cupboard, before standing up to continue cooking. Law opened his mouth to speak as Zoro came in, “Oi cook, have you seen {D/Name}?” he quickly inquired, when Sanji pointed to the counter, Zoro walked over “I’ve been looking for you, I was worried since I couldn’t find you” he said in relief, of course to Law…the whole time it just looked like the two of them were talking to a cupboard, who exactly was this {D/Name}? A cat or something?

“I’ve been wanting to ask for a while…who is this {D/Name} you keep talking about?” Law tilted his head, as Sanji put out his cigarette. “She’s Zoro’s daughter, it makes sense that you haven’t seen her…she is very good at hiding, especially from…” Sanji trailed off, “From?”

“The scary beanpole… “{D/Name} whispered, as Sanji and Zoro started laughing, much to Law’s dismay who had also heard it… “S-scary beanpole??” Law didn’t want to assume that it was him…but… When he thinks about every time he had shouted and gotten angry aboard the Sunny, it would make sense.

🐊Sir Crocodile🐊

Word count: 507 words

{D/Name} was quite accustomed to seeing the constant stream of strangers that came in and out for meetings with her father, which always left her feeling a bit displaced, since she was incredibly shy and only felt truly comfortable around her dad and Daz and she regarded everyone else as people to avoid as if they were the plague. Which left {D/Name} feeling a bit grumpy on this specific day, seeing as Crocodile promised that he would spend the day with her and no strangers would be in the house today, yet when she had woken up and excitedly waddled downstairs in her tired sway to catch the sound of unfamiliar voices, she could tell there was another meeting. The door she had her ear pressed against suddenly moved and the sound of the handle rattled as {D/Name} sprinted upstairs, out of sight and away from the general vicinity of any potentially lurking strangers. Slowly creeping and sneaking in through another door and spotting Daz before slipping in behind him. Peaking out from the cover of Daz, he could feel the movement and presence behind him as he looked down to see her, “Ojou-san?” {D/Name} put a finger to her lips “Shhhh.”

She watched the meeting unfolding, thinking that her dad was amazing, noticing just how easily he handled speaking to so many people, admiring that commanding presence he had and how everyone seemed so eager to listen to him. A short while later, the people present all stood. Giving their goodbyes to Crocodile as the room seemed to be draining of the people that was present. {D/Name} shifted around Daz’s legs, making sure to stay out of sight. Feeling less nervous, thinking that everyone else was gone, aside from her dad and Daz, she looked towards the door and suddenly walked into something. “Oh? Who is this?” An unfamiliar man stood, towering over her as a hand reached out, startling {D/Name} who thought everyone had left. She was frozen until Crocodile stepped in front of her, created a barrier between herself and the stranger. Without wasting the chance given, she scurried away to a hiding spot.

The question as to which hiding spot she was currently in was a mystery to Crocodile who had been looking for his daughter, in various places yet was unable to find even a trace of her. Finally the search leads to her room, he could hear a slight bump from the cupboard, soon after opening it and finding {D/Name} inside with tears rolling down her cheeks from being startled by the stranger earlier. Crocodile opened his arms in a gesture for a hug “Come here little one” he beckoned as {D/Name} sniffled and went in for the hug. Before sitting on the bed while holding her, she sniffled as Crocodile continued to comfort her “I’m sorry you got such a fright.” It was uncharacteristic to see Crocodile act in such an endearing and gentle way, but when it came to his daughter he was the biggest softy you’d ever meet.

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widowsofchaos · 4 years

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ill wind

summary: A drunken one-night stand takes a turn. pairings: dark!Wanda x black!reader x dark!Natasha warnings: (malevolent advantage of alcohol consumption, power manipulation, dub non-con/smut) I hope ya’ll enjoy! <3 ao3 a/n: Written for @that-damn-girl ‘s PRIDE challenge. Chose a scenario prompt “drunken one night stand” with my two of my fav marvel women. Many apologies for being rusty at my writing! Beta: by the beautiful @imanuglywombat Thank you, Laura for being such a great friend & for proof-reading! Thank you for the amazing commentary, you’ve been such a huge help on this fic! Xoxo psa: I had to repost this story again due to the original post being reported by tumblr for adult content, so here it is once again! Also, a big thanks to everyone liking this fic, I didn’t realize it would be a fan favorite until I kept getting tagged by other writers’ answering asks of readers asking about it! It means a lot, thank you!!

do not repost my works!

A surge of throbbing pain hits your head.

Somber shades of yellow and white marinate into a dewy flourish; trying to break through your fluttering lids. Three hearts beating under smooth silk sheets, limbs entangled, a blooming migraine bestows your crown.

A cheeky god who’s shit-eating grin is flashing before your squinting eyes, you huffed. Serves me right, I guess, you mulled. The rowdy tyke biting more than she can chew.

Your hooded eyes sharply scan the bedroom, realization hits like a freight train – this isn’t your room. It’s familiar to memory, your mouth curves into a frown, you rub your eyes roughly. Trying to clear your vision, studying your surroundings thoroughly. Powering through blurry perception, your senses are a bit irregular, groggy.

You attempt to twist your body, metal clanks against the skin of your back. Nerves frigid at the slender-shaped leather sensation, your breathing is shallow, your brain is driving into overdrive, grasping at the assumption that it’s a belt; the horizontal form, and the shape of metal is a big clue of it’s identification.

The slick leather sliding against the nape of your back, traveling against the slope of your lower spine, regarding the patterns of the buckle that grazed against your ass.

Peering out of your blurry haze, your moist skin recognizes the flood of body heat.

Overwhelmed by your flush state, your crown shifts down and you almost choke on your spit and you almost choke on your spit. On your right, lying peacefully on her back is the Slovakian witch herself, Wanda. On your left, her face half-smooshed in the pillow, the Russian beauty herself, Natasha.

Anxiety rolls off of you in waves. Naked, and satiated with pouty sleepy lips – yourself bare as the day you were born. Arm draped gracefully over her face, the twinkle of a glimmering rock adorning Wanda’s left palm mockingly winks at you.

Whining very lowly, you leisurely twist your head to face Nat, curled near her head was another shiny rock snickering at you. “Fuck.” You cringe. Biting the bullet, you navigate through the migraine, bent elbows dig into the mattress, lifting your head up, weak fingers grip the sheets to cover your indecency.

On the floor, spews of clothes are scattered – your Alice Cooper shirt, your lace black thong, your denim shorts, your strapless bra – along with other familiar articles of clothing. A red string thong, a pair of high-waisted blue panties, a black button clad blouse, a leather skirt, – it was an Armageddon of fabric.

As your brain fizzles to calculate your escape, a featherlight fingertip grazes and tickles your neck, you gasped at the intrusion. Your head snaps to your left, green orbs pierce through you, “Hey.”, it was sultry, yet raspy.

A twinge at your core – no, no, no – this can’t happen. Becoming a homewrecker isn’t on your bucket list. “Hey – um, I don’t fully remember–” You were stuttering, never have you lost your cool. “I – fuck.” Your eyes downcast from Natasha’s intense stare and shame seeping through your bones; a dark chuckle erupts from her.

“It’s okay.” She cuts you off, with her knuckles caressing your cheek. “No need to be worried – or scared”, a feral grin, all fangs. Your mouth gaps opened, and closed like a blubbering fish. “I’m so sorry, Nat.” A bit breathless, tears form in your eyes.

