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roanniom · 2 years

Note

Eddie find out you had a bad day and offers to fix it for you....with his cock.

Make You Feel Good

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex, unprotected sex, sliiight dumbification (the dream tbh)

Eddie has been excited to see you all day. He had a really good practice session with his band and scouting a couple venues in the next town over had proven to be pretty fruitful, with a gig now lined up for the following week.

When you finally arrive at his trailer in the evening, however, you seem to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. You drop your bag at the door and then drop your body onto the sofa beside him.

"Well hello to you, too, princess," he says with a laugh, gathering you into his arms and pulling you against his chest.

"Sorry, it's been a real bitch of a day," you respond, muffling your words into his shirt. Eddie moans loudly on your behalf and buries his face in your hair.

"And what do we say when a day is a bitch?"

You lift your arm up weekly to show your middle finger.

"Fuck her?" you offer quietly. Eddie lifts up his own middle finger aggressively.

"Exactly! Fuck her!"

You dissolve into laughter in spite of yourself and Eddie's smile grows wider. There's nothing he loves more on this planet than making you laugh. As you calm down, though, he can still see some of the stress in your eyes. So he shifts you around in his lap until your back is to him, and his ringed hands go to work kneading the tension out of your shoulder muscles.

"Want to tell me about what's got you down?" he suggests quietly after a few minutes. You've begun to melt under his touch and let a few moans rumble up from deep inside of you.

"Nothing in particular. Shitty customers, bad luck, and a....mmm. Sore body."

"I hear ya, baby," Eddie says with syrupy sympathy in his voice. His hands begin sweeping everywhere, pressing into your sore muscles and turning you into a puddle beneath his fingers.

"Good?" he asks after you let out a particularly satisfied moan.

"So good, Eddie. You fucking undo me." You don't try to hide the desire in your tone.

"Hey that's my line." His breath is hot against your ear and you shiver in his grasp. "If you really want me to make you feel better, I'm more than happy to." He rolls his hips up into you, showcasing the erection that has slowly been making itself more and more known since he first sat you in his lap.

"Aaand that's my line," you giggle, referencing all the times you've made his shitty days better by climbing onto him and riding him into the sunset.

Eddie's face is in the crook of your neck now, his lips sucking lightly at your shoulder.

"Am I not allowed to borrow it?"

"If you keep taking all of my moves, what will that leave me with?" you breathe. The breath turns into a gasp when his hand smooths over your hip, pulls up your skirt, and cups your pussy deliberatly.

"This perfect pussy," he reasons and you laugh. One finger traces the outline of your slit. You're wet already - his hands having done wonders on you, his words in your ear simply the icing on the cake. Eddie hums against your throat. "Come on, baby, I know I can make you feel so good."

"Mmmm, you promise?" you ask without any true question, eyes closing in pleasure as his finger begins circling your clothed clit.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, princess." As he says it, he makes the sign of the cross over your heart before reaching down and covering your breast with his palm. "And if I die...hoo boy, what a way to go."

You undulate your hips down against him a little impatiently, grabbing onto his splayed knees for leverage.

"Alright. Make me feel good, Eddie Munson."

He's swift yet gentle in response. Without really having to expend much thought or energy, you allow Eddie to manipulate your body until you're divested of your panties and his jeans are yanked down. Your shirt and bra are pulled askew so his hand can fondle your breasts to his heart's - and your - content. His cock slots between your legs, the length of him sliding parallel to your folds and gathering your waiting slick.

"My baby wants this, yeah?" he asks. His hand splays over the lower portion of your abdomen and a finger dips down to play with your already aching clit.

"I want it bad, Eddie." He obliges you, lifting you up and helping you hover over his member. He teases the head of it against your hole and you let out a whine of anticipation.

"Gonna make you forget your damn name, let alone this shit day," he says huskily before dropping you down slowly on his cock. You fight the urge to writhe against the sensation of intrusion but moan deeply when he settles inside you, bottoming out.

"Yes - yes," is all you manage to say. He feels so good inside you. Filling you up to the brim and leaving no space for exhaustion or stress. There is only Eddie and the places where your bodies meet.

For a while the only sound in the room are your shared grunts and the slapping of your skin as the bottoms of you thighs meet the top of his over and over. The Eddie speaks up.

"You should take next Sunday off. Lay in bed all day while I wait on you hand and foot," he suggests, voice strained with effort as he continues to lift you up and down.

"You angling to be my servant for the day, Munson?" you tease. He huffs out a laugh.

"More like your devotee," he rumbles in your ear, pushing in to press kisses on the side of your neck. "Let me worship at my sacred altar." His hand dips between your legs and swirls luxurious designs into your clit, making you gasp. "Allow me to be baptized in the waters of your temple." He lifts his hand up from between your legs to show where your arousal has webbed wetly between his fingers. He brings said fingers to his lips and your gaze follows him over your shoulder so you can watch him suck the taste of you into his mouth. With his eyes closed he savors. "Permit me to drink the nectar of you."

"You are so w-weird, Eddie," you say on a shaky laugh, but you're clenching down around him at the sound of his beautiful, absurd, over dramatic words.

"Oh no!" Eddie gasps, gripping your shoulders suddenly. "The patient! She speaks! And coherently at that!"

"Eddie..." you say, rolling your eyes.

"I must not be doing my job," he says, resituating you in his lap and taking a more firm grasp on your hips. "To properly exorcise a shitty day I've got to get you so fucked out that you can't string two words together."

“Eddie, you’re being absolutely ridiculous, this -,”

“Ah!” Eddie exclaims, suddenly setting a brutal pace that makes you cry out. “That was six words. You trying to mock me? Trying to give me a challenge?” Your find yourself flailing and reaching for any part of him in order to ground yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts. One hand grabs onto his thigh while the other reaches behind you and grasps at his neck. “You know better than to do that. You know how competitive I am, baby.”

His cock slides almost all the way out before ramming back in at a breakneck speed. He’s going so fast your thighs are shaking.

And then, just as abruptly as he began, Eddie’s slowing downdowndown, almost to a stand still. You’re worried he’s going to stop, which would be awful considering the proximity of your nearing orgasm. But instead of stopping, he restarts with an achingly slow pace this time. A pace that has you feeling every glorious inch of his member in a new way. Has you sure you can sense each ridge within you.

His hand returns to play with your clit, but his palm presses against your abdomen this time.

“Fuck, I can feel myself inside you. Feel that.” He rips your hand from his thigh and places it over your own abdomen where you can feel him stretching you from the inside out. Feel his cock shifting within. You whimper in response.

“Holy fuck, Eddie, oh my -,”

“And that’s five words,” he interrupts you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him over your shoulder. “Closer but no dice.” He surges forward and captures your lips with his own. His tongue plunders your mouth and you grow hotter and needier, grinding down on him with every upward thrust.

He’s taking you apart piece by piece, and the building tension within you holds the promise that he’ll help you shatter entirely. Eddie lets go of your hand and returns his fingers to your clit to trace designs back into the wanting bud.

“Play with these tits for me. I don’t have enough hands,” he grumbles against your lips, actual laughable frustration on his face. “I need more hands, damn it!”

You find yourself giggling as you do what he says, cupping your own breasts and playing with your nipples. As he intended, this helps you rocket even closer to the edge.

“Oh my...oh...” you practically whimper. Eddie chuckles behind you.

“Three words. I’d say we’re close now, aren’t we sweetheart?”

“Eddie, I...” you throw back your head against his shoulder and give yourself over to the building pleasure. Your hips quake and your pussy seizes up on his cock.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t think. Just feel.” His voice is pained and you know he’s holding off cumming for you. “You feel soooo fucking good. Want to fuck you till you’re nice and relaxed. Can we get you there, princess?”

You want to respond, you really do. But you’re finding yourself at a loss for words. He changes the pace shortly after that, an adjustment that staves off your orgasm again.

“H-hey,” you protest weakly as your pleasure recedes from an inferno back into a slow burn.

“I said I wanted you fucked out. That takes time,” Eddie explains smugly, clearly pleased to be successfully edging you.

He continues like this for almost an hour. Taking you out to the ledge only to turn around and bring you back with soft touches or breaks at the last moment. He kisses you when you whine and presses hushes against your skin when you beg.

Finally he’s got you right where he wants you. You’re a wet, writhing mess in his lap and your gasps are no longer coherent. You sob out your frustration and hold onto him for dear life as he kicks his thrusts back into gear.

“Thinking about your shitty day now, princess?” Eddie asks, breathless and hoarse, not unaffected by this marathon himself. You shake your head violently and pant openly. “Good. Good. And does my princess want to cum?”

“Eddie!” Is all you can cry out. It’s all you know anymore. Other than the phrase “my princess.” He’s called you his before but with your nerves stripped raw and your pussy aching around him and your head empty, “my princess” takes up prime real estate in your brain. You imagine being here, bouncing on his cock always - on good days and bad days - and a tortured part of you wants him to keep edging you forever.

But then Eddie is nibbling on the space below your ear and moaning so sweetly as an indication of his own pleasure and suddenly you’re tumbling into the abyss. Your orgasm crashes into you and you scream out Eddie’s name, clenching and spasming on his cock. Your bodily reaction takes him over with you, and he cums inside you with a slurry of curses mixed together with your name.

You don’t come down from cloud nine until you feel your back hit Eddie’s mattress. He’s brought you into his room and stripped you of your final piece of clothing.

“That’s it, baby. You ride that natural high,” he says with a big shit eating grin. He’s lighting a cigarette while standing over you and you chuckle, rolling your eyes back into your head.

“You’re a menace, Eddie Munson.” Eddie laughs and exhales a puff of smoke, taking a second to gaze down at you, taking in your whole body where it reclines on his bed.

“So they tell me, princess.” He drops down suddenly, making you giggle and flinch as you anticipate the impact of his weight, but he catches himself at the last second, holding himself just a centimeter above you on the bed. He nuzzles your nose with his own before kissing you deeply. “So they tell me.”

~*~

Tiny Eddie Munson taglist made up of people who I think are interested: @millenialcatlady @theongreyjoy @cowboy-kylo @addiiscryingrn @ginnylupin @shesthegirlnextdoor1

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 4 years

Text

you weren’t supposed to hear that (F! reader)

A collection of instances where your roommate hears you moaning their name whilst your fingers are between your legs. Or your neighbor. Or maybe you walk in on them saying your name. Take your pick 😈

warnings: NSFW, manga spoilers (in terms of what the boys do post timeskip), degradation (i think?)

a/n: i'm so nervous about this one LOL i’m super into Sakusa but I don’t know much about him tbh. he’s some good eye candy and that’s all i got. and i like the idea that he’d be a bit softer with you. anyways, hope you enjoy ✨J

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium

Other parts: Kuroo | Ushijima

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you filled out the application to be Sakusa’s roommate. The application was straightforward, maybe a bit excessive, particularly in the cleaning department, but nothing you couldn’t handle. And you would’ve done almost anything to be accepted given the price was a steal and the owner of the apartment claimed they would be away frequently. So, agreeing to a few ridiculous housekeeping requests seemed reasonable to you.

All Sakusa wanted was someone to look after his apartment while he was gone, keep it tidy and clean it thoroughly before he returns. You also had to send pictures of the state of your current apartment to ‘prove’ your cleanliness. Excessive, but retrospectively—extremely worth it.

Though what you hadn’t been expecting was for the owner of the apartment to be Sakusa Kiyoomi, an outside hitter for the MSBY Black Jackals. Nor had you expected him to actually accept your application.

In all honesty, Sakusa had been a little desperate. Nobody who’d applied came even close to his expectations, and when he’d read you clean your bathroom at least once a week, it was like a breath of fresh air. And when he met you, you were pleasant and described that you mainly like to keep to yourself which sounded perfect to him. But what really convinced him was that you showed up wearing a mask. He wasn’t sure if you could tell how surprised he was, but the second he saw it, he almost accepted you on the spot.

That was over a year ago now and you and Sakusa have been living in a comfortable rhythm. When he’s home, you gladly help him clean when you have the time, and sometimes when he gets home from practice you already have dinner cooking which he can’t deny he’s come to enjoy. When he’s away, he feels safe that his home isn’t going into complete disarray or collecting dust because you’re there. And when he comes home, he loves that the apartment is nearly spotless.

By now, he almost considers your germs his own. He doesn’t mind sitting near you eating dinner, or next to each other on the couch. In fact, he finds he rather enjoys your presence. But lately, the two of you have been sitting closer on the couch and table, and when he’s gone, he actually misses you, which he will never admit. Coming home to a clean apartment and even you just popping your head into the hallway to greet him before retreating to your room is enough for him.

His growing problem is that he isn’t sure if it’s enough anymore. And it became terribly clear to him when you came to one of his games for the first time.

After the game you waited for him outside the locker room, feeling a little out of place even though Sakusa gave you a VIP pass to be allowed back here. When he emerges, he finds you swarmed by his teammates, politely indulging them and telling them you’re just waiting for someone. It makes his skin prickle in the same way it does when people touch him unprompted. Even worse, Atsumu is far too close to you for his comfort.

You seem fine though, brightly greeting him when he approaches, much to the shock of his teammates.

“What’s a pretty girl doin’ knowing our ‘Omi, hey?” Atsumu drawls, sending a sly smile your way as Sakusa frowns at the nickname.

Before you can open your mouth, amused by the nickname you’ve never heard before, Sakusa interjects, “She’s my roommate.” Rendering the rest of them speechless (which is quite the feat), he takes you gently by the arm so the two of you can leave. Two things shock them: that Sakusa has a roommate and that he touched you.

“They aren’t so bad,” you grin up at him as he scowls, the two of you heading down the hallway towards the exit.

“You don’t have to spend hours on end with them.”

