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#the point fucking FLEW over the directors head
ohmerricat · 2 years
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xameleon theatre production of antigone is like. the original theban plays aren’t fucked up enough we need to feature even more incest
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bucknastysbabe · 1 year
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70s/80s summer camp for jace it’s just so fitting
SO FITTING THAT LIL SUMMER BOY, I struggled at first and really found my groove so I hope it’s good! Thanks for requesting❤️❤️
AU Bingo - 70’s Summer Camp - Jace Velaryon
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Rating: Explicit
Tags: TW//underage drinking, consumption of marijuana and alcohol in LARGE quantities, Jace and Reader are 18, Cregan’s little sister!reader, enemies to fwb to lovers, slight angst, Addam and Alyn share one brain cell, poor Luke, Cregan is the ultimate Big Bro, cunnilingus, pnv!sex, Frottage, blowjobs, Jace’s Horse Dong, virgin!Jace, we goin wild at the summer camp
“It’s going to be a hot summer this year folks! But we have hotter music for the Summer of seventy-nine. Here’s The Logical Song from Supertramp.”
The man on the radio was right. It was sweltering in Jace’s little black Pontiac firebird transam. He swerved at breakneck speed around the bends on the mountain roads, second nature at this point. Lucerys was in the passenger, nervously eyeing his brother.
“You’re making me quiver,” he shoved the twerp, “Quit being a pussy.”
Luke mumbled, “M’not a pussy!” He sunk down into the leather seats, brown eyes cast to the surrounding trees and views. They’d go through the mountains before making it to the lake and the camp. Camp Wolfwind was the name, the Stark family generously started it over decades ago.
Cregan Stark, Jace’s best friend by mail most of the time would be there. He was assistant director of camp this year, just a year older than him. Cregan always had the air of being mature, making Jace feel like a kid without even trying. Mr. Umber was the camp director, some wildman looking type with a booming laugh.
Jace’s mother had him and Luke come to this camp since they were little, to quote, “I’m not sending my children to that snobby hobnobbing farce of a camp. You boys are going to learn to be of the people and nature.” Safe to say Camp Wolfwind was a staple of Jacaerys summer. It really was a great place.
Being a senior counselor this year added bonuses. More time off between campers, say-so on party invitations, and all the grass, liquor, whatever you could get your hands on. It was a poorly hidden secret Mr. Umber grew his own bud. But only on the weekends you could partake, per Cregan.
“Whose gonna be the female senior counselor?”
Jace almost wrecked the fancy car. Fuck. Cregan’s little sister got that post. He’d had to work with the thorn in his side since, god, he first camp to Wolfwind. She had a way of getting under his skin with that sharp laugh and glinting eyes. Most of the guys thought she was sexy, looking like Jaclyn Smith of Charlie’s Angels.
Jace saw a demon with horns snorting at him when she opened her mouth. He had no clue how that girl was related to the ever calm, collected Cregan. Jace huffed, annoyed that Luke brought back the information he had banished since receiving the letter from his friend.
Whatever. It was his last summer at Wolfwind before heading off to college. Camp stopped last week of July and most of his stuff was packed up back home anyway.
A sign for the camp flew by, Jace’s knuckles whitening on the wheel. Luke snorted and popped back a cheez-it, “You’ll be fine, she’s really not that bad.” The elder brother made a familiar turn, much slower now, and scoffed, “Okay, sure, that’s why Aemond makes you cry at Christmas.” The two were pulling hair and throwing blind punches, the car skidded to a halt as insults were slung.
Cregan leaned into the open window, grinning in amusement, dodging a stray elbow. He slammed on the hood of the trans am a couple of times before Jace collected himself and shot one last side-eye to his shit of a brother. The eldest Stark huffed in humor, “Good to see you Jace and Luke, let’s get you two parked then you can go into the woods to work it out.”
Jace smiled and shook his best friend’s hand, “That can be arranged.”
Luke was back to pouting, quiet and slamming shit as he grabbed his stuff upon parking. The familiar smells and sights greeted Jace’s nose. He couldn’t help but grin at the lake shining under the view of the mountains, the wooden buildings here and there, up through the trees were obstacle courses and archery ranges. The smell of the mess hall wafted by. The Velaryon felt at home here.
Sliding his Ray-bans back, Jace sauntered to the senior counselor rooms, a duplex where he’d be connected to Satan herself. Luke stomped off to the more open spaced male junior counselor building, throwing one last bird finger. Cregan leaned against the porch frame now, holding out a bag full of camp clothes.
“You need to leave that poor boy alone,” he teasingly chastised. Jace plunked his suitcase on the bed and eyed the mirror in front of him. He shrugged, “Always sound like my mom Stark.” Cregan shrugged, “You know me, someone’s gotta do it.” The smaller brunette plugged away his personal clothes.
“Sis is real excited to see you,” he deadpanned.
Cregan’s dry humor could either make one want to drown or laugh until crying. Currently it’s drowning. Jace slammed a drawer shut and snarked, “I’m sure she is, surprised she-wolf wasn’t waiting with a sign that said ‘welcome pansy!’” Another huffing snicker from the elder.
“Well get your swim trunks on and meet down by the dock, Umber’s got us a nice selection while the counselors get here.”
Jace sighed a bit at that. Some bud and a beer would be nice. He shimmied on his red trunks and sandals, putting his best foot forward. He was the alpha somewhat now, had to exude authority. The Velaryon had no idea how his cousins, one a drunken slob and the other an uppity seminarian could exude so much confidence.
Down on the dock, Big John Umber was lighting a pipe, booming, “Jace! My boy! Get over here and have a puff!” Jacaerys grinned, “Yessir, how’ve you been this year?” He took two greedy puffs of the potent herb and held until exhaling with a couple of coughs. Umber’s big hand clapped his back as he replied, “Business is booming son, spent the whole year in Miami!”
Jacaerys waved and nodded at familiar faces; Maris and Cassandra, Ben and Aly Blackwood, Alyn and Addam, then the she-demon. She waved her painted nails, long dark hair streaming down a regrettably beautiful body. The she-wolf cooed, “Jaceyyyy, you ready for camp? Then college? Gonna have to unlatch off of mommy’s tit by then.” Her hazy eyes were lidded, lips curled in sarcasm.
Jace cracked a beer open and sniffed, “Might have to fight Lucerys and Joff back for that position Stark. Sure you’re ready to go wild without Cregan’s approval.”
Cregan’s dark, sharp eyes turned to the pair. She waved a hand, “Just playing around bro, chill out, smoke some more damn.” She stuck her tongue out at Jace and leaned back, exposing more tit than he really needed to see.
He sat on the dock’s edge, humming along to the radio, feeling the buzz tickle his senses.
Soon enough more arrived and a little gathering had developed into a party, Cregan and Umber high as balls watching from their kingly wooden dock chairs. Even little Luke had finished his pouting fit to have some PBR, making a face. Jace was flirting with Cass, boasting about his college plans.
Before a little hand pushed him into the water with a laugh. Jace dunked under the chilled night water, coming up to wipe his hair back and curse, “Hey! What the fuck?” She smiled down at him and said, “Sorry, Cass looked bored. I wanted your spot.” A raucous of laughter echoed around, drunken teens.
Jace narrowed his eyes and swam around to get tossed a towel from Addam, shaking his head. Jace plunked down near the white-blonde and was passed a shot, taking the whiskey quickly. He swallowed down the burn, feeling easier. The Hull boy snickered, “Cregan’s sister has it sooooo bad for you Jace.”
He raised a brow and guffawed at such a notion. “Yeah and gas is gonna go down too!” They both laughed at that, the male humming, “Glad I get a deal on the diesel family monstrosity.” Alyn piped in, “The monstrosity is named mouse and she does a good job.”
Another shot or two was passed around, Jace beginning to feel pretty smacked. He shook his head and excused himself from the twins, “I think I’ve lived up to the family lightweight standards, and I’m gonna retire boys.”
“Awe c’mon, c’mon, we got ghost stories soon!”
He smiled and promised another night, half stumbling back to his new cabin, all to himself. He could shower! Shower! Fuck yes. Jacaerys Velaryon felt like a king. The dim porch lights blurred in his vision, the door almost there.
“Tapping n’for the night already?,” she asked softly, long hair braided back. It looked pretty. No. Bad Jace. Cregan’s sister was drunk off her ass too, eyes hazy and leaning against the wall with a too wide grin. Jacaerys snipped, “Why y’care? Want to push me n’to the water again?”
She shuffled closer, face so sharp and pretty, dark eyes enticing. “No, I wanted to get you to myself and I was making sure ya’ weren’t leavin’.”
Jace’s face suffused into a blush. He stuttered, “W-wh-Wha?” He was a big virgin. With a capital V. Berlin Wall sized V. The darker haired girl smoothed a hand up into his hair, asking, “Taken? No good hm? Whas’ the play here.”
He steadied himself, blinking some sobriety into his thoughts and said, “I’m going to go to my shower. You can turn the radio on. The rest is up to you but,” he snatched at her waist, “Quit playin’ ‘round with me.” She moaned softly, nodding.
He let her go and moved to his room, stripping inelegantly, heading straight to the shower, leaving the door cracked. It got to a steaming heat, he stepped under, sighing, his cock beginning to hang heavy between his legs.
Right.
Jace had a ridiculously sized cock. So large in fact he thought something was wrong and went to his step-father about it. Who crassly widened his pale eyes and exclaimed, “That’s a damn horse if I’ve seen one. Congrats lad. No wonder your mother loves some Strong’s.”
So usually when he got to the point of attempting to fuck a girl, they would shy away or screech in pain. But he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to fuck right now, this she-wolf was a menace.
The radio clicked on. ‘Spooky’ by Little River Band filtered into the haze, making Jace a bit woozy as more blood flew between his legs. He heard her light footsteps, then a body slid behind his own, soft tits and feminine hands sliding up Jacaerys’ taught torso.
She murmured into his ear, “When did’ja get all handsome hm? Get this,” she wrapped her hand barely around his cock and shook, “This Fuckin’ monster.” He moaned softly, leaning dark hair back onto her shoulder. “Dunno, tried to hide it today.”
He flipped her round under the spray, getting a good look at wet lashes, dilated pupils, and swollen lips. Jace stared, hands groping at her built ass, cock nudging her thigh. She pulled him forward with two hands, sculpted lips drawing Jace open. They slid tongues across another sensually, occasionally getting a little nip from her, a hand pulling at his aching member.
Jace groaned helplessly, whining and chasing her lips with wide eyes as the she-wolf pulled back. She snatched some conditioner and slathered it on his cock, Jace’s legs trembling. The brunette girl braced herself against the wall, ass up, legs tight together.
“C’mon, y’old maid, fuck the gap!”
Understanding knocked him clean in the skull, shaking hands guiding into that shining opening, gasping and stuttering her name as he fucked the man-made gap, her teasing fingers helping along. She cooed and shivered, “Y-yes, that’s it, fuck you’re perfect! N-nudge there, there, THERE!”
Jace must’ve been getting her clit based on pitchy whines and cries, her cute hands scrambling for purchase as her back arched and then gushed on his cock, pussy convulsing. She tightened her strong thighs around him on last time before dropping to her knees.
“Cum on my tits Jacey, just like those pornos you watch.”
It didn’t take long looking at her wrecked face and swollen cunt to have him painting her tits in white, some reaching her chin and lips. He heaved and choked out hoarse moans, body wearing out. He slapped a hand on the shower wall and whimpered her name when the she-wolf licked his cum off her chin— fuck, lips, moaning.
“Does your mother know,” Abba warbled. She grinned evilly, patting his oversensitive cock. Standing back up she sung, “We’re gonna have fun this summer, Jacey.” And off she went, leaving the male a shaking panting wreck. He was gonna get her ass next round.
Jace was met with a rude awakening besides a mega hangover the next morning. Stretching and shuffling to the mess hall, he waited for his duplex neighbor. She gave him a disgusted look and shoved past, giving Jace an eyeful of legs and ass in her bitty jean shorts. Her dark hair whipped around.
Oh. Jace was a bit perplexed. She was just licking his cum off her chin last night. Now the cold shoulder? Was this one of those games girls played? The brunette was a novice on the front and he certainly couldn’t go to Cregan about it.
Shuffling into the mess hall Jace managed to stomach some grits and coffee, head pounding. Addam and Alyn sat down, identical faces cheery. Those two were immune to anything. Alyn hummed, “What’s your bag? Looking like a bummer man.”
Jace took a miserable sip of his coffee. He murmured, “Do not start yelling and jumping when I start talking. Got it? Or coffee in your face.”
Cregan was off in the corner with Aly, the two seemingly close this year.
The twins nodded, eager for the skinny. Jacaerys sighed, “What does it mean when a girl gives you the cold shoulder after gettin’ ah-uh a little hot and heavy.”
“Who?!”
Jace hissed, “I said shut it! Doesn’t matter!”
Addam, the more suave of the two, “She’s playing games then, wants you to beg and grovel for her. Or…if this is who I think it is, she wants it on the DL.”
“Downlow then, but riles me up during the day. Just great,” Jace whinged while sipping his coffee. Alyn whispered something to Addam, the other nodding and they descended into giggles. A plate slammed down, the trio jumping and growing red faced.
“Morning girls, what’s the skinny?,” the she-wolf asked with a conniving look. Addam shrugged off Alyn’s red face and Jace being an idiot, “Which girl has the nicest ass, what did you expect Stark?”
“I’d assume it would be mine,” she hummed, taking an obscene bite from her banana, watching Jace. The brunette took the last bite of his apple and darted off, holding his mug of coffee, “See you guys for cleanup later!”
Jacaerys was going to explode. With anger, lust, he didn’t know what. He stomped to the little overlook on the lake he’d found as a kid, sitting on a rock. The lake was calm and lapping on the smooth rocks, sky sunny, fish flopping here and there. With every sip of his warm drink, his blood began to settle.
The crunching of leaves took that serenity and shat all over it. Stark’s sister sat next to him, a strange look on her face. Both began to speak then stopped. Jace bolted out, “I don’t know what the deal is here but I can’t handle it.”
Pretty lips frowned and she replied, “Fine, I’m sorry. It’s fun to see you get red in the face. But I can’t just change my personality around you,” she looked off into the distant, “Cregan is Cregan no matter how close you two are. I wanna keep fooling around, why not?”
Jace narrowed his eyes and held out a hand, “Fine. Just fucking around on the low. But just know I’ll get you back.” She grinned and shook his hand, stating, “You got it Velaryon.” They sat down in simple peace before the call of the speakers came, the order for clean up.
Over the next week was a flurry of inebriation, hard work, escaping Cregan’s watchful eye, and shoving away the Hull twins. He’d spend his nights learning all the ways to pleasure a woman. Jace’s favorite was face first between her strong thighs, lapping and sucking. She’d get all whiny and soft on him.
Especially when he crooked his middle finger up and she made his chin slick with arousal, Jace going back in for more, rutting into his bed frantically. He made her come so many times one night she cried and held to him until the she-wolf remembered her situation and ran away.
As the days to campers arriving drew nigh, she was a staple in his bed after their romps, the pair just chatting and smoking cigarettes. Dreams, hopes, funny stories, sad stories. He felt like he’d known the Stark sister for years by now.
They never reached full penetration, Jace utterly petrified by hurting her, as much as she begged for it. Getting head was just as nice, especially when she’d get him down her throat, the male holding her distended neck and whining helplessly, balls drawing tight so damn fast.
Then the campers came. The two would bicker and shove each other when directing the others. Not to mention the inclusion of night rounds to make sure no kids were being naughty. Occasionally they’d find some kids macking against a pine but nothing serious. The leaders were the naughty ones.
It went like this all summer. Until the very last week. The send-off dance with all the staff and the tweens moving up to counselor next week. Jace was excited and decided he would ask his girl. Which wasn’t his girl but they did everything like a couple, the whole camp had picked up on it.
Jace reluctantly asked Cregan one evening. He was shaking in his shoes, “Y-you know how your sister and I can get, but, I really like h-her.” The elder Stark deadpanned, “You’ve been at it all summer, you think I can’t tell that? She likes you a lot too, go for it. I wouldn’t want any other man to have her hand for this dumbass dance.” Jace grinned and pulled Cregan into a brotherly hug, thanking him tremendously.
He would wait until later to spring the question on her. Jace may have gone a bit overboard, flowers from the woods and twigs spelling out, “Be mine?” Aly loaned some candles and he was set, waiting. The door opened to his cabin and there she stood, gorgeous as always.
She took in the surroundings and stifled a laugh, eyes wide. “W-what’s all this?,” she questioned, snorting again. Jace’s heart and smile began to fall, she seemed to dislike this. He murmured, “I asked Cregan, he doesn’t care, wanted to take ya to the dumbass dance as a last ride, c’mon?”
“You went and asked Cregan? Really? What is this? My silly engagement proposal? Fuck you Jace! We knew what this was from the beginning!,” her dark hair tossed about as she hissed again, “Don’t fucking talk to me again!”
The door slammed shut. The radio turned to some cheery disco song. Fuck Suzi Quatro. Stumblin’ in to what? A brick wall, in the trans am at 120mph. Jace, stunned, sat down on his bed. He wiped away a stupid tear, steadying himself.
“FUUUUUUUUuuuuUUUUUCK.”
Okay, maybe he felt better now. Jacaerys Velaryon would just have to do like he did last year, pining over a different girl then. Get blackout drunk and puke in the grass. Then get back and go way too hard on the dance floor, maybe Cassandra would let him have a squeeze. Blegh.
Jace moped his week away, some of the kids asking why he wasn’t with his ‘girlfriend’. He’d snap, “Back to the ropes course! She’s not my girlfriend!” A snap of the line and the little shits would go scrambling. Meanwhile the she-wolf ignored him utterly and completely. Not even to jab or play a trick. Nose up and eyes away, not responding to any teasing.
He tried to get her attention once and she simply crossed lean arms and stared until he got the point and shuffled away. Pure torture this was. Alyn and Addam exchanged confused glances, they had no clue on what pissed her off so bad. Addam clapped Jace’s shoulder and laughed, “Girls man! Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
But Jace worried about it, pacing his wooden floor the night of the dance, all dressed up. By that he meant a linen shirt and some nicer shorts. Luke probably had a damn silk disco top on. The brunette dabbed on some cologne, ignoring his wild hair. He hoped she went home or something.
The dance was awkward and filled with the smell of sweaty teenagers and weed. Cassandra offered a flask and said, “Looks like you need it, sorry bout’ ya girl.” Jace took the heady drink to the dome, swallowing down the burn, finishing it. He shook his head and garbled, “Sorry,” then shuffled away.
The buzz kicked in but Jace felt more moody than anything. Luke’s silk shirt did bring a slight smile to his face. Same with Cregan’s brotherly hug and promise, “She’ll come around.” But the music and happiness wasn’t seeping into his bones.
Grabbing a beer the eldest Velaryon went to his spot by the lake. It was much quieter out here, only crickets chirping, faint music emanating from the mess hall. He found his rock and sipped on the beer, stuck in his thoughts. Beer bottle still sealed by his plush lips, Jace caught a glimpse of lights over by his duplex cabin.