Your head running miles per hour, tongue thickened with sincerity – worried that you definitely ruined one of your best friendships.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Your fumes are running on auto-pilot. A coy flutter of her lashes, “Why are you sorry? You weren’t saying that last night.” Your chin wobbles, “Excuse me?” A devilish smirk dons her mouth, you can tell she’s entertained by your confusion.

Natasha’s calm stature, coolly lifting herself by the elbows to sit against the headboard, bare milky breasts bounce free from the blanket – it throws you for a loop.

“Whatever I said last night –” Your fidgety fingers grip your messy curls, seeking an ounce of control, “–I was drunk. I – can’t remember. I know I probably said some stupid shit.” You harshly bite your bottom lip, drawing some droplet of blood through split skin, “Not at all, miláčik.” A soft Slovakian timber looms behind you, your entire body stiffens.

French manicured nails graze your tender shoulder blade, weaving a hiss through your teeth. Crudely tracing red claw marks, a shiver crawls through your spine; Wanda stifles a chuckle. “No need to worry, Y/n.” A peck on your shoulder, you gasp, flinching a bit away from her lips.

“No, this is so wrong. I ruined everything – I – need to go.” You stutter, averting your teary gaze away from both women. Fumbling and shaky hands tugging off the sheets, embarrassment surges inside of you due to your bareness.

Covering your breasts with your arms in shame, a disappointed sigh can be heard, a whizz of mesmerizing magenta energy floats and surrounds you. Your brain becomes fuzzy – dizzy numbness infiltrates you. Brown orbs criss-cross, a force heaves on your chest, pushing your body forcefully against the mattress – an ungraceful huff escapes you.

“Oh miláčik, you’re not going anywhere.” Wanda whispers, her knuckles softly caressing your cheek. “I–” Your mouth gapes to speak but you are cut off, “Quiet.” Natasha sternly demands, trimmed brows pinch menacingly. Wanda’s slender fingers flicker hairs-away from your lips; muting you.

“Do I really need to refresh your memory? Or do you want Wanda to just show you?” Natasha pucker lips sporting a faded tint of pink – a hint of last night’s rendezvous. Something is different in their eyes now; something darker. It nerves you, a force is weighing on your chest slightly more — leaving you gasping a bit.

You nod your head in Wanda’s direction, peering through squinted glossy eyes. Wanda’s open palm waves over your face, a flared energy of fluid orchid pink and creamy white whisk in a blurry mix.

Transporting your subconscious through a tunnel of faded memories – a film reel of the past — neon rainbows of worldly splendor travel around you. Kaleidoscope splendor.

Through a murky veil, your airy presence arrives at the living area — Stark’s late night party from last night in full swing. You are befuddled yet amazed beyond belief. The scents of alcohol roars in your nostrils and the crisp clear cadence of your tipsy friends flow through your eardrums – goofing off, and chatting – you can feel the atmosphere differently on your skin.

The chilled air that flows from the open balcony imbibes your flesh, goosebumps littering your translucent skin in its wake; your breath hitches at the tingles soaring through your body.

The powerful gifts Wanda possesses never fails to impress you.

Nimble feet waltz through the hallway, reaching to the common area, it felt as if another unknown force was guiding you – searching for your past self. Assuming by this time of the party you were already impaired off your ass. Your silent steps were transparent, featherily light against the flooring; the cool sensation grazing your toes.

The cheers rising in volume, the coil of anxiety curling in the pit of your belly. Forcing yourself to cease your pace, nerves overriding. Afraid to face the truth – realization that you slipped. How easy of you fall into their bed, like a slithering snake. Tears formed at the brims of your eyes – wiping the droplets away by the back of your palms.

A push collided against your back, an ungraceful yelp escaped you as you toppled over – your entire form floating, twirling a bit. Wiggling legs falter mid-air, hovering over the ground; trying to find your bearings. A force guiding you towards the common area. The aroma of liquor tickles your nostrils and boisterous laughter rings in your ears.

Easily you found past you hanging off of Thor’s extended bicep – like a monkey climbing a damn oak tree. You attempted to face-palm yourself, but your hand went straight through your ghostly face. It was free reign to wonder about the compound.

Fascinated to just linger around, seemingly waiting for your own mistake to be replayed for you. In the corner, you see Sam and Clint chuckling like a couple of knuckle-heads at you trying to bounce off of Thor. It was odd, you felt like you were in the film Ghost.

Wandering among friends, they walk right through your invisible disembodied form. In the corner, you see Bucky and Steve smooching on the couch, stealing cheeky kisses – a bit tipsy chuckles from Thor’s ale.

Your drunken form catches your eye, incoherent words to Thor, Sam, and Clint --- most likely you’re telling them that you were gonna rest for a bit. You saw your past self flop ungracefully on the couch, your eyes wearily fluttering open and shut.

Two shadows peer upon your body and you almost choke on your own spit. Wanda and Natasha sat on both sides of you, petting your hair and caressing your cheeks. Delirious you were, you slurred a hello. You squinted darkly at Natasha’s palm – it was a flask in her grasp.

Taunting you with a shake, promising more alien ale, in exchange to ‘hang out with us’; Wanda’s fingertips grazing your temples, snickering lowly. You are frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots planting in the flooring. Deceit. It was a simple trick dealt by your own hand, your own inebriation used against you.

For a millisecond, you feel it was your own fault – following the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Aided by the sneaky claws of Wanda, and Natasha; trolling towards the elevator. Your breathing is sharpening, choppy pants squeezed from your lungs. The walls of the living area began shaking as if an earthquake was occurring.

Your subconscious begins deteriorating piece by piece. Vibrations begin surging throughout your body and in a glimpse, you see every member of your team in a mid-frozen state.

But in a flash, you see Bucky and Steve grinning with toothy Cheshire Cat smiles – following the direction of their gaze, staring at Wanda and Natasha dragging you away. It gives you a weird uncertain vibe, making you shiver.

The walls of the compound begin to crumble upon you. Vibrations surge throughout your body, almost losing your balance on your toes. You hold onto yourself, hugging your head in your arms. An efflux of bursting colors blinds you, swirling and erupting upon you. A force pushing you through the familiar tunnel of mist.

Deafening white noise pound in your ears, as if you are breaking through the ocean surface – wheezing for air, a heavy weight crawling off your chest. The blurry veil clears, your vision sharpens to see Wanda and Natasha hovering over you, smiling like the cats that got the cream. “You tricked me,” You stammered, fuming with rage but a flailing thread of humiliation.

Wanda clicked her tongue, wagging her finger at you – scolding you like a child. “We didn’t trick you. You came willingly. Right, Nattie?” Wanda cooed to Natasha, dreamily gazing at her. Natasha hummed, “Indeed, Maxie. All we did was follow –” the tip of Natasha’s finger softly grazed Wanda’s chin upward, a slow turn back to you, “--- You lead the way.”

“I was fucking drunk. I don’t even remember shit! You took advantage of me!” You barked, green and hazy blue hues darken. Natasha’s palm grips your jaw, emanating an ow from you – a bruising touch.

“Would you like Wanda to give you a repeat of it? I must warn you –” She leaned forward, lips almost brushing yours, “–you were very loud, and wet.” Nat’s voice was laced with malice.

“No.” A muffled whine slip from puckered lips pinched between her fingers. “You know – we could just give her a demonstration.” Wanda purrs, delicate hands find your body; snagging the sheets off your body, Natasha groans at the sight of your bare breasts.

Bending forward Wanda’s pink tongue darts from her plump lips, licking long strides against your dewy skin. Starting at the navel, her tongue traveling up to the valley of your plush breasts.