You shrug, knowing Sakusa is a man of unique circumstances when it comes to other people. A thought that makes you stop in your tracks, your hand shooting out to grip his arm to stop him, surprising him enough that he doesn’t recoil from your touch. “We should go this way,” you say, pointing down a different hallway.

He just looks at you, then down at your hand still wrapped around his forearm which you quickly snatch away. “Why? This way will be closer to the car.”

“I came by this way earlier and there was a group of your fans waiting for you,” you grimace. “I’d guess they’re probably still there.”

He frowns, grumbling to himself, but starting towards the hallway you pointed out. He’d very much like to avoid that situation if possible. The two of you make it out unscathed and un-swarmed by his avid fans, and on the way out to the car he can’t help thinking how much he appreciates how considerate you are. Anyone else would have told him he’s being ridiculous and to meet his fans. Not you, however. You always take his feelings into account.

That was weeks ago now. And none of his teammates have let it go since.

For you, when you first moved in, you swore to yourself you’d never fall for him. Not even after you accidentally walked in on him working out in his home gym, his lean and muscular arms out on display, a thin sheen of sweat dampening his dark curls—you nearly combusted. You forced yourself to put it out of your mind, because how could you fall for him? His annoyingly attractive face on billboards haunts you everywhere you go, and he was a stand-offish and a little neurotic for months. But as time as passed, he grew on you.

You now find his need for cleanliness endearing. Particularly now that he’s seemingly accepted you into his ‘bubble’. You’ll never forget the moment he touched you for the first time of his own accord. It was simple, nothing to think anything of really, but for him it was a big deal. It was just a brief touch on the shoulder while you were washing dishes thanking you for dinner. Afterwards, you took note of every time he touched you. One that stands out the most was when he wanted to escape his teammates at the very first game of his you attended. It was firmer, more of a silent plea from him that stunned you.

Really, you could be perfectly happy living like this. Except that your thoughts wander to him far too often now. Especially when he’s gone. It feels weird not having him around, scolding you for missing one spot on the counter, or sitting quietly next to you on the couch—you think about him a lot. His silent presence is strangely comforting, and it doesn’t help you watch his games while he’s away.

He is beautiful to watch. To the point you can’t even believe you live with him. Your efforts to keep your feelings in check were futile. You get so riled up that recently you’ve begun tiding yourself over to the thought of him. At first, you felt pretty ridiculous, especially since it’s hard to imagine him wanting to be…dirty like that, but eventually you just let your imagination run wild. You let yourself believe that with you, he’d be different.

It’s become a habit now while he’s gone. You know it’s awful. Yet you can’t stop yourself. Not when you haven’t been with someone since moving in with Sakusa. At first it was because you didn’t want to piss him off by bringing some stranger into the apartment. But now, you don’t even think you could. Not when you know you’ll only think about him the entire time.

He left only yesterday for his away game, but you’re already missing him. Already foolishly letting your thoughts wander into darker territory that you keep locked up tight when he’s around. His game is tomorrow, so you take the opportunity while you’re almost one-hundred percent certain he won’t come home early. On several occasions he’s come back a day early, but never before a game. Always after.

Your new favorite spot is the shower. Mostly because you can imagine him maybe letting loose a bit while the two of you are actively being cleaned in the process. Once you’ve stripped and the warm water is cascading down your back, it’s easy to imagine him.

You’ve pictured him so many times before that sometimes it really does feel like he’s there. That it’s his hands trailing down your sides, resting your hips, his mouth gently kissing along your neck as his hands move lower. The thought of him towering over you, his curly hair damp from the water, those dark eyes boring into you has you trembling in anticipation.

You’re already soaking when you run a finger between your folds, gripping the tiles when it reaches your clit, wondering what Sakusa’s fingers would feel like instead. Dipping your head, you let out a small, “Kiyoomi,” as you picture him whispering filthy things in your ear.

When Sakusa enters the apartment, he wrinkles his nose under his mask at the slight mess. Though, he supposes he can’t blame you. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another three days. But the other team cancelled unexpectedly, unable to get to the destination due to terrible weather. He hears the shower running in the other room, so he pulls off his mask and gets down to work. He can talk to you about it later.

Though he can’t help imagining you in the shower. Your body freshly clean, water running down your back, between your breasts, and along your legs. His mind gets so clouded by the image that he doesn’t realize he’s been scrubbing the same spot on the counter for a few minutes now. He’s jolted back to reality when he hears a sharp, “Ah!” emit from the bathroom.

He drops his cleaning supplies and quickly strides towards the bathroom thinking you’ve fallen in the shower. The door is slightly open, steam trickling into the hallway, and before he can knock and ask if you’re alright he hears your voice again.

“Oh—Kiyoomi...”

His hand stops mid-air, eyes widening with the realization of what you’ve just said. He pauses for a moment, debating what he should do. He can’t deny he thinks about you more often than he should, and more frequently as of late. And to him, the shower seems like the perfect place. So, he pushes the door open quietly, unzipping his jacket and saying into the silence, “Did you say my name?”

You almost take a tumble into the tub in surprise at hearing his actual voice in the bathroom with you. Close enough to lead you to believe he is in the bathroom. Yanking your fingers out of you, you push back the curtain, intent on yelling at him for intruding on you and scaring the shit out of you, though your voice dies in your throat.

Standing in the middle of the bathroom is Sakusa Kiyoomi, in all his infuriatingly delicious glory, pulling off his shirt and moving to rid himself of his track pants as well. He’s looking at you, deadpan, eyes moving down your body but stopping where the shower curtain is still covering you.

After a moment, you collect your senses, managing to choke out, “Wh—what are you doing?” Just your luck that he came home early at this exact moment and that he heard you. You’d curl up into a ball of embarrassment right now if you weren’t so shocked by his demeanor.

Now that he’s completely unclothed you struggle to keep your eyes above his chest, gripping the curtain harder when he steps forward and says casually, “It was a long flight, I want to take a shower.”

You gape at him. “Right now?!”

He just takes a hold of the curtain, pulling it open slightly so he can step in next to you, and you’re so stunned you make no motion to stop him. And now you’re finding him towering over you in the small space of the shower, so close you can hardly breathe. All the air gets punched out of your lungs when his large hand rests on your hip, turning you so your back is facing him so he can lean down at tease in your ear, “You asked me to come in here, after all.”

All of the heat leaves your body, pooling directly between your legs at his tone. He wastes no time, lathering his hands up with soap and running them along your sides before reaching forward to cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs roaming aimlessly along your nipples, the soap foaming between his fingers.

“Were you thinking about me in the shower?” He asks, his tone dropping into something dark and dangerous. “Such a filthy girl.” He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger making your knees tremble and the growing need between your legs even worse.

“Sa—Sakusa,” you moan, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, getting the full view of his hungry eyes boring into you.

He frowns, pinching your nipples slightly harder, reprimanding, “That isn’t what you called me earlier.”

You writhe in his embrace, gripping his arms, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him as you correct yourself. “Kiyoomi.” He smirks at you, relenting on your nipples as reward, though continuing his soft ministrations.

You can’t help your ass arching backwards, coming into contact with his hardening member, giving him a bit of his own medicine as you grind against him. He hisses through his teeth, admonishing, “What a needy slut.”

“Fuck,” you mewl, pressing against him even harder. You can’t explain what his voice saying those things is doing to you—all you know is you need him to fucking touch you already. “Please, Kiyoomi,” you beg, lifting your arms up and around his neck behind you, your fingers twining into his wet hair. “Make a fucking mess of me.”

He groans deep in his throat, rutting up against your behind and wrapping one strong arm around your middle while the other trails towards the apex of your thighs. “Is that what you want? To be my dirty little slut?” Your fingers grip his hair even tighter, nodding embarrassingly quickly, standing up on your tiptoes to get his hand any closer to where you desperately need him.

Once his fingers reach your core, sliding up through the slick gathered between your legs and towards your clit; your knees nearly give out from under you. If it wasn’t for his arm around you keeping you up, you would have sunk to the floor at the sheer pleasure that sweeps through your body. His fingers are infinitely better than yours and having his solid frame and prominent hard-on pressing behind you almost sends you through the roof.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks quietly against the skin of your neck, his hips grinding up against your ass, which you gladly return with pressure of your own.

“Yes—yes,” you say, gasping when sinks a finger knuckle deep into your heat, quickly adding another and praising you for how well you’re taking it. He watches the space where his fingers are disappearing into you with a sinful expression, enjoying intensely how you’re practically shoving yourself onto his fingers.

“What a good girl,” he whispers, setting your skin on fire, wanting nothing more than to keep being exactly that for him. He smiles devilishly, in a way you would have never imagined he could in your wildest dreams. An almost savage glint in his eyes as he presses harshly on your clit, eliciting a choked sob out of you, and making you dig your nails into the arm wrapped around you.

“Please—,” you say, head lolling on his shoulder allowing him to finally kiss you fully. Surprising you as his tongue slides into your mouth, his fingers relentless, his free arm now helping you drive his fingers even deeper. Voice coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his cock twitch, you plead, “God—Kiyoomi, please!”

“Use your words.”

Thoughts far too hazy to be any sort of embarrassed you hold his dark gaze. “Fuck me.”

Suddenly, his fingers are out of you and he’s bending you over, the head of his cock pressing into your dripping entrance before he sheathes himself completely in you, a hiss escaping him. His head drops to rest his forehead on your shoulder, droplets from his wet hair sliding down your chest as he composes himself from how fucking amazing you feel around him.

“Fuck,” he moans, the closest he’s come to breaking his resolve from just fucking you within an inch of your life. “So tight for such a needy slut,” he grits out, hands resting on your hips as he pulls out only to thrust into you again. His fingers dig into your hips to slam your ass into his, increasing his pace to the point you can barely see straight. Your own fingers scrabble for any sort of purchase on the tiles in front of you, desperately attempting to ground yourself against his brutal pace.

“You feel so fucking good,” you praise, earning you his hand reaching down to lift your leg onto the edge of the tub allowing him to sink even deeper into you.

The lewd sound of skin slapping together, the two of you panting and murmuring nonsense to each other, and the shower continuing to run fills the space as he continues to pound ruthlessly into you is all you’ve ever dreamed about. As he litters kisses and soft bites along your spine, the pressure in your stomach builds and builds, and before it bursts you gasp, “Oh my god—Kiyoomi.”

He notices your body starting to tense up, your back arching and fingers twitching as your orgasm comes hurtling towards you. Taking the opportunity, he pulls your body up, your back flush against his chest, hips never faltering and fingers finding your clit to bring you even closer to release.

“Cum for me,” he orders, voice so cold you feel a little embarrassed by how much it turns you on. But you know that’s just how he sounds sometimes and he’s probably playing it up a bit for you. “Cum on my cock like the good little slut you are.”

That sends you tumbling over the edge, your entire body convulsing as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins, prolonged by him continuing to plunge into you. The sensation is so overwhelming you start writhing in his grip, attempting to ride it out while he holds you firmly against him restricting your movement.

He can’t hold it back much longer, your walls clamping down around him nearly made him cum on the spot, but he holds you through your orgasm, forcing you to endure the full brunt of it while he continues fucking you. Though your body relaxing against his, your fingers winding into his hair, and your voice asking him so politely to cum for you makes him lose it. He grips your hips tightly, jackhammering into you chasing his release. Eventually his hips still, thighs shuddering as he concentrates on keeping the both of you standing while he cums.

The two of you stand there in silence, water still running, as his forehead rests on your back, both of your chests heaving at the exertion you just expended. Your heart is thundering against your chest, unsure what to say and hoping he’ll say something first. He groans, relinquishing your hips from his death grip and pulling his softening cock out of you.

You really shouldn’t have been surprised by what he says first.

“We should rinse off,” he suggests, despite the fact he’s still leaning on your back, hands now resting harmlessly on your hips.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching for the soap and moving out of his grasp. He just stands there watching you, the water streaming onto his back, a completely passive expression on his face. If it was anyone else, they might have interpreted it as boredom or that he’s uninterested but to you—he just looks content.

You motion for him to turn around and start lathering the soap along his back, relishing the free chance to roam your hands all over his incredibly built body. Peering around his shoulder, you find him with his eyes closed, the smallest smile curving his lips as he enjoys your hands massaging his back. You smile to yourself, moving on to find his shampoo and gently scrubbing it into his hair, tucking the small pleased groan he makes into the back of your brain to remember later.

After a few quiet moments he says, “The apartment’s a mess.”

That makes you frown, a sour expression adorning your face. Poking his side, you reply, “Well, you weren’t supposed to be home for another three days!” He turns around, washing the soap off his back and out of his hair while you take no time to start exploring the expanse of his chest with your soapy fingers. When he opens his eyes, looking down at you, you pout. “Can’t we leave it for tomorrow?”

As much as he dislikes that, he can’t help but agree, finding the prospect of curling up in bed with you much more enticing.

Once he’s finished, he returns the favor washing your body, and the both of you step out of the shower to dry off. You pull on the pajama’s you’d left in here for after your shower that you thought you’d be taking alone while he simply wraps the towel around his waist, making it almost impossible not to stare at him as he waits for you.

You’re surprised when he leads you to his bedroom, changing into pajama’s of his own as you slide under the covers. They smell like detergent and the faint scent of Sakusa’s body wash, wrapping around you pleasantly—you take an indulgent breath, letting the scent soak into your senses. It gets even better when he joins you, hand resting on your bare arm, fingers drawing small circles against your skin. He gives you a soft kiss to the forehead, enjoying your freshly showered body against his beneath the sheets and your fingers in his hair.

“You know I honestly didn’t think you knew how to kiss,” you joke, tapping his chin, “With the mask and all.”

He peers down at you, the subtlest glint in his eyes as he replies, “Have I changed your mind?”

Your resulting cheeky smile makes his pants feel a little tight. “I think you might need to show me again.”