Taking a gulp and placing down the bottle he stared at the dim light, an aching feeling crawling up from his belly to chest. Longing. God. He was so dreadfully in love. Taking one more swig he disposed of the bottle and trudged to her side of the cabin.
The door was ajar, Blondie singing about that glass heart. Jace pushed the door open and raised his brows. There she was, pinning a banner up. Per usual the female snapped, “I wasn’t done yet you dunce!”
‘Sorry for being a bitch’
She stepped down and gestured, face aflame, “Well. Here it is.”
Jace noted the trembling in her bravado, the multiple discarded outfits, even a curling iron was steaming on a dresser. She never did her hair or wore make-up. “Are you going to say something or stare? I know I’m a piece of shit!”
Lean arms began to wrap around herself, shying away.
“No, no! Just surprised!,” Jace crawled onto the bed and pulled her to straddle him, taking in that familiar beauty. She blushed and turned her head, but little hands curled under and behind to grab his shoulders. The she-wolf murmured, “I’m really sorry— I’ve never felt this way about anyone and I freaked out. I know I’m crazy…but that was shitty. I-I’ve always held the cards?”
Jace grabbed her chin to look at her long lashes and rouged cheeks, sighing, “You are crazy. But I forgive you. A valiant effort by the way, but you always look pretty to me.” She huffed, Jace smiling and nibbling at sharp jaw. “I don’t do makeup for anyone,” the other brunette stated.
“You gonna keep talking or kiss me sweetheart?”
Stark jerked her gaze towards Jace and took charge eagerly, hands moving to grab his face. Ah great, the radio was on the Doobie Brothers. Sexy time initiated— Jace internally cringed. Their lips sealed eagerly, finding a familiar pattern before Jace licked into her mouth. He got a breathy sigh, an arch closer into his frame.
He grabbed her pretty ass and squeezed, dragging her across his already aching cock. The she-wolf gasped and whined into his maw, lapping harder afterwards, humping him desperately. Jace thumbed a sensitive pulse point on her long neck before sliding a hand under her crochet top— no bra to be found.
Now he had something to work with, both hands relocating to her tits, tweaking and pulling at sensitive buds. She yanked off the top in a flurry, going to work unbuttoning Jace’s linen shirt, kissing her way across tanned skin. He shimmied the top off to push his she-wolf into the bed, him growling at her forced moan.
He rutted into her clothed cunt, the little hotpants doing nothing to hide. Jace rumbled against her ear, “Does it feel good, letting someone else have the cards?” She stuttered a retort— gone squeak as he pulled up on the front of her shorts.
“Fuck yes it feels g-good, get ‘em off!”
Jace grinned, that pretty pussy he missed so much…wet and swollen for him. Him. Only Jace. Sliding back to her chagrin, the male unbuttoned and pushed down his shorts and boxers, heavy member dripping with arousal. Eyes hazy but determined she moaned, “That- ugh- fucking monster is going inside me. Stud.”
Jace nodded, barely catching the bottle thrown at him. He looked down and smirked, a bottle of lube sat in his calloused hands. Jace casually put it aside and hummed, “Gotta get my pretty girl ready first hm?”
The girl almost shrieked when familiar lips met eachother again, Jace lapping and suckling her clit. He sighed, “Y-you’re so fuckin’ wet baby.” She shoved him back down, thighs shaking. Jace flicked his tongue as one, two, three all eventually fit into her tight pussy. Sloppy noises outweighed the background drift of music.
Stark cried and shivered, “Ah-haaah, Jace, fuuuck! Another, Jus’ one more! So close.” He could almost cum right then at her broken voice. Easing a pinky inside, she gasped and shuddered, coming undone when Jace flicked the sensitive spot under the hood of her clit and fucked all fingers up in the way she liked.
“Jace! Jace! Fucking god!,” she hollered.
He kept his mouth wide open for her gush of arousal, moaning and slurping eagerly, until she whimpered and shied backwards. Jace simply took his essence covered hand and jacked his cock a couple of times. He eyed her sated look and asked, “Still want this baby?”
“Uh-huh,” she rasped, legs wide open, cunt twitchy and still shining with arousal.
Jace slathered himself further down with the KY, even taking time to work her stretched opening, earning the cutest little noises. Now pressed on top, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, they stared intensely. She thumbed his cheek and murmured, “I really, really care for you Jacaerys. M’sorry for freaking out. I could probably spare this for later but,” he kissed her gently, hands smoothing up and down soft skin.
“S’okay, I promise, I care for you so much. Now just relax, we both gotta make this work okay?”
Another kiss and Jace led the heavy blunt tip to her soaked entrance. Oh god. He can’t believe this was happening. He tucked his cheek next to the fellow brunette to listen for anything, lacing fingers with her own. It was a big stretch, her panting going hoarse as the first few inches slid in.
Fucking hell. She was like Heaven, so tight n’ silky hot. She gasped, “K-keep goin’ Jacaerys, c’mon.” Soon the fattest part of his length was deep inside, cockhead nearing her cervix. One more push and they were snug as possible— joined completely. In a sweaty tangle of limbs, half-mewling cursed and sweet words.
She kissed him deeply, licking into Jace’s mouth, sighing, “I can feel you, hell, so ah deep.” He could feel it too, the lump in her lower belly. Puffing softly he asked, “Can I? Can I try?” Another peck to sweeten the deal.
“Go for it stud, be gentle.”
He slid back inch by agonizing inch, mouth open with helpless moans of her name. Every inch of her cunt was pulling along him, wanting to suck back in. Then gathering his wits, Jace forced himself up, the she-wolf mewling in glee. Unsteady at first, Jace developed a good pace, sweat dripping down his back, and god knows what leaving his mouth.
She scratched and cried at his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around slim hips. She warbled, “S’good, only you, only you stud, fucking me so good.” Jace’s hips stuttered at that, picking up the pace before he blew from her just being…sexy. Soft slick noises developed into full-on slaps and squeals.
Jace rambled, “Tight- s’tight- ohgodyoursoperfect! Ohhh-only mine!”
He was falling apart fast, balls tight and nerves on fire to bust a nut. She swirled lithe fingers around where they were joined then to her clit, crying and carrying on. Jace rapturously watched— her fingers, their copulation, the belly bulge. In a frenzy he pulled out with a load groan, painting her legs and the bed with loads of spunk.
Unable to catch his breath, Jace flopped onto his belly, leg still woven with his girl’s. The pair rested for a minute, music filling the peaceful void. A raspy voice and warm body curled over to him, her nosing his hair. Practically purring she cooed, “Couldn’t have been better. Too sweet. They make you Velaryon’s different.”
Jace huffed a laugh, rolling her onto his belly, “Was is good enough you’ll call or write me when we go off? If I remember…that stuffy girl’s school isn’t too far from mine.”
Her sculpted lips curled upward, “A hop and a skip they say. Gotta get the lads from somewhere. I’ll be around.”
He grinned and squeezed her. Damn Starks.
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itsbenedict · 6 months
Text
BP Postmortem post 2 bc/image limit
Don't read this unless you've read the first one already! There's a 30-images-per-post limit and I had to split it up! Opening this readmore will immediately spoil lots of stuff and be confusing.
So, right. Nolan. Didn't that guy die? Case 1 killer?
Well, you see... that wasn't Nolan Cubbins. Not a very Brazilian name, was it? So... who's this kid?
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That's Lucas Rossi, Davi's younger brother and host of "Bullet Proof", the fourth-most-popular Enoshima knockoff killing game on the air! (And the most popular one being broadcast in English!) While there's a whole production crew on the ground that edits together the footage, he's the host and director on-set.
Why's he doing this? Well... for the money, mainly.
Lucas met Junko Enoshima while she was doing a despair tour through Brazil. He'd been a student activist at the time, and student activists were sort of her favored prey, and what should have happened is that he was brainwashed like basically everyone else who ever met her. And that is what happened, until he went home to Davi and tried to spread the gospel of despair and Davi was like, what the fuck? And did some brain surgery to his little brother to erase the memory of meeting Junko.
After finding out what'd happened to him, and being deeply deeply discomfited by how malleable he turned out to be in the face of superpowered charisma, he developed a pretty intense hatred of her and the whole despair cult! He eventually connected with the Future Foundation, and found... that the Future Foundation was underfunded and needed more resources to put a stop to the apocalypse. They needed money. A lot of it.
So... Lucas got into showbiz. Despair-based entertainment was like, the only thing anyone cared about anymore, for some impossible reason, and lots of people had life savings they no longer cared about because life is pointless and only Despair matters, so... it was easy to play to the crowd. With Davi's help, he was able to put together some very convincing bloodsport and execution videos, but... the apocalypse is a tough environment for indie payment processors, so they had an audience, but not much money.
That's when the Bright Conglomerate reached out with a big budget and big plans to convert a flying Hope's Peak safehouse into a staged deathgame. They'd have top-of-the-line equipment, a whole production staff, and a major corporation working to adapt to the economic realities of the despair apocalypse and ensure cashflow. Lucas and Davi would get a cut of the revenue, and it'd be a lot of revenue- which he'd be able to divert to the Future Foundation in hopes of putting all this madness to rest.
So they flew up there and took over, thanks to Gwen and Sakura not bothering to turn on most of the ship's defenses, and Henry running interference. They initially tried to negotiate with Will Bookerton (still an adult at that point, trying to root out whoever had taken over Monokuma and started some sort of cockamamie Deception Game), and... faced opposition. Will didn't trust the tech, Henry wanted to cultivate more of a family-friendly image for the show which was insane and counter to the whole idea, and ultimately Lucas had Davi erase their memories so they couldn't interfere with production. It was all going to go perfectly!
And it went perfectly! A smash hit! Made billions! Bullet Proof was a reality TV craze that swept the, uh, anarcho-despairist perpetual riot that they had instead of a nation by that point.
Y'know, for the first couple seasons. Until season 3, when Lashauna shoved this dipshit off the top of the school building and his head got pulped on impact:
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This was sort of a crisis point. Davi was forced to confront the reality that his skills couldn't undo every murder that happened on the show, and that the charade would have a cost in human lives. And a reality TV star dying in an accident during filming would be a huge scandal for a normal show!
But obviously this led to a huge jump in ratings with the show's core demo, so there was a bit of a moral dilemma there.
Lucas, in charge, ultimately decided... by the numbers, it was worth it. One fatal accident every so often, in exchange for funneling millions to stop the apocalypse where hundreds of thousands of people were dying every day? It... made sense, right? It was worth it. The show must go on.
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Agnesi Wu Jessie Bai, until this point, was in the same boat as Raymond and Lilakali- a genuine Hope's Peak student who voluntarily assisted with the production of Bullet Proof. When she thought no one was really in any danger thanks to Davi's miracle resurrection tech, she was in league with Lucas to help fund the Future Foundation, and was happy to play the heel a bit to make the show more exciting. But, uh... once it became clear that people were actually dying, she wanted nothing more to do with it, and they started wiping her memory just like Henry and the rest. Still, there exists footage of her confessing to being the mastermind from earlier seasons, which was going to show up in case 5 as a misdirect.
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So people kept dying off. And they needed replacements for the dead students, so there'd be enough suspects, of course. So they imported some fake Ultimates.
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Martha and Vic were what they called "Murder Geniuses"- prolific killers who, after succumbing to despair, performed highly public and dramatic killings without suffering repercussions. Martha had formed an impromptu military unit that had dominated an entire city, and Vic was a prolific serial killer known as the Gumball Maniac. Bullet Proof's production crew managed to capture them, revert them to teenagers, and erase their memories of despair- adding some bigshot celebrities to the cast. I forget if I set this up in the adventure, but there was going to be another misdirect with the Hope's Peak student records, where their profiles would be missing- casting suspicion on them as mastermind candidates.
So... remember that one time I posted these, and was like "one of these is an actual evil mastermind design, hee hee hoo hoo"?
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HAHA! GOTCHA! They were all actual evil mastermind designs! Kinda... bad ones, in retrospect, but whatever.
Anyway... it didn't take too long before the show caught the eye of Cyrus Bookerton, who was supposed to be headmaster of the school. He saw Billy on TV and was freaked out- deciding that it was worth opening up his safehouse and sending his daughter, ???? Bookerton, Ultimate Impostor, to rescue her older brother and put a stop to this.
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"Alice", in one of her earlier guises, posed as an intern at the production studio on the ground. As she was eager to get involved, she was eventually sent up to assist Lucas, Davi, Lilakali, and Raymond as a replacement student on the show.
She pretended Lucas was her hero, in her guise as an ascended fangirl working her dream job. He spilled everything to her, explaining how everything was to divert money to the Future Foundation and save the world. They were very close!
And as a result of them being very close, she noticed something. She noticed that Lucas had given up. Compromise after compromise made to keep the show on the air and the money coming in had worn him down, and he'd stopped really caring about where the money was going. Despair was beginning to get to him, the longer those Future Foundation millions went without saving the world. Nothing seemed to be changing, but all he could do was keep doing what he'd always done. He didn't really believe in what it was all for anymore. And... he'd gotten very good at doing his job.
So she went to go do what she was sent there to do. Kill Davi Rossi, put an end to Bullet Proof, and rescue her brother.
Only she got caught and failed.
She'd set up a bomb in the lab, but was caught red-handed and forcibly sedated and mindwiped. Because she'd been a double agent for so long, Davi had to do a pretty complicated mind-wipe, making swiss cheese of her memory so she'd only remember rehearsing her various cover identities. She was left only with the memory of being Alice Bayko, SHSL Stage Magician, normal student at Hope's Peak Academy. (Or Alistair Bayko, or Charlie Range, or Diana Ingenue, depending on what the player selected at the start of the game.) Demoted from showrunner/double agent to hapless cast member- with a suite of fuzzy and awkward half-remembered memories bleeding through.
After that... well, Lucas trusted her a lot. She helped run a bunch of seasons of the show, and her betrayal really got to him. In a fit of paranoia, he decided to become a shadow mastermind, operating from behind the scenes of behind the scenes, so that Raymond and Lilakali couldn't betray him too. No more mistakes like this one! Delete him from their memories, make them think it'd just been the two of them that whole time. Keep that Nolan Cubbins kid on ice- he'd take his place, and then...
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...after posing as an easily-caught culprit in case 1, he'd get harpooned during his execution, and then... reeled back into the ship, where Davi would patch him up ahead of schedule. A perfect disappearing act.
As for Alice- getting mind-wiped wasn't an outcome she failed to anticipate.
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It was always possible she'd get captured and mind-wiped. And if that happened, someone needed to finish the job. The state-of-the-art custom Monokuma droid she'd been set up with as part of her cover identity: Flopsy-Turvy. She'd programmed it with instructions to kill Davi and then self-destruct, destroying his lab and making it impossible for Bullet Proof to continue.
She didn't think to program it not to catch Billy in the blast, though, who happened to be infiltrating that very same lab via the secret passage he built in the first place.
I really hadn't figured out how I was going to present this whole setup to the players deductively, to be honest, but that's the upshot of Case 5: Determining that Flopsy-Turvy was the culprit, and by extension Alice.
And then Lucas, whose mental state at the time is best-represented by this TMBG song...
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...executes Alice in a fit of rage and betrayal.
That's about as far as I had planned. I knew I wanted there to be some sort of case 6, getting into the backstory with Lucas and Henry and all the other backstory details that weren't explored in case 5, but I didn't have any clear plans- maybe some kind of action scene as Lucas's control over the guns and security systems goes up against the whole class working together to evade his defenses and subdue him, shot like an execution? And then an ending where the survivors take over the airship and fly off into the sunset with a vague intent to save the world somehow? Most of the dead would still be in Davi's tanks and hypothetically recoverable, if they found some other Ultimate Doctor. I didn't really have the ending nailed down from there, except that...
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...with Alice dead, I was going to have Jo take off the incongruently feminine costume and reveal the ahoge, becoming the new protagonist. It's a rule of Danganronpa that the protagonist has to be a boy with a stupid hair doinker thingy! Joe Alejo, Ultimate Hope!
I was setting up a bunch of Gender stuff with Jo leading up to this protagonist reveal- when Davi's Monokuma was going to show up to treat the wound Martha suffered from Gwen's saw trap, he was going to notice Jo was binding with Ace bandages and be like. No. Honey. Come on. Here's my old binder from before I used my necromancer powers to trans my gender. That's so unsafe.
(Which... in retrospect, wouldn't have made sense? Surely this season isn't the first one in which Jo had a gender journey, and Davi who was responsible for reanimating them a bunch of times wouldn't have failed to notice this. Hrm. Would find a way to rewrite that moment in the reboot.)
That is... I think that's everything! Aside from... a few changes I was going to make in the reboot.
Reboot changes
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One was going to be that... I was going to just cut Violette and Caleb. Violette's shtick was too annoying to write consistently, and Caleb was kind of me working through some religious baggage that I'm kinda distant from at this point.
To replace Violette as case 1's victim, I was going to build up to case 3's super tragic thing with Lashauna and Mill some more. To do this, I was going to split Dominique into two different characters.
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Dom had... a couple of weird things going on with him. The initial conception of his shtick was... completely cishet guy who acted all camp and flamboyant because he just liked messing with people. The kind of guy who's, like, absolutely homophobic, thinks queerness is deviant and disgusting- but thinks deviant and disgusting people are so funny to laugh at that he supports them anyway? Joins in on the bit? Like being gay is the funniest joke he can think of? A little extremely confused, and doesn't got the spirit at all, but somehow the same energy anyway?
Plus, like- Dominique was like, late twenties, absolutely not a real high-schooler, and Lashauna was... I want to say like, 18? Definitely too young for him, but also she's his boss so there was a weirdass power dynamic that definitely wasn't healthy in some direction or other- and it definitely wasn't a good look to have the camp gay guy be sort of a sexual predator.
That was always a really awkward bit to write, and I ended up not really committing to it at all. So instead he just sort of ended up... like, a normal stereotypical camp gay hairstylist guy? And then he died before there could really be any exploring any of the fucked-up parts of his character. It didn't really work.
So instead, we've now got Dominique Locke, Ultimate Stylist, and Nick Martin, Ultimate Gambler.
Dominique is just straight-up genderfluid, a shy and untalkative kid who uses their hairstyling and makeup skills to modulate their gender performance on a moment-to-moment basis. They get the hair-changes-every-portrait shtick, and get killed in case 1 only to come back alive in case 5.
Nick, meanwhile, gets most of the scummier elements. He's the homophobic one in charge of the Diamonds who colludes with Henry re:crime stuff and dies in case 2's double murder. This guy's very clearly not a teenager by any stretch of the imagination, and technically neither is Lashauna in this iteration, though I still want to have like, the too-young-but-also-his-boss fucked-up power dynamic for their weird relationship.
The idea there is to build up, like... one Hit Deck member dying in both cases before case 3, to build up to Lashauna and Mill's conflict re:whether she should cut her losses and kill him to escape or try and stick it out and save her last surviving subordinate.