Cowering thighs clench shut, “Nuh uh, none of that.” Wanda’s sing-song reprimand makes you twitch at the pit of your belly. A fiery carmine mist infiltrates the air, twirling presence swirls around your crotch, and thighs – the force snatches your legs spread eagle-wide.

“You have no clue how long we have wanted you, huh?” Natasha coos crudely as your thighs slowly lift upwards, slowly your thighs lifted upwards, your kneecaps coming to rest against your supple breasts.

“You’re soaked, miláčik.” Wanda’s body glides with smooth precision, downward like agile feline; legs dangle in the air, ankles locked. Comfortably tucked between your legs like it was her rightful reign. Inhaling your sweet tangy scent emanating from your glistening cunt, her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. Long strides stroking inside your wet folds, shamelessly delving between short-fuzz mound.

“Delicious. Like a peach.” Tip of her moist tongue, twirling on your clit, “Hmph – fuck.” Your eyes fluttered to the back of your skull. Natasha licks a trail of warm saliva from your lush breast to your baring neck.

Suckling on your pulse point, you gasp a breathy groan. Teeth nip and scrape the skin ravenously, baring her fangs --- resembling her infamous Araneae emblem.

Sweet kisses to your collarbone, teeth nibble at your brown nipples, tantalizing tugging on the sensitive flesh – red nails painfully scraping into your ass cheeks, whimpers slither pathetically from your lips. Mewls from Natasha, a click of her tongue, tsking you as if you were a cat, a mere pet to play with. Your lips form into a thin line, forbidding any involuntary moans to slip.

“Twah. Don’t hold back those sweet noises, baby.” Wanda lulling you, following with a salacious bite on your inner thigh, you yelp trailing into a pathetic moan as she licks against the mark. “We had you singing like a canary last night,” Natasha speaks huskily against your cheek, nibbling a bit. “You may be restraining, trying to be quiet. But you’re just one loud girl, just like your mind.” Natasha said lowly, your dazed eyes trying to concrete.

“Loud thoughts, and vivid fantasies.” Wanda’s lips pucker to suckle throbbing clit. You grunt, Natasha pinches your nipple — earning a squeal from you. It was painfully delicious — you can’t lie — your body definitely can’t hide the fact. “There you are, darling.” Natasha’s voice drips with husky lust, a second twist.

You yelp, your head tilts back and strains against the pillow — welcoming the sting whole-heartedly. Natasha cups your breast jiggling it a bit; flicks her tongue against the erected nipple and suckles it in her entire mouth. Your whole breast devoured, you hiss, peeking through your lashes — it was sinful how her pink saliva glossed lips engulf your tit.

How her tongue lapped at your nipple with such hunger. Worships you into the cave of her mouth. Her sneaky fingers snatch the other one — twisting and twirling mercilessly between her finger-tips. It’s sloppy, filthy, and fucking dirty — and wrong. You feel as if you could pass out. The soppy slurps from Natasha and the leg-shaky clit bites from Wanda were pushing over the edge.

You push your waist up and down, riding Wanda’s tongue; for a moment you lose yourself. Her hot tongue gliding between your velvet folds, how her tongue coats in your essence.

Wanda’s soft palms glide against the curves of your thighs, her nails scraping against the flesh. You jolt as she swats against your underthighs. Harsh painful slaps, as she eats you out. The heat of the slaps is scorching in your pores, adding salt to the wound — Wanda digs nails a bit more to relish in your squirming.

“Ow.” It’s small, but it’s heard. Wanda removes her lips from your pearl, you pitifully whine — frantically, you hoist your head to glare at her. A trail of white saliva connects from her bottom lip to your clit, she twirls her tongue in a languid twirl; collecting all of it.

Licks her upper lip, like a feline just drank the dairy. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Wanda smacks your glistening cunt, a wicked snicker. You wail, it’s a tug of war for you. You don’t want to be here, getting eaten the day-lights out of you, and your tits suckled.

You need time to decompress on the fact, you had sex with two of your best friends — who are married. Who you had the biggest crushes on – but you can’t risk losing a full-fledged friendship over lust.

Two sets of slender fingers plunge inside you, snapping you out of your thoughts, as the pad of Wanda’s thumb rubs manic circle motions on your throbbing clit.

“Get out of your pretty head, miláčik.” Tears form at the brims of your eyes, shaking it no — you can’t risk losing this friendship. “Do you really think you can bypass a spy and a telepath?” Natasha’s voice was like a crackling fire, dragging you out of your conflicted thoughts.

“Did you think we wouldn’t see how you gaze at us, huh? All those thoughts swarming in there?” Her index gently taps the center of your forehead. It was difficult to fully concrete or even speak coherent words as Wanda was teasingly inserting her fingers in and out of your wet cavern; ceasing her thumb a bit.

Speechless — what could you say to that? “Worried on becoming a homewrecker?” You were stuttering a bit, you still needed space to adjust, what if this doesn’t work out, and you were stuck in the awkward middle? “I–I need some time —” Natasha’s eyes darken, refusing to accept your rejection. You didn’t even have the proper choice — you didn’t have a choice.

It was a drunken one — barely a choice filled with manipulation and trickery. “No.” She hisses, gripping your jaw, you whine lowly in your throat at her harsh grasp.

Without wavering her eyes from yours, as she steals a bruising kiss. Wanda’s eyes ignite to fiery red, hitting your sweet spot hard, and brutal. You shriek, trying to worm yourself from Wanda’s grasp — but no success. Wanda’s mist restricts and pins you against the bed, her jaw tightens and clicks.

“You can’t escape us. We want you just as bad as you want us.” Wanda’s viscous fingers split you open, squelching; not once allowing a second of adjusting. As if her powers were electric at the tips of her witchy fingers, you felt a zap inside you. Oh, how a wicked bulb lits upon her head. “I have an idea.” Wanda hums with an evil smirk, stopping her actions.

“I don’t even have to touch you to make you cum.” Wanda guides Natasha away from your aching body by the shoulder. Her slim fingers contort as she sits on her knees, red energy emits, and swirls from her hands.

Manipulating your senses, fire brewing at your nerve endings, unadulterated ecstasy brimming at the pores. Wails leave you like hymns, your lips forming into an O; eyes pinched shut as your back arches off the mattress.

Hissing through your teeth — it’s electric. Enthralling as you twitch under Wanda’s command. Jittery spasms as a coil at the pit of your belly began twirling bigger, and bigger. “She’s getting close. I can smell it on her.” Natasha whispers, her breasts heaving a bit from her chest swelling from excitement, her smug smile curling from her lips.

“I can feel her energy. It’s heavy and intoxicating.” Wanda’s head was in a haze, as she connected with your spirit, along with Natasha’s. A connection. To intertwine — but not for herself, with extra concentration, it is sizzling erotic as Natasha’s charka intertwine with Wanda’s as it chokes your inner essence.

Wanda’s fingers pinching in the air, weaving your life-force, your hips bucking into the air, as your impending orgasm is roaring — your pussy is swollen and soaking. Your soppy hole clenches and pulsates against an enigmatic fullness, Wanda exploring yet violating your cavern — touching against your moist walls, your clit throbbing and hot.

“Fuck — I — I need to c–cum!” Sputtering over your blubbering lips, a snarl rumbles in Wanda’s chest, as she hovered a bit by the knees, the power over three energies was carnal.