#haikyuu x reader #Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader #Sakusa x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #sakusa scenario #sakusa imagine #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi scenario #sakusa kiyoomi imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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katatonicimpression · 2 years

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Thoughts about the Iceman mini series a few weeks on:

I'm surprised by how positive I still feel about it. I was expecting my enthusiasm to be at least 70% "new content finally omg" and fade a lot over time, but actually I still feel really good about it.

Thinking about what other people have said:

A lot of the backlash I've seen is from people who just really don't vibe with the art style which is a) completely valid but b) not really a complaint I care about. Like, for instance, I can't watch Rick and Morty - the animation makes me feel physically ill idk it's so off-putting - but I couldn't use that as an argument for or against the overall quality of the show. It's not bad necessarily - it's just a style I don't like. It's just one of those things.

I've seen some people complain about the Romeo thing, and tbh I really don't care. Some people have made it out to be problematic, but I don't buy into that, which I've talked about elsewhere. And I've also seen some people complain that Romeo isn't really an independent character and it's bad for that reason. This is funny to me because Bobby's last love interest was Christian and that was the biggest non-event let's be real.

It's fine if Bobby goes on dates with a side character. Like, I cannot stress enough how much it is not a problem that he has a random love interest that isn't a pre-existing major character. And it's weird to see people suggesting "fixes" to this that are just ludicrous ideas narrative-wise? Maybe people need to stop viewing characters' relationships as their assigned endgame ship, and instead see this storylines as what they are. i.e. stories.

Some negatives:

I think my biggest worry about this in general has nothing to do with the mini-series itself, and has more to do with Duggan, and Bobby's writing outside of his solo appearences.

I can't imagine anything from this series being revisited or continued by Duggan in a way that isn't just plain awful. I think Vecchio's done a good job of filling in the void left by Marauders, but what good does that do if he spends another few years in limbo? I can appreciate the series as its own, standalone thing. But still - I have very low expectations going forward.

The global warming thing is a funny thing to bring up, but idk maybe it would be funnier as a tweet. I do like the ever present implication that 616 earth just has way worse pollution and eco damage than the real world, and that's why the Storm and Bobby can't fix everything. Maybe whatever Tony Stark is up to is just environmental poison. Maybe the human torch's carbon footprint really is that bad.

Another thing I've thought of is that there are aspects of Bobby's character that didn't get explored here and maybe could have been. Bobby's dad is Catholic, and his mum is Jewish. This didn't get brought up in this comic at all, and it's not like it had to be, but like. Ok, so the way I interpret it is that the mixed nature of Bobby's heritage is less about his own beliefs and lifestyle (you never get the impression he's particularly religious in the first place, or that he has any angst about fusing the two different cultural traditions), but more about the way he feels inadequate and out-of-place. Like, he's got all these insecurities and imposter syndrome, and his childhood experience of "I don't belong anywhere" is a part of that. I bring it up because THIS IS TOTALLY RELEVANT to the themes of this series and could have fit in seamlessly.

Some positives:

Related to the last thing, I did really appreciate how the series directly confronts the "living up to your potential" thing and calls it out as a false and harmful way of understanding his life. Yes, this was the original unsubtle theme of the 90s storyline, but seeing as Duggan seems to not understand it, it's worth repeating it. Bobby does belong, he's not an imposter. I really appreciate this.

I also think Vecchio is good at handling the omega mutant thing. Like, ok so if you're writing Storm or Magneto or whoever, you know that it's never a question of whether or not they can do The Impressive Thing with their powers. It's a matter of when and how, and what their internal journey is like. This is not super complicated by hey, Duggan struggles with it so I guess it's worth spelling out. It's not inherently impressive or interesting for Bobby to get really big, or survive an injury, or freeze a lot of stuff. And it's weird for him to brag about it when he does. It's about putting something creative on the page, and about feeling feelings.

I loved the bit about being distant from humanity. That was on point for the character.

He should get to keep the facial hair.

He's being drawn too blue in other comics. Vecchio goes for mostly white with blue accents and that's fine, but not the only way of doing things. There are tons of good blue Icemen out there. But he shouldn't be looking like Dr. Manhattan. Just move that cursor up a little bit on the old colour diamond. Please. For me.

#i love how much of this is just me complaining about one man #you know who #iceman (2022)

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hockey-fics · 3 years

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Couples Trip - Nathan MacKinnon and Tyson Jost

Summary: What was supposed to be a cute couples trip takes a turn when Tyson ends up being the third wheel on the trip with you and Nathan.

Word Count: ~8.5k

Warnings: smut (that’s pretty much all it is, tbh)

A/N: lord forgive me for this one, please.

A couples trip. Booked, admittedly, too far in advance. But it hadn’t concerned you at the time. Because you were practically engaged to Nathan at this point. It had to have been the most common joke thrown out around you two, ‘no ring on your finger, yet?’.

But for Tyson. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so quick to say yes to the prospect of a couples trip. Because three months before the trip he ended his relationship with the girl he was planning to take.

And neither you or Nate knew how to start the conversation about the trip with him because every approach felt just a little too insensitive. So you both just hoped he would bring it up himself. And when Nate would get home from practice or hanging out with the guys you would ask him if it had come up yet, only to be given the same answer ‘not yet’.

Before you knew it the trip was only a week away and nobody had so much as mentioned it to Tyson. You knew he had moved on, had seen him recover from the brief heartbreak. After it had happened you had him over for dinner, you and Nate tiptoeing around the line of ‘do you want to talk about it’ vs ‘try to cheer him up’. But you had seen his mood improve since then, back to the same old Tyson cracking jokes every time you saw him.

“You have to talk to him today,” you remind Nate as he was heading out the door to meet up with a few of the guys. The season had just ended and most of them were still in town, some getting ready to go spend the summer back with their families.

“I know,” Nate groans in a way that says ‘I wish you could just do it for me’. Because you knew that Nate actually had a hard time dealing with difficult topics, especially when there was the potential of upsetting a friend.

“You got it,” you tell him, fingers crawling up his chest till they slide around the back of his neck. Lean up you bring your lips closer to him, his hand sliding around your lower back. “Think about all the fun we’re going to have.”

Nate lets out a heavy breath, lips curling into a smirk. “Yeah, I definitely need to talk to him,” Nate chuckles, pressing his lips to yours quickly before stepping back through the door. “See you later.”

“Love you,” you call, giggling as you watch him walk to his car.

“Love you too,” he calls, unlocking his car and hoping in while you close the door.

You spend most of the morning planning what you were going to bring for the trip. Sure, it was a little early to be packing but you had already established all your life that you planned things out too far in advance. You needed to find out now if there was anything you needed to go and buy before you were an hour an a half away from the closest town in a beautiful cabin by a lake. Laying out a few lingerie sets on the bed you contemplate how many would be too many to bring on a one week trip.

“I’m home,” you hear Nate’s voice call through the house.

“Bedroom,” you reply, stepping back and gazing over the clothes you had spread out on the bed. “How much room in the car will we have for clothes?” You ask Nate as he steps into the room.

His eyes fall to the lacy red lingerie set on the bed before looking back to you. “For that? As much room as you need,” he chuckles, moving a couple piles of your clothes to the side to be able to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“How’d it go with Tyson?” You ask, carefully folding some of the clothes and placing them on the open suitcase sitting at the end of the bed.

“I..uh, well,” Nate begins, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Stopping what you’re doing you turn your focus to him. “Don’t tell me you didn’t say anything,” you whine, rolling your eyes.

“No, no, I did,” Nate defends quickly, reaching over and grabbing your hips. “Just keep an open mind,” he begins, tugging you between his legs as you rest your hands on his shoulders. “He’s um, he’s still going to come.”

You stare down at Nate in silence for a couple seconds. “With who?”

“Nobody.”

“We’re…we’re going on a couple’s trip with your friend?”

“I know it sounds weird, but you should have seen how sad he seemed, I couldn’t not at least offer. I thought he would say no but he said it sounded fun and I couldn’t tell him I was just offering to be nice.”

Sighing you run your fingers through his hair, leaning down and kissing him gently. “Breaking bad news is officially my role in this relationship.”

“I’m totally fine with that.”

A week later you were in the passenger’s seat of Nate’s car, almost at the cabin. Tyson was leaving a few hours later so you and Nate got up early to have a few hours alone. It was a beautiful day, sun shining bright and warm into the car. You had been blasting music, singing along to the variety of songs playing through the speakers.

Finally at the cabin you pull only the necessities out of the car, hurrying inside to explore the cabin. And it was nicer than you could have imagined. Four bedrooms, a massive open kitchen right next to an almost ridiculously large living room. One entire wall of the living room was windows and a glass door onto a patio overlooking the lake with a large hot tub.

“It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, jumping in surprise as Nate sneaks up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Let’s go find the bedroom,” he mutters in your ear, holding onto you tight.

Giggling you wiggle around in his arms, leaning up and kissing him gently. “Good plan.”

You let Nate guide you down the hallway, watching him evaluate each other bedrooms till finding the one with the best view over the lake. “Shouldn’t we give this one to Tyson? Since he has to be here on his own?”

Nate chuckles, reaching over and pushing door shut. “Absolutely not. He’s only paying one third of the stay, we get the best room. He can have three for himself.”

You knew when it was planned that Tyson had agreed to pay half of the rent for cabin, Nate hadn’t told you about the change in plans. “That’s sweet of you,” you whisper, feeling your upper back hit the closed door as Nate pushes you against it.

His lips travel down to your jaw and then your neck, making his way down your bare skin slowly. Your fingers slide into his hair, head tipped back against the solid wooden door behind your body. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling every single little sensation as Nate unbuttons the buttons down the front of your shirt, letting it slide down your arms.

“Fuck, I love this one,” Nate mutter, running his fingers along the band of lace around your ribcage.

“I know,” you whisper, looking over at him, watching his eyes meet yours, dark and full of lust. You were pretty sure a big reason he loved it so much as because he bought it for you before a particularly long road trip and you had sent him pictures in it.

He grasps at your waist, pulling you away from the wall and spinning you around, walking you over to the large bed and pushing you down onto it gently. Your hands grasp at Nate’s arms, legs circling around his hips as Nate leans down, kissing you rough and fast. His lips graze your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan. Travelling down to your chest Nate leaves a trail of sloppy kisses from your collarbone to the top of bra. Leaning back Nate moves his hands to your jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them off while you lift your hips for him. He yanks his own shirt off a moment later, with much less care.

Lowering himself onto his knees Nate presses soft kisses to your leg, beginning at your inner knee and trailing slowly up your inner thigh. He pauses around the lacy fabric of your underwear, eyes staring up at you, watching your chest rising and falling quicker. He moves back up to your chest, reaching around behind your back to unhook your bra while you push yourself to sit up. “You’re so goddamn hot,” Nate murmurs, leaning down to press his lips to yours while the straps of your bra slide down your arms.

You kiss him back, full of passion and desperation. Because each time you got to this point with Nate you became a mess in front of him, needing him to touch you, your body taking over all control with him. “Nate,” you whimper as his hand trails slowly up your inner thigh.

Nate looks down at you with a smirk, lowering you down onto your back again. “We don’t have to rush it, sweetheart, we have the whole place to ourself this afternoon.”

You let out a quiet whine, squirming below his slow, gentle touch. “Fuck, please, just touch me,” you exclaim.

Nate slowly brings his fingers over your the lacy red underwear you were wearing. “You’re so wet for me already,” he comments, rubbing gentle circles over the damp fabric.

“I know,” you cry out, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Nate hooks his fingers around your underwear, pulling them down your legs and letting them fall to the ground while he brings one of your legs over his shoulders, kneeling in front of the bed. Placing kisses down your inner thigh he runs his tongue along your folds, stopping when he gets to your clit, tongue brushing gentle circles that make your hands clench at the blankets on the bed below you. “Oh, fuck,” you moan as he finds a rhythm that makes your chest rise and fall fast, that makes your hands clench tighter.

“I-I’m almost there,” you gasp as Nate continue with the pattern that builds you closer to your high. He keeps going, knowing exactly what you needed, till you’re falling apart and he works you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, Nate,” you whimper, gently pushing him away from you. Your cheeks and chest were flushed and Nathan moves back up your body, kissing you gently. Reaching up you fumble with the buttons of his jeans, lips frantically kissing him back as you attempt to get his jeans off. Pulling back just enough Nathan pushes his jeans off, already hard and straining against his boxers. His boxers come off a moment later and you grab his hands, pulling him down back on top of you. “I need you inside me,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.

Nathan lets out a low groan in response to your words. He has one hand propping himself up, the other reaching down to grab one of your thighs, pulling your leg up and around his hip. “Okay?” Nate asks and you nod quickly. Nate moves his hand to wrap around himself, slowly and gently pushing inside of you. It takes a moment to adjust to the sensation, fingers clutching hard at his biceps while you wrap your legs around his hips.

Nathan presses his hips into yours, picking up the speed as your quiet moans increase. “Oh my god,” you whimper as Nate slides a hand between your bodies, fingers finding your already sensitive clit, your back arching off the bed in response. He runs gentle circles over your clit while thrusting into you with a steady rhythm. It doesn’t take long till your falling apart underneath him again, fingernails digging into Nate’s back as he reaches his climax a minute later.

You’re breathing heavy as Nathan pulls out of you, his hands on the backs of your legs as he stands up beside the bed, watching his cum dripping out of you with lust filled eyes. “Fuck,” he groans, large hands running along your legs till he gently sets them down onto the ground. “I’ll be right back,” he assures you as if you ever imagined he wouldn’t be. A moment later Nate returns with a damp cloth, cleaning up the mess between your legs before helping you to your feet.