-
The other thing I'd do is... foreshadow the reality TV and loops thing more. Introduce impossible footage of things that didn't happen earlier, find some way to explain the rules of memory modification ahead of time, and use the Monokumas as mouthpieces more liberally. Maybe have Davi show up in person only to disappear hastily at some point, so he doesn't come out of nowhere. There's a lot of this plot that just wasn't really sufficiently foreshadowed, I think, and with this many layers to it it would definitely be doable to start peeling them back earlier.
And, of course, rework the logic of the cases more to be, uh, better. More fair and solvable with multiple roads to noticing the relevant clues. The ones I did were very much a first attempt, and I didn't really have the knack for it yet.
And that's, uh... that's it! I think that's everything. If you've got any questions, ask box is open. Thanks to everyone who read and supported Bullet Proof while I was making it!
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dzthenerd490 · 5 months
Text
Action Report: Finally Capturing SCP-4666
On 2018, it was coming close to Christmas and Site Director Eto was getting tired of the Foundation's constant chase for SCP-4666. As such he put in a request to form his own personal task force to have SCP-4666 contained once and for all. He had his request sent directly to the O5 Council, which was risky as they normally don't focus on anomalies with low casualty or media exposure risks. Though to his surprise they accepted and gave him until December 21st to have a team and plan formed to contain SCP-4666. This led to the utilization of Mobile Task Force Zeus-1 "Conduits" Division "Elementals". 
For the operation Captain Delsin Rowe along with four of his units Code Names: Fire, Lightning, Steel, and Ice. None of them are given anything more than standard Foundation suits and armor. That December by order of Site Director Eto and with the approval of the entirety of the Ethics Committe and almost an entire 1/4th of the Administrative Staff the operation was a go. Foundation observation staff on the moon were monitoring every satellite in the sky for the slightest hint at SCP-4666 activity until finally he showed up. Once they were sure it was a house targeted for attack Captain Rowe and his team were deployed immediately. 
***
SCP-4666 was outside the house and only seconds away from breaking in, he drooled as he was sure this last one of the nights was going to be the best. Though before he entered, he was reminded of that one last night where he had to fight those fucking abominations. He growled in anger as he was reminded of that horrible night and how he almost lost everything. His sacred goal, his fun, his duty, all of it could have been gone because of those fucking freaks. He busted the door down in anger and rushed in hoping to quickly get to work to get the frustration.
"Yo! What's up freak?" The Yule Man looked at the human leaning on the living room table. He scoffed and ran towards the human but suddenly the human raised his hand and a ball of fire hit him in the stomach. Suddenly he went flying out of the house and landed hard into the cold hard grown and some snow. Suddenly he found himself surrounded by four other humans. He tried getting up but suddenly his arms and legs were covered and filled with chilling ice. It wasn't just growing over his flesh but freezing his blood, his muscles, his very bones. He screamed in pain or at least tried to but his tonged suddenly was incinerated by a thousand bolts manifesting in his mouth. 
"Heh, well that was easy, hey Delsin, looks like another job well-" The Yule Man refused to accept this so he broke his hand out of the ice leaving nothing but broken bones. His hand regenerated instantly so he punched the soldier with enough force to break every bone in their body. As they went flying the other next to him tried to retaliate but the Yule Man was superior in speed and bashed their head into the ground. Suddenly the Yule Man had metal rods infused into his skin and in the next second he was hit with lighting strikes. 
The current of lighting followed through the rods in his body frying every single cell in his body. He would have accepted defeat at that point if he was a lesser being, but he was nothing like his master. He would be the one to bring the true meaning of Christmas to the entire world by blanketing the entire world in snow. To achieve such a noble goal, pain like this was nothing but an obstacle to be crushed. These annoying naught adults were no different. 
He slammed his fists onto the ground sending shockwaves through the ground and his scorched body. The result made snow and ash fly in the air making the two remaining humans blinded by it all. He punched one in the stomach hard enough to break every bone in their body. He tried punching the other but a large wall of pure steel making him break his fist on impact. Suddenly the wall flew towards him and landed on him, crushing him on the ground and shattering half the bones in his body. 
The metal on top of him started heating up and quickly melting into molten steel causing it to melt over him. The molten metal was flowing like lava giving him no chance of escape and no way of resisting. He couldn't imagine feeling pain any worse than what he was feeling right now but he knew he could just shake off the molten steel eventually. Or that was what he thought but it suddenly started cooling down and freezing up so quickly by a sudden wave of cold ice. 
The ice froze everything to the point that the steel turned hard again and froze together before any of it could break by the sudden change in temperature. Now he was completely trapped unable to break free at all as the steel melted on to his very bones preventing him from moving even a millimeter. 
"Ugh, okay I think he's actually contained this time."
"Gya! Fuck this fuck face he broke every part of my fucking spine!"
"You got off easy, you know how fucking painful it is to have your own skull break into your brain." The Yule Man could hear everything they were saying and started growling in anger. His muscles were destroyed by the molten metal from earlier, but he could still move his bones. The metal was clearly bending and breaking by his movements even if ever so slightly. 
"What the fuck?! He can still move?!"
"All of you get out of here, get those kids in the back to the nearest Foundation Area. I'll take care of the Christmas freak."
"God it boss."
"Show him what your made of Delson!" The Yule Man broke his arm out of the metal while he heard the four other adults leaving and one more approaching to continue the fight. He was enraged by this; how dare they perceive him as such a light threat. He was the one who could cover the world in snow, they should fear him as they were the naughty ones that would feel his wrath. He would make them regret retreating by ripping his new human to pieces. He finally broke out of the metal thought bits of the metal was still melted onto his body. 
It hurt a lot, but he smiled as the metal pits hanged off of his body like bits of blades and armor that fit naturally on his body. Perhaps he could get used to this new form of his and use it to more effectively kill the naughtiest of the world starting with the smirking brat in front of him. He was angered by him but since it was just one human, he didn't let it bother him too much. Even if he had magic like the others did, he could crush him if he was all by himself.
"Huh, so you're the Yule Man or whatever. Woah the others really did a number on you. You know I would feel bad for your right now if you weren't a child murderer."
"... You clearly can't comprehend my great work."
"Pfft! Great work?! That's a load of shit, what GREAT work could possibly involve torturing kids on every Christmas? You know I knew a woman who talked about saving people by imprisoning them all. You wanna know what happened to her?"
"If I had to guess, the same thing I'm about to do to you!"
"Hmph, no, it's actually what I'm about to do to you." The Yule Man frowned in anger at this cocky brat and charged at him ready to tear him to pieces. But suddenly his body was engulfed in flames, then in ice, then struct by a thousand bolts, then covered in burning neon, then sliced up by virtual blades, then stabbed by thousands of concrete blades, finally his body was filled to the brim with oil making him bloat like a balloon and his skin was covered with napalm. After a single bolt from Delson's finger he exploded, the resulting explosion was powerful enough to destroy the entire area. It was only thanks to Delson absorbing all the entire and smoke was that no humans or wildlife in the area were hurt. 
Now all that was left of the Yule Man was a smoldering skeleton that fell to its knees. The pain it felt was unimaginable, it couldn't speak, it couldn't move, it couldn't even think. Delson walked up to the Yule Man and waved his hand around just to be sure it was unable to move. Though it did twitch a little to show it was still alive and capable of regeneration.
"Huh so even that didn't kill you... Not that I wanted too, the higher ups wouldn't let me hear the end if I did that. But still, I heard what you regularly do to children you fucking piece of shit. You deserve a lot worse than that. But you know what, I'm satisfied that with this. Besides, once your locked up in a cage you'll be the Foundation's toy." The Yule Man couldn't let it end like this, once the people with the three arrows got him that would be the end. He had to activate his ring to get a portal, if he could just make a portal, he would be free. But suddenly his had was covered in ice.
"Yeah, we heard about the ring form the last attempt to kidnap you. I honestly can't believe you never once considered bolstering up your own defenses or just quitting entirely so we couldn't get you. You really are a cocky asshole; but hey, Karma's a bitch, am I right?" Delson then kicked the Yule Man in the face. 
***
The Yule Man woke up in a large room with seemingly no escape, he quickly panicked and tried manifesting a portal but for some reason nothing manifested no matter what he tried.
"Don't bother. The walls have been infused with a type of cement that nullify spatial anomalies like portals. It's also coated with an indestructible metal; you can't escape no matter what you do." The Yule Man was horrified now he was trapped for real, and this meant that so long as he was trapped here his goals would be hindered to near impossible. However, he stopped for a moment then smiled and looked up to the ceiling. He wasn't sure how those watching over him could see him, there wasn't any cameras after all. Though he could see speaker, just no cameras. 
"You really should have killed me, now you will be wasting resources trying to keep me contained which you will ultimately fail at! I know you! The jailers! You will fail and I will be there to laugh and mock you! You can't kill me! So long as I have this ring I will live forever, and you will rot while I thrive! Time is one my side! You should have taken the ring you naughty brats! Now you can never kill me!"
"... Hahaha... Oh SCP-4666, we don't want to kill you." Suddenly one of the walls started moving up, revealing a new room on the other side. 
"But in a few seconds, you're really going to wish that we did." The room was fully exposed to the room the Yule Man was in. He looked in and couldn't see anything in the dark room, though he could hear pathetic weeping. Suddenly a tall man that looked smaller and weaker than him walked forward into the light allowing the Yule Man to see him in confusion. In the next second they met eyes and SCP-096 screamed as he charged.
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How does Jungkook always end up giving tkkrs something to work with, to fuel their narratives? The list is getting bigger and bigger. How do I even blame Tkkrs for using it against jkkrs?
"I only go to his room cause it's closer", "I only film him cause he's always around", the innocent "why serendipity", "we should change units", "he's not the main model of gcf", and so much more.
Jkkrs should just give up and find another duo to ship. Lol. Jungkook is not helping their "ship".
Anon 2
Jungkook just outing everything. Man was like "why?". Bts has grown so big, don't know why they still need scripted moments. Just causing more ship wars now. I am not surprised there's always equal distribution of Taekook and Jikook moments. This explains why.
Alright tumblerinas, let's talk about this unnecessary mess you brought to my inbox. I chose these two asks because I will try to make a point here. Bear with me.
First of all, I do not give a single fuck. I saw all sorts of clips today, including this one that got people's panties in a twist and it just flew over my head without even thinking that it could become an issue.
Second of all, what do you think you're achieving by bringing this nonsense to my blog? You're merely demonstrating that you are people incapable of having thoughts more complex than those who used to paint inside caves. You're also making me realize how damn normal I am. We all have issues, but all it takes is for me to come online to make me feel better about myself. I only have to read my asks and I instantly feel that I'm smarter. It's a great confidence boost.
One of you is seriously asking why BTS still needs scripted moments. Because I assume you have no idea how a show, be it a concert or anything else in the entertainment world, is made. How there is a director, how they need an outline in order for everything to run smooth because they put a lot of effort and money and they need to deliver. And you come here, acting all mighty, when in fact you're just stupid. Or uninformed. But there is google, honey. Do you fucking research.
And yeah, Jungkook is a grade A asshole. He's this prick mastermind who likes to watch the fandom world burn and ''outs'' how a show is made. Oh my god, please all of you do that exercise of saying this out load. You really need to hear yourself and not just come up with the dumbest of takes that are either only in your head, or you share it with your like-minded people, all of you stuck in this weird version of reality in which the world is severely distorted.
As to the first anon, I don't even know what else to say to you because you're just embarasing yourself. Your level of intelligence is so low that I would feel sorry for you if I had any sympathy left. Which I don't. To not be able to make a distinction between fandoms spaces and those who become subjects of discussion in those fandoms. To not be able to understand how someone can lead a life that is so complicated due to the nature of their work, that you believe that a side of their agenda is to think that they need to be part of an elaborate plan in order to please one or another specific subsection of a fandom?
As to the examples you gave about what Jungkook said in other ocassions. Yeah, I'm not even going into that. I know you're dumb, but I don't think you're that dumb. Unless you've been living in isolation all your life, with just an internet access.
I would like to circle back to how I started this. I do not give a fuck. There is clearly a mess inside your brain and an awful lot of confusion because you're trying to look at this from some sort of weird moral standpoint, as if you're personally offended by this imaginary issue. Let me say this again. I do not care.
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kj-1130 · 3 years
Note
Hi I love your all your work and I was just wondering if u still wrote for Supergirl B!D. If you do could u possibly do a oneshot where Alex and Kara both get in an argument with B!D and they don’t make up and the next morning B!D was kidnapped and was being hurt by their enemies so they go and save her and it’s all fluffy in the end. I understand if u don’t want to do it it’s just a suggestion. I love your work 🥰
baby!danvers
warnings: mentions of torture, angst (??), uhh idk
a/n: thank you babe! i will always write for b!d/supergirl.
b!d masterlist || main masterlist
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“You were being reckless and immature.”
“I was doing my job, Alex,” you said from your spot on the couch. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
You, Kara, and Alex had finished a DEO earlier. You knew that you had made some mistakes, but you were human--it was bound to happen.
Being the younger sibling of the Director and Supergirl (not that anyone really knew about the latter), you’ve always been held to a higher standard. Your mother held you to those higher standards, your teachers, your colleagues, you did. The pressure was there and it was heavy.
Being held to this standard means having less room for accidents, leaving you with no space to make messes and properly learn from them.
You couldn’t lie, you were insecure about it. You’d never be good as your eldest Director sister and your older superhero sister. It was something that everyone always acknowledged and rubbed in your face and it always stung. You tried your hardest to get up to their level but nothing ever seemed to work and it was becoming glaringly obvious.
“What you were doing was being irresponsible. You had one job to do. One. And you couldn’t even do that.” Well that kinda stung. You just stared her while she continued ranting, Kara doing the same from her spot on the armchair. “You’re irresponsible, immature, and borderline incompetent since you couldn’t do the simplest task,” she counted off. “At this point, I’m having doubts that you can be a good agent. I have never seen someone mess up so badly.”
You looked over at your blonde sister with tears in your eyes, seeing if she was going to say anything. She only avoided your gaze. You took her silence as agreement. Nodding slowly, you stood from the couch and dug through your pocket.
“Well, I quit,” you said, voice trembling as you threw your badge onto the coffee table. “Since I’m so fucking incompetent.” You walked out of the apartment and slammed the door behind you.
“Alex,” Kara began.
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
-
“(Y/n)? Look, I'm sorry. I took it too far. I was just scared. You’re…you’re not incompetent, just…please answer the phone,” Alex sniffed and ended the voicemail, setting her phone on the table.
At that moment, Kara flew in.
“Nothing,” she said, shaking your head.
You walked out yesterday evening and no one had heard from you since. Alex just thought you needed some time to cool off--hell she needed some time herself. But your location on your phone had been turned off and according to your neighbors, you never came home.
She and Kara had been worried sick all morning. They called your friends, looked at security cameras, but nothing came up.
“Fuck, where could she be?”
“Hey,” the blonde says, placing herself next to Alex on that couch. “We’ll find her.”
“I said the most horrible things to her, Kara. She’ll never forgive me if we find her.”
“When we find her, Al,” she emphasizes, rubbing her sister’s shoulder. “We both have a lot of making up to do. And we’ll do it when we find her.”
-
Your head was pounding and not the kind that you’d have as a result of drinking. It was a throbbing pain that centered at the nape of your neck and spread around. Everything was dark and it stunk.
“I see that you’re awake.”
You whipped your head around to see who was talking.
“Now, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way,” the voice said. Then, a figure walked into your vision. They were tall and had on all black clothing. “You can tell me what I need to know about Supergirl and I’ll let you out mostly unharmed. Maybe a reward if you’re extra good,” they went on, crouching down in front of you. “But if you don’t, then…I don’t think you want to hear the details but you get the gist.”
You gulped harshly, feeling your heart starting to race.
“Who is Supergirl?”
There was silence on your end leading to you getting a harsh slap.
“Who is she?”
Silence and more hitting.
It was a game of cat and mouse. He’d ask you a question, you wouldn’t respond, and he’d hit you. Slaps eventually turned into punches and those eventually turned into electrocuting and waterboarding.
They left you after a while, leaving you in a heap on the cold hard ground. You were cold and in pain and just wanted to go home.
-
Alex and Kara had gone to the DEO, trying to see if any of the resources there would help. So far, nothing had come up.
“Wait, I think I got something,” Brainy announced, looking at his tablet. “We might’ve missed something in the initial security camera search.” he then pulled up a video from the same time they previously looked at but from a different angle. “We get a split second of his face but that’s all we need. Brandon Sykes, recently lost his daughter in a fire. The same you helped put out not too long ago, Supergirl.”
Kara looks down at the ground, feeling some blame for you getting taken.
“Here’s the largest and closest property he owns,” Brainy says, handing the device to Alex.
The woman nodded in response and immediately set into action.
“I need a team, ASAP. Bring anything you think could help--we don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s not gonna get away with this.”
No one brought up the fact that Alex probably shouldn’t be on this rescue mission seeing as it would be a major conflict of interest. She was a great boss but she could get real mean and scary if she was in the mood for it.
-
Maybe Alex was right. You weren’t a good agent. You allowed yourself to get kidnapped by a man who wasn’t even that much larger than you. You weren’t able to assess any of your surroundings to try and figure out where you were. You were utterly hopeless.
Maybe all of your peers were right. You’d never be as good as your sisters no matter how hard you tried.
Just as you were closing your eyes, ready to give up, there was a large boom. But you couldn’t seem to find the strength to keep your eyes open.
-
You woke up to rhythmic beeps. Immediately, you knew you were somewhere different as where you were being held was dead silent.
Using most if not all of your strength, you opened your eyes and glanced around--you were in the medbay. After a few moments, Alex walked in with her head looking towards a clipboard. She sensed someone staring at her so she looked up, only to meet your teary eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, rushing to your bedside with a cup of water that she grabbed.
She gently lifted you up and guided the straw to your lips, allowing you to take slow sips. When you were finished, she laid you back down, leaving you to take a breath.
“I’m sorry. I-I’ll try to be-be better and-”
“No, no, shh,” Alex instructed, combing through your hair and pushing it from your face. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s all on me, okay? What I said was out of line and stupid. You’re not any of those things, you hear me?” you nodded in response.
She then takes a seat at the edge of the hospital bed and gives your hand a gentle but firm squeeze.
“I love you,” she says, pulling your hand up to kiss the back of it. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
-_-_-_-
Taglist
@sebastian-vettels @idek-5 @sirsell @uselessgay101 @yomama010101 @atlas-nex
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fuwushiguro · 3 years
Text
This Is Your Time, Don’t Waste It
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Hawks x f!reader
Genre: Smut
notes: this is part of @/nomadmilk’s pretty little head collab! also ty to @/em-plosion to beta reading for me like an absolute goddess 💕 rly rly annoyed with tumblr not letting me add my tag list to this fic or tag anyone or add links ☹
Warnings: 18+, dubcon (sex after drinking champagne), tw semi public sex, oral (m receiving), praise kink, degradation, dumbification.