Natasha’s head tilts backward, her fiery hair curtaining her face, her baby-hairs sticking against her forehead from brewing sweat; pinching her nipples painfully between her fingertips, groping her breasts in the cups of her palms. “I need to feel her cunt against mine.” Her voice is hardened and desperate.

Natasha’s head snaps upward, staring directly at your sweltering face, the greenery in her pupils darken and dilate.

A growl seethes from Natasha’s wet lips, low and dangerous. Your muscles shake; pleasure engulfing your limbs, weakly trapped in this mystic force, forced to enjoy Wanda’s manipulation. Moving like rivers upon your skin, unraveling waves washing over you — suffocating, painfully sweet.

Despite Wanda taking unbridled control, ravaging your body as if she owns it, weaving pleasure from you as if she knows your body from the inside out, as if she knows every sweet-spot, and tick inside you for years — there is a layer of gentility. Impulsive, yet soft. A tender lover, a pinch to savor.

Groans, grunts, and high-pitched moans echo as corrupted sympathies and bounce against the wall pavements, ringing in your ears. Flushed cheeks, sepia skin now tinted with pinkish shades spreading throughout your body.

Bliss swelling and sealing in your limber legs, aching in the best possible way. Cattle-wails of desperation, a dribble of cum trails between your wet folds and between your cheeks hitting your puckered asshole.

Wanda’s witchy slender fingers fiddle, makeshift claws to create more pressure — releasing more telepathic vitality for Natasha and yourself to ride out your orgasms.

With a flicker of Wanda’s index finger – maneuvering to the form of a pistol – a trigger, a jolt of energy bolts at your navel. A bullet. You convulse, airy pants, your torso heaving with your thighs quaking in its tight hold.

A snap bursts within you, your eyes opening widely, translucent colors combust upon your vision — worldly satisfaction manifesting into reality. In unison, all three souls unleash guttural moans.

Wanda’s fingers tremble, sucking in breath through her teeth, her energy fading into thin air, retreating back into her palms. A sharp guttural groan spilt from Natasha, a skin-peeling frenzy; basking in the astral aura that is the Slovakian witch. Your thighs collapse down debilitating from your torso.

Almost falling like an empty sack, Natasha tries to steady her breathing, as she loses herself completely at the heightened senses of her orgasm. It was such a sight, heaving over, crooked elbows denting against the mattress — on all fours, her spine heaving upward as tremors convulsed.

Never have you ever seen Natasha lose her stature in all the years of knowing her, ever so the chilling demure nature — only in your wildest fantasies have you dreamt of Natasha torn at the seams.

At the corners of her jaw, was tinged pale pink upon a damp milky surface, with her glossy eyes, adding to the primal gaze. Zoned out, peering through her lashes, her eyes are feral. Unhinged, ready for the kill.

“Keep her legs open.” Natasha hisses, nostrils flaring. Wanda slithers away, wobbling a bit by her knee-caps. Humming with a knowing smirk at Natasha, licking her upper lip with her pink tongue – she knows what Natasha wants. “I want her mouth.” Wanda snickers, a glint of mischief at her eye. Hastening breath fans over your bare shoulder, from her button nose against your sculpted collarbone.

Choking a bit, gasping for a full breath to tame your heightened nerve endings; your mouth parted. Gulping back your dry throat.

Wanda clicks her tongue, her nimble fingers trace the lines of your lips. “Keep that mouth open, dove. I’m going to quench your thirst.” Sneaky mind-reader. Sultry thick accent spells you for a momentary lapse.

“Please, wait. Give me a momen — aggh!” A plea falling on deaf ears is strangled into a wanton cry. Your hands shake, hugging yourself against your chest, arms crossing; trying to comfort yourself.

A painful slap against your clit, over-sensitive and squirming. Heat blooming throughout your hooded clit. “I don’t think so. We’ll stop when we say, got it?” Natasha snipes.

A pregnant pause.

Smack.

“Understood?” Natasha barks again, with a vengeful clap of her hand — as if it possesses the power of a god, unmerciful; but worships you in the smooth rubs on the stinging flesh. Your lips parting into a moan, a few sniffles muffled — it’s whiny and pathetic.

“Don’t cry. We’ll make you feel good again. Don’t you want that?” Wanda’s lips hover over you, against your cheeks, her teeth slightly grazing against your skin. A bite at your inner thigh, a warning. Natasha’s more aggressive. Wild, impatient, and just savage to devour you, for you to comply with their demands.

“Yes. Just wait, I’m sensitive.” You needed a reprieve, a breather from the intense third-eye cosmic orgasm you just had a few minutes ago. “No time to waste.” Wanda perks, a soft kiss on your lips. The witch balances herself over your head, trapping your skull between her thighs. Above your lips was her peach-fuzz cunt, dripping and inviting.

A tiny voice at the back of your head informing you that this is beyond wrong, red flags and alarm bells ringing that the circumstances after this will be catastrophic.

Fingers sliding in your curls, glides open-palm against your head, “C’mon, dove. Open wide. We know you’ve dreamt of having a taste. Don’t be shy now. You weren’t last night.” Wanda’s clutch shifted into an iron grip, pain over-riding your humiliation.

“Loud, wet — very eager to please, to impress.” Natasha kept listing off how you acted in bed, closing your eyes shut in embarrassment. What if this is just a tryst? A mere game for a married couple to spice their sex life? Years worth of emotional baggage and scars begin surfacing to your murky mind. A good lay.

And when Wanda and Natasha are done with you without a second thought, using your body after a good late night and morning fuck, despite questionable undertones --- confusion.

Your body yearns for their touch, going against your better judgement; it’s best to sit down and discuss this like rational adults. Another part of you wants to claw at both of them, for lying to you. Using Thor’s ale against you to lure you to the lion’s den. What if after this, they don’t want you? A mind-game to throw you off. Fearing to lose a friendship over a momentary lapse of hot sex.

Restricting back burning tears, ‘very eager to please, to impress.’ That’s you, always ready to bend over to get people to like you — it even transcended into your sex life. Motivated by liquor and you lost yourself to lust and temptation, although these two used your drunk state against you. A humiliating sight you probably were.

“Get out of your head, miláčik.” You sigh, slowly opening your eyes. Your breath hitches, Wanda stares down at you with sympathetic hues. “We’re not going to throw you away. We’re not going anywhere.” Relenting her harsh grip, the pads of her fingers soothe the remaining ache.

“You’re ours.” Firm and demanding. Natasha spreads your weak legs open once again, positioning herself to sit interlocked with you. Natasha hums, “Don’t even think of leaving us. You know we’re capable of catching you. Chain you to the bed if we have to.” Her cunt against yours, clit to clit.

You can feel the wet slick that coated between her asscheeks, a slip n’ slide as her ass sprawled against your wet thigh. Her fingers clawing against your thigh to top it over her leg. Quaking a bit, a shiver crawls up your spine.

The insanity of it all, you just wanna hide away. “Be good, miláčik.” Wanda descends upon your face, her natural essence wafting deeply in your airways — flooding your senses. You shouldn’t be thriving off of this sex but it was hot and incredible.

Wanda comfortably situates herself as if she sits on a throne —- as if she owns you. Your protests are muffled into mumbles, as your lips wrap around her swollen snatch. Your nose nestled against her short curls, the tender skin was like silk against your palate.

A crude shift from Natasha’s waist, a strident thrust as she begins tribbing you, you are moaning against Wanda, herself shuddering as her hips sway up and down upon your cheeks.