After a trip to the bathroom and changing into a pair of shorts and one of Nate’s shirts for the rest of the evening you two head out to drag the rest of your belongings in from the car. By the time Tyson arrived you and Nate were in the kitchen, a couple glasses of wine deep, making dinner.

“Hey,” you cheer as he walks through the door. You were a little tipsy and still blissed out from your afternoon with Nate that you weren’t even bothered by having a third wheel showing up.

“Hey,” Tyson replies, chuckling when he notices the half empty wine glass in your hand. “How was the afternoon?”

“Really good,” you tell him, hearing Nate chuckle from behind you as he chops up a sweet potato.

“Have you guys checked out the beach yet? It’s too dark to actually see it now,” Tyson asks, dropping his bags onto the ground.

“Not yet,” you admit, realizing you wouldn’t have an answer if Tyson turned the question into ‘so what did you do?’

“We’ll have to do that tomorrow,” Nate chimes in, glancing over his shoulder as he sets his knife down. “Do you need help bringing stuff in?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Tyson shrugs off, heading back outside to bring more stuff in from his car.

“Did you want to just outright tell him we spent the afternoon fucking, or?” Nathan teases, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Giggling you clutch at his arms, glancing up over your shoulder at him. “Go back to cutting up your sweet potatoes,” you tell him, playfully pushing his arms off of you.

Once Tyson had brought all his stuff in and dinner was made the three of you settle down to eat dinner around the kitchen table, making casual conversation. But it felt a little tense, a little awkward.

That was until a third bottle of wine had been opened and you were all sitting around the kitchen playing cards against humanity. It was a fun game in itself but add a good level of wine drunk to it and it became a fantastic way to break the awkwardness that the trip had turned into.

By the end of the night you were a giggling, drunk mess. After saying goodnight to Tyson you and Nate make your way back to your room where you fall asleep in Nate’s arms quicker than you had fallen asleep in a long time.

The next morning your eyes open to early morning light pouring through the big windows in your bedroom, Nate’s arm securely fastened around your waist. It’s still early in the day. You can tell by the soft morning light, filtering through the trees in the forest around the cabin, by the slight chill still hanging in the air. You stay there, in the moment, taking it all in till you finally need to pull yourself away from Nate’s warm grasp to go to the bathroom.

After washing your face, brushing your hair and teeth you head back into the bedroom, finding Nate half awake, leaning against the headboard of the bed, shirtless, and staring over at you with a love-struck grin. “Hi,” you giggle, walking over and hoping onto the bed, crawling into Nate’s lap, hands running along his large shoulders.

“Morning, beautiful,” he hums, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Feeling okay? I think you took down a full bottle of wine by yourself last night.”

Rolling your eyes you lean forward, Nate wrapping his arms tight around your waist. “I’m actually not too bad, probably helps that we went to bed at like ten-thirty last night,” you laugh. “I mean, I would have stayed up longer, but you’re such a boring old man now,” you tease.

Nate pushes himself over, rolling you over onto his back, a shriek of surprise leaving your lips as he pins you down underneath him. “Me? Do you need me to remind you that I almost had to carry your drunk ass to bed last night.”

Laughing you roll your eyes, shaking your head. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m not. In fact, I think you should make us breakfast as a thank you for taking you to bed last night,” Nate chuckles, clearly joking, he never would actually want anything in return for doing things for you.

Giggling you push Nate off of you, hoping up out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants and one of Nate’s hoodies, the air in the cabin still a little chilly.

“How do you look so cute like this?” Nate asks, staring down at you in clothes that just hang over your body loosely.

“You’re just being nice so that that I’ll make you breakfast,” you retort, walking through the bedroom door and towards the kitchen.

Nate follows after you, arms circling around your waist and scooping you off the ground. “Not true, you’re just always so cute,” he comments, making you laugh.

When Nate sets you down your eyes find Tyson, sitting at the kitchen table in the cabin on his laptop with a cup of coffee beside him. You slowly pull away from Nate, feeling a little guilty. “Good morning,” you call to him, walking to the kitchen and pulling the carton of eggs out of the fridge.

“Morning,” he replies, turning away from his laptop. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, turning the stove on and setting a frying pan onto the element. “I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Neither of us believe that,” Nate comments, sitting down on a barstool on the other side of the counter you were standing at.

“Believe what you want, when I have to get really drunk sometime this week to prove you both wrong then that’ll be your fault,” you comment. “How many eggs do you two want?” You ask, changing the subject.

After breakfast you three head down to the lake even though it was still too cold to even consider getting into the water. But the three of you needed something to do so you found yourself down on the beach fully clothed in a pair of jeans, a sweater, and sneakers, throwing pebbles into the silent, still water.

“You’re letting go of them too late.”

Glancing over at Tyson you stare at him in silence, his words not registering in your brain. “What?”

“When you throw the rocks you’re letting go of them too late, that’s why they don’t go as far,” he explains.

“Oh,” you hum, reaching down to pick up another pebble from among the sand. This time you make a note to let go sooner, resulting in throwing the pebble so high it doesn’t even make it to the water.

Tyson laughs, shaking his head as he picks up a pebble. “Like this,” he comments, demonstrating throwing a pebble, though you’re pretty sure it was just to show off how much further he could throw them than you.

Picking up a few more rocks you try another time.

“That was better, little sooner this time.”

Groaning dramatically you throw your head back. “Okay, coach.” Throwing the other pebble in your hand you watch it hit the water further than any of the last ones, a huge smile spreading on your face. “Oh my god. Did you see that one?” You exclaim, Tyson hurrying to your side, receiving a double-handed high five from him.

“That was so good,” he laughs, his hands folding over yours a moment later.

Your smile fades slightly as a tension builds between you two, your hands folded together in front of you. Slowly pulling back you let out a tense breath of laughter. “Maybe I should join a softball team or something.”

“I mean, don’t know if it was that good,” Tyson jokes, finding a flat rock and skipping it across the surface of the water.

Glancing over you notice Nate sitting on a bench around the campfire ring a few feet up the beach, watching you and Tyson. Smiling softly you walk up and drop down beside him, your head on his shoulder. “Will you build me a fire?”

Nate chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Of course, I’d build you anything.”

“A house?”

“Sure.”

Looking up at Nathan you shake your head, leaning over and kissing him gently. “I love you, but I wouldn’t trust a house you built.”

“What about a house Tyson built?” Nate asks and you furrow your eyebrows, glancing down the beach to where Tyson was still throwing pebbles into the lake. It seemed like an off the cuff question and you weren’t sure why Nate would even ask you that.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh, looking back up at Nate.

“Good,” Nate chuckles, pulling you somehow even closer to him.

A few hours later you were in the cabin, curled up on the couch in the common room, watching Nate and Tyson play ping pong. You couldn’t help but be amused at how competitive they were being over a game of ping pong.

Eventually you grow a little bored and restless, pushing yourself off the couch and heading up to the bedroom. Pulling open your suitcase you pull out a dark green lingerie set, sitting on the edge of the bed as you contemplate whether you really should pull Nate away from hanging out with his friend. But it doesn’t take long before you’re out of your clothes and in nothing but the tiniest lingerie set you had brought.

“Nate, can you come here for a second? I need some help with something,” you call from the bedroom, hoping he would hear you. While you wait for Nate you walk to the mirror on the other side of the room, fixing your hair and the straps of the bra you were wearing.

Hearing the door being pushed open you bite down on your bottom lip, tousling your hair again as you pretend you don’t notice, letting him get a good look at your ass before turning around.

When you turn around you freeze in shock, staring at an equally frozen in shock Tyson. “Fuck…I’m so sorry,” Tyson exclaims. “Nate’s on the phone…I thought, I thought you needed help with something.”

“Not real help,” you exclaim, watching as Tyson’s eyes jump back and forth between you and various other locations in the room, trying to seem like he wasn’t taking in the sight of you in the lingerie. “Tyson,” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to leave…or?”

“Shit,” Tyson mutters, very clearly flustered. “Yeah, I’m so sorry.” You watch him turn around to leave the room, hesitating and glancing back at you. “Are you going to tell Nate about this?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, just go,” you state again, watching him scurry out of the room and close the door behind him.

Sighing to yourself you change back out of the lingerie, no longer in the mood to do anything that involved lingerie. Quickly you slip from the bedroom, finding Nate on the couch talking to someone on the phone. A few minutes later he hangs up as you sit down beside him.

“Sorry, my mom called to say hi, she forgot we were on this trip,” he explains, his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Did you need me for something?”

“Uh,” you hum, realizing Tyson wasn’t in the room, wondering where he had disappeared to. “No, all good. Everything good with your mom?”

“Yeah, she said to say hi to you,” he tells you. “Did you see Tyson? He went upstairs when you called for help.”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. “Maybe he went to his room or the kitchen or something,” you ramble, trying to remain casual despite the fact that you could feel your heart racing, mind flashing back to the way Tyson’s eyes were scanning over your almost naked body.

“Okay,” Nathan draws the word out, chuckling uncertainly at the way your voice had risen a few octaves. “Wanna play?” Nate suggests, gesturing to the ping pong table.

Laughing you nod, hopping up off the couch and heading to the ping pong table in the middle of the room. The first few minutes Nate is very clearly taking it easy on you, till his competitive edge kicks in and he’s swinging the paddle harder and quicker while you try to remain composed. But before you know it you’re laughing, making quips at Nate about his intensity, having to stop every few minutes to retrieve the ping pong ball from the ground.

“You’re such an asshole, don’t you know you’re supposed to let your girlfriend win sometimes?” You laugh as you lean down, picking up the ping pong ball that had rolled halfway across the room. When you stand back up you notice Tyson hesitantly walking into the room, sheepish and tense. “Hey,” you say to him, trying to break up the tension before Nate noticed.

“Hey,” he replies, leaning against the wall to watch the game of ping pong you and Nathan were playing.

“Here,” Nathan says, handing Tyson his ping pong paddle. “You’re probably a better skill level match for Y/N,” he comments, a playful jab at both of you.

Scoffing you roll your eyes, serving the ball once Tyson had taken his spot on the other side of the table. And you can’t help but notice how different Tyson was playing now that you were on the other side of the table, the way he was so gently hitting the ball back towards you. “You don’t have to go easy on me,” you giggle.

“Kinda sounds like that’s how you wanted it,” Tyson replies in reference to your comment to Nathan when he was walking in the room.

“Never,” you retort, not realizing how it was coming across till Nate is staring at you with a newfound intensity and Tyson misses his next swing, the ball bouncing across the room.

“Should we go make dinner?” Nathan asks suddenly, walking over and taking the ping pong paddle out of you hand, tossing it down loudly onto the table.

Nodding you step towards the doorway, glancing back at Tyson. “Any requests?”

Tyson nods, nervously fidgeting with the ping pong ball he had picked up. “Anything you make will be great.”

Up in the kitchen you open the fridge, looking through your options till Nate is behind you, arms around your waist, pulling you back and closing the fridge door. Quickly he spins you around, lifting you up onto the counter and pushing himself between your legs. His hands are on your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge as he leans over, kissing you quick and hard. One hand lands on the back of his neck, the other draped over his shoulder as you kiss him back.

“Nate,” you whisper, pulling back a little. “What’s going on with you?” you giggle.

“What do you mean? Nothing.” Nate slides his hand around to your hip, fingers slipping up under your t-shirt to brush against your bare skin right above the waistband of your leggings.

Rolling your eyes you lean down, lips hovering over his. “Well I’m not complaining,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his again. He responds quickly, hands roaming your body eagerly, lips quick and forceful against yours.

A few minutes later you feel a presence, pulling back and seeing Tyson standing in the doorway, eyes locked on you and Nate. You gently push Nate away from you, your breathing heavy, cheeks flushed. “H-Hi,” you stammer, sliding off the counter. “Sorry, we haven’t…um, we haven’t started dinner.”

“That’s fine,” Tyson mutters, walking in the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water while you go back to the fridge to figure out what you were making. It was quiet in the kitchen, none of you knowing exactly what to say.

Finally you figure out what to make while Nathan and Tyson finally begin talking, breaking up the tension in the room. Once dinner is finished you all sit down at the table, chatting casually about nothing of importance, nobody addressing the shift in mood that had fallen over the entire trip that day.

“Want to go out to the hot tub?” You ask Nathan as the two of you finish cleaning up after dinner.

“Sure,” Nate says, putting a couple plates away into the cupboard before taking your hand and pulling you to the bedroom.

“Which one?” You ask Nate, pulling your bikini options out of your suitcase and tossing them onto the large bed.

“Red,” Nathan replies quickly, a smirk on his lips.

“If we were here alone I wouldn’t have to wear anything,” you hum, glancing up at Nathan mischievously as you pull your clothes off, tossing them aside. You pretend not to notice Nathan watching you as you put your bikini on.

A few minutes later the two of you head towards the back patio, finding Tyson on the couch in the living room. When he looks up you can’t help but notice the way his eyes trail over your body, the bikini suddenly feeling more revealing than you had ever thought.

“We’re going out to the hot tub,” you tell Tyson quickly, hurrying after Nate who was already on his way out through the back patio door.

He takes your hand when you get closer, helping you step into the hot water, bubbling and steaming against the cool night air. You slide into the water, relaxing against the wall of the hot tub, letting the water soothe all your muscles.

The water was beginning to get a little too hot a few minutes later, leading you to slip from the surface, resting on the edge of the hot tub. “It’s so beautiful and quiet out here,” you comment, glancing around the dark surroundings.

“It is,” Nathan concurs, moving slowly through the water till he was standing between your legs at the side of the hot tub. “Nice being out here all alone,” Nate mumbles, leaning down and pressing his lips to your knee, pushing your legs apart slowly as he moves his lips higher up your inner thigh.

“Kind of,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in Nathan hair as he presses soft kisses along your legs. “Nate, wait, stop,” you mutter, tugging gently at his hair to make him look up at you. “Tyson is in the living room,” you remind him, the living room lights on, illuminated bright against the darkness of the the evening.