Words: 1.8k
You take after your mother. Dumb as a rock with air in your head where your brain should be. It’s okay though; because if someone gave you the choice to start your life over with a brain instead of your beauty, you’d turn them down. You have pretty privilege. And that is priceless. Who needs to be smart when you can use your good looks to get anything you need? That’s how you bagged him.
That’s how you became the number two hero’s little bimbo.
He wants a world where heroes have too much time on their hands. He won’t hesitate to take time for himself whenever he wants. Whenever you want. When he told you he was flying you out to London for the weekend, you just about died. You flew over on his private jet. You asked him why he has a private jet, since he has wings and can fly anywhere whenever he wants. His response was simple and truthful.
Do you want to run everywhere just because you have legs?
You suppose he had a point.
You enjoyed champagne together on the flight and even watched a movie. But Hawks is an insatiable man. He loves what a pretty little airhead you are. It makes him feel superior, it makes his ego swell. He talks down to you about the movie, the director, the cast, the cinematography, and he just adores how blown your eyes become because you don’t understand a single thing he’s talking about. It sends the blood pumping straight to his cock and turns him on to no describable means. He tells the staff working on the jet not to interrupt, being quite abrupt in telling them that he is going to fuck you stupid and doesn’t want to be disturbed. You’re more than happy when he drags you onto his lap to straddle him and ride his cock. It’s all you’re good for anyway, his precious little fuck hole, his sweet dumb bimbo.
You take after your mother. She might be dumb, but she used her looks and her goods to get whatever a man would offer to her. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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The streets of London are up in arms when they realise the man you’re linked with is in town. Paparazzi swarm you, girls are screaming and you can’t help but beam with pride. He’s yours, and yet, everyone else wants a piece of him so badly.
He takes you to Selfridges, you can’t believe you’re really here. You’ve always wanted to come, and your boyfriend has made it a reality. It’s beyond impressive. He called ahead to get the whole store closed down, just for you.
You’re holding hands as you enter and Hawks can’t help but smile since you look like a kid in a candy shop. You’re greeted by staff, more champagne. Hawks is holding your hand like a protective father making sure their kid doesn’t run off at the park. The inside is so beautiful, so decadent, so rich. You turn to him. His breath catches in his throat and his mouth is slightly open as he stares at you. Your eyes are sparkling, and he isn’t sure if it’s the lights in the store reflecting or a genuine glimmer in your delighted gaze. He smiles, you really are so pretty.
“Run wild baby, anything you want is yours.” he tells you.
He didn’t think your eyes could possibly widen any more, but they do. You let out a squeal and kiss his cheek before you strut off to your first department. He knows he’s it’s gonna be a long day. Anything for his dumb little baby.
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You’re almost impressed to see that fans have been waiting for your boyfriend outside of the store since you entered almost eight hours ago. They hate you, but you don’t care. You can’t hear the hate over the sound of your boyfriend whining while he cums into your hole each and every night, so it means nothing to you. Their noses are smashed against the store windows, you can see paparazzi too. You are first to be seen by them all so they become antsy. But when they spot him they become wild. He grunts, he doesn’t have patience for any of the nonsense tonight. There are phones being pointed through the windows everywhere you look, and you know there’ll be more at every angle as soon as you step out. You’re scrolling Twitter as your boyfriend thinks of a plan, you spot video footage of the two of you already posted on the app. You show Hawks and he smiles.
“So, you like the limelight huh baby?”
You’re blushing, embarrassed that you’re so obvious.
“Come on, let’s give them something to talk about.” he tells you, grasping your hand to lead you outside.
The screams, the flashes, the ambiance, it’s all intoxicating. He doesn’t pose, so neither do you. Instead, you follow his lead as the local police do their best to keep the fans and tabloids back. You look ethereal by your boyfriends side. Bags and bags with the Selfridges logo on covering your arms. Even Hawks is holding a few for you. You look perfect by his side. The perfect pretty eye candy who’s spending his money.
It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
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While Hawks is driving his new Aston Martin, you’re scrolling your social media feeds to see what people are saying and what you look like in the photos. Of course all of the pathetic little fan girls are saying you’re fat, ugly, a slut and everything else they can think of, but who cares. They’re just jealous after all. But the actual media is giving you nothing but praise. They’re saying the outfit you chose to wear was classy and you look radiant next to your equally attractive boyfriend. It makes you happy that you’re receiving so much approval from the world for your relationship, since it makes your boyfriends life that much easier. Hawks is pleased too, but nothing would stop him seeing you either way.
He parks up by a side road just to take a breather and let his mind shut off for a minute. It’s been a busy day for both of you, and you babbling incessantly about how much fun you have had is a lot to handle.
“Kei, what do you think of… where is it?” you mumble as you search through multiple Selfridges bags, “Ah!” you speak, pulling out a black box with Christian Louboutin engraved on the front. You pull out a cold glass bottle filled with pink translucent goo. You’ve seen these lipsticks and glosses so many times on Instagram from different celebrity accounts; you never thought you’d own one yourself.
“It’s gorgeous sweetheart,” he spoke over enunciating, coddling you and your excitement, “how much was it?”
“£60, I know it’s sounds like a lot, but look,” you began. In an instant your lips were pouted and you were covering them in your new gloss. You rubbed your lips together ensuring it got into all of the little cracks and then smiled at your boyfriend. “It’s such a nice colour and I can wear it with anything… so it’s worth it.” it was almost like you were trying to convince yourself more than him. But he shook his head, he didn’t mind the cost. It was a genuine question out of curiosity.
“You’re worth every penny baby, always.”
His kind words made you squirm, you began squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the building tension at your core. He’s been such a good boyfriend to you and today has been the best day of your life. You want to repay him, so you lean over and kiss his lips.
“Can I show you how grateful I am?” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. You both smile into each other’s mouths and kiss some more. He nods and your nimble fingers make quick work of his belt. Frenzied kisses halt as you focus on freeing his cock. It’s cute, really, how dumb your face becomes when you see his shaft spring out from his trousers. You’re staring so hard you forget what you’re doing, a little bit of drool pools on the corner of your lips and dribbles onto his thigh.
“Hey,” he speaks, scooping the dribble from your face with his index finger and shoving it back in your mouth, “save that for when you’re suckin’. What’s the hold up sweetheart? Aren’tcha grateful anymore?” he chastises playfully, you shake your head and take his length in your mouth. “Oh ­– fuck – slow down.”
“Can’t,” you say, removing yourself from him, “need you.”
Hawks begins to drive to find somewhere more secluded for you to carry on working him. He parks in a shady as hell alleyway, picking you up and forcing you on his lap. He wants you on your knees outside of the car, he needs more space.
“Look at you baby, lookin’ dumber than usual, my cock makes you real stupid h-huh?” he stuttered as your mouth was like heaven to him, draining him of more precum that you didn’t hesitate to use to your advantage.
He kept moving your hair from your face so that you could do the best job possible. It took everything he had to not force you down on him, he was so desperate and needy, just like you. You were dying for him to fuck you even stupider, but you wanted to treat him for being so perfect.
“So pretty with a dick in your mouth. Looks so pretty with the lip gloss I bought you…” he cooed. The praise went straight to your cunt and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last without being filled up.
The grip he had on your hair tightened, your eyes rolled back as he finally pushed your head down until he was almost at your throat.
“Through your nose baby.” Hawks said with a groan, rubbing his thumb endearingly against your cheek. You pulled in a deep breath, trying so hard to be good for him. “That’s it,” he smirked, head falling back with a sigh, “dumb little angel can’t think with her hero’s big cock stuffing those sweet lips.”
Your sucking became sloppier, messier, noisier. The lewdness made Hawks’ toes curl, he was writhing around like he was fighting it, fighting the urge, fighting the impending orgasm. But when you took him in all the way to the back of your throat, he immediately blew his load down your oesophagus. Pretty mixed whines of your name and, oh fuck I’m cumming filled the eerie night air as he used your throat as a little fuck toy. He was panting for a while and you kissed his thigh as you got up and sat back on the passenger side. You let him take the time to relax by yet again scrolling your socials.
You were going to get some unimpressed looks as you entered the luxurious and expensive hotel Hawks had booked for your stay in London. Your hair was a mess. Your new lip gloss was smeared all over your face. Black mascara ran down your cheeks, your eyeshadow and eyeliner were smudged and you had to take your fake strip lashes off since they were hanging by a thread. And your mouth smelt like a combination of your boyfriends cock, sperm, and the tic-tacs you were sucking to try and cover up the former.
But you didn’t care.
Because your boyfriend is the number two hero.
And you’re his pretty little bimbo.
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© 2021 fuwushiguro
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Text
Family Cuddle Pile
a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby
Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince
Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing
Word count: 1,844 
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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 
He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 
His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.
Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 
Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 
Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 
He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 
The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!
Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.
He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.
Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 
“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 
Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 
“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 
“When’s verge-“
“he’ll be home at 4” 
“Dope”
“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”
“Can do scootal-lo!” 
Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 
“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 
“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 
Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 
“That’s really good pat-” 
“Shhhhhhhh”
Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 
---------------------------------------------------------------
“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 
Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 
“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 
Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 
A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.
A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for
“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”
“Puddle” Patton screeched. 
“Kid’s right, Puddle.”
Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 
Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 
Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 
Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 
The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 
The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 
The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 
Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 
Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 
When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 
Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 
----------------------------------------
Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 
He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 
Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 
Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 
The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 
Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.
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aravas-writing · 3 years
Note
(Secret Star AU)
Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"
Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...
She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!
She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.
Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.
Who the hell did he think she was?!
Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.
Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.
Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.
The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.
Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!
Right, she was supposed to be a raver...
Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.
...wait, how would one dance rave?
Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.
Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.
And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.
As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.
'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.
She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".
A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.
Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.
But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.
He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.
Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.
Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.
Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.
He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.
Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.
So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.
Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.
A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.
Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.
To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!
Dammit, she was so turned on!
His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.
Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...
"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.
She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!
A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.
Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...
"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"
As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.
"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"
As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.
As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.
"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"
"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.
She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...
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maeve-writes · 3 years
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Heroes
Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers
Rating: 18+, Minors DNI 
Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.
Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes. 
a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?
You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.
It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers. 
Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.
Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.
“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.
You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.
Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.
“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”
That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.
His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.
You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm. 
While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.
The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.
Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.
When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.
“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.
“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory. 
Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone. 
The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.” 
Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”
It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”
Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue. 
The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside. 
Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed. 
Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged. 
Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild. 
“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves. 
You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests. 
Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.
You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.
Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”
“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement. 
“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.
“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously. 
“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”
“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.
You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.
“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.
He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him. 
The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress. 
“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.
To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.
Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights. 
Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention. 
His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go. 
But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold. 
During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.
Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.
Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.
“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”
“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”
“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.
a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!
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Text
Call You Mine
Summary - When Y/N meets Jensen on the set of Supernatural, her life takes an unexpected turn. Never in her wildest dreams, Y/N thought that their casual friendship will change into something sinful after they shoot a risqué scene together one night.
Pairing - Jensen x Y/N, Jensen x OFC!Millie
Warnings - Angst, infidelity, mentions of guilt and despair, explicit mention of extramarital affairs, SMUT 18+ minors DNI (p in v, fingering, dirty talk), slight mention of Dom!Jensen (it's very slight), fluff, a happy ending.
WC - 3052
Square Filled - Free Space ( @supernatural-jackles' Tell Me A Story Bingo); Song Based Fic ( @spnmixedbingo )
A/N 1 - This is a submission for @tvdspngirl314's challenge. My prompt was "I met a girl, we talked, it was epic."
Also this is a submission for @negans-lucille-tblr's "7Ks of the Week Challenge" (Congratulations on your 7k)
@deangirl93's 500 followers challenge (congrats on your 500). My prompt was the song "I Can't Quit You Baby". All prompts are in bold.
A/N 2 - This is a work of pure fiction and irl I absolutely do not support the act of cheating in a relationship. No hate towards the Ackles fam. I love Danneel and for the sake of the fic, Jensen is married to an OFC and not Dee.
Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks, hon <33)
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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I can't quit you baby
So I'm gonna put you down for awhile
I said I can't quit you baby
I guess I gotta put you down for awhile
“Jensen...” The name rolled off her tongue effortlessly as the man’s fingers danced across her bare skin, his electrifying touch leaving Y/N breathless, panting and begging for more. The very touch of his that had started it all.
Everyone always expressed how being in love was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but no one ever spoke about the perils of being in love with a person who already belonged to someone else. The ring on Jensen's finger served as a wistful and painful reminder of that.
As soon as the doors had closed, the actor had backed up Y/N against the elevator, letting her see the need in his eyes. His hands had sneaked behind her, his fingers entangling with the strands of her hair, completely messing the hairstyle she had pulled off for the m&g panel in the evening. Her hands landed on his biceps, trying to steady herself. Their lips moulded together so perfectly as if they were made for each other, but it pained Y/N to think that she was nothing but his dirty mistress.
Their relationship, if she could even call it one, was all about clandestine meets, stolen stares and subtle touches. Jensen was like a drug for her and she was high on the thrill of being with him even if he was gone in the morning, leaving her behind with nothing but guilt.
Jensen had closed the door of the suite behind him as they stepped into Y/N’s room together. With lips swollen from their heavy makeout in the elevator, he wasted no time as she found herself pinned to the wall by the actor's strong hands. In the fairly lit room, she noticed his wedding band was now missing. Y/N knew Jensen and his wife's relationship was on the rocks even before she had started to work on the SPN set. Which was also the reason why few months ago, the hide-and-seek between them and the hungry paps with cameras had started.
Hands on her hips, Jensen had pulled her close on the set, more than the director demanded it. That night, he had found himself standing inside her trailer, after the fated shot. The heart wants what it wants and just as the saying went, they had given in to their burning desires. In a moment of weakness, Jensen had broken off every single one of his vows and destroyed any hope of salvaging his relationship with his estranged wife.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jensen ripped her blouse off, unhooking her bra quickly, barely containing his eagerness before stepping out of his own jacket. Y/N clutched at the ends of the counter, knocking off the magazines lying on top of it and draping her other arm around Jensen's firm body. He delicately cupped her face as his mouth devoured hers. She could taste the mint and coffee on his lips feeling his teeth graze roughly against her, making her moan into him. The actor pushed her legs apart with his knees and stood close between her thighs as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.
In desperate need of air, they momentarily separated before Jensen dipped his head down again, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck. Y/N’s legs buckled under his hypnotic touch when his mouth found her pulse point and she supported herself against his body. Jensen's hands moved down to her breasts, kneading them. His fingers caressed her hard nipples before his mouth latched onto one sensitive bud.
“Jay, please-” Y/N could only form two words as Jensen flicked her nipple while his fingers worked on the other one, spurring her on. Words weren't quite necessary, cause the man knew exactly what she needed. He knew her every tic, her every emotion like the back of his hand and Y/N was aware of that fact as well. No one could ever worship her body like he did.
Jensen was still wearing the black polo shirt, his noticeable bulge painfully straining in his jeans. She felt her wetness dampening the fabric of her panties as she thrusted her hips forward in need of some friction, her heated core brushing against his bulge.
Pulling apart for a second, Jensen’s viridian eyes studied her as his hands sneaked under her skirt. He watched her intently as she sucked on her bottom lip, closing her eyes when his fingers grazed past her soakedpanties.
A moan escaped her wet lips when Jensen's fingers hooked themselves with the waistband and in one swift pull, got rid of the panties. It quickly glided down her legs, pooling at her feet. He teased her by flicking at her bundle of nerves, making her lean her head back against the wall.
Y/N swayed on her feet a little, her hold on his shoulders tightening as she finally felt her legs give away when his fingers rubbed circles on her clit.
“Fuck-” she panted as he pushed a single finger inside her.
“Have you been thinkin’ about me all day?” Jensen leaned towards her ears, his scruff grazing across her neck. Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, eyes still squeezed shut in sheer ecstasy.
“Sweetheart, use your words.” He ordered as his finger curled inside her.
“Yeah-fuck, yes.” Jensen kissed below her ear, smirking against her skin when she obediently answered him.
“I have been thinkin’ about you too, counting down the hours till I could get you alone.” He whispered against her neck. She mewled at the feeling of him adding another finger, his thick digits stretching her out as they curled inside her. “That little dress wasn't helping either.”
“Uh-huh,” she could feel the coil inside her tightening as his finger worked their way inside her, his thumb rubbing at her folds and clit, edging her on.
“I have thinkin’ all day about you clenching around my fingers and then my cock-” his words had an immediate effect as she clenched around his fingers as he kept pumping into her, “you've thinkin’ about that too, huh?” Y/N nodded again.
“What did I say? Words.” His other hand travelled down her body, stopping at her stomach and he pinched at her waist. “Words, baby.”
“I-I have been thinki-” Y/N panted when she realised she was close to her climax. Jensen picked up his pace and pumped his fingers faster into her, brushing past her g-spot over and over again.
When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,
You know it hurts me deep down inside
When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,
You know it hurts me deep down inside
Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby,
You know you're my one desire
“Lemme say it, sweetheart. I know you've been thinking how I would make you come on my fingers, how my dick is gonna fill you up, make you come all over me. Don't lie.” Jensen's every assumption was right to the dot. She had been thinking of everything to the last detail since the moment she watched him get out of his car, right outside of the convention building. But there was another thought on her mind, the image of him pushing her against one of the counters of his empty brewery a few weeks ago with him buried deep inside her.
That was the last she had seen Jensen before the convention as he had gone back home to his wife.
His wife.
The one woman he had promised to be with in sickness and health, till death do them apart. Guilt clouded Y/N’s mind but all rational thoughts flew out of the window when he lowered his head, kissing the neck and the coil inside her finally snapped.
With a cry of his name, she came undone on his fingers, her legs finally giving away but Jensen's hold prevented her from toppling over. He pulled his fingers out as she whimpered at the feeling. His digits still covered in her juices, Jensen pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Y/N panted, trying to come down from the high but she wanted more. She needed to feel him.
“Y/N-” Jensen rasped, looking right at her with lust blown eyes. Y/N smacked her lips at the sight of his freckled, toned body.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He smirked as Y/N eagerly reached out for his belt buckle.
“Uh-huh.” She agreed. Jensen bit back a moan when she reached out to palm his bulge. He threw his head back at the feeling of her hand on his erection through his jeans.
“It has been weeks-” Jensen said, clearly hinting at their last time together at the brewery. He quickly unbuckled his belt, pushing down his jeans along with his boxers, his erection springing free from its confines.
“Baby, it has been weeks since I felt your tight pussy wrapped around me. Fuck.” Y/N looked at him with hooded eyes and wrapped her fingers around his length, running her palm along its shaft and her thumb rubbed the tip of his cock, already lined with beads of precum. Jensen hiked her skirt up, pushing her hands away and gave his hard cock a few slow strokes. He nudged her sensitive core with his swollen tip, all while pulling out sweet, sinful noises out of her.
“Jay,” he loved hearing her needy moans, her voice raspy when she called out his name. His hands grabbed her ass and picked her up. Hooking her legs and arms behind him, with her back still firmly pushed up against the wall, Jensen lined himself with at her entrance.