Vulgar Russian curses heave from Wanda’s lips, high-pitched and transcending into orgasmic nirvana. Natasha is growling — slipping into Russian curses and wanton moans — taking what’s hers as she keeps riding herself on you. Sucking through your teeth, you nibble on Wanda’s clit, and tugging her slippery labia between sucked in lips.

Vociferous wails and whimpers, a cadence of sticky slick mixing from one cunt to another. A lubricant that was chafing against flesh. The lewd differences between these two women is clear as day.

Wanda is the bright sunny day and Natasha is the inky night. Soft is Wanda in shades and colors; with benevolent timbre. Amorous is Natasha but in darker tints, with a reserved mask; with raspy timbre. Both ravenous for control. The pinnacles of what many women strive to be with superior intellect, beauty, and brawns.

Being the gay bottom you are, it’s no surprise for you to be charmed by such powerful women. After many hookups with women over the years, this was the most intense and enthralling one yet.

Years of crushing on them from afar has led up to this. Fresh-faced and more enchanting than before, Wanda sighs in content and victory, as she gawks down at you from her tottering head. Her tousled tresses curtaining her cheeks, riding with more enthusiasm as your lashes flutter. With a dominant drive, Natasha’s groans as she’s close to cum.

Her wetness and yours adds to the sensation on your clit. All three bodies fumbling at bit from the brutal-pace of face-fucking and cunt riding. The headboard hits the wall a bit, matching the frenetic grinding of skin to skin.

Shedding their heroic femme skins and turning into savages. Nasty. Filthy. Corrupt. Your fingernails dredge into Wanda’s femurs, prowling skyward the sweaty region of her hips, to the toned plains of her tummy to finally the mountain peaks of bosoms.

Pinching her pink nipples between your fingers to the point of making her yelp, it was an unspoken incentive for her to ride your mouth harder. Teeth tenderly gnashing inside her pussy lips.

Ragged murmurs, clipped curses, and taunts – You like it? Yeah, you were made to be under us, withering, and shaking. You want me to cum all over your face, pretty girl? Have Natasha drown your pussy with her cum? Yeah, dove, I can feel your clit pulse against mine!

Shocked silence as your astonished eyes widen, your mouth is flooded with cum. Rendered speechless, airy gasps from Wanda and Natasha is still upon your cunt, small mewls from her, now beyond sloppy and wet; a mixture of your cum and hers. Natasha’s hips juddering against yours, riding the last of her orgasm.

“What a good dove, we have,” Natasha speaks through the thick silence. Wanda hoists herself up by the knees, as you gasp for more air — your entire mouth now glistening with her fluid.

“Yes, she’s so good. Took everything we gave her like a good girl.” Wanda coos at you, hooded lids with a sultry curve of her lashes flutter at you; jolting away as she laid back on the bed with a wheezing breath. Regaining her composure, her dainty fingertips graze against your sweaty forehead to flip curls that strayed on your eye-lids. It was intimate, too intimate — it is the touch of a lover.

Natasha releases your leg, it was a bit strained from her fingernails and tight grip. Her hands cup your tummy, kissing by the navel; as she repositions herself by your side, mimicking her wife’s action. Caressing hands on your arms, dainty fingers soothing against your breasts, and shushing your rapid breaths.

Sandwiching you between themselves, a sudden direction on your belly was taken. Both Wanda and Natasha soothe the smooth clammy skin, with curling smirks that were both devilish yet attractive.

With a silent conversation that you aren’t privy to, confused as they both looked at each other with knowing gloating stares. Wanda takes her own pillow and fluffs it between her hands, as Natasha upraises your curved hips. Once again, you’re left in the dark, thrusted back into demoralization and bewilderment.

Is this it? Now that this married couple — who you idolized, and cherished this friendship with — has had their fill, who are you to them? Words birthed during the mist of lust are empty promises most of the time. Is this friendship over? Do you even have the mental capacity to continue this friendship after this tirade?

Bone-shattering orgasm after orgasm was ripped from you, and yes, it was amazing to the core, but there was a part of you in the midst of clouded hazy sex, that you didn’t want it. To be touched, you just wanted some space to recollect and process your feelings about this entire messy ordeal. You’re not sure what you want really out of life --- especially out of a polygamorous relationship.

What does this say about Natasha and Wanda?

This was a scene contrasting their usual masks of personalities, yet it molds and blends into their psyches just accordingly. It’s terrifying.

You stiffen at the revelation, serrated images were slowly circulating around your mind like the stingers of raging wasps; the small brushes of knuckles against yours, the over-friendly back massages, the persistent need to have you in their presence at all times that was mislabeled ‘just to hang out’ and ‘we miss our best friend.’ And with your yearning affection, it was easy to follow the wolves to the den for the slaughter.

Facades of kind smiles, words of advice, late-night talks that delved into and entrusted girl nights — was something darker, something sinister boiling underneath the surface.

Palms driven with cursory attached upon your arms, gripping and digging; it is demanding. Scooping underneath your bum, open palms gripping your globes, and heaving upward so your hips are positioned in the air. Wanda grabs an extra plush pillow, and Natasha maneuvers your bottom down on the pillow.

“What are you two doing now?” You are a bit irritated – tone clipped – at your running-at-a-mile per second thoughts, and sore at the muscles.

“Hush, you’ll see.” Wanda snickers, as she plushes the pillow underneath your bum. Natasha gingerly holds you down as Wanda dashes to the nearby bedside drawer. Her open-palms caress your belly, ogling with much affection and pride.

“I can’t wait.” A soft smooch above your located uterus. Anxiety filling your veins at the unknown, you begin wiggling in Natasha’s tight hold. Wondering what in the fuck, she meant. “Relax. Let it happen.” Natasha’s words were not settling your nerves, it only makes the panic hitch.

In Wanda’s palm was a turkey-baster, filled to the brim with white sloshing liquid. Eyeing the baster with pure excitement shining in her eyes, her eyes nearly criss-cross as she inspects the foreign fluid almost oozing out of its confinement.

“Perfectly curated semen for the perfect womb.” A bulb breaks and explodes in your head — emptying your dome into nothingness — thrashing in Natasha’s lethal lock. She sighs with a disapproving shake of the head, stretching your arms into a pretzel lock against your chest; painting brown skin in splotches of lavender hand-prints.

Whilst Natasha confines your fore-arms in her restraints for hands, putting weight on your upper body into the bed; Wanda’s eyes glow with fury, once again forcing down your legs. “Relax, dove. This is what we wanted with you for so long. Don’t you want to be with us?” Wanda seethes with a crooked grin, as she leers down at your shaking body.

How she revels in your weak state under her touch. Makes her urges to fuck you with her strap and make you scream like the perfect little bitch you are. Their perfect dove.

“Why?” A watery cry, before succumbing to your fate — who are you to fight against a powerful telekinetic, and one of the world’s greatest retired assassins? The only outcome would be death.

“Because we love you. You’re the one to carry our baby. I can just —” Natasha groans, her eyes rolling back in yearning. “– imagine your belly swollen, waddling bare-foot. Breast-feeding — fuck — you’re already breath-taking, miláčik, but God, you’re going to give us heart-attacks.” Her voice drops an octave lower. Natasha leans her head lower, a kiss on the crease between your brows.

Your body shivers as you feel the chilled tip of the turkey-baster nearing your gaping hole, you begin weeping quietly.

Wanda shushes you, “It’s okay, milacik. You’re going to be a great mommy. Three mommies and two daddies. The baby will be the most beloved and protected little one.” A warm smile graces Wanda’s rosy cheeks. Three mommies? A dream of having a family now enforced upon you, this is a clusterfuck. Firstly, tricked by your own drunken state, second, pinned down for morning sex, and now you’re going to be impregnated by a fucking baster?