“I know,” Nate growls, lips back on your thighs, pushing your legs farther apart. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the way he’s been looking at you? Checking you out when you put on this bikini. Let him watch if that’s what he wants so bad.”

You swallow heavily, nervous eyes glancing from Nate back to Tyson in the living room where he was trying his best to pretend not to be watching. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” You whisper, gasping as Nate pulls your bikini aside, his head between your legs doing a good enough job to hide everything the bikini had been covering. “Fuck,” you whimper as he hooks one arm under your thigh, sliding you closer to the edge of the hot tub as he runs his tongue up your folds. His tongue brushes over your clit and you press your hand into the surface behind you, leaning back as your chest rises and falls heavily. You tug harder at Nate’s hair as he continues to brush his tongue over your clit. Your head falls back, eyes shut as Nathan slides one finger inside of you, curling up just the way he knows drives your crazy. Your quiet moans and whimpers echo in the quiet surroundings, the cool night air hardening your nipples as warmth flushes from your core.

“Fuck, Nate, I’m close,” you gasp, heading tipping forward as your eyes open to look towards Nathan. But as you do your eyes land on Tyson, catching him fully staring now. And it’s too late for him to look away now that you saw him, holding eye contact for a little too long. You’d never done this before, never thought you would be into it. But the way he was watching sends an electric jolt of pleasure through your body. It’s only a moment later before you reach your high, moaning loudly as your fingers curl into the damp surface of the edge of the hot tub, desperate to grasp at something, anything. Once you’ve ridden through your high Nate carefully pulls your bikini back into place, standing up to press his lips to yours. “Gave him a good show,” Nate whispers as he pulls back.

Feeling your cheeks flush you glance over Nathan’s shoulder, eyes meeting Tyson’s for a split second before he looks away, flustered. You can’t stop the slight smile as you look back down at Nate. “We definitely did,” you giggle.

Nathan stares into your eyes for a second, running his hands along your thighs. “You liked that, hey?”

“W-what?” You stammer, cheeks seeming to grow somehow even warmer.

“Tys watching,” Nathan whispers, leaning in and kissing you gently. “You liked it.”

“Kind of,” you admit, grasping at Nate’s damp, warm shoulders.

Nathan leans in, kissing along your jaw and down to your neck. “Maybe we should let him watch...a little closer.”

Swallowing heavily your fingers dig into Nathan’s shoulders, watching as he pulls back to look into your eyes. His finger move to your jaw, slow and gentle as he tips your head to make you look him in the eyes. “Only if you want.”

Nodding you move one hand to his wrist, wrapping around his skin. “I do.”

Nathan pull back, stepping out of the hot tub before taking your hands and helping you out a moment later. Wrapping a towel around you first he grabs the second one for himself, drying himself off roughly and quickly before grabbing your hand and pulling you back into the house.

“Hey,” Tyson mutters, eyes focused on his phone as you two walk through the patio door.

“Hi,” Nate replies, voice nonchalant, as if nothing was off in the slightest. “The hot tub is nice, too bad you didn’t come join us.”

Tyson stares at Nate for a minute, eyes widening a little as he processes what he was insinuating. A moment later Tyson’s eyes are on you, silently trying to ask what was going on, if it was a test. Shrugging you pull your towel from your body, pressing it to the damp skin of your upper arms. Suddenly Nate is behind you, his hand slapping against your ass, the sound of bare skin on skin echoing loud in the quiet room. “Go put on that dark green lingerie you brought and one of my shirts…nothing else,” Nathan whispers in your ear, eyes locked on Tyson who was sitting on the couch, frozen in shock.

Nodding you quickly scurry from the living room, heart hammering with excitement. In the bedroom you quickly find the lingerie Nathan specified, yanking it on as you leave your damp bikini on the bedroom floor. Unzipping Nate’s suitcase you find one of his t-shirts, a plain black shirt that draped over your body loosely. As you turn the corner hurrying back into the living room you run directly into Nathan, clutching at him as you steady yourself.

“Excited for something?” He teases, fingers lifting the bottom of shirt you were wearing, his eyes trailing down to the lace wrapped around your hips.

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyes finding his as you try to figure out exactly what was about to happen. “Should I be?”

“Go wait in the living room for me,” Nathan mutters, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, pulling back to head towards the living room.

Before you make it more than a step away Nathan has his hand around your wrist, tugging you to turn around and face him. “What was that?”

You stare up at him for a second as your mind races till you realize what he was getting at. “Yes, sir,” you reply, a teasing smile on your lips as you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“Good girl.” Letting go of your wrist Nathan heads towards the bedroom while you make your way to the living room.

Tyson looks nervous and uncertain as you walk into the room, sitting up straighter as he watches you sit down on the couch across from him. Both of you are silent, too unsure of what to say, not knowing what the other was thinking.

When Nathan gets back he flops down onto the couch beside you with a level of ease that makes you wonder if you had just made everything that happened in the last twenty minutes up. But when Nate’s hand lands on your bare thigh, fingers inching up your leg, you know you hadn’t made a single thing up. You try to keep your breathing steady as Nate pushes the fabric of the shirt up, his fingers landing on the lace of your panties.

Your eyes meet with Tyson and you watch his gaze fall to Nate’s hand, shifting in his seat. “I think Tyson might want to see what you’re wearing a little closer,” Nathan whispers, eyes flicking over to Tyson.

“Really?” You whisper back, looking up into Nathan’s eyes.

Nodding Nathan leans down, kissing you gently. “Go,” he tells you as he pulls back, nodding towards Tyson.

Slowly you get off the couch, making your way across the living room to where Tyson was sitting. “Hey,” you say softly, standing in front of him uncertainly.

Sitting up and leaning forward Tyson grabs your hips, slowly pulling you closer, waiting for Nate to stop him. When he gets no objection Tyson slides his hands down to the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward to straddle him on the couch. “You two are sure about this?”

Nodding you lean a little closer. “Yes,” you whisper, your lips hovering just above his. You can feel his unsteady breathing against your lips, his hand sliding tentatively towards the lace of your underwear. You feel his fingers slip between your bodies, brushing over your folds through the lace of your underwear. Your breathing is heavier now, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Tyson,” you whisper. “Please-.” You’re cut off by his lips crashing against yours, fast and hard. It’s all tongue and teeth and a flurry of grasping at each other, desperate and needy as he rubs gentle circles over your clit. You break away from his lips, a string of moans escaping your lips. “That feels so good,” you mutter, desperately clutching at the fabric of Tyson’s t-shirt. “Please…please, I want you inside me,” you whimper.

Tyson’s fingers still on your clit, pulling back as he looks across the living room at Nate. “I…I don’t know,” Tyson mutters.

“You should probably give her what she wants,” Nathan says, drawing your attention. Looking over your shoulder at him your eyes fall to his lap, the sweatpants he had changed into not hiding anything.

“Are you sure?” Tyson asks, and it’s obviously a question from both you and him as you stare at Nathan, anxiously awaiting a response.

“Yes,” he replies easily, without a moment of hesitation.

You feel the bottom of the shirt you were wearing being lifted and you look back at Tyson, his hands tugging your shirt up over your head as you lift your arms to let him. “Fuck,” he groans, staring at the delicate lace sitting perfectly over your breasts.

Rolling your hips forward you feel Tyson already hard beneath you. “Your turn,” you whisper.

“Hm?” Tyson mutters, lifting his eyes away from your chest to your eyes.

Giggling you reach down, pulling the fabric of his shirt up. Tyson takes over as you lean back, watching him toss the shirt aside. Your eyes trail over his broad shoulders, hands running up his biceps. “You still have more clothes on than I do,” you tell him.

Tyson chuckles, leaning over and kissing you quickly. “Can’t take them off with you on top of me.”

“I want to be on top,” you whine, fluttering your eyelashes as your hands come to rest on the back of Tyson’s neck.

“I’ll let you,” Tyson hums, hands resting on your waist. “Just-,” he begins, but you’re already sliding off his lap, knees landing gently on soft carpet below you. “Oh, god,” Tyson mutters, staring at you on your knees in front of him. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Giggling you reach up, running your hands over the tops of his thighs, watching his frantic hands unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off as you lean back. He doesn’t hesitate to slide his boxers off at the same time, letting them both pile onto the floor. Reaching over you take his length in your hand, eyes remaining on his as you lean in. You can hear him exhale loudly as your tongue brushes up his length, swirling it around his tip before taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. His hands are in your hair a second later but he’s gentle, careful not to put any pressure on your head as you move down. When he hits the back of your throat you do your best to suppress a gag. You keep your hand on the base of his cock as you bob your head up and down, thick saliva building up and helping the movement of your hand up and down his length when you pull away to catch your breath. Tyson’s hand lands under your jaw, thumb brushing some of the spit from your lips as he tips your head to look up at him. “Come here.” He grabs your hands and gently pulls you to your feet, leaning forward to shimmy your panties down over your hips and letting them fall to the ground. A moment later he’s guiding you back onto his lap, his cock brushing against your folds and eliciting a moan of anticipation.

Reaching down you wrap your hand around his length, waiting for him to nod in approval before guiding himself inside of you. His hands grasp at your hips, inhaling sharply while you move slowly to adjust to the sensation. A couple minutes later you’re moving quicker, hips bouncing up and down as you rest one hand on Tyson’s shoulder, the other on the back of the couch for support.

You’re so caught up in the rush of pleasure that you don’t notice Nathan has made his way across the room till his hand is wrapped around your throat, pulling your head back to look up at him. “You look so fucking hot,” he groans, his thumb running across your bottom lip. You instinctively open your mouth, sucking gently on his finger. Nathan watches you till you pull back with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Your hips weren’t moving as quick now, completely distracted by your boyfriend. “Too bad Tyson didn’t take your bra off,” Nathan mutters, pulling his hands back and sliding to the hooks of your bra. “I couldn’t even get the full picture.” Slipping your bra off Nathan tosses it aside, his hands circling your body to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples.

“Fuck,” Tyson suddenly groans, head tipping back onto the couch, eyes shut. “I’m close,” he whispers like a confession.

“It’s fine, I can finish her off when you can’t,” Nathan growls, a possessiveness in his tone that you wouldn’t have expected after letting this happen.

Tyson glances up at Nathan before looking at you, his eyes suddenly dark and full of lust. “Stop,” Tyson mutters, grabbing your hips and forcing you to a stop.

“What? Why?” You whine as he pushes you off his lap and onto the couch beside him.

Tyson doesn’t say anything, moving to the ground and pulling you to the edge of the couch, his lips trailing up your thigh. Gasping loudly when his tongue brushes your clit you turn your attention to Nate as he sits down on the couch beside you, reaching down to run his hand along his length. “Don’t cum yet,” you whisper to him, hips squirming as Tyson uses his tongue with a level of expertise you weren’t expecting.

Nathan smirks, leaning over and kissing you. It’s sloppy and messy as you gasp and moan into his mouth. But you can tell he’s still stroking himself and you reach down, hand grasping at his wrist in a mess of limbs. “Please,” you plead.

“Why?” Nate whispers, hand on your jaw as he forces you to look at him, keeping your eyes off of Tyson despite the fact that Tyson was the one on the verge of making you cum.

“I want you inside me,” you whimper, Tyson’s free hand holding your hips still as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of falling apart completely. “I want you to cum inside me,” you whine, head tipping back against the couch as you hit your climax, moaning loud as your fingers dig into Nate’s wrist that you were still holding.

“Okay, okay,” Nate mutters as Tyson continues working his tongue against your clit, reaching over and gently pushing him back. “Go, I’ve got it from here,” he tells him, voice suddenly commanding as he nods towards the other couch.

Tyson nods, knowing he was in no place to argue as he stands up, walking across the room to sit on the other couch. You watch as Nathan pulls his sweatpants off quickly, standing up and turning to face you, hands on your hips as he turns you around to face the couch, your arms bracing yourself against the back of it as he comes up behind you. You gasp as he slides into you, your body already on edge from the night. “We can stop,” Nate offers, not moving as he runs his hands soothingly run along your waist.

Shaking your head you push your hips back, burying him deeper inside of you. “Okay,” he mumbles, hands holding your hips still as he thrusts into you, folding himself forward to brush circles on your clit.

You don’t manage to hold out much longer, fingers digging into the back of the couch. “Nate,” you cry out, body shaking as waves of pleasure crash over your body. “Fuck, I, please, Nate, I,” you stammer not even sure what you were asking for or needing. But before you have the chance to figure it out you feel Nathan cumming inside you, his thrusts sloppy and slow till he stops completely, breathing heavy and loud.

When he eventually pulls back you feel a brush of Kleenex against your swollen pussy, Nathan careful to keep things as clean as possible. But when you turn around you notice Tyson on the other side of the room, not quite as clean as he sheepishly glances towards the box of Kleenex that Nathan had conveniently beside him.

With a breathless giggle you catch Nate’s attention, gesturing towards the box. He picks it up and tosses it toward Tyson before reaching down and taking your hands, helping you to your feet. “Bath or shower?”

“Bath,” you reply, body exhausted as Nathan pulls you along to the en-suite bathroom in the bedroom you two were sharing. The bathtub is spacious and gives you the opportunity to share a bath with Nathan, your head resting on his chest as the warm water lulls you into a half-sleep.

“How are you feeling?” Nathan asks, your eyes closed as he run his hands up and down your arms.

“Hmm? Good,” you hum, eyes fluttering open. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I meant…about what just happened. Like, you were comfortable with all of that, right?”

“Of course,” you assure him, reaching up and taking one of his hands, curling your fingers between his and squeezing reassuringly.

“So, if he wants to do it again?”

Giggling you tip your head back to look at Nate. “What happens on this weird trip stays on this weird trip?”