Grunting, he pushed himself into her and wrapped his arms around her body. Y/N’s mouth fell open with an inaudible moan at the feeling of his cock stretching her out. Jensen placed a chaste kiss on her lips as he let her adjust to his size before slowly pulling out of her, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside, and pushed back in again, much deeper than before.
Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him close as she bucked up her hips to match his rhythm. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Jensen grunted as he started to thrust faster.
Y/N whimpered, her eyes fluttering close as Jensen snapped his hips forward before slowly drawing them back. With every thrust, she inched closer to her release as their breathing became ragged. The actor’s skin was flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red with beads of sweat lining his forehead as he felt her clench around her. Her nails dug into his back as the coil inside her tightened.
“‘M so close,” she whispered, as he continued to mercilessly pound into her.
“Cum around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you all over me-” Jensen growled into her ears, tugging on her earlobes with his teeth and his breath tickled her neck, making her quiver. Jensen had an effect on her that no one ever had. Sometimes, she would say to herself that Millie was a really lucky woman who got to have Jensen all the time and not just on convention weekends and sneaky nights spent in his empty brewery or a trailer park.
And Y/N was the one who was ruining their relationship. A home-wrecker. The tabloids would rightfully call her that if they ever found out about their twisted relationship.
“Jensen, fuck-” a cry of pure ecstasy left her lips as the coil inside her snapped once more and she felt herself coming undone for the second time that night. Jensen's thrust had become sloppy. He rocked his hips forward, thrusting a few more times. Burying his face in the crook of her neck a muffled scream of her name escaped his lips as he spilled into her, his white, hot seed coating her walls.
He lazily circled his hips a few times, his cock becoming soft inside her before he pulled out of her. His cum trickled down her leg, when he set her down, Y/N felt herself go weak in her knees when she tried to stand.
“Hi,” Jensen smiled, their eyes meeting, before he leaned forward.
“Hi.” Y/N whispered back. They stood together, holding each other closely with their foreheads touching. Guilt seeped into her and so did despair but she didn't regret any moment they spent together.
“Let me clean up the mess,” Jensen said.
“I'm gonna hop into the shower.” She said, holding out the hope that he would join her but he didn't.
“Alright.” It was all he said. Dejected, she pulled away from him and made her way towards the shower. All she wanted was to spend every single minute with him before he went back to his room to keep up the facade of his happily married life.
In the shower, Y/N thought about the day she had first met Jensen when she was a newbie on the set and reflected back on their rollercoaster of a relationship. There was an instant connection between them. Jensen was always such a gentleman. He truly cared for her, but love... she didn't know if even the idea of love existed between them or if she was just an affair.
She stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Jensen was now In his boxers. He gave her a nod and moved past her into the bathroom. A sad smile formed on her lips as she watched him walk away. She put on a comfortable pair of pjs and crawled into the bed, under the covers, waiting for the exact moment when Jensen stepped out of the bathroom and put on his clothes. And just like every other time, she would watch him leave after he kissed her forehead and told her he doesn't have a choice.
This time though, it was going to be different.
Y/N didn't want Jensen to leave, neither did she want to watch him go so she squeezed her eyes shut, adamant of not responding when he walked up to her.
She flinched when he heard the bathroom door shut. She counted down the minutes till the goodbye kiss but instead she felt the other side of the bed dip down with a familiar weight. Opening her eyes, she felt his hand wrapping around her waist. Jensen was in her bed. She turned to face him.
He was breathing slowly. His long lashes rested against his cheek and his freckled face reflected the look of absolute contentment.
Said you know I love you baby
My love for you I could never hide
Oh, you know I love you baby
My love for you I could never hide
Oh when I feel you near me little girl
I know you are my one desire
“You're staring.” He whispered.
“You're staying.” She replied back, making his beautiful eyes flutter open.
Pursing his lips together, he said, “Do you not want me to?”
“No-I mean, yes. Stay…But, what about Jared?”
“What about him?” He scrunched up his face in confusion.
“What if he finds out about us?” Y/N asked as she panicked. Hiding this relationship from Jared was the hardest task. He was like a brother to Jensen so he didn't want to lie to him but it was important to keep him in the shadows.
“Let him find out. I don't care anymore-”
“Jensen!” Y/N exclaimed. She didn't understand what was going on in his mind.
“It's okay, Y/N.” He said.
“How is it okay?”
“Millie and I are over. I finally ended it.”
Her mouth fell open in complete surprise. Of everything she had expected, this was the last thing she was anticipating to hear. “Our relationship was long dead anyway. We have separated. I'm filing for a divorce once I go back home this week.” Y/N would lie if she said that the thought of him choosing her over his wife had never crossed her mind.
“It's all because of me, isn't it-”
“No. No, sweetheart. We were already over even before I met you. I was just too scared to admit it to myself but then I met a girl, we talked. It was epic and the thought of losing her scared me more than anything else.” Jensen caressed her cheek, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He felt a burden being lifted from his shoulders. He could finally be with the woman he truly loved.
“Does this mean no more hiding?” She said, tears pooled in her eyes. Y/N needed to hear him say it now that she could shout it from the rooftops Jensen belonged to her, and she to him.
“Being with you made me realise what I was missing. All this while, I wasted my time trying to work on a dead relationship when I should have realised sooner that it was a lost case. That you are the one I want 'cause baby, I can't quit you. Millie and I would have never worked out no matter how many couple’s therapy we went to….I have never regretted a single moment I have spent with you. I love what we have. I love you.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in everything he said. Her mind was reeling from his sudden declaration. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as the corners of her lips tugged up, forming a smile but she was too overwhelmed to say anything, which Jensen took the wrong way and it scared him.
“Y/N-” his smile disappeared as his hand dropped from her cheeks, “I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?” Y/N immediately moved towards him. Her hands raked through his soft hair before she pulled him in for a longing kiss.
“I didn't even realise when I became yours but I know it happened at some point, Jay. I love you so much.” Y/N said. With smiles and their eyes sparkling with newfound happiness, they stayed in bed as Y/N nuzzled into his side. Jensen's warm hands were wrapped around her and she smiled against his chest. For the first time, the fear of losing Jensen didn't cross her mind because she knew he would stay with her that night and all that would follow. She was going to wake up with him by her side and didn't have to sneak behind anyone's back anymore.
She was happy and in love and so was Jensen.
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Feedback is highly appreciated!
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jonsa101 · 3 years
Text
Episode 3x14: A Reflection of How Max Stepped Into Love After A Season of Suffering
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Gif credit @supagirl
Hey guys! I can’t believe the season finale has come and gone! I think my mind is just taking time to comprehend everything that has happened! Sharpwin is officially canon! As I’m typing this out, it feels strange writing a meta on the other side of things. Since season one, I’ve been writing metas about how these two belong together and making predictions about the trajectory of their relationship. Now, to be on the other side of things where I know longer have to do that because these two are finally together is kinda crazy. I feel so elated!
Now y’all, I’m not going to lie to you, I had a totally different meta planned out and that meta is still in my drafts. I will probably release it because it was a general review of the episode but I thought it was more important that I put this meta out first. When I was watching the finale live, I didn’t love it. I just didn’t. I loved that Max and Helen finally got together at the end of the episode but I had a major issue with how it unfolded. The issue my friends was this scene right here: 
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Baby!!! When I tell you this scene TRIGGERED me, it did! Now mind you, I wasn’t upset with Max’s storyline of searching and struggling to take off his wedding ring. It is human nature for Max to still have an emotional attachment to his ring. He’s not still grieving but essentially that ring is the only thing he has left of Georgia and represents a life he once had. Him taking it off was always going to be a monumental moment for Sharpwin and for himself. The issue that I had was Max casually telling Helen that he freaked out about losing his ring!!! To me, after the voicemail he left her, after Helen flew standby and was in a six hour flight to see him, it was an incredibly CALLOUS thing for Max to say. I know Max wasn’t thinking in this moment. I know his intentions were clearly not to hurt her but words matter and him being careless with his was a complete disregard of Helen’s feelings. She was deeply hurt and upset when he said this and rightfully so! I mean just look at her expression here:
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Helen’s entire being read like
“I can’t believe you”
And girl same, because neither could I!! He knew he fucked up and he obviously made up for it in the end but y’all when I was watching it live, everything that came after that elevator scene was was tainted for me. I had a hard time believing that Helen would let what he said slide so easily and in the moment, I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of them finally coming together! 😩 In my personal opinion, there were so many other ways that scene could have played out without Max having to literally tell Helen to her face that he was worried about his wedding ring! I know they were trying to build up to the “big moment” where he finally takes his ring off and runs back to Helen’s apartment but man, that moment did not sit right with me in my spirit! It still doesn’t and I don’t think my opinion will ever change on this.
With that said, I’ve now done several rewatches of the finale where I specifically watched the scenes after that awful moment by the elevator. As I’ve had time to reflect, my perspective has changed. I no longer view the moments after the elevator scene as tainted but as something deeply profound and beautiful. Hell, even as I reflect on that scene by the elevator, I still don’t like it, but in a way I understand it in how it relates to Max’s overall journey when it comes to Helen. To me, Max Goodwin is a man who fell deeply in love with Helen in the midst of the most complex situations and a season of him suffering. It’s been deep rooted, complicated and messy from the start and over the past three years we’ve seen Max navigate through the complexities of his feelings for Helen and the circumstances he’s found himself in on our screens. I think when you look at season three finale and specifically the journey of Max finally making a choice to be with Helen, you have to put into context Max’s history and how it influenced what that looked like. So y’all that is exactly what I want to do in this meta so let’s dive in.
One thing I think we need to acknowledge is that, even though as an audience we have loved seeing Max and Helen’s journey unfold, the road has been so TOUGH for them. As Helen said in 3x13, it’s been a fight! Especially for Max. The suffering he has endured over the past three years has been unfathomable and much of his relationship with Helen and his feelings for her have been developed under these traumatic and tragic circumstances. 
At the very beginning of the series, when Max and Helen first meet they clash but it doesn’t last for long. It’s his first day at New Amsterdam and as the new Medical Director, he wants her to stay at the hospital and treat patients instead of doing press tours. Helen on the other hand wants to continue doing press and for the most part ignores his demands for her to return to the hospital. When she finally does return, she does so because she learns that Max has cancer. This bonds them at the onset as Helen is the only person in his life that knows about his diagnosis. As an audience, when we first see them interact, we instantly saw the sparks fly between them. Their chemistry and natural witty banter made us immediately take a look at their relationship and what potential they could have in the future. Though we were shocked by his cancer diagnosis, I think the fun and lightheartedness of Sharpwin’s first interactions really masked how traumatic this must have been for Max. On the first day of his dream job, that he sacrificed his marriage for, he learns that he has cancer while having a baby on the way. Those are the awful circumstances that first bring Max and Helen together. 
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As Helen becomes Max’s doctor and he swears her to secrecy about his diagnosis, their friendship and bond grows deeper. His passion and drive to help his patients, reignites Sharpe’s love for medicine again and inspires her to put her patients first. They become vulnerable with each other more than anyone else in their lives. He confides in her about his broken marriage and she tells him that she wants a baby. When he almost dies, she becomes his deputy medical director so that he can focus on his care. All of these moments are significant to them because somewhere along the way they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t plan for it and it’s something neither of them are consciously aware of but unknowingly, they both start to fill a place in each other’s lives that was clearly more than a doctor and patient relationship or a friendship. This “place” wasn’t called out until episode 1x16 were the clairvoyant called out their feelings for each other. When episode 1x17 comes around, after a night of revelations and a scramble to get the power back on in the hospital, Helen decides to step back as his doctor. If she wasn’t aware of her feelings before, in this moment, she’s fully aware of them now. This is an effort to safeguard her heart and set boundaries because the lines of who they are to each other were already so blurred. When she “triages” their relationship Max’s reacts badly and honestly they’re both devastated and are on the verge of tears:
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As viewers, we loved this moment but when you peel back the layers of what’s actually going on in this scene, it’s gut-wrenching. The subtext is so clear here yet their situation is so complex and layered. We know for a fact that Max wasn’t trying to lose her in ANY CAPACITY. We also know that in the way he TRULY wanted her he couldn’t have her and Helen knew that too. Not when he was married, had a baby on the way, and fighting cancer at the same time. Y’all that’s hard and profoundly painful when you think about it and it makes this scene all the more tragic. 
When Helen steps back as his doctor, at first Max seems to be handling it well but as his cancer starts to get worse, he completely breaks. Like I said earlier, over the course of his cancer treatment, Helen filled a place in Max’s life that was so much more than just his doctor or his friend. So when he’s dying and no longer has the person he feels deeply for play an active role in his treatment, he lashes out. He’s dealing with a range of emotions he can’t handle or properly process. Things only get worse from there and at the end of season one Georgia and Luna’s life are on the line and Bloom and Helen scramble to save them. When it seems like everyone was able to come out of that traumatic event unscathed, they get into a devastating ambulance crash that changes everything. 
Season 2 brings another level of pain and suffering for Max when he loses his wife after the crash and is thrust into single fatherhood. Not only is he grieving but he’s also dealing with guilt of falling in love with Helen while he was married. The complexities of his feelings is something he struggles with throughout this season and it affects his relationship with Helen. At some points he pushes her away and at others he desperately needs her. Once again, Helen and Max’s relationship is caught up in the most complex of circumstances that is riddled with agony and trauma. 
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By time we head into season 3, Max doesn’t even have time to breathe or think about his relationship with Helen because they’re both thrust to the frontlines of the pandemic. 
I bring all of this up again to emphasize that there has never been a time where Max and Helen’s relationship hasn’t been wrapped up in trauma or some sort of suffering. It has always been one thing or another with them. It’s been A LOT and Max has tried to navigate being in love with Helen through his suffering and under these crazy ass circumstances. So after rewatching the finale, the questions that run through my mind are:
How do you step into love when all you’ve known for the past three years has been suffering?
How do you love openly and freely when for so long you’ve emotionally suppressed your feelings for someone because it was “wrong?” 
How do you let go, heal, and move on with your life?
To me, answering these questions is what the season finale for Max was all about. When you’ve suffered so much and endured so much it’s not easy to step into a new chapter in your life that’s hopeful and filled with love and possibilities. For Max, I don’t think in his wildest dreams that he ever imagined that he and Helen would be in a place where they could actually be together. Considering everything they’ve gone through, quite frankly it’s a fucking miracle! So when he actually makes it to the other side and not only SURVIVES but has a chance for happiness, I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. Pursuing/having feelings for Helen from a place that isn’t wrapped up in trauma and tragedy, where there are seemingly no obstacles in his way, is totally and completely new territory for Max. I think he’s clueless in how to do that in the right way and as he navigates through that, naturally there are hiccups.
That’s evident with what he said by the elevator and also in this moment here: 
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Max doesn’t have a clue but he wants to make sure that he doesn’t fuck it up because he DESPERATELY wants this! I also think there’s something to be said about how we as human beings can self-sabotage ourselves when we finally have an opportunity to get what we want. Fear, guilt, worthiness usually comes into play with that and I think for Max there was definitely a fear with moving on with his life, guilt of surviving it all and having a chance to be with the woman he’s loved for so long, and a question of if he’s worthy of actually having happiness.
Their walk in my mind perfectly embodies him self sabotaging while also trying to navigate his feelings of desperately wanting to be with her. At the beginning of their walk, you see that at one point he clearly wants to hold Helen’s hand but he doesn’t (I would use a gif here y’all but I literally only have room for 10 😩). I’m focusing my attention on Max here because essentially this whole moment between them is a part of Max’s “mini story” in the episode. The ball has always been in his court and truly what we are witnessing is his journey to step into love because Helen is ready and has been waiting on him. 
The most compelling moment in their walk scene for me was this one: 
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I find it strange for Max to walk so far ahead when he was the one who asked her if he could walk with her. My first thought while watching it live was “what is he doing” and I think Helen’s expression reads the same way. After analyzing this for a bit, I genuinely think that’s the point of this scene. Like I said earlier, Max doesn’t know what he’s doing. To be with Helen like this is, where its romantic, peaceful and drama free is probably blowing his mind and he doesn't know how to navigate this. He doesn’t know how to receive this second chance at happiness. 
The internal war of Max stepping into love or allowing fear, guilt, and unworthiness to hold him back becomes all the more evident when they get to Helen’s door: 
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He knows he wants to come in. Helen know he wants to come in too. This man literally says goodnight twice and when Helen responds with “you said that,” it perfects this scene. She wants him to come in as well but she’s not going to ask him to. In this moment, she sees his internal struggle and she knows that he has to make the choice himself on whether or not he wants to move on with his life with her.
When he walks away, for a moment that was Max choosing to hold onto the pain and trauma of his past. That was him choosing to hold onto the guilt that was keeping him from healing and moving on. With the suffering he’s been through, it makes sense. In many ways he’s been conditioned to fight, to suffer and to endure. It’s what he’s used to. But praise the lord, he thinks of the moments he just shared with Helen. 
The joy he has with just being in her presence. 
The opportunity he has to freely be with her and have a life with her after loving her for so long.
He is not condemned to a life of suffering. It was only for a season. He’s in love with Helen and wants to be with her. Like hell is he going to let this opportunity at a second chance of love and happiness slip away from him. So guys, he slips off that ring, runs back to Helen’s apartment and makes a choice to step into love. Step into this new, uncharted, chapter of his life with Helen Sharpe. 
Anyway guys! I hope y’all enjoyed this! I might be releasing one more meta but we will see how it goes.
As always feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr and on Twitter @oyindaodewale. Love you guys!
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btxtreads · 3 years
Text
Hero
CHAPTER SIX: STARSTRUCK (PART A)
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↳ Pairing: Kang Taehyun x Reader
↳ word count: 1.7k words
↳ rating: G
↳ genre: beomgyu and y/n are the cutest besties, taehyun hits someone with a door, y/n gets a possible concussion but nothing too big lmao, txt is stressedt
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Y/N rolled her eyes as the car rolled into the cafe parking. Youra’s squeals punctured her eardrums as she moved to change to steeper heels. The younger can only shake her head as she tugged on her jacket and pulled the car door open.
“I’ll be here waiting for my friend,” Y/N explained, pointing towards the cafe. “I’ll just hang here until you finish. Please don’t be embarrassing.”
“If anything, you’re the embarrassing one for being in the vicinity of legends but not knowing who they are.” Youra explained. “Who is it you’re going to meet again?”
“Gyuu.”
“I don’t know him.”
“He was over almost everyday.” Y/N raised her eyebrow.
“Oh, your little boyfriend?” Youra asked, retouching her lipstick. “I thought his name way Beoji.”
“What?” Y/N scrunched her eyebrows, tilting her head as Youra strutted away from her and towards the club. “Who the hell is Beoji?”
Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes once more as she entered the cafe. She took a seat at the farthest corner of the cafe, pulling up her phone at the resounding ding that came from it. She smiled at the text sent to her by her oldest, bestest friend.
Kkyu 🤠: Y/Nieeeee i’m almost there ❤️ 10 minutes tops
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On the other side of the street, right behind the massive building housing what would be the biggest party of the month, was a bright red sports car rolling to a stop. A head of fluffy brown hair jumped out of the driver’s seat.