Wait --- two daddies?

“Two daddies? What? Wait, who’s the father?” You shrill, your head struggling to peak down at Wanda as she paused mid-way from inserting the cum; your eyes wild and glossy. Wanda chuckles, it sounds genuine — it’s anything but.

“Not just one father, miláčik. Our dutiful Captain and Sergeant.”

You feel light-headed, a hay fever flooding your dome. The tips of your ears feel hot, your head flops back down onto the pillow with a fluffy thud.

An incoherent whisper. “What was that, dove?” Natasha’s thumb rubbing your wrists, coaxing you to speak up. “How is that possible?” You wept, fresh tears coating your face.

“Anything is possible with modern enhanced technology. Now a baby can be genetically linked to two fathers. Isn’t that marvelous?” Wanda gleamed a cheeky smile, her eyes twinkling with unnerving mirth. “Why Steve and Bucky? Do they know what you’re doing?” You almost choke on a strained whine, your face scrunching up tightly.

Praying that Steve and Bucky didn’t have any involvement, nor a speck of encouragement of this insanity. “Of course, they know. We all made the plans together.” Wanda’s hand rubs your thigh to calm you but it only adds to your fright.

“Steve and Bucky are ready to settle down, they always dreamt of having kids. They love you and know you would be the perfect mother to their child. Our child. We’re all going to be one happy family.” And without any moment to spare, Wanda gently thrusts the baster inside of you, squeezing the silicone bulb firmly. You gasp as you felt every drop paint your walls white, drowning inside you.

You twitch in discomfort, your head thrashing side to side, your cheeks hitting the wrinkled sheets. Mutely screaming, teeth gnashing at the air, refusing to accept the inevitable. Natasha peppers your face with kisses to calm you down.

Whispering declarations of love, you restrain any more tears to escape. Wanda cups your belly, it was very subtly swelled from the massive load. “Look how much went inside, Nattie.” Wanda alleviating your distress by small circular motions.

Natasha halts her kisses. She titters a bit, “Well, I’m not surprised. Two enhanced soldiers will deliver a copious amount of cum.” Natasha joins in on the soothing strokes by her fingers. A splotchy memory of Steve and Bucky wickedly smiling while your drunk-self was dragged away to your fate.

Betrayal.

Two people you trusted for years – who you considered close friends — played a role in this capture of enforcing a life of motherhood upon you. You didn’t realize lone tears were trickling down your face until you felt a thumb wipe away.

“Don’t fret, milacik. This will be good for you. For all of us. We know what you need.” Wanda kisses your waist and travels upward your chest in a trail of kisses; as she climbs on you, cuddling by your side, wrapping her arm around your hips, and a leg around yours.

“We’ll treat you so well. Like a queen.” Natasha loosens her grip on your arms, easing the aches in your muscles, but detaining you, to ensure you won’t escape from their grasp. Natasha plants a leg over your legs, positioning next to Wanda’s, sandwiched, and suffocating.

Laxing your body from stiffening under their touch, just trying to mindlessly drift into an impending hazy slumber. “Let’s rest. We’ll tell Bucky and Steve the good news later.” Natasha says in a lulling tone, as both women cuddle to squeeze much closer to you as if they want to reside underneath your skin — tightly, and smothering.

Sedately, your eyes close. Tentatively, their breathing morphs into your focal point, to hear Natasha’s and Wanda’s settle into steady rest. Urgently needing your privacy in sound, and body --- away from nosey intruding psychic.

As you lay there, mute and digesting the perverse treachery like a dry pill ripping down your throat, your tongue weighing heavy, barely registering reality.

Murky thoughts try to align in correction, not to bemoan over the guile that is Natasha and Wanda that was akin to pistoling barrage upon your spirit.

The soft fabric of the pudgy pillow wedged underneath you was burning against your bum, an indicia that could compel an unsought future. The tact to force maternity upon your life, your womb is now without doubt, fertilizing soldier swimmers.

What can you do now? How can you battle against the odds of the inevitable? Cuffed emotionally, and intimately by ex-friends deformed into duplicitous lovers who are now dead to you, and buried in deep, fresh graves in the crevices of your heart.

You must learn from the suffering, and brace the ugliness of being a fool. Your shudder, and bite back a sob as jagged remnants began floating behind your lids of last-night that was thick of debauched moans as slim fingers plunging into your cavern; it was a fleeting splash of excitement but it simmered and dwindled into a piercing ache in your chest.

It was euphoric, but not simply euphoric, there was fear and confusion intertwined too. For many years, you had grappled many weights of trauma, but you couldn’t stomach two damaged hearts.

Love me, love my dog — or so the saying goes. Can you handle being a mother? Are you even capable of being a good mother? You almost snort at the ridiculous notion.

What if aborti--- Jesus, you wouldn’t be able to go far with that option. It’s not even a fucking option. ‘Not with these two.’ You internally huff.

So you’ll wait. Wait it out, move in silence, map out your next course of action. Figure out escapes, leaving behind your life as an Avenger, and the only family you’ve ever had — just be quiet, comply and wait.

All you could do is wait.

#apridec1 #buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #dark natasha romanoff #dark wanda maximoff #dark natasha x reader #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha romanoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark marvel #scarletwidow #wlw

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thalys-artcorner · 3 years

Text

A Cause to be Bothered By.

A oneshot in which Homelander actually gived a damn with the charity event assigned. Canon divergent that allowed to write...wait for...actual fluff. Bet you didn’t see that coming.

*Note: I don’t wanna say @kayemagistro made me do it, but she did provide the initiative xD Based on this post.

She wasn’t sure how much of a good idea it might be to bring Homelander along, but the powers from above had insisted, and there was only so many strings she could pull before they put her back in her place. It was a miracle already that she had managed to pick her own charity work.

But having Homelander with her? For starters, he loathed charity work. It was a waste of his precious time, devoting attention to causes he did not care for nor did he even bother to look up. He hated the idea of taking care of others, he hated the cameras following, the million questions hurting his senses, and above all, he hated weakness. And wasn’t charity all about weakness? Of helping those not strong enough to make it out on their own?

If that wasn’t enough reason, he was in one of his moods that day. One fo those unstable, volatile, violent moods in which he might even turn around and bite his own leash off just to take it out on those around him, hate them and hurt them so he wouldn’t have to face the consequences of his own emotions. He’d even lashed out at her, not caring in the slightest for the fact that she loved him, forgetting that he loved back. Then again, she had been genetically manipulated so that his powers had no effect on her, just as her own had no effect on him. Not that any of that had ever stopped them from trying in the past.

But the media loved them together, probably because they got to see so little of their relationship. That was another of her personal little triumphs. She’d managed to keep Vought’s media team out of her own relationship after showing them that the public responded better to couples who weren’t flaunting their feelings about every single day. It made them more believable. What little the public got to see of Homelander as a boyfriend humanized him in their eyes (which she knew he hated, and it had taken a whole lot of convincing, fighting and angry sex to finally get it through his thick skull that they had to feed something to the masses). Hence, him coming along to the animal shelter with her, with that cold, shiny fake smile he’d been trained to put on his face like makeup whenever the cameras flashed in their direction.