Nathan chuckles and leans down, kissing your forehead gently. “Deal.”

And just as Nathan had predicted it did happen again. In the kitchen, bending you over the kitchen counter while Tyson watched from the barstool a couple feet away. In the bedroom, Tyson making use of one of the vibrators you had packed. And to complete the circle, the last night you made good on your word to be in the hot tub without a bikini on.

Hauling your last bag into the back of Nathan’s car on the last day of the trip you glance over your shoulder, seeing Tyson close the trunk of his own car, his eyes meeting yours. Your smile is uncertain as you look behind you, watching Nate lock up the cabin door.

“I’m glad you came.” You meant for it to sound genuine but the smirk that spread on Tyson’s lips makes you laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “Shut up.”

Tyson raises his hands in defence before lowering them and shoving them into his pocket, stepping a little closer, his eyes running up and down your body. “I didn’t say anything.”

Suddenly Nathan is behind you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his body. “Week’s over, Tys. Eyes above the neck.”

You watch Tyson glance down at the ground, chuckling nervously. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking back up at you two.

Leaning back against Nate you wrap your hands around his arms, relaxing into his embrace as you laugh softly. Of course you expected this part of it. Nate had always been a little bit of a jealous boyfriend and you knew his willingness to let anyone else be involved would have to come to an end. But you weren’t upset, because Nate gave you everything you needed and more. You had fun, but you didn’t mind letting Nate have you all to himself going forward.

#I'm so sorry for this #I'm too ashamed to even tag this with anything

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organabanana · 3 years

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Up against the (glass) wall || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers

Additional Tags: Lab Sex, absolute nonsense, lena luthor protocol but it's smut, alex would like a very long vacation, Oral Sex. oh rao

Summary: Frustrated by the lab's glass walls and lack of privacy, Lena decides to use her genius intellect to build something that'll allow her and Kara to have some alone time in between missions. Alex really only wanted to put her scientific skills to use in the lab, but she ends up discovering Lena's prototype is not quite as successful as it originally seemed.

Notes: this is the result of a totally serious and normal conversation with @emiltons and I feel like it’s 100% her fault tbh.

[ao3 link]

It starts with Kara arriving at the Tower after a particularly challenging mission. She could’ve flown straight home for a shower and some well-deserved rest, but she knows Lena can’t sleep while Kara is on duty, and she knows exactly what her girlfriend does when she can’t sleep. So Kara walks straight to the lab and smiles at the sight of Lena in her element, inventing what Kara has no doubt will be yet another world-saving gadget for them to use.

For a moment, Kara just watches her, grateful for the glass walls allowing her to see her girlfriend work without having to use her powers at all. There’s something soothing about the way Lena works, slow and methodical and precise even when she’s doing it just to keep her mind from drifting to Kara and the dangers she faces as Supergirl. And really, there’s no reason Lena should worry for a minute longer than strictly necessary, so Kara finally pushes the glass door open and walks into the lab.

“Hey, I’m ba—“ Lena turns around so quickly, wraps her arms around Kara so tightly, that Kara can only let out a quiet chuckle and hold on, enjoying the closeness and the scent of Lena’s hair filling up her lungs as Lena lets the tension of the last fourteen hours dissolve into the hug.

“Hey, baby,” Kara tries again, softer this time, breathed against the skin of Lena’s temple, “are you okay?”

Lena nods, lips pressing against Kara’s neck for a parting kiss before she finally pulls away from Kara’s arms to take a good look at her.

“I am now,” Lena says, eyes narrowing just so as she takes in the rips on Kara’s supersuit. Fingertips touch the torn fabric on Kara’s waist and across her left bicep, the smudges of dirt and pulverized concrete on her neck and cheek. “Are you?”

Kara grins. “Takes a bit more than a collapsing abandoned building to stop your girlfriend.”

And then Kara flexes her biceps, playfully, just because she knows Lena gets a kick out of her playing the confident jock from time to time. She definitely (she swears!) isn’t thinking about her supersuit and the small tear right over her left bicep, and she absolutely isn’t anticipating the way the fabric rips over her flexed muscle.

But.

As innocent as Kara is in all this, and she cannot possibly overstate how innocent she truly is, she’s not complaining at all when Lena tilts her head just so, green eyes fixated on the torn fabric and the bulging muscle underneath as she slowly licks her lips.

“Oh,” Lena says — breathes, really — as she arches one eyebrow, “I see.”

And then she reaches up and traces the ripped fabric once again, fingers pressing just so, like she’s testing just how fitting that Girl of Steel nickname really is.

“Who else is here?” Lena asks, voice low and darkened green eyes fixated on Kara’s, “Are we alone?”

“I, um—“ Kara struggles to make her brain cooperate and process Lena’s words when it feels like every single nerve ending in her body has been rerouted to that exact spot Lena is touching, “I think J’onn… lives here?”

Does M’gann live here also? Kara doesn’t know. Kara doesn’t care. Kara can’t quite breathe right.

“It’s pretty late,” Lena says, and her voice sounds like sun-warmed honey tastes, “I’m sure he’s asleep.”

And Kara swears she tries to think about it. About whether it’s past J’onn’s bedtime, about whether J’onn has a bedtime at all, and about whether martians even sleep in the first place. But suddenly Lena’s free hand is grabbing Kara’s and guiding it down, down, down under her skirt, and Lena’s lips are pressing a warm kiss to Kara’s jaw, and Kara suddenly realizes what’s going on.

“Oh,” she breathes out, blue eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they widen in shock at the realization of what’s going on. “Wh— here!?” Don’t get her wrong, she makes no move to stop the path of Lena’s lips towards her ear or pull her hand away from the warm soft skin of Lena’s inner thigh, but still. You know. “Lena, we can’t—“

“Can’t we?” Kara can feel Lena’s smile against her skin, and the way Lena’s teeth graze her earlobe makes her fingers inch just that little bit higher up Lena’s thigh. “Why not?”

What an excellent question. Kara tilts her head to the side to give Lena’s lips and teeth and tongue free access to her neck as she tries to find the part of her brain that knows why they can’t actually have sex in the lab.

“Because…” Kara sighs happily at a particularly well-placed kiss, “…it’s kinda rude?”

She feels Lena’s chuckle rather than hears it, and it makes a little shiver run down her spine. “It’s rude?” Kara can’t see Lena’s eyebrow, but she’s sure it’s arched so very prettily right now. How unfair. “This is my lab.”

And you know, Lena makes a good point, Kara figures, hand moving further up under Lena’s skirt. This is Lena’s side of the Lab. Her office, sort of unofficially, ever since she became an official member of the team. But still…

“You’re such a goody two shoes,” Lena teases, pressing herself a little closer against Kara.

“I mean, I’m Supergirl. It’s kind of my th— oh —“Lena’s teeth nip at Kara’s neck, completely derailing her thoughts for a moment, “—thing.”

And Kara is almost ready to give in. She’s almost ready to accept that yes, this lab counts as Lena’s home away from home so it’s perfectly fine if they want to get frisky in it. Her hand finishes its trek up Lena’s thigh and finds damp lace waiting for her, and frankly, they’re grown ups. She’s a whole super heroine. If she wants to fu—

“Formic acid!” Brainy’s voice reaches them just a second before he walks into the lab, which is lucky because it gives Kara just enough time to disentangle herself from her girlfriend at the speed of light.

Brainy stares through the glass wall separating the main lab from Lena’s smaller area. His eyes move from Lena to Kara and then back to Lena again, brow furrowed just so as he tries to figure out exactly what’s not right.

“Formic acid?” Lena prompts as she opens the door, voice entirely too level for someone who’s just been nearly caught with her girlfriend’s hand between her legs.

“Ah. Yes.” Brainy nods. “Formic acid. Nia’s neighbor has ants. It gave me an idea for the antidote we were talking about earlier. I think if we just—“

“Tomorrow. Brainy.” Kara interrupts him with a smile, hand wrapping around Lena’s wrist to pull her towards the exit. They have things to do. Private places to be.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Lena agrees, grabbing her coat on the way out of the lab.

***

It’s been three weeks since the formic acid incident — as Kara lovingly remembers it — when she gets to the Tower after a mission once again to find her girlfriend deep in thought at her desk.

There’s nothing particularly special about it this time. It’s early afternoon, her foes were rowdy but easily manageable, and her supersuit looks impeccable. And yet, when she walks through the glass door, Lena gives her a look.

A Look.

Oh, that look.

Kara knows the look. Knows what it means. And she very nearly offers to just fly them home right away to save themselves the pain of having to stop halfway through to relocate, but you know what? It’s a bit hard to think ahead when Lena Luthor in a deep burgundy dress is walking towards you with that look on her face.

“That was a quick mission,” Lena says, shaking her head just so to make her ponytail swish in a way Kara’s pretty sure should be some kind of illegal, “those bad guys were no match for Supergirl, huh?”

Kara is blushing. She can tell. She knows because she’s having to employ all her kryptonian strength to keep herself from saying golly or aw, gee or a number of other things that would frankly ruin this whole big super heroine fantasy Lena has going on right now. And who is she to ruin her girlfriend’s fun?

“N—no,” Kara manages, voice slightly higher than normal, and she clears her throat before continuing, “I’m super strong.”

Nailed it.

“You sure are,” Lena says with an amused smile, because she’s very sweet and she loves Kara too much to laugh at her, “do you wanna show me how strong you are, Supergirl?”

Kara nods. And then she remembers where they are and shakes her head.

“We should— I can fly us home.”

“But, baby,” Lena takes one slow step right into Kara’s personal space and Kara feels her brain begin to shut down, “I want you right now.”

“It—“ Kara is trying so hard to do the right thing here, she swears, even if her hands are already on Lena’s waist and she’s already pulling Lena close and Lena smells so very good, “but the walls, Lena.”

Kara can tell Lena is trying very hard not to laugh.

“The walls?”

“Yeah,” Kara presses a quick kiss to deep red lips, just because it feels rude not to acknowledge how delicious they look, “I get what you guys were going for with the… futuristic sci-fi interior design, but all this glass is not very private, baby.”

Lena grins. And it’s not just a regular charmed grin. Not the normal one she shows when Kara says something sweet or funny and her heart gets a little fluttery in her chest (Kara’s heard it). No. This is something else. This is the smile Lena wears when they absolutely destroy everyone at game night.

Lena’s won. What exactly she’s won, Kara doesn’t know yet. But oh, Lena has absolutely won… something.

“You know, you’re right. They’re not very private at all. That’s why I made this.”

Lena shows her what looks to Kara like tiny remote and pushes the button.

Lena Luthor protocol engaging.

Kara cocks one eyebrow at Lena, who simply shrugs as a small robot flies from under her desk.

“I named it after the original one. For nostalgia’s sake.”

Kara stares in confusion as the small robot hovers nearby and points what looks like a camera at them. Except it’s not a camera. It’s… some kind of spotlight?

“What’s it doing?” Kara can see the light inside the robot, can see it pointing the ray at them, but she sees no change in the lightning of the lab.

“It’s making us invisible.”

“What? I can see you,” Kara looks down at her hands on Lena’s waist, “I can see me.”

“That’s because you’re not looking through the glass. Look there,” Lena says, pointing at a polished steel surface on the main area of the lab. There should be a reflection there… but there isn’t one.

Kara stares, blue eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. She’s seen plenty of impressive tech since becoming Supergirl — let alone what she grew up with in Krypton — but this is something else.

Of course, the fact that Lena’s body is pressed up against her own, and the fact that she developed a whole new technology just to be able to get frisky in her glass-covered lab may have something to do with it.

“What do you think?” Lena does this thing she does where she sort of arches against Kara’s body in a way that makes Kara’s brain feel like it’s sloshing about in a sea of Lena’s perfume, and then presses her lips against Kara’s jaw, and to be honest Kara isn’t thinking at all right now.

“Wh— what?” One of Kara’s hands slides down from Lena’s waist to the curve of her ass, grabbing a handful of it as Lena’s teeth oh-so-gently nip at Kara’s bottom lip. “Wh—“ Kara tries again, barely above a whisper, but frankly she’s much more interested in kissing Lena like she means it — like she deserves to be kissed — and she completely forgets she’s been asked a question in the first place.

“Kara,” Lena pulls away from the kiss, lipstick a little bit smeared, cheeks a little bit flushed, breathing a little bit stilted, “I asked you a question.”

And you know, Kara is sure that’s true. She’s, like, so sure. But Lena is taking a step back to lean right against that sleek glass wall and pulling Kara along, and Kara’s brain is powerless to process anything beyond the fact that her girlfriend is practically begging her to have her way with her up against that wall.

And that’s… well, that’s something.

“Yeah,” Kara chooses to answer, because frankly she’d say yes to anything Lena asked right now and she’s a bit busy kissing up the path of freckles on Lena’s neck to care about the actual question right now, “yeah, baby, of course.”

Normally, Lena is far from pleased when she detects even a hint of Kara trying to placate her with mindless agreement, but this must be working for her because all Kara feels under her lips is an amused giggle right as Lena’s fingers slide into blond hair.

“What do you think of the new protocol?” Lena’s voice has a touch of teasing weaved into the words, like she knows the question is ultimately irrelevant but she likes watching Kara struggle to form coherent thoughts while horny. And, you know, Kara can respect that.

“It’s so good,” the hand that’s not on Lena’s ass moves up to cover Lena’s right breast, and Kara celebrates her own incredible luck by pressing a kiss to Lena’s lips, “you’re so smart,” another kiss, this time to a smile Lena can’t quite contain, “my genius girlfriend.”

Lena’s blunt fingernails lightly scratch at Kara’s scalp, making her hum happily against Lena’s lips. “You’re just horny,” Lena teases, her tone clearly stating just how happy she is that’s the case.