“Clear.” His deep voice called, pulling out his phone and checking the time. “You can come out now, and can we hurry. Y/N’s waiting for me.”
“Just a bit more, hyung.” Taehyun whined. “In and out.”
“What’s the plan again?” Beomgyu asked, pocketing his phone and switching jackets with the younger boy.
“You meet your friend, I go in. Soobin-hyung and Yeonjun-hyung are inside to help me backstage and get in and out, Kai will distract the paps while I move in and out. It’s flawless.” Taehyun explained as he pulled up the grey hood over his head.
“I don’t know, Tae.” Beomgyu sighed, pulling out his phone once more and quirking his lips at the message. “She’s waiting for me, and they’re waiting for you. Entrance is over there, are you sure this will work?”
“I’m positive, hyung.” Taehyun grinned as he pulled the backstage door open. “Good luck on your date!”
Beomgyu grinned as he fired up the ignition of the car once more, grinning up at Taehyun with a roll of the eyes.
“She’s my best friend!”
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Y/N widened her eyes as Beomgyu entered the cafe, ruffling his fluffy brown hair. The boy’s figure was almost swallowed by an expensive black leather jacket, his brown eyes gazing around as he fidgeted with the newest model of a popular luxury-brand phone in his hands.
“Gyuu?”
The boy’s eyes snapped away from the menu as soon as he heard that familiar voice he’d recognize anywhere. A bright smile popped up in his face as he bounded over, giggling as Y/N stood up from her chair—opening her arms. Beomgyu laughed, engulfing her in a bear-hug in return.
“Oh my fucking god, I missed you!” Beomgyu exclaimed as he squeezed her tighter.
“Dude, you’re telling me—you were like my only friend!” Y/N laughed, pulling away and squishing his cheeks between her hands. “Look at you—you look so good!”
“Y/N, I’ve always looked good.”
“Still the narcissist.” Y/N snorted as Beomgyu pecked her cheek like he always used to do before plopping down on the chair across from her. “You got me coffee?”
“Yeah, it’s the one you used to always order. Did I get it wrong?”
“It’s perfect. Thanks, babe.” Beomgyu laughed, ruffling her hair. “How’ve you been?”
“Exhausted, really.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I told Youra I was going to meet you today and she said your name was Beoji.”
Beomgyu chuckled in amusement as the girl’s eyes flew towards the giant LED screen propped up outside the club—projecting Taehyun’s performance out to the public. At the sight of this, Beomgyu winced. So much for hiding.
“Kang Taehyun, huh?” Y/N wondered out loud. “I wonder how he is in real life?”
Beomgyu’s lips quirked as he took a sip from his drink.
“I wouldn’t know.” Beomgyu shrugged. “You really don’t like him, huh?”
“It’s not that I don’t, it’s just I don’t know him enough to like or dislike him.” Y/N shrugged. “I mean his songs are good, and he is easy on the eyes—I just don’t get people worship his entire existence—or TXT, for that matter.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get that.” Beomgyu smiled in relief.
“It’s just if I form opinions on a person, I want that opinion to be based on facts—the actual facts, not the facts I see on TV.” Y/N shrugged. “Truth matters. The objective truth.”
“That’s my Y/N.” Beomgyu laughed, ruffling her hair once more—making the girl giggle.
Just like old times.
Unfortunately, the old times were him and her hanging out in different restaurants around their small town—unnoticed by many. This time, unbeknownst to Y/N, her best friend was a world-famous Youtube Star, part of the local industry’s flower boys. People were bound to notice them now—and they were.
This was why Beomgyu stood up and pulled her over.
“We should take a walk. Cafe’s getting kind of stuffy.” Beomgyu suggested, making the girl grin. “I also have a few friends around here, let me introduce you guys.”
“I’d love to meet your friends!” Y/N nodded excitedly, picking up her bag and locking arms with the boy.
Beomgyu pulled her outside and led her towards his car, making the girl’s jaw drop. At first, she wasn’t really believing—not until the boy fished for a set of keys in his pocket and opened the car doors himself, gently leading her in.
“This is your car?”
“Yeah!” Beomgyu laughed. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“How—I—“
“Y/N, there’s something you should know about me.” Beomgyu admitted, smiling shyly at the girl as he pulled out of the parking lot and moved back to the club. “I’m kind of famous? I go on Youtube a lot, sing sometimes—weird videos and all that.”
The girl’s jaw dropped, blinking over at him.
“We’re here, come on.” Beomgyu laughed as he parked again, having covered the short distance between the cafe and the club. “Let me show you my friends.”
“Wait—so, you’re friends with TXT?”
“Kind of,” Beomgyu laughed. “I am TXT.”
Y/N gasped, eyes wide as she opened her mouth to respond. Before she could, the door swung open—hitting her square at the back of her head. Beomgyu panicked, dropping down on his knees to assist the girl.
“Tae, what the hell!” Beomgyu hissed as Taehyun’s eyes frantically shifted around.
“Hyung, the paps found me!”
“No shit,” Y/N groaned on the floor. “You were literally on the gigantic LED screen outside a few minutes ago.”
Taehyun’s frantic eyes fell onto the girl on the floor, who was groaning as she massaged the back of her head.
“You okay?”
“It just hurtsa little, but I’m fine, Gyuu.”
Three more tall boys file out of the backstage door. The tallest one with black hair tilted his head at the scene.
“Who’s this, Gy—“
“Hyung, who the hell is this?!” Taehyun exclaimed, voice panicked.
Beomgyu looked up at Taehyun, eyes equally panicked as the other blonde boy whose name she didn’t know looked distressed. The pink-haired and black-haired boy only shared an exasperated look.
“Why did you hit her with a door?!” Beomgyu exclaimed.
“I didn’t mean to!” Taehyun exclaimed back before turning to Y/N with a frantic expression. “Ma’am, I’ll give you backstage passes to my next concert if you don’t scream! I’m just a normal person, please!”
Y/N sighed, glaring up at the boy as Beomgyu helped her up.
“You okay, Y/N-ie?”
“I’m fine, Gyuu.” Y/N shot the boy a quick grin before rolling her eyes at the frantic pop star. “And no thank you, Mr. Superstar. I’m not interested in your backstage passes. Thank you very much.”
Beomgyu turned back to Taehyun with accusatory eyes.
“You murdered my best friend!”
“I’m still alive.” Y/N mumbled back as she shook her head, freezing as a nauseating feeling came to her. “Gyuu?”
“Yeah, babe?”
She then turned and puked on the floor, making Beomgyu spiral into another fit of panic as she held her hair back.
“Oh my god, you killed her!” Beomgyu screamed at Taehyun.
“She’s fine!”
“No, she’s dying!” The tall, blonde boy by the door whispered in horror, shaking Taehyun’s arm.
“I’m okay.” Y/N mumbled, swaying in her spot as Beomgyu stabilized her.
It was at this moment that the two other boys sighed exchanging another look before the pink-haired one approached Beomgyu and the girl, helping her up. The black-haired boy crossed his arms.
“The puking might mean concussion.” The boy said. “You two, Tae, Gyu—Take her to the hospital.”
“But, Soobin-hyung!” Taehyun complained, eyes pleading. “I have to go home—the party for my movie deal that my parents threw—the directors—“
“Tae, you hit Beomgyu’s childhood best friend with a heavy metal door and now she’s puking and can’t stand properly.” The pink haired boy replied, pulling open Beomgyu’s car door. “Take her to the hospital now.”
“Beomgyu, my head hurts.” Y/N whimpered, making Beomgyu panic again.
“My best friend is dying in my hands!”
“Yeah, Beomgyu’s being dramatic and can’t drive.” the pink-haired boy mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Go.”
“We’ll take it from here.” They reassured, grinning at Taehyun before turning. “We’ll see you at your parents’ party!”
The other boys left, leaving a groaning Y/N, a frantic Beomgyu and a stressed-out Taehyun alone. Taehyun sighed, groaning in stress as he entered the car once more, eyeing the girl and started the engine.
“Don’t puke in the car.” He sighed, turning on the navigator. “Siri, where’s the nearest hospital?”
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geminisholland · 4 years
Text
i’m covered in you Tom Holland x actress!reader
a/n: whew i had fun with this!! i loved writing this so much! also, if you like star wars and want to give my other blog some love @makerkenobi i would appreciate that!! references to my fave song, ivy by miss swift
requests are open
warnings: cussing, angst, and a whole lotta fluff
word count: 2174
join my taglist!
bold and italics are text messages
italics are song lyrics
The hours spent on set between you and Tom had inevitably created a close bond for the two of you. There were many sleepless nights together, running scenes for hours on end before the director finally shot one they liked. You were each other’s rock during the whole process, Tom made a point to come over to your trailer before a particularly difficult scene, and provide support. You were newer to acting, and Tom helped guide you and give you advice during filming. It was safe to say that Tom was your best friend, and you were his. However, playing lovers on screen and having that chemistry was difficult for you to ignore. You knew that deep down, you had feelings for Tom, you just decided from the very beginning that you couldn’t pursue him. You wanted to make sure you established yourself as a professional, which you are.
You were professional for the entire filming process, never having a night where you drank too much and kissed him. Never. You were quite proud of that, because there were many opportunities where you could have. Tom was hard to read, anyways. You never knew how he was feeling, one minute he’d talk about some girl he likes, and the next he’s going on about how he just wants to stay single right now.
The press tour for this movie was coming along in just a few days, and you were doing your best to prepare. Mentally, that is. The press tour was going to have a lot of bonding time. Interviewers asking you questions every day, all day. Sitting next to Tom for hours on end just talking about each other and the movie. Being only a hotel room away from him. Celebrating the movie coming out with trips down to the hotel bar at midnight, you knew this was dangerous.
A ding from your phone made you snap out of your daze, as you picked it up to look at it.
Tom: Are you excited for the press tour or whattt
You: haha yesss i’m so excited & also kinda nervous?? idk why
Tom: I have that affect on people
You: shut up
You: it’s effect btw
Tom: No it isn’t
You: uhhh... yes it is dumbass
Tom: Shut up
Tom: I’ll see you in a few days in the best city ever
You: you’re only saying it’s the best city because it’s your city
Tom: Ya that’s why it’s the best
You: you’re so annoying i’ll see you soon
With that, you locked your phone, and resumed packing. You really only needed to pack pajamas and workout clothes, because all your outfits for the press tour were being brought in by your stylist. You really couldn’t complain about any of this, you got to play dress up for a month or so, hang out with Tom, and talk about a movie you’re really proud of. Oh, and also travel across the world. That part was pretty cool.
You flew into London a day early so you would have time to adjust to the time difference. Tom was kind enough to invite you to stay the night at his house before the two of you left for hotel rooms every night.
When you arrived, you were extremely tied, and didn’t have the energy to hang out with Tom’s entire family, and his roommates.
“Hey everyone,” You said as you walked into his house. Tom was behind you, carrying one of your bags.
“It’s so heavy,” He groaned out, and you rolled your eyes at him. He was never very subtle about what was on his mind.
“Hey y/n!” Harry called out. “We missed you!”
You looked around the room to see just about everyone that Tom knows sitting in his living room. You weren’t expecting to be met with at least ten people, right after you got off of a ten hour flight.
“Oh... hey!” You let out, your eyes were wide with shock. You were really tired, but didn’t want to be rude. “How is everyone?”
You made your way around, saying hello to everyone, as Tom put away your luggage in the guest room. He came downstairs, and you turned around to look at him. He had the biggest smile on his face, he loved seeing you with everyone. Of course, you had already met and hung out with his family and friends, but you were special to him; which means you getting along with his family and friends was really important to him.
“Hey, Tom,” You said. “Can we talk real quick?”
“Of course, darling,” He responded. You grabbed his arm, leading him out to the backyard so you could talk in private.
“That was really nice of you to have everyone here,” You acknowledged. You looked up at him as he flashed you a grin. He was overflowing with excitement, it had been a few months since you last saw each other in person.
“Everyone missed you,” He explained. “Myself included.”
“I missed you too, Tom.” You looked up at him, your arms were still interlocked together as you stood on the gravel, overlooking his backyard.
“I don’t want to be rude,” You started. He furrowed his brows as you continued, “But I’m really exhausted, and I think I need to just take a little nap. Can everyone come back for dinner?”
“Oh, of course!” He exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking- I was just so excited you were coming, and everyone else was too I ju-“
“Tom, it’s okay,” You smiled at him. He relaxed as your eyes met. “I’m really appreciative, Thank you for doing this. I just need some sleep right now.”
“Of course,” He nodded. The two of you went back inside, and Tom had asked everyone to come back later to give you some time to unwind. You walked into the guest room he had made for you, and laid down on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as you drifted off to sleep.
Having dinner with everyone later was extremely fun, and you were feeling like yourself again. The entire stay at Tom’s house was incredible, the two of you messed around a lot, but at the end of the day he was really a great friend. The morning you two were getting ready to leave for the press tour, he brought up tea to your room. It was the little things, you thought.
That day consisted of driving to the hotel, getting ready for interviews, and talking a lot about the movie. The two of you ended up in the hotel bar later that night, starting off the press tour by getting drunk. There were multiple days of this; you went from England, to France, to Germany, Spain, everywhere. You and Tom were having so much fun, all you did was talk in interviews, eat good food, sightsee, and get drunk. It was magical, actually. But everything changed when you went to Italy.
“We have Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland here, promoting their new movie,” The interviewer spoke into the camera. You and Tom sat beside each other, smiling as they continued to talk and ask questions.
“Was this movie more difficult to film, Tom? Because of how dark it is?” She asked, and Tom nodded his head.
“Oh, definitely,” He began. “I had a hard time with scenes, but luckily I have an amazing costar who helped me out with them.” He placed his hand on your shoulder as he looked over at you.
“And you, y/n?” She started. “It was also difficult?”
You nodded your head, “It’s definitely something I’ve never done before.” All three of you laughed before you continued. “Yeah, it was very difficult, actually. I’m very lucky Tom was there, there were a lot of tears- on and off screen!”
The three of you let out a laugh again, and Tom took his hand off your shoulder, and it fell onto your lower back. You gave him a quick look before the interviewer continued to ask questions.
“Because this movie is so dark, I thought it would be fun to ask some fun, lighthearted questions!”
You and Tom nodded, and she started to begin.
“What are you favorite colors?”
“Blue,” You let out.
“Green,” Tom responded.
The questions kept coming, and you and Tom were having a lot of fun with them. It was something different, and you liked that. Then, she asked the question that changed everything.
“What song reminds you of the other person?” She asked. You and Tom looked at each other, thrown off by what was just asked.
“Uhh,” Tom started. “I think I’d have to say Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra.”
You laughed, knowing why he said this.
“We had a lot of dance parties in the hair and makeup trailer to this song,” Tom answered. You nodded your head.
“And you, y/n, what song reminds you of Tom?”
You hesitated, you knew what song he reminded you of, you just were scared to say it out loud.
“Umm,” You drifted off. Tom stared at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know why, but my brain is saying ‘Ivy’ by Taylor Swift.”
You and Tom looked at each other, he looked confused; raising an eyebrow to indicate his confusion. The interviewer cleared her throat, then changed the subject. You spent the whole interview on edge, Tom kept giving you the side eye, and you knew you were going to have a conversation about it after.
Except after wasn’t until much later, you had at least three more interviews to do that day. When this interview ended, you didn’t have any time to chat with him. Your makeup artists rushed over to do touch-ups before the next interviewer walked in.
You were in agony, you wanted so badly to talk to him about this, but the two of you had no time alone. You were doing your best to not look at him, you couldn’t make eye contact right now.
Finally, you wrapped up the interviews for the day, and you and Tom started heading to your hotel rooms.
“What was that?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence as you walked back to you rooms.
“What was what?” You played dumb, but still looked at the ground.
“Look at me,” He demanded. You looked up at him, he was taller than you, and you were already in a vulnerable position. “You told me that ‘Ivy’ was a song that made you feel like you were in love, do you not remember that? You said that when we were filming.”
“I remember.”
“Then what the fuck was that?”
You breathed in, your heart was racing and you started to sweat. You were growing anxious. You looked behind him to see your hotel room number, you were hoping you could escape this. Maybe this wasn’t healthy, you thought. Running away from your problems. You just couldn’t handle him saying anything other than that he feels the same for you. You tried to move forward, but he blocked you.
“Don’t run away from me,” He growled out.
“Fine,” You said. “What do you want me to say?”
“What you meant,” Tom responded. He started to back up, so he was against the wall right next to your hotel door. You stood across from him, on the other side of the door.
“What I meant,” You were stalling. He stared at you, waiting for you to response.
You couldn’t look away, though.
So yeah, it’s a fire, it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it. You started it.
Your eyes met each other, and you started to moved your way closer to him. He started walking towards you, your bodies inches apart.
So yeah, it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it. You started it.
You would do anything for him, anything. He breathed out, and you felt his breath on your face.
“I love you,” You whispered. You nodded your head, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t even look him in the face. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He had a smile on his face.
“Oh, y/n, I love you too,” He said. You laughed, but was abruptly cut off by him smashing his lips into yours. You brought one hand to his neck, the other to your back pocket, trying to find the hotel room key. You stumbled, Tom was closing in on you. There was no space left between your bodies, and you were on fire. His hands were in your hair, and he was pushing you up against the wall. You giggled, you were struggling to put the key into the slot of the door, but Tom ripped it out of your hands and shoved it in the slot. He opened the door, then picked you up, taking you into your hotel room.
Now I’m covered in you.
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wildlyglittering · 3 years
Text
A Love for all Seasons Part 1 (Winter)
I said that I would write a piece for Nessian Month to be posted each Sunday so here is the first!
I’d hoped to have this up earlier but hey ho. I ended up scrapping 8,000 words of something that I’d previously done and re-wrote this in a day. It’s barely edited so I can only apologise for dubious quality and numerous spelling errors. 
I asked for prompt requests and this one is based on ‘modern au, Nesta as a ballerina.’ You’ll probably see that it’s not entirely modern au because I just can’t write modern au - sorry!
I’ve decided to link all 4 prompts received together as a 4 part series. Not all other sections will be as long as this one. Probably. I mean, I’ve not written them yet so....
***
Velaris at Solmas was a magical time and Nesta wasn’t thinking metaphorically – Solmas was literally a magical time.
Solmas was a blend of both fae and human traditions and, as a time for celebration, this meant spirits were up and magical shields were down. Active magic rippled through the air as did the leakage from those who had magic but never used it.
No one truly remembered when the lines between fae and human’s merged and there was the possibility the fae had decided to adjust the truth in collective memory to make it seem like they had always been part of the city.
Perhaps they had. Perhaps they hadn’t. Not a human amongst them could tell and not a fae amongst them would.
As centuries passed, or decades - no one was quite sure after all, the fae evolved to blend in. They shed talons, claws and teeth, and moulted wings and shimmering skin.
That wasn’t to say a good deal of them didn’t have remnants of their previous lineage; there were still those who had wings and those who were always followed by a mist. Some slipped from human form like their flesh was a dress.