At least, so far, he looked only irritated, which was a welcome cry far from the usual expression that looked like he was wondering whether if snapping some snotty brat’s arm “by accident” might wriggle him out of the event. Probably because he was not being pestered. She hadn’t chosen an animal shelter charity thinking that he would come along, but because she loved animals. Yet it was turning out to be a smart move. “At least you won’t have anyone asking you for autographs and pictures” she’d pointed out just before coming. She’d received a bad-tempered grunt in response, which was better than some snappy remark.

After the usual tedious talk with the owners of the shelter and the promise of a considerable donation and all those annoying displays that involved actual human contact and during which she was really fearing he might break the glass of water he was holding and throw a tantrum, there came the actual interaction with the actual animals. They were brought to a wide backyard in the center of the kennels, in which they were greeted by a hoard of enthusiastic puppies of all sizes and colors, that demanded pats and kisses and belly rubs. She immediately dropped to her knees and opened her arms wide, letting them jump all over her and whimper and place lots of sloppy, wet kisses on her face. She could almost here Homelander saying “I’m not coming anywhere near you covered in dog slobber”.

She looked around for him and noticed him closer to the kennels, his back leaning against one of the cages and his bad mood strong enough for the puppies to sense it and steer clear away from him, even if the humans did not. Suddenly, his nostrils flared, and he turned around, peering inside the kennel he had been leaning against moments before. She caught sight of a figure lurking on a far corner in the back, it’s beady eyes sad and resentful. She could the white of its teeth as its upper lip curled slightly in a snarl.

“Why is this one locked up?”

Homelander surprised everyone when he spoke up after being unusually quiet during the entire event. One of the caretakers of the shelter stepped forward at a prudent distance and cleared her throat “Oh, that’s one of the newbies, sir. He arrived some time ago, after they found him in a compound that raised puppies to become dog fighters in the pit. He’s been abused pretty roughly for one so young, and he’s very aggressive. We have to keep him locked for the moment, for his own safety and those of the other puppies. Sir”.

“It’s not his fault though, is it?”

“What was that, sir?”

Homelander made a gesture with his hand, brushing off the comment “Nothing”.

She hadn’t missed the whole exchange, but as it seemed he wasn’t going to add anything or elaborate, she returned her attention back to the puppies, smiling and asking questions about them, their stories, their health to the various caretakers, while the cameras buzzed around capturing the best moments of her interaction with them so that later, thousand upon thousands of celebrity sites and talk shows would replay them over and over again, sighing over the shadow heroine who took time off fighting crime to think about the well-being of the innocent creatures nobody else bothered to think about.

She was in the middle of answering a question about the animals she had had back in the farm, when there was a sudden exclamation of alarm from one of the caretakers.

“Sir, please, you can’t open that cage!”

Homelander, without anyone really noticing, had opened the door to the aggressive puppy’s cage, and was kneeling by threshold, looking inside at the snarling animal. She could see his lips moving, all though he was murmuring too softly for anyone else to hear. One of the caretakers stepped forward, and the hero immediately raised a hand in the air to stop her.

“Stay back” he ordered through gritted teeth, his jaw set, a small muscle twitching.

“But-”

“I told you to stay back”. His voice was hard and authoritarian. And it had that dangerous edge it had been carrying all day. Yet after a moment, his jaw relaxed ever so slightly, and he started murmuring to the dog inside the kennel again.

It was time to intervene.

She rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest “Everybody leave us for a moment, please. Take these little fellows too, if you would be so kind”.

For a second, nobody moved. She glared at the owner director of the shelter pointedly, a stare that allowed no argument and that she usually reserved for criminals. It worked, and everyone, including the camera crew, were soon hurrying out, picking up the puppies with them, until the backyard was completely clear, except for her, Homelander, and the puppy inside the kennel. Slowly, she approached them, until she was able to crouch beside him and gently rest a hand on his shoulder.

“John?” she called out now that they were alone.

He didn’t reply, still focused on the dog in front of them. It had stopped snarling, and was now standing a few steps away from them, its belly pressed to the ground as he slowly, warily, crawled towards Homelander’s extended gloved hand. Its black lips twitched from time to time, and its hair was standing on end, but he nonetheless drew closer, until his nose was only a few centimeters away from Homelander’s hand.

“Make way for him” the man whispered, as he too took a step to the side, clearing the doorway for the dog. It hesitated. And then, finally, stepped out onto the grass with unsure footsteps.

For a long moment, the puppy simply stood there, as if it could not quite believe it was outside, free, and nobody was stopping him or forcing him back to his cage. It looked like a mixed breed, something halfway between a Pitbull and a Rottweiler. How stereotypical. It blinked under the sunlight, and then, finally, sat on its hunches first, and then extended out his front legs, and laid down in the sun.

Then Homelander reached out to him. The animal immediately snapped and revealed its fangs once more, growling. Homelander pulled his hands back, an obviously outraged frown on his face. And for a moment, she feared he might cut it in half. But his expression eventually softened. He peeled off his glove, and reached out again, this time ever so slowly, making sure the puppy was catching every one of his movements and not taken by surprise. The puppy didn’t growl but stared at him warningly. Finally, it allowed the superhero to rest his hand on its back and pet him. The hair along his back stopped raising, and suddenly, its eyes weren’t glazed with anger anymore.

She released the breath that until then, she hadn’t realized she had been holding, still not quite sure what it was that she was seeing. He’d actually taken the time to coax the puppy out of its cage, and instead of lashing out when it had rejected his initial approach, changed his strategy to suit the animal’s needs. She had never seen him go to such effort for someone else, not in a long, long time; except perhaps for her.

Slowly, mimicking his actions, she reached out to the puppy, whispering soothing words to it. It allowed her to pet him too, and while Homelander scratched it behind the ears, she ran her hand along its back.

And then, as if the entire situation wasn’t already unexpected enough, the little fellow flopped onto his back and exposed is dark brown belly to them, demanding belly rubs. Belly rubs!

“John” she called at him again “What the hell are you doing exactly?”

“Aggressive my ass” he finally said, his eyes never leaving the puppy as it started to twitch one of its hind legs “He’s just tired of being locked up in a fucking cage, with people ordering him about and calling him out”.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Her eyes opened in realization, and she breathed out softly “Does he sound familiar to you?”

Homelander finally lifted his face to look at her. His blue eyes were soft, showing genuine emotion for the first time that day. It seemed like his anger had finally subdued. In his gaze, she actually saw the implicit apology for his behavior towards her earlier that day. Homelander never apologized, but she knew how to look for that feeling in his eyes. They could be almost naively transparent when he wasn’t thinking.

“Someone should have bothered to ask him what he wanted. Maybe if they stopped treating him like a potential killing machine, he wouldn’t be all growls and snaps” he shrugged.

The puppy emitted a playful yelp. It sat back up, and stepped closer to Homelander, until it rested its snout on top of his knees and looked up to him. Grateful. Trusting. Every so slightly, its short tail wiggled.

And then, without any explanation, Homelander scooped him up and rose to his feet. She rose with him, still not quite believing her eyes. “I know that look. What exactly are you planning?” she knew that determined set on his jaw when he set his mind on something.

“I think he’s seen enough of kennels to last a lifetime. I’m taking him with us. If these people won’t bother to actually treat him according to his needs, then…” suddenly he stopped, as if he had just realized what he had been about to say. His expression was almost comical as he cleared his throat “Well…he shouldn’t be here anyways”.

She cracked a grin, and took a step closed to rub the puppy’s head. It had started to doze off in Homelander’s arms. The hero, after a moment, reached out and wrapped his free arm around her waist.