“And humbled! By your genius intellect.” Kara squeezes Lena’s ass and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, because she’s cute and Kara knows deep down there’s a little part of Lena that will always need to hear how good she is out loud. “I can do both. I’m Supergirl.”

Lena chuckles, low and soft, and rewards Kara’s thoughtfulness with a kiss. “Well, Supergirl,” she says, shooting her girlfriend a look that hits Kara right between her legs, “if you’re feeling humbled, you may as well show me how much.”

And then. Then, Lena uses her grip on Kara’s hair to gently tug down, just so, just enough to make Kara’s eyes widen with the realization of where Lena wants her. On her knees. At Lena’s feet. And frankly, Kara files this under things they absolutely need to explore further, because she swears she feels her body temperature rise by at least a couple degrees.

But she’s not about to make Lena wait. So Kara slowly sinks down to her knees, blue eyes locked with green just so Lena can see. So Lena can see Supergirl kneeling at her feet.

When her right knee touches the floor, she hears Lena’s breath catch in her throat.

“Go on,” Lena says, upper back leaning against the wall, “show me.”

Kara nods, hands wrapping around lena’s thighs and slowly sliding up, up, up, bringing Lena’s pencil skirt along with them. She can’t resist kissing every inch of soft, warm skin she uncovers, lips trailing a path up one of Lena’s inner thighs and then the other, until all she needs to do is push the bunched up skirt up over her hips and ass to reach the lacy (Kara is willing to bet) fabric of her—

“Oh,” Kara breathes out, staring at the spot where Lena’s panties should be but decidedly aren’t. And Kara, to her credit, manages to look up into green eyes and shoot her girlfriend a teasing smirk along with a fake scandalized look. “Miss Luthor.”

There’s a dusting of pink across the bridge of Lena’s nose that Kara finds frankly unfair given the circumstances. “Well, I knew the prototype would be ready by the time you came back.”

“See? Genius girlfriend,” Kara smiles as she presses a kiss to Lena’s mound, pulling a happy little sigh out of her, “so smart.”

And then Kara stops talking, because she has much more important things to do with her mouth. Things like kissing the slick skin of Lena’s inner thighs, humming in delight at the smell and taste of her girlfriend and the way Lena’s fingers fist in her hair.

Kara takes her time, lips and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of Lena’s cunt but pointedly avoiding her clit, just because she happens to think there’s no sound more beautiful than the way Lena says please.

“You look so good down there,” Lena says, breathy and flushed, “right—“ her breath catches in her throat, and Kara smiles between Lena’s thighs, “—there.”

And this is why Kara will never really mind the way Lena teases her and makes her blush and stumble over her words. Because she knows the tables turn as soon as she’s between Lena’s legs.

“Where, baby?” Kara asks, her face the perfect picture of innocence as she presses a soft kiss just shy of Lena’s clit, “Here?”

Lena’s eyes flutter closed and she leans her head back against the glass wall with a smile. “Kara.”

She’s never Supergirl when they’re like this.

“Here?” Kara’s teeth gently nip at one of Lena’s lips, and then the other, “Or here?”

“Kara, please.”

And there it is. Right there, the most beautiful sound in the world.

So Kara decides to reward Lena by finally flicking her tongue against a stiff clit before wrapping her lips around it, and she doesn’t hold it against Lena when she pulls on Kara’s hair instead of saying thanks.

All slowness and teasing forgotten, Kara puts her lips and teeth and tongue at Lena’s service, letting Lena hook one leg over Kara’s shoulder to give her better access as she uses her hold on Kara’s hair to pull her closer still.

Kara feels like she’s drunk on Lena’s taste and smell and the sound of the moans she’s struggling to stifle. She can taste just how close Lena is, she can feel it in the way her thighs quake and her breathing gets more and more stilted and her hips rock harder and faster against Kara’s tongue.

“God, Kar—“ Kara hears the sound of Lena smacking one hand over her own mouth, keeping herself as close to quiet as possible — Kara is delighted for her own superhearing that allows her to hear it all anyway — as she rides Kara’s mouth.

She’s so close. So close Kara feels the one leg holding Lena up shaking perilously as a quiet moan escapes between Lena’s fingers, and Kara is just in time to prop her up with one hand as Lena finally comes, head tilting back and hitting the glass wall with a soft thud.

And that — exactly that moment — is when Kara freezes at the sound of someone walking towards the lab.

It’s been a while since Alex has been alone in the lab. It’s been a while since she’s been in the lab at all, to be honest. And that doesn’t seem fair, right? She may not be Lena or Brainy, but she’s a scientist! She can do science things. That formic acid conundrum they were talking about the other day?

Alex could have helped.

But do they ever ask Alex for scientific input? No. All Alex is good for is apparently acrobatic crime-fighting and daring make-up choices.

And she’s ready to prove her worth. So after checking that nobody’s already in the lab, Alex walks in and starts looking around. Innocently, of course. She’d never do anything really intrusive like go into Lena’s personal area or mess with Brainy’s future toys. No, no. But she’ll look around. Check out what they’re doing. See if anything looks like it could be solved by an actual medical doctor, thank you very much.

And then — then she hears it. Some kind of… thud?

On the other side of the glass wall, cloaked by Lena’s invisibility robot, Kara braces herself with one hand on the wall as she holds Lena up with the other. And Kara may be Supergirl, but there’s something to be said about trying to be quiet while holding Lena through a frankly earth-shattering — if she may say so herself — orgasm with her face still between Lena’s thighs.

It takes skill.

And Kara is managing just fine, mind you, until Lena twitches in a way Kara wasn’t expecting, and Kara loses her hold on her for just a split second before she presses her up against the wall once again.

Alex narrows her eyes. The thud she could ignore, but she swears there’s the faintest outline of a handprint on the glass. And just when she’s about ready to chalk it all up to sleep deprivation, she hears a… squeak. The unmistakable sound of skin sliding against glass.

And now it’s not just the handprint there. There’s something round next to it. Something like—

Wait.

Is that the outline of an ass?

“Oh my God, Kara!” Alex turns around, voice climbing higher in both pitch and volume as she speaks because she doesn’t know whether she’s just seen the outline of her sister’s butt or her sister’s girlfriend’s butt but either way she’d very much like to have her memory wiped right now. Is J’onn home?

“Not this again!” She continues, somewhere between horrified and desperate. To be fair, she’s never walked into invisible wall sex before, but she has interrupted a frankly worrying amount of heavy make-out sessions for the time Kara and Lena have been together, and she’d really rather not think about what those two would have done had she remained asleep for a few minutes longer the last time she agreed to a movie night.

It’s a pattern of emotionally scarring behavior, is all she’s saying.

“And you know!” Alex turns around, eyes squeezed shut because she does not want to catch even the slightest glimpse of that assprint ever again. “You know,” she bangs on the wall for emphasis, just once, “I’m all for pride, but there is such a fucking thing as a healthy amount of shame!”

Alex stomps out of the lab, and her aggravated footsteps can still be faintly heard in the distance when Lena clears her throat. She’s blushing bright red, but her voice sounds remarkably steady for someone whose left leg is still hooked over her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Joy,” Lena says, and the sleek virtual personal assistant on her desk whirs to life. “Protocol prototype version 1.0 partially successful,” she dictates, “consider one-way glass going forward.”

“Oh, oh! And Joy?” Kara pipes up from between Lena’s thighs, “Please order Alex a ‘we’re sorry’ pie.”

Lena simply nods. “Make it strawberry this time.”

#supercorp #supercorp fanfiction #fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #fic

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slashhinginghasher · 3 years

Text

Marena vs. meeting other slashers

purely self-indulgent OC content byyyyyeeeeee

Jason Voorhees

Probably the most likely to get along out of all the slashers, tbh. Masha is a capable outdoorsman herself and will set up her own camp on the other the side of the lake. She’s respectful of the landscape and won’t be having premarital sex on Jason’s front yard. Jason probably insists lets her stay in one of the empty cabins during the winter. Masha may join in on the murdering if one of the victims is particularly annoying. Not a single word is ever exchanged between the two of them. The physical embodiment of this GIF:

Michael Myers:

DEATH. One of them is absolutely going to die within a week and the survivor depends entirely on how quickly Marena can get a her hands on a ranged weapon and a high vantage point. Obviously there is no way Marena will win in hand-to-hand combat against the Tank of Haddonfield, but if she finds a gun/crossbow/etc. and a nice sturdy tree branch to wait on she is taking that fucker out, and she is fully willing to absolutely mutilate the body to make sure he doesn’t come back. If she can’t, though, it’s going to be an extended period of chasing and then poor Masha is getting squooshed like a bug. :(

Freddy Krueger:

It’s on sight. Oh, you’re going to hunt her down through her nightmares? Her brain already has that handled, no intervention required. That’s a cute knife glove, hope it can stand up to a fucking bear. Freddy shows up in one of her childhood memories and has to take a pause to process, just standing there like “what in the fuck”. She’s got 20 different kinds of knife and she’s about to use all of them on him. She’s not trapped there with him, he’s trapped there with her.

Leatherface (Thomas/Bubba, same response)

Most likely she has died upon the first Texas sunrise from Too Fucking Hot Disease. If she avoids heatstroke long enough to make it to dinner, she is going to be a disappointingly nonreactive house guest. Hoyt/Drayton prepares a whole dramatic buildup to the Soylent Green Is People reveal and she does not bat an eyelash. This girl will eat anything if it’s seasoned enough. Leatherface is probably a little intimidated by her because of her perpetual dead-inside stare. She won’t be kept around because she’s a bitch and sucks at housework. Good scenario: Leatherface lets her escape in the night. Bad scenario: she meets the saw and someone makes lovely trinkets out of her hair.

Ghostface (Billy and Stu)

Marena has consumed approximately 3 Media in her entire life, so the encounter will go one of two ways:

1. Her complete lack of knowledge Disgusts them. They go in for the kill and get their asses handed to them on several platters because Marena is feral and Billy and Stu grew up in the suburbs.

2. Stu is horrified (”You haven’t seen Psycho? It’s a CLASSIC!”) and decides that Masha needs to be educated posthaste. Through his relentless golden retriever energy, he gets her to watch a bunch of movies and cultivates another horror freak. Billy is pissed because he’s supposed to be the dark and brooding one, damn it, and also she’s hot and won’t let him smash. Marena teaches them how to stab people properly.

Sinclair brothers

Let’s pretend for imagination’s sake that Marena has not been killed but also cannot leave Ambrose for whatever reason.

Lester Sinclair: A fellow weirdo who spends a lot of time playing with dead animals in the woods. Too chatty for her taste, but she respects his work and his bowie knife. They might carve bones together. Marena teaches him how to make traps so he can increase his supply of fresh meat. Lester is enchanted by the fact that she seems unbothered by the roadkill smell.

Vincent Sinclair: Thought it was one emo bitch with good hair in this house but it’s actually two. The second Marena discovers the secret creeper tunnels you are not gonna see her for at least a week because Weeeeeeeee Hiding Spots. She does not hang out in the sculpting room because it’s too hot and is, not creeped out, but disconcerted that Vincent has found a new weirdass thing to do with a dead body that she has not seen before.

Bo Sinclair: LOATHING AT FIRST SIGHT. Oh my god these two would hate each other but in like the horniest way possible. Bo manhandles Marena into The Chair because he is Big and she is Small. Marena grabs the heaviest wrench she can find and nails him directly in the nuts. They have the hottest nastiest hate sex ever and wind up with bloody scratches and bite marks all over themselves afterwards. Eventually they will unwillingly start to bond over being the Unwanted Child and having shitty abusive parents. Basically Midnight Star Lite because the toxicity is there but Bo does not have Jesse’s wealth or resources, only farm fresh homegrown Lousiana bastardry.

Jonesy: Goodest girl. A+ 10/10 would hang out and give belly rubs all day every day.

The Collector/Asa Emory

You’ll see ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

#marena polunochnaya #slasher oc #jason voorhees #michael myers #freddy krueger #billy loomis #stu macher #ghostface #leatherface #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 3 years

Note

Hey you've probably touched on this in the past but I'm new here, so if it's okay and you feel like it would you mind explaining how do you think it could be possible for Louis to be forced to pretend he is a father of a child (that we actually know and can recognise, not just as a rumor or something like that) as a pr strategy? I'm not trying to say it's impossible, I genuinely have no idea how the pr world works and this just sounds pretty extreme and weird, especially involving a minor and all.

I've personally always thought Louis was probably high/drunk (or maybe not, just seems more plausible to me idk and we know he wasn't in the best place at the time) and had a one night stand with this girl he was meant to be seen with for publicity, she got pregnant but he didn't want to do anything about it or like be involved but once word "got out" to the management (umbrella term i use to mean whoever it is that's handling this sorts of things, maybe pr team? idk) they decided to exploit it and make use of it as a strategy to cover up something else or put him in his place (assuming he had said/done something to irritate them or smth) or even just to bring attention to him/the band no matter what kind of attention they would be getting (although i have to say for a boy band targeted mostly towards teen or even pre-teens the image of the party boy getting high and getting random girls pregnant doesn't sound like something they would want to purposefully go after, but once again, I'm not from expert)

and at that point Briana wanted her slice of the cake and the money and the attention, so he got stuck with all this, but since the kid was born he has tried to be part of his life, if intermittently (also, we don't Really know how frequently he actually goes to LA, and we don't have any idea about any phone/video calls, so like they could be in contact every day or once a year yk)

I do realise this sound a bit headcanony but tbh so have all the other theories I've seen going around... I also realise it's pointless to lose much brain power over this kinda questions we probably won't ever have answers for lol but I still like to share opinions and im curious to see what others think!

You in particular, just cause i always find your takes super interesting and I tend to agree to what you have to say on most stuff, so yeah I'd be curious to know what you think!