There wasn’t a fae who didn’t have some magic, however small. But then, so did Nesta and her sisters, Feyre and Elain.
At some point in their collective past, the fae decided they liked the humans and vice versa and so romantic liaisons were not an uncommon occurrence. Despite a few differences, both species were compatible and that was how magic managed to bleed into some human veins. As Feyre said, they were human but with ‘added spice’.  
Sometimes all that magic, especially at this heightened time of year, was damned irritating.
That morning Nesta had been in a café, reading her book when a lady biting into a gingerbread man had to stop on account of her baked good starting to scream.
Then, when she’d left to make her way to the ballet, she’d been caught in a snow flurry where the snowflakes took the form of small fairies and danced around her. She’d slapped them away, ignoring their outraged cries.
The walk which should have been ten minutes from her favourite café down into the theatre district ended up taking forty after some enchanted horses pulling sleighs decided to protest and caused a blockage across three streets, causing numerous detours.
When she finally reached the theatre, the peace of her day shattered, Nesta stormed into her dressing room and slammed the door. “Fucking fae.”
Nesta didn’t hate the fae. Technically, you couldn’t. Anytime anyone had a negative thought there was a haze which descended over people’s minds to remind them how much they loved the fae and how pleased they were to live beside them.
The magic in her blood meant the haze was a pithy little thing which Nesta mentally told to shove its pleasantries up its non-existent asshole leading it to drift away, pretending it wasn’t offended.
No, she didn’t hate them but she found them so inconvenient.
Nesta had settled at her dressing table when her door opened following a knock. A head peeked round, long ruby-red hair streaming downwards. One of the fae Nesta did like.
“Nesta?”
“I’m here.”
“Viviane said she’s going to turn a portion of the Sidra into an ice rink later, fancy coming? I might also take an ice-dive. Good for the pores!”
Gwyn, the production assistant at the Velaris City Ballet Company was fae but was classified as a water nymph. Nesta had only discovered this when they took a trip to Adriata the beach city the previous year for a ‘hot girl summer’ and she realised Gwyn had a set of gills accompanying her lungs.
Nesta met Gwyn’s eyes in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.
“What? I can’t help myself; you know that. I take it the ice-rink is a no?”
Nesta shook her head in response as she began on her hair but smiled. Despite herself she really did like Gwyn and Viviane, and a lot of the production company too even though the company was riddled with nepotism and bias.
Few humans managed to win a place in the ballet. Arts and creative pursuits were hard to break into when you were auditioning against fae. The only reason Nesta was as successful as she had been was because of that drop of magical blood.
She reached for the headdress resting next to her make-up. The Solmas production was The Nutcracker which their performance director, Eris had choreographed and screamed over for weeks.
“Tchaikovsky was a close, personal friend of mine,” he’d bragged. “He was fae of course, well – half-fae, but then no one can be perfect.”
Nesta had rolled her eyes and ignored Eris’ glare, not at all intimidated since they both discovered she immune to glamours and spells.
Nesta hadn’t been able to score the prima ballerina role for the production but then she hadn’t for years. How can a human compete with fae who spun in the air and flew on invisible, gossamer wings?
She’d auditioned for the role of Sugar Plum Fairy and wasn’t offered the position on account of the actual fairies also auditioning. If Nesta had managed to win the role then she wouldn’t have lasted a week before a surprise accident befell her, regardless of the amount of protection charms she wore.
The role she had won suited her fine, the dance being one of her favourites – the Illyrian dance. The steps weren’t complex but the performance was all about attitude and frankly, Nesta had that in spades.
When she’d been offered the dance, Gwyn took her aside in the corridor, a frown on her face. “Are you sure you want to perform this Nesta?”
“I know what you’re going to say, the dance should have gone to an Illyrian and you’re right – it should have. I’ve been trying to petition Eris for years now about Illyrian ballerinas but he’s always up to his typical high-fae purist bullshit.”
Gwyn had given a nervous laugh and looked around them, making sure Eris wouldn’t somehow leap out of the wall at the comment. It was a fair suspicion; he’d done it to performers before if they had any critique of him to say.
“Just do the dance cultural justice.”
Nesta swore she would.
On the scale of species hierarchy, full humans remained at the bottom. They were aging mortals with no magic and poor immune systems. The fae laughed themselves silly at the concept of chicken pox and the common cold. However, it didn’t mean every fae species was revered.
High fae like Eris were basically royalty while lesser fae were their middle-class cousins. Nymphs were considered useful and the majority of other fae fell someplace in between.
Illyrians were almost a side step from the hierarchy.
As a species they were immortal, eternally youthful and ripe with magic as powerful as some of the high fae. Some of their bodies were like machines with what they did with them and they would have been able to perform ballet for days on end without breaking.
They also had those vast jet-black wings which were terrifying and enthralling at the same time. It was a shame Illyrian Air didn’t do well, but then there were far too many customer service issues.
The only reason they weren’t on par with the high-fae (in the eyes of the high-fae) was that they weren’t elegant enough. They moved with a violence underneath the surface of their flesh like their blood was fire.
They also had complex histories which no one understood because Illyrians refused to discuss anything about Illyria and their heritage with anyone who wasn’t an Illyrian.
She once asked Feyre about them to be told Illyrians had spent their entire lifetimes being looked down upon by other fae so when those same fae demanded Illyrian secrets, they refused to comply.
Feyre had said, “Cassian told me, ‘Why should we give them anything when we have to fight for everything,’” and Nesta conceded he had a point. Possibly the only point Cassian had ever had but a point nonetheless.
Why was she thinking all this now? Why was she thinking of her baby sister’s stupid friends? She knew very well why.
Gwyn had stepped into Nesta’s dressing room. “Isn’t tonight when your sister and her friends are coming to the show?”
Yes, that was why.
Gwyn leant against the wall, in Nesta’s line of sight in the mirror and Nesta shrugged keeping her voice nonchalant. “Yes, unfortunately.”
It wasn’t unfortunate Feyre was coming, Feyre who loved anything to do with art and ballet but Nesta wasn’t looking forward to the rest. Rhys, Feyre’s half high-fae, half Illyrian boyfriend had all the arrogant superiority of the high-fae and the volatility of the Illyrians with none of the manners.
Nesta was painfully aware Rhys didn’t like her.
The rest of the group were also non-human with Feyre seemingly abandoning humans completely, preferring the exclusive company of Rhys circle of fae friends. Elain was the opposite, living outside the walls of the city in her cottage, wanting nothing to do with fae at all.
Feyre had told Rhys a bunch of stories from their childhood and Rhys didn’t quite comprehend how human sisters worked, didn’t quite comprehend how complex their relationship had been.
The spit of magic in their blood had made things all the more difficult as humans were not the best containers for magic. In Nesta’s eyes what made it worse were all the tattoos Feyre had inked into her skin; amplifiers mostly.
Anger had been born from Nesta’s worry and her worry was from her love.
Feyre understood the root cause of Nesta’s peevishness even if she didn’t like it but Rhys saw disapproval and returned it in kind.
At the thought of some of the attendees Nesta’s heart started doing something change, fluttering away like it was a bird trapped in a cage. She remembered when Ianthe, one of the ensemble, had shown them the pet bird she’d brought.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she’d said, her eyes glittering as her fingernails grew sharp. “Such a pretty pet for me to love.”
Nesta remembered the poor thing desperately trying to fly out of its cage, smashing its wings and beak against the bars.
Ianthe ended up eating it. She’d sobbed she hadn’t meant to but she hadn’t grabbed her protein bar that morning when she’d left her apartment and she was starving.
They couldn’t help it; it was in their nature to consume. The fae were like locusts that way, consuming land, lives, birds. Hearts.
Gwyn’s smile at Nesta’s response stretched into one which took up most of her face and Nesta refrained from shuddering. Nymph embodied the gentle and the harsh of their element. Water nymphs had the ability to be as tranquil and soft as summer rain or as vicious and deadly as a shark in deep water.
“Uh-huh. Will Cassian be attending?”
“I don’t know, probably.”
“Are you nervous about doing the Illyrian dance in front of Illyrians?”
Yes. Terrified.
“No,” she said, “I’ve done my research.”
Eris’ choreography for the dance was lazy and aggressive, rooted in his high-fae misperceptions of Illyrian culture. Nesta convinced Eris to let her put together her own steps and when he let her, not giving a damn about the dance, Nesta sought out the sole Illyrian choreographer in Velaris - a woman named Emerie.
At least the dance would contain authentic steps, she’d just never performed it in front of any Illyrians who weren’t Emerie before.
Gwyn’s grin was still wide.
“Oh, go away would you,” Nesta said with a scowl. “I need to focus before the matinee.”
Gwyn laughed at Nesta’s scowl and Nesta knew Gwyn understood Nesta’s words were harsh but her meaning wasn’t.
“Fine, fine. I’ll see you later, my little witchy dancer.”
Nesta glared at her friends departing back. I’m not a witch, she wanted to say, just a human whose great grandma caught the eye of a high-fae and had at it.
The matinee performance went well. Performances at the Velaris City Ballet Company always went well. The city made it so, drawing in an audience like moths to lamplight.
For all its splendour, Velaris was ancient and small. What was once a human village at the base of the mountains with the Sidra River running wild aside it, grew in population and glamour once the fae came pushing through the veil.
Human technology and fae magic combined to turn the place into something unique which rippled out to other human towns and dwellings but Velaris remained the first and the original.
While other cities grew, Velaris kept its quaintness. Old buildings built from red stone were covered with trailing ivy which bloomed with different flowers depending on the inhabitants’ moods. Rooms would change their size and shape according to the number of people within and wallpapers would shift when required to become something new. A piece of furniture could be a chaise longue in the morning and a mahogany dresser by nightfall.
Outside was no different. The cobbled side streets were slightly off kilter and you could look back, having walked up a steep street only to realise the path you’d walked was now heading a different direction and upwards, not down.
The ballet house was one of the oldest buildings and contained concentrated magic the way a bottle contained liquid. It also meant, much like liquid, if the bottle was shaken then there would be spillage.
Truth told; they’d had some difficulties with previous performances.
The first performance of Sleeping Beauty had left the majority of the audience passed out in their red velvet chairs while thickets of thorns grew up from the stage floor, encompassing the dancers. Nesta had to hack through several vines to reach her dressing room to grab her apartment keys.
The Snow Queen last Solmas followed suit. Viviane had been their prima ballerina that year and was in her utmost element. That had been the worst winter Velaris had ever experienced with uncharacteristic heavy snowfalls and biting frosts. The less said about the temporary missing children and ominous women in sleighs, the better.
Aside from when Eris turned actual rats into human sized dancers and the whole city was put into a three-day long lockdown while fae exterminators went to work, The Nutcracker was going fairly well.
Magic whirled the audience through each act and they heard and tasted and smelt everything being shown to them. Music would drift into their ears as performers danced fluidly across the stage. Some of the audience sobbed, overcome by the magic which sank into their skin.
The experience took some time to get used to if you were human. The first time Nesta had performed ballet in Velaris she was dizzy with nausea and slick with sweat. Now she even managed to use some of her own dormant abilities to counter the effects, or even to add in some of her own.
Before the evening performance began, her phone beeped with a message from Feyre.
Can’t wait to see you dance! Catch up with you afterwards!
Nesta groaned. She’d agreed to go for a drink at the in-house bar with Feyre and the rest but now she wished she was going straight home.
The stage melted away from the dance before hers into Nesta’s scenery as she waited in the wings for her cue. She eyed up the boxes, knowing Rhys had sponsored one for Feyre but didn’t have a clue which one.
The Illyrian dance had a sparse stage, to demonstrate the Illyrian steppes but the painted backdrop was one of Ramiel, the revered Illyrian mountain. Despite the sparsity, the set pulsed with a dry heat; the scent of crackling wood fire and spice filling the air, the sensation of warm winds tickling her skin.
When the music started, she danced on, determined to prove to Illyrian eyes in the audience she would do it justice.
Nesta drew on the same magic which ran in Feyre and Elain’s bones, the same magic Feyre had permanently etched on the surface of her skin. When Nesta leapt, she cast imaginary wings on her back which carried her further forward and higher. When she pirouetted, she was spinning on ice. Her arms were graceful and her legs sharp.
Nesta formed herself into a blade of dance as she undulated her hips and curved her spine. She swore the heat under her skin caused the air to burn around her.
She finished to rapturous applause and resisted eyeing up the boxes again although she wanted to know if any particular hands were clapping.
In the wings Gwyn was waiting and handed her a towel and Nesta realised she was glistening with sweat, droplets highlighting her cleavage.
“Very nice,” Gwyn said, clapping. “A small fire broke out in one of the stalls.”
Before Nesta said anything, Eris walked by with a low whistle. “Great performance, Nesta. I now have a raging boner.”
The women shrieked in disgust and Nesta threw her towel at him. “Animal.”
Eris grinned, “You know it” and his eyes shone as he caught the towel. Nesta made a mental note to ask Elain for more rowan to put around her dressing room door.
Nesta watched the rest of the performances from the wings until curtain close. Usually she never dawdled, always wanting to remove her costume and dress into civilian clothes as quick as possible but tonight she took her time, idly drawing out each minute until she couldn’t avoid her fate forever.
Audience members with children, fae or human often left first, clearing the way for those who wanted to remain behind in the theatre bar. When the fae discovered alcohol a new set of problems arose. Regardless of what species you were, once you were drunk you did stupid things.
The bar was below ground level and took up a vast amount of space. Overstuffed seating was positioned around tables in compartments, each draped with their own set of thick, crimson red curtains with gold tassels. If the occupants wanted privacy, then they had it.
Nesta shimmied past groups; fae, human and mixed, who laughed and clinked their champagne flutes, none recognising her as a dancer they’d watched earlier.
Feyre was likely to have a private booth booked along with the theatre box as Rhys had so much gold he likely melted it down and bathed in it. The last time Nesta met up with Feyre, her little sister had been wearing a diamond encrusted corset top.
Ahead of her stood two figures, both leaning against the open fronted bar and deep in conversation. Cassian and Azriel. No one was able to miss them even if they tried to blend in. Illyrians were known for their size and their wings and not exactly known for their love of ballet.
Almost as though he sensed her arrival, Cassian stopped talking and turned, strands of his black hair falling from his messy bun. Her eyes met his and she felt how she always did whenever they glanced at each other – a little bit anxious, a little bit horny and a little bit excited.
Nesta was worried if she opened her mouth, a thousand butterflies would float upwards from her stomach.
The look on his face, one she couldn’t place, slipped into something familiar as she drew nearer. Cassian smirked at her and followed it up with a slow, obvious glance from head to toe.
“Hello, Nesta.” He drawled his words, husky and deep. His voice was a baritone which always had her itching to dance across his words. Illyrian magic wasn’t the strongest but those who wielded it were.
What Illyrians wielded their magic for was anyone’s guess but if she had to, Nesta would have guessed it was for making panties drop if the turning heads of the crowd and little sighs was any indication.
There had been occasions where she too was driven with the need to show him more skin of hers then he deserved, to beg him to lay her down and cover her body in honey before licking it off with rasps of his tongue.
Must have been magic.
“Cassian,” she said with barely a nod and turned to his companion. “Azriel.”
Azriel nodded back a polite hello while Cassian leant against the bar directly facing her, wearing a grin as sharkish as Gwyn’s. She was like a lamb on the ground being circled by a taloned beast.
“Interesting performance.”
Azriel coughed at Cassian’s words, spluttering on the beer he was drinking and Nesta frowned, heat flooding her cheeks. Was he mocking her?
If he was, she wouldn’t give his smugly handsome self the satisfaction of getting to her and instead she ignored his words asking who else was here and where her sister was.
“Feyre, Rhys, Az and me. Amren came to watch the ballet but didn’t stay for drinks.”
“And where’s my sister and Rhys now?”
Cassian jerked his head over to the direction of the compartments. “They’re having a private ‘conversation’ behind closed curtains.”
Nesta’s face twisted in disgust. Fucking fae. Always fucking.
“Why didn’t Amren stay?”
“She never sticks around after The Nutcracker. Says it’s derogatory and insulting and she only comes to refill her well of rage.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, what was it she said Az? That the performances were brimming with cultural appropriation?”
The heat on Nesta’s cheeks turned into furnace. It wasn’t as though Cassian explicitly referred to Nesta’s performance but his words had to crawled under her skin. Feyre’s fae friends weren’t fans of Nesta’s, not after Rhys had spilled to them everything Feyre had told him.
For a group so ancient, they acted like spoilt human teenagers. Nesta would take the high road and try and find dignity in silence.
The bartender brought out another beer for Azriel and a glass of dark liquor for Cassian. A glass of wine from the Rosehall vineyard was handed to her and she was surprised someone had the foresight to order for her before she arrived, and with her favourite drink.
“Did you not like it then?” Nesta asked after taking a sip, her voice light. Azriel coughed again and this time Cassian shot him a glare, his rough-hewn face growing solemn before sliding into his more casual expression.
“There were some authentic Illyrian steps involved which is impressive. Didn’t realise old Eris had it in him.”
“It wasn’t Eris,” Nesta said, “It was me. I found an Illyrian choreographer in the city and she taught me some steps.”
Cassian’s face stilled for a moment, motionless like stone before letting out a roaring laugh which reverberated around the bar. The lesser fae behind him jumped and splashed his drink on the counter, quivering in fright.
“Well, that explains it!”
Nesta’s flesh prickled, her skin chilling in the overly warm bar. Goodness knows what she’d been dancing. Some dance of self-mockery probably. Her throat was burning and she didn’t understand whether she was upset because she thought Emerie liked her or upset because Cassian had seen.
Nesta’s fingers clenched the stem of the wine glass and she took a gulp of her drink, downing almost half as her hand wavered and her eyes watered. Cassian immediately stopped grinning.
“It was a beautiful dance,” Azriel said from her right and she turned to him, his face serious. “Other performances of The Nutcracker have the Illyrian dance as the violent, hostile war dance. Yours was the best one I’ve seen. Cassian liked it very much.”
Nesta whispered her thanks, looking between the Illyrians standing at either side of her who were now glaring at each other. She was out-flanked next to their bulk and she wished her sister was done doing whatever the hell she was doing so Nesta could say her hellos and goodbyes and get out of there.
“There’s only one Illyrian choreographer in this city,” Cassian said, his voice softer as his fingers trailed around his glass rim. “No other Illyrian would ever bother with this place.”
Nesta looked around the theatre at its gilded gold décor and red curtains but somehow knew Cassian was referring to Velaris as a whole. Illyrians never came to the city to visit, let alone live.
She glanced at him and found his smile was gentler and his hazel eyes, which always bordered on lascivious, were kinder somehow. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to mock her, perhaps he realised his raucous laughter had hurt.
He had no reason to care if he’d hurt her feelings and she shouldn’t have cared either but there had been a sting to his words which sunk deeper than she’d liked. She wasn’t opposed if he wanted to soothe over his words.