“You do realize they’re going to lose their shit back at the tower with a dog running about, right?”

Homelander looked at her, his face serious. He didn’t care. He’d do as he damn well pleased. She knew that look. It said mine. Suddenly, he grinned at her, before looking down at the dozing pup in his arms. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t. How about you, buddy?”

#homelander #the boys #i don't know what this is #i can't believe im saying this but homelander said dog rights?#my writing

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thecolordemon · 4 years

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NSFW with wolf Luci, based on paws and claws event! Pretty pleeeeaase??

Request: NSFW shortstory with wolf Lucifer, based on the paws and claws event!🐺🔞

You were the centre of the whole attention. Every single one of the demon brothers wanted to spend time with you, the primal insitincts kicking in harshly. At first it was pretty fun. But now: hours later and with the night approaching like a dark horse, it was just nerve-racking. Mammon was constantly fighting with Satan and Levi was still upset that he was the only herbivore of the group. Asmodeus wouldn't stop taking pictures with you because he wanted fo show the world how cute you both looked. Beelzebub went on a new search for more food and Belphegor...well he was trying to conivince you to take a nap on his new fluffy foxtail. You were just going to say something but in that second Lucifer stepped in. "Enough!" His wolfish ears twitched and his long grey tail brushed over your cheek. "Can't you all see that MC is getting tired of all your constant babbling and chaotic nature? It's enough now!"

Your fingers brushed over the spot where Lucifer's tail touched it. It felt stangely warm... But before you were able to examine this further, Lucifer pulled you up to your feet. "We'll get you to safety! No more brawling and fighting! It's time for you to get some proper rest." And with this words he dragged you out of the living room.

Lucifer pushed you softly inside his room and the loud noises from the others died down immediately. It was dark and the room smelled like fresh oak, earl grey tea and a hint of nostalgia. "I knew this would end in a disaster but now they're just exaggerating." The avatar of pride huffed and flexed his shoulders. "Aren't you effected too?", you asked softly and sat down on the bed. You had noticed that he was quiet touchy through the whole day ever since he was influenced with the strange potion. "I've got enough pride and self control to keep up my good reputation." You didn't notice that he had started to circle you slowly because the darkness swallowed his tall frame. "But I have to admit.-" Suddenly his dark, velvet voice was very close to your ear. "-that I'm kind of tired of pulling myself together. Especially when my 'beloved' brothers are not around..." The last word wasn't much more as a heavy hum. Unexpectedly you felt something rough and wet pressed against the crook of your neck. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when Lucifers tongue travled upwards and left hot saliva on your sensitive skin. He could feel your heart pumping your blood rapidly through your body when the tip of his tongue traced over your carotid artery. A shaky moan left your lips. That was one of your special spots...

Lucifer chuckled deeply and his sharp teeth bit down softly. Your thin skin was nearly tearing and he could taste your rapid heartbeat. "Someones rather excited, aren't we?" He laughed and nibbled at your earlobe. His hot breath made you quiver in anticipation and you could do nothing else but to press your thighs together to gain a little friction. "Lucifer-"

"Yes, MC?" You could feel him smirk against your neck. "W-what are you doing to me?" The demon laughed and it sounded like distant thunder rolling over a sharp-edged mountain. "I'll show you the art of mating, MC..." Your breath hitched in your throat while your heartbeat thumbed louder. Clearly you misunterstood him-there was now way-

But all your dubts got swept away when his claws wandered over your thighs. You got ghoose bumps and shivered. Lucifer kneeled down between your legs and sniffed slightly. The rim of your skirt shielded your underwear from his predatory eyes but you couldn't help but notice the growing wet patch on the soft fabric. "You know-ever since I turned into some kind of wolf- some of my senses seem way more sharper now." He grinned diabolicaly and ripped your skirt of in a swift motion. "I can hear your quickend heartbeat, I sense your arousal and feelings even better...but I can also smell that your more than ready for me to claim you as mine." He pushed your legs apart and his crimson red glowing eyes focused on the damp growing spot on your panties.

The blood rushed on your cheeks and made you blush like hell. Lucifer snickered and rubbed the tip of his nose against your clothed clit. You bit your lip at the sensual friction and had to hold back a moan. "Don't fight it, MC. You smell delicious...give in..."

That's when his rough tongue swipes over the thin fabric of your panties. The material is soaked within seconds by your sticky juices and his warm saliva. His hot breath tickled your skin and you could feel the heat that radiated of his muscular strong body. Lucifer grabed the rim of your panties and riped them in a half. "You won't need them anymore-"

Without hestiation his rough tongue swiped heavily over your exposed sex, leaving sticky stripes of saliva all over you sensitive nerves. The normally very patient demon wasted no time and moved his tongue skillfully and full of hunger. His hands grabbed your trembling legs and held them in place. He didn't want to waste a single drop of your delicious liquids. It was insane how his magnificent mouth toyed with you in all the right ways. When his tongue entered you, you already were a squirming mess. "Lucifer please--I can't anymore--"

You lost it again when his tongue twirled and twisted perfectly inside you and reached all the sensitive spots. Your muscles started twitching and pulled together in excitement, you could feel your orgasm building faster. But that was the same moment when Lucifer parted his lips from your sex with a slurping sound. His whole mouth was covered in your juices and he still had the audacity to grin at you like a wolf at its prey.

You wailed desperately. "I need it-" The avatar of pride beamed with self confidence and got up on his feet. "Beg. Beg like you really mean it, MC." He whiped the stray strands of his black hair out of his face and massaged his throbbing erection through the wrinkled fabric of his pants. He really wanted to feel your thight walls clenched around him and experience the feeling of pumping his thick length in and out in a steady rythm. Just the mere thought of it drove him wild and without hestiation he opend his belt-followed by the zipper and button of his pants.

It nearly took your breath away when you first laid eyes on his twitching dick. The tip was swollen and red and already leaked with some glistening precum. It didn't take him long to push the tip against your wet folds and rub it up and down which caused him to moan up. The sound send shivers down your spine and you could feel the knot inside your lower body thightening. "Please-" you whimpered. "Please fuck me already, Lucifer I need you-"

The powerful demon growled darkly and did not hestiate to follow this plea of yours. He pushed your legs more apart before he slowly started to enter his thick length inside of you. First it was just the swollen tip but it was soon followed by the rest of his pulsing cock. You threw your head back and Lucifer moaned in pleasure. He started thrusting deep inside you right away and as he angled himself it made you see stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled Lucifer's dim room, mixed with his heavy breathing and your constant mewling.

He was towering above you like a skyscraper, his thrusts making you sing a lewd melody. Your interaction echoed through the hallway and his low pants next to your ear nearly send you over the edge. The tip of his member swept over your G-spot repeatingly and this made your walls quiver in excitement. Lucifers claws were digging into the soft flesh of your hips and it would surely leave a bruise. You could feel his bumps getting erractic and faster which announced that he was just as close as you. Your name left his lips like a sinful prayer over and over again.

"MC-"

"Lucifer--"

Then it wrecked both of you. He bit down into the crook of your neck and his sharp teeth drawed a little bit of blood, while his cock released long spurts of thick, white cum inside your womb. You couldn't stop yourself from screaming his name when your walls clenched around his member and milked every single drop of cum from him.

While relaxing in the warm hug of your afterglow you could feel him peppering soft kisses all over your neck and throat. He gently licked over the biting mark. "You did so well, little one...", he whispered, a low rumble emerging from his chest.

(I hope you guys like it😅❤)

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