Have a nice day x (and sorry for the super long message, I totally get it if you don't have time to go through this or to answer)

Don't apologise anon - I love long messages. I'm going to take this in two parts.

First of all there's nothing wrong with believing that Louis is the father and if that makes most sense to you go forth with it. I agree with your point that there's lots we don't know about the current situation and it could work for everyone involved. But I'll explain why the specific story you're telling doesn't explain anything to me.

You say we know that Louis wasn't in a particularly good place at the time - I'm not sure we do. I mean he'd been doing very intense work for a very long time and I'm sure there were costs, but I don't think there's any particular reason to think that April/May 2015 were bad for Louis.

As I've emphasised before there is hardly any time for any of what you describe to have happened. It might be an explanation if the pregnancy had been announced months later. But Louis wouldn't know how he felt about getting someone pregnant less than two weeks after he'd had it confirmed that he was the father. To suggest that he could possibly have settled in 'don't want anything to do with it' misses that dealing with an unplanned pregnancy is a process that you expect to take time.

I think you're explanation also seems to put causation in the wrong place. If Louis' the father he's in this situation because he's the father. Not because of anything Briana or his team did. If Louis' a father, the core of that hasn't been changed by anything we've seen.

But also I don't think this answers any questions. It's basically the classic undermotivated villain problem. 1DHQ went public in a very short time frame because reasons. It won't help them make money, it won't make their work easier, but they're not just doing it, but turning on a dime to do it. It's not impossible, but there has to be a much more deeply weird explanation than Louis irritated someone.

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

At the beginning you asked this: How do you think it could be possible for Louis to be forced to pretend he is a father of a child (that we actually know and can recognise, not just as a rumor or something like that) as a pr strategy?

And I'll try to answer it, but that's not really what I believe.

I believe that the most insightful comment about the situation came from Karl Marx when he said: "Louis Tomlinson makes his own history, but he doesn't make in circumstances of his own choosing".

If I think of the worst situations people I know have got into with work and imagine some outsider said 'well were they forced to do [thing that was really damaging/they really hated]' - the answer would be 'it's more complicated than that'. Work is iterative - and situations develop over time and there are lots of forces operating on people.

There are still huge questions, but I find it useful to think about things as a series of decisions, not something that was fully formed. Working backwards, it seems reasonably clear to me that from April 2016 absolutely no force from anyone would be needed to maintain the situation. It would be very difficult to change it without outting Louis and he also had a strong need for family privacy.

Likewise I think from August-December 2015 'force' isn't a very good way of understanding what would have happened. People often do things that aren't ideal, because they're better than any other option.

To me there are really only two areas of question - the first is the announcement, and the second is the aftermath of the birth. And I wouldn't suggest I had an explanation in either case, but I do have areas of explanation.

1D was in crisis for all of 2015 and I suspect those crises overlapped in curious and unexplained ways. But one thread of crisis was that Harry and Louis' closet was not holding. There were respectful and curious podcasts, people with profile were discussing the possibility openly. Louis talking about his birthday near led to outting him. At the same time Eleanor left (I assume because she wanted to, but maybe it was unsustainable for other reason). Louis hadn't suddenly become more convincing at heterosexuality. Then the new beard became pregnant. I don't think this is sufficient explanation, but I think combined with probably six different things I don't know. I can see how 'have a story that it's Louis, we can always deny it', was an option that gained concensus. (It's important to understand how the situation snowballed over time, and that people only ever agreed to it one step at a time).

I think the situation with the birth is much more mystifying, but I've made peace with not knowing, because we have no idea what Louis was hoping 2016 was going to look like. We don't know what his plans or intentions were. We only know that his 2016 ended up looking catastrophically, entirely different from what he'd hoped.

That's where I come from. There are lots of holes, and it's perfectly reasonable that other people think differently. People have different experiences and weight things in a range of ways.

#One more thing #as I've said this #I might as well be clear about what's important to me #The timing of flights #makes it very clear #that Briana and Freddie did not come to see Jay #but to be seen and allay questions

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whocalledhimannux · 3 years

Text

@peregrer the What. 👀👀👀 *insert John Mulaney gif of "say more right now"*

ok so when I say "the extent to which I've fleshed out the QT GBBO AU in my head is getting to be embarrassing," I truly and deeply mean it, please enjoy 1,900 words of utter ridiculousness.

first, our competitors:

Legarus - performs so poorly that viewers are a bit confused how he got on the show in the first place, a la Jamie (series 10) or that one guy who made a lime and chocolate cake in the first week.

Chloe - nice flavors and good ideas for decorations, but pretty sloppy. was up for elimination in the first week but came back with a great showstopper.

Melheret - good but not as good as he thinks he is (hence his bread week elimination because of sloppy technique), heavy-handed with the alcohol flavoring

Agape - solid competitor, not flashy but tasty + pretty results. I haven't worked out exact week-by-week themes (that would indeed be Too Much) but I imagine this is something like "Dairy" or "Caramel" or "Vegan," some particular element she just happens to not be strong on. viewers are disappointed by her early elimination

Teleus - Dad contestant. brings in a bunch of weird pans and gadgets he made up himself, does pretty well until it comes to Fiddly Foreign Foods he doesn't know (probably eliminated in French or Patisserie week)

Laela - typically has good flavors and pretty designs but technical knowledge is a bit lacking, so there are usually some flaws in the execution and she's often in the bottom half of technicals

Phresine - Grandma contestant. nails the classics but ultimately isn't creative enough to make it further.

Magus - the "Ian (series 6)" flavor of Dad contestant, often brings in foraged ingredients or eggs from his own chickens or whatnot and revives old recipes/flavor combinations no one else knows about. one week, some of those turn out to just be too weird, leading to his elimination.

Sophos - pretty elaborate decorations and good flavors (on the border of classic and new), but he tends to try a million different embellishments on everything and struggles with timing, occasionally to the detriment of technique.

Kamet - always has really interesting and different flavors and tends to do well in technicals especially, assuming he doesn't get overwhelmed. which is... an assumption (Finalist)

Costis - leans towards classic and indulgent flavors, although sometimes a bit sloppy--the kind of contestant where the judges look at his dishes and say "it's a bit of a mess" and then Paul Hollywood starts laughing because it still tastes delicious (Finalist)

Irene - absolutely stunning visually, queen of the technicals, occasionally gets the "style over substance" warning (Winner)

more details below the cut

I've gone back and forth on whether Eugenides should be in it but ultimately I decided no because I wanted to maintain a pre-show relationship between Laela + Kamet (I thought otherwise at first but then I realized I hadn't left Kamet any longterm friends or family for his finalist video and that's depressing af) and Irene and Sophos which to my knowledge hasn't happened once on the show so far? so having a married couple on top of that seems like it would be a stretch, and also then I think I'd need to make Eugenides the winner on principle and you know what? he can stand to be second fiddle to his wife for a little bit. My alternate backstory for him is that he was actually the winner of MasterChef one year (good with knives), so in the first episode Irene's first little chat to camera is something like "my husband's been bugging me for years to try out and I keep telling him he's got a skewed perspective on cooking competitions, finally I applied just to shut him up... and here we are." Her little video introduction is about how baking is a stress relief from her bigshot job. Her decorations tend to be abstract and gorgeous rather than cutesy.

Kamet, likewise, was nagged into applying by Laela, but she very cleverly framed it as she wanted to apply and wanted him to do it to for moral support. both were confident the other would get in and surprised that they did themselves. This is one of those series where everyone's friendships are immediate and obvious and super adorable (cast of series 10 my beloved...), and in particular these two are holding hands in episode 1. Laela's deep blue robe from TaT sticks in my head for whatever reason so I imagine her making an elaborate blue peacock cake or something one week that wins her star baker. somebody always does a peacock something and it's always impressiev.

Phresine is cool as a cucumber under pressure, always has lovely things to say about everyone else's bakes, and is the go-to last-minute helper because she usually comes in under the time. Irene starts out similar but as the weeks go by she starts to feel the pressure a bit more and cuts it a bit close. Sophos is the worst on timings, and mentions his wife at least once an episode. (I also played with him being single on the show and meeting Helen later through Irene and Eugenides, but this idea is too cute to pass up tbh.) Teleus lives with Relius, a fact that isn't mentioned until a few weeks in when he comments that Relius likes a recipe or gave him an idea for a flavor or something (Relius does not bake himself but will happily sample practice bakes), to the surprised delight of every viewer whose favorite contestant is the oldest gay in any given series (me, me, that person is me).

Costis tends to use a lot of chocolate and, as I said, pretty "classic" flavors--one of those people who makes a full English savory bake at some point. He's usually in the top half of the competition but doesn't get the top until one of the later weeks in the competition, which is a Honey themed week, and he absolutely nails it. The delicate decorations of his honey nut cakes and his use of honeycomb are particularly praised and that's the week he gets star baker. One of those bakers who flirts with elimination the first few weeks but noticeably improves over the course of the show.

My most, like, plot-y ideas are about Kamet (SHOCKER). I imagine he was born in Setra (I usually make Setra a non-autonomous region in my AUs) but arrived in Britain as a child due to [Unspecified Crisis] and ended up with foster dad Jeffa, who was roughly from the same region but not Setra itself; whenever Kamet wanted Setran food as a kid, Jeffa would take him to the library to find recipes and that was what sparked his love of baking. He's well-read on the subject and knows about foods from a lot of different cultures, so he's usually heard of the technical challenges even if he hasn't made or eaten them. He does a lot of fusion flavors, and is ALL ABOUT bread week.

I don't usually make the his-relationship-with-Nahuseresh-is-romantic leap in modern AUs but I think it works for this one because of the nature of the format--Nahuseresh doesn't actually appear on camera but is alluded to once or twice, ends up being Very Displeased that Kamet is doing something for himself, and during the week following Laela's elimination they have the fight that makes Kamet realizes this is actually a terrible relationship and he needs to leave now. He calls Laela to let her know what's up and mentions that, since he'll need to stay in a motel and has presumbly lost his job as a secretary (yeah working for your boyfriend is Bad, he's realized that now), he's going to have to drop out of the show. Laela, despite living in a studio flat without room to host him, immediately thinks "um fuck that" and calls Costis, and within an hour Costis and Aris and a few rugby buddies have moved all of Kamet's things into Costis and Aris's flat, where Costis insists that he'll squeeze into Aris's room (they've shared before, it's fine) and that Kamet gets first dibs on the kitchen for all bake off practices.

None of them actually reveal any of this to the show's producers. Kamet gets a little overwhelmed the following week and nearly walks away from the tent, but Costis jumps in to keep his bake from being ruined, and some soothing words from Irene + the hosts calm him down and he returns to finish. The only mention of the Drama comes in the finale, during the longer video clips they do on each of the contestants. Kamet is deliberately vague about the details of the situation, but Aris shows up in both Costis's and Kamet's videos and references the fact that having TWO flatmates in the bake off is a bit difficult because they only have a standard size kitchen, so he hasn't cooked for himself in a month and has been living off cake and savory breads. one of the hosts talks to Kamet in the tent after that clip is shown and he still won't talk about it in more detail, but says that he wanted to tell people so they could appreciate why Costis hasn't practiced as much the last few weeks (the judges scolded him for winging it a couple of times), and admits that he totally copied some of Costis's techniques for honey week based on watching him at home.

I imagine the finale task is something like an illusion cake--probably with a bunch of additional required elements because the show has been going bonkers with the finale showstoppers in the newer seasons--and Irene wins with a jewelry box containing, among other things, ruby earrings made out of candy. Kamet does a stepwell, and Costis does something architectural (I was thinking castle but something visibly Greek-ish so maybe a temple or a megaron? idk). Irene wins but they're all BFFs and that's obvious, so everyone's delighted for her. The little montage at the end reveals that Irene + Gen are expecting twins, that everybody hangs out all the time, and that Costis + co recently helped Kamet move into his own flat where he's now working on a novel (Immakuk and Ennikar inspired, obvi, leaning heavily on the honey-shared-on-the-road thing and including some recipes that actually work in the narration, albeit still written in an ancient-novel-like-way).

[Obviously not part of the show, but when Kamet mentions that it's time for him to look for his own place, Costis tries to v awkwardly invite him to stay forever and Kamet is like "nope I've got to try this on my own but yes we will go on a date once I've moved out and see how it goes from there."]

[This is so far beyond the scope of the show but also several of them go on to have more baking-related careers and have active social media presences and at one point they're all hanging out and Eugenides pulls out a camera and demands they all produce baking pick-up lines. Teleus refuses and also doesn't believe anyone knows baking pick-up lines off the top of their head or could make them up on the spot. Sophos sort of proves him right by coming up with "you're the apple of my pie," which Eugenides instantly mocks because Sophos's three greatest loves are baking, Helen, and poetry, and that's the best he can do? Helen comes up with "I like my cake the way I like my men--rich, sweet, and bright red," to which Sophos blushes on cue. Irene's is "when I'm with you, I feel like chocolate heated to 50 degrees--I struggle to maintain my temper." Eugenides protests this is more like an anti-pickup line. Irene insists this is the most accurate marriage-related baking pun anyone could ever come up with.

[Laela's is "You and I are like custard--I hope we never split." Kamet's is "You remind me of bread, because I knead you." Costis freezes for a minute and finally comes up with "Fancy a cream horn?" which produces a lot of giggling and makes Kamet slap his arm in such a way that, hen Eugenides posts this video to instagram, fans of the show all go WAIT ARE THEY DATING NOW] [by this point, yes they are] [I didn't even have to google baking pickup lines for this, guys, I legit came up with them on my own, please clap.]

am I obsessed? I might be obsessed

#queen's thief #attolia irene #kamet #costis ormentiedes #sophos #eugenides #teleus #eddis helen #laela #oh dear I bet her tag is virtually unsearchable #sorry laela

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