But she wasn’t about to let him know that. Instead, she fixed a bored expression onto her face. “Oh,” she said, looking into her glass as she swirled her wine around, “and who would that be?”
Cassian, still leaning against the bar, mirrored her by looking into his own glass before taking a sip.
“A friend of mine from the old country moved here a couple of years ago because her attempt at bringing ballet into the township was less than successful. You know her human name as Emerie.”
Cassian was still leaning against the bar, now looking into his own deep amber coloured liquid before taking a sip.
Nesta’s head snapped up to find Cassian now looking intently at her. “Yes, that’s her.”
“Figured,” Cassian said with a chuckle and took another long sip.
His mood seemed less jovial than before, more pensive and Nesta glanced around to discover Azriel had gone from her side. She looked around the crowds but didn’t see sight of him. How she lost an Illyrian of his stature she didn’t know but when she whipped her head around to the booth Cassian gestured towards earlier, the curtains were still closed.
She didn’t even have it in her to be irritated. The whole night was a wash-out and because of the stupid enchanted horse incident earlier closing streets, she was now adding additional time to her walk home.
“Well, then,” she said. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired; I have another two performances tomorrow and I want to head out and avoid any festive idiots.”
Cassian stood upright, alert and facing her, his glass sloshing the liquid violently as he placed it back onto the bar a little too hard. His wings flexed. “You haven’t seen Feyre yet.”
“If Feyre wanted to catch up with me then she wouldn’t be playing hide the fae penis with her boyfriend right now.” Her tone was sharp and she glared at Cassian. “It doesn’t take much to say a quick hello to your sister.”
Did Nesta care if Cassian thought her rude? Not a fucking bit. Despite Elain living an hour outside the city and Feyre only living on the other side, a journey which took less than a minute travelling by Winnow Express, Feyre was the sister Nesta saw the least.
“If she comes out at any point,” Nesta continued, “tell her I’ll call her.”
It wasn’t a lie when she said she was tired. Two performances a day took it out of her let alone when magic clung in the air at Solmas and let alone the fact that Nesta had used a tiny amount of her own as some kind of performance enhancer.
Whatever energy reserves she had was depleted, the glass of wine making her feel like she’d drank the entire bottle.
Nesta didn’t bother saying goodbye to Cassian, just left her empty glass on the counter and spun around.
Being a ballerina was on her side as she wove through the crowd and up into the foyer which was blissfully empty. Sadly, the world outside the doors was not so much and Nesta took a breath before wrapping herself in her stole.
The statues guarding the entrance waved her a goodbye, one with a human Santa hat adorning its head and the other with a fae garland wrapped around its waist. Nesta rolled her eyes. Human and fae decorations were put on everything so management could say they’d met their Equal Opportunities criteria.
Nesta stepped onto the pavement and looked down the street of the theatre district.
She couldn’t deny Velaris at night was beautiful.
History books stated the first fae who settled in the city were night dwellers and while they were able to survive in the sun, it was under the starlit sky where they thrived. So, the stories went that they made the night spectacular.
The ink black sky was painted with whorls of galaxies and splashed with stars. At first glance everything appeared white but when Nesta looked closer it was clear they were silver and gold and the purest, palest blue.
Feyre had once told her fae eyes saw more colours than humans and the stars were a multitude of colours – the rainbow and beyond. One of Feyre’s tattoos was designed to allow her to see what the fae saw.
The theatre district was still buzzing with humans and fae alike. Because of the nature of the city, it was usual for the streets to be filled until the early hours of the morning and after any performance in the theatre district there was no time for relaxing.
There was always residual magic left over from the ballet. The ballet theatre was the largest of the theatre buildings and so the magic started strongest at the end Nesta now stood before dissipating the further away you walked.
Snowflakes and flowers alike drifted down from the empty, cloudless sky. The Waltz of the Snowflakes and the Waltz of the Flowers often combatted against each other for prominence in their audience’s minds and refused to give in to each even after the show was done.
Thankfully, the Land of the Sweets didn’t involve themselves in this battle. They had done one performance many weeks ago and when chocolate rained from the sky it was delightful. Boiling hot coffee? Not so much.
Nesta navigated her way though the cobbles and crowds as petals landed in her hair and snowflakes melted on her eyelashes. She heaved a sigh of relief when she made it to the end past the gathered individuals who spilled out of the smaller theatres and theatre bars.
She turned left to go into a side street and stopped, almost tripping over her own feet.
Leaning against the wall, silhouetted against the streetlamps and fae lights was the hulking shape of an Illyrian.
“What are you-? How did you-?”
Cassian laughed as he used his elbow to propel himself from the wall and stride towards her. “What am I doing here and how did I get here so fast?”
“Well... yeah.”
“Wings,” he said, jabbing his thumbs in the direction behind him. “They come in useful from time to time. I thought I would fly you home.”
Nesta eyed up the wings behind him, remembering all the news reports of Illyrian Air. “No thank you, I like the walk.”
“Ok, then I’ll walk with you. Make sure you get home safe.”
She frowned. Nesta had lived in this city all her life and despite the occasional fae related incident which was brought on by personal vendetta, unavoidable prophecy from birth or magic spell gone wrong, Velaris was a safe place.  
It also helped that Nesta had that splash of fae blood herself and a glare which froze bones. Literally. There had been an incident with an ex-boyfriend but she’d filed an explanation with the police and it was never brought up again.  
“I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t need babysitting.”
“I know you don’t but I’d still like to walk you. Please.” The last word was said so softly she almost didn’t hear it but she caught the imploration.
Cassian stepped further into the light of a streetlamp, a few pale pink petals falling from his shoulders, desperation in his eyes.
Nesta sighed. “Fine, but I’m on the other side of the Sidra. The quickest route is over Mermaid Bridge.”
Cassian paused for a moment, “Mermaid Bridge? There won’t be any actual mermaids on it right?”
“Not at this time of year, the water’s too cold and they travel south.”
“Thank god, one of my ex’s was a mermaid. They are terrifying.”
Nesta shook her head, not able to imagine a creature of his size being scared of anything. They started walking in companionable silence. The further away from the city centre they strode, the more the crowds thinned.
Some shops remained open, including the café Nesta sat in earlier and groups had gathered around tables to laugh over mugs of frothy hot chocolate which overflowed with cream. Cinnamon, gingerbread, and candy cane scented the air.
As they walked, humans and fae alike paled when they crossed paths with Cassian and many darted out of his way. One lesser fae flattened himself against the red brick wall while another gave a quiet yelp and ran down an alley.
Nesta glanced up at Cassian but either he was pretending he didn’t notice the running onlookers or he didn’t care.
“What do you do?” she asked. She knew nothing about any of Feyre’s friends in any detail. “For that matter what do any of you do?”
Cassian laughed. “Rhys has a lot of inherited wealth, Amren trades precious stones – we think from the old dragon mines, and no one has a clue what Azriel does. I’m a bounty hunter.”
Oh.
“Caught anyone I’d have heard of?”
“Heard of the Tooth Fairy?”
Nesta grimaced, quickly swooping her tongue over her teeth. “Yes.”
“He was one of mine. So was the Bone Carver, the Weaver and Lanthys.”
Nesta’s eyebrows shot up. “Lanthys? The gold miner? What did he do? Wait, I don’t want to know. He asked me out once.”
Cassian glanced over at her; his own eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Did you say yes?”
Nesta pulled a face. “Good grief, no. He kept sending me telepathic dick pics. It’s bad enough being sent dick pics across dating apps.”
They approached Mermaid Bridge, which was, as Nesta said, devoid of the creature it was named for. Lights twinkled on the other side of the city, the residential side where Nesta lived. There were shrieks of delight further up the river in the dark and Nesta wondered if Gwyn was ice-diving next to Viviane’s ice rink.
Cassian coughed. “You’re on dating apps?”
“Not many, I thought I’d give them a go. My sisters are busy, I only have a few friends and I need something other than work in my life.”
“Yeah, I understand. ‘All work and no play’ make Cassian a dull boy too. The play part of life is fun,” he looked at her from the side of his eye and winked.
Nesta felt the blush spread across her cheeks and she willed it down with whatever force she had left. She wasn’t a virgin so she wasn’t about to start blushing like one.
They climbed the steps to the bridge and walked across. Of all the bridges which connected the two halves of the city, this was Gwyn’s favourite. Nesta’s human eyes couldn’t pick out the colours at night but in the day the railings glittered gold and shimmered with turquoise gems.
“Do you date?” The words slipped out before she stopped them. “You mentioned a mermaid ex so....”
Cassian’s laugh was more a breath and he started to smooth down non-existent knots in his hair. “Yes. Well...no. I did but work is busy and I’m sort of interested in someone and I guess until I purge them from my system, I’m not interested in anyone else.”
“How long have you been interested in them?”
“A while.”
“Why don’t you ask them out rather than eradicate them from your options?”
Nesta wanted to slap herself in the face. Or pitch herself off the bridge into the black, ice-cold water. Even as she was speaking, she wanted to not be but it was as though her mouth and mind had fallen out and no longer wanted anything to do with each other.
Cassian shrugged, “I guess. They just never struck me as someone interested in dating fae.”
They came to the end of the bridge and Nesta looked upwards at the sky. On this side of the river without the city lights, the stars were clearer to her eyes, more defined. One shot across the sky.
“You should go for it,” Nesta said, “you might be surprised.”
“Maybe,” Cassian sighed. “She’s kind of intimidating though.”
“You’re over six foot tall with massive wings and can use magic. I’m sure you’re more intimidating.”
“Me? Nah, I’m sure she thinks I’m an oversized bat.”
Nesta cringed. Those had been her words once a couple of years ago when she was first introduced to Feyre’s new friendship group and the Illyrian’s within. She didn’t think they’d heard her say it but then again, fae hearing was something exceptional along with fae sight.
The streets they walked were now quieter, the hustle and bustle of the inner-city gone. The chill settled in easier on this side of the river and Nesta knew she’d wake to frost across her window panes in the morning.
They were silent until they reached her apartment building, halfway up one of the steepest lanes. It was a small four storey which wasn’t spacious or modern but it gave her brilliant view across the river and Velaris and most importantly, it was hers.
“This is me,” she said, stopping outside the steps leading to the red entrance door. “Thank you for walking me back.” It was on the tip of her tongue to invite Cassian in for coffee but she held back.
He smiled, his eyes warm and shining. “Honestly it was my pleasure.” He leant forward, the sheer bulk of him covering Nesta and for a moment she thought he would kiss her but instead he took her slim fingered hand in his larger one and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand.
“Goodnight,” he said, “I hope you have a good Solmas Day when it comes.”
Cassian was no ballet dancer but he sure moved like one, letting go of her hand and swivelling to face the direction they’d walked in from, marching down the slope of her street while Nesta stared at his retreating back.
He was clad in black and would have easily blended into his surroundings if not for the red jewels he wore at his wrists.
Nesta gaped down at the back of her hand, her mouth open. She still felt his lips, warm and soft, on her skin.
“Wait!”
Cassian turned back to face her, tilting his head.
“I’m sorry if my performance in the ballet was offensive.  I know Azriel said it was beautiful and that you liked it but if that was a lie to save my feelings, it’s ok. I went to Emerie because I wanted to make it authentic. I should have left it alone.”
Cassian smiled but it wasn’t mocking. He took a few steps back up the street towards her. “You know I said Emerie was a friend from the old country?”
Nesta nodded.
“She’s a really good friend. I like her a lot. She’s no nonsense with a great heart. I was trying to set her up with Rhys’ cousin Mor and in the process we got talking about dating and relationships and she asked if there was anyone, I was interested in. As it happens, I discovered this evening that she knows the person I was talking about. I’m sure she saw this as her opportunity to do some matchmaking of her own.”
“Oh,” Nesta said, her throat dry.
“Yeah. I also happened to tell her in one conversation I would be watching The Nutcracker this year on account of it being Solmas. So, there you go.”
The butterflies were flittering in Nesta’s stomach again and Cassian’s words were taking shape in her mind and building a story. “The steps Emerie taught me for the Illyrian dance – was that an invitation?”
Cassian’s smile stretched wide and he tilted his head back and laughed, the dark column of his throat shining in the starlight. “Oh yes, a very specific invitation. Emerie must have had the day of her life when she pieced everything together.”
The flittering in her stomach was now pooling in her chest. This type of conversation should have her fleeing up the steps and racing through the foyer until she threw herself into her cold bed to hide under the covers.
Nesta wanted to know what she’d inadvertently done without meaning to. Not that she minded whatever it was she’d done.
“What did I dance then, Cassian?” Her voice was lower than usual and rich like the overflowing cream in the café.
Cassian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hazel eyes were almost black. “The dance you performed half naked on a heated stage was most definitely an invitation, Nesta.” He smiled at her again, soft like before but there was something behind it. Suddenly he was a wolf and she the lamb again. He was all claws and teeth and animal.
A shiver of anticipation ran through her. Her pulse beating in her throat, drawing Cassian’s eye.
“Oh, Nesta,” Cassian said, his voice almost a growl. “You performed an Illyrian dance of seduction.”
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darling-i-read-it · 3 years
Text
Marguerite Baker
Part 3
RE7 Rewrite Masterlist
Ethan Winters x fem!reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: spoilers for re7, violence, injuries, blood, gross rotted stuff, marguerites boss battle so gross sack thing, bugs, injuries
Author’s Note: I am having a ton of fun with this! At the time of me writing this I haven’t posted any of the parts lol so hopefully you all are enjoying it as well!
Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.
Summary: Getting the serum recipe, going through the old house, killing Marguerite and getting the D-series arm.
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator. Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.
(not my gif) (i'm not posting any pics of marguerites boss fight cause I know a lot of people are super grossed out with it and I don't blame them lol)
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Ethan dozed off in the trailer. You sat on the counter, counting each and every bullet the two of you had together. You looked around at everything in the trailer. You were fairly certain it was Zoe’s. She had left behind a couple extra weapons and bullets that you scrounged together.
Ethan began to stir after about 30 minutes of sleep. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. You handed him a water bottle you had found in Zoe’s fridge. He took it gratefully and drank about half of it. He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath as you handed him all of his stuff back.
“We have to go to the old house,” you told him. He nodded.
“Did you get any sleep?” You shook your head.
“I didn’t want any. I’m too hyped up on adrenaline. The second we get out of here I’m going to crash for days.” He laughed a bit and nodded, standing up. He got himself situated. He got himself together, looking you up and down. You were both dirty and worn from the entire situation. You looked like you were about to collapse if you closed your eyes, your gaze wide. You opened the door a bit and looked around outside.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. You shrugged and grabbed a gun.
“I don’t know what else we can do. We’ll get lost without Zoe.”
“That’s a good point.”
“I’m the brains, you're the brawn babe.” He rolled his eyes and looked himself up and down. He was scrawny. He barely had any muscle on him. “We share the brain and brawn then. Come on.”
====
The two of you made your way to the old house. It was the same place you had seen Mia go in the video she made for the two of you. You had some idea where you had to go then. You just had to find the serum. That was it.
You stayed close together as you walked through the place. You found some extra weapons along with things that you could use back at the house. You were quick and as quiet as you could be, only speaking when you needed to speak. As you entered one of the rooms you picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table. You read through it quickly.
“The mothers name is Marguerite. The man is Jack, which we know and the boy is Lucas,” you said quietly. “Seemed like they were a regular family before all this. I wonder what went wrong,” you whispered. He nodded and looked over your head at the paper.
“Must have been something huge.”
“No shit.”
Suddenly something rammed into the gate wall behind you. You and Ethan turned around quickly, him standing between you and the gate. Mia was there, her hands through the holes. She looked desperate.
“Ethan!” she said breathily.
“Mia!” you said mockingly. “Are you going to try and kill us again?” Ethan grabbed your arm.
“That wasn’t me...I’m sorry,” she tried to say.
“No more bullshit Mia. I want some answers. Y/N told me what you told her but I know there’s more,” Ethan said.
“I know, I know you’re right. And I always wanted to tell you but I can only remember a little and the rest is gone!” Behind her Lucas appeared from the corner, grabbing her tightly and pulling her back.
“Daddy right? Who are you, you precious thing?” Lucas stuck his head out at you, a disgusting smile on his face. “We would get along,” he muttered. Ethan blocked Lucas’s view of you as he slinked away. “Well don’t just stand there Ethan! Do something.” Mia yelled for help and the door shut. You moved aside and looked at where she had just gone.
“That guy seems like a dick. We would not get along.” Ethan scoffed.
“Come on. We have to get that fucking serum.”
====
The two of you made it through to the other side of the old house just in time for Marguerite to push you down a hole in the ground. You figured you would have plenty of time to get in and out but she had caught you.
As you landed in the wet ground underneath the house, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. Marguerite's bugs flew down and beside you Ethan was standing. He used the fire thrower to the best of his ability and without even standing up you shot Marguerite in the face. She stumbled back and then forward, falling into the hole with the both of you. You screeched, quickly climbing up. Ethan was hot on your tails. Marguerite slinked away underneath you into the rest of the underground of the house.
He held tightly onto your arm, letting out a loud annoyed sigh.
“She’s nice,” you muttered.
“Not a great cook though.” You laughed and nodded. “Are you alright?” You nodded curtly.
“I think. You?” He nodded, holding up his hand.
“Still stapled on.” You rolled your eyes and turned around, walking back up the stairs. You opened the door that she had stopped you from opening. It opened up carefully and you were able to step inside. There were a lot of hanging baby dolls. In between some candles was a box. You rushed over to it and opened it up.
There seemed to be some sort of bones inside, along with a vile. On the back of the lid was some sort of recipe.
“D-series cranial nerve and D-series peripheral nerve,” you muttered aloud. “This is just the recipe for the serum, not the serum itself.” He let out a groan.
“Awesome.” The phone behind the two of you rang.
“If she knew where the phone was she should have come here herself,” you muttered. Ethan picked it up and you leaned against it so you could hear.
“Well? Did you find the serum?” she asked.
“We just got done dealing with your mom and her fucking bugs. Wish you could have warned me.”
“Sorry about that. What about the serum?”
“Haven’t found any but we did find out how to make one. A D-series head and arm. That can’t be right,” he muttered.
“A head? I think I have that around here somewhere.”
“You do?” he said incredulously.
“I don’t know about the arm though. Have you searched the whole house?”
“No not yet. We still have to check the second floor.”
“Alright, check it out. No funny business you two we’re on a mission.” You rolled your eyes.
“We’ll try to keep our hands to ourselves. We’ll meet you at the trailer if we find it.” He hung up the phone. Before he could even say anything you ventured further into the second floor. It wasn’t long before you found a door that had a single lantern on it.
“Looks like we need the other lantern,” you said aloud.
“This is why you’re the brains.” You rolled your eyes.
“Marguerite had one when she went down there.”
“I am not going down there.”
“You may have to.” The two of you walked back to where the hole in the ground one and saw the lantern just before Marguerite's impossibly long arms came to take it away. You let out a shaky sigh and gestured to him.
“Man first. We live in a patriarchal society.”
“I hate you.” He climbed the ladder down and looked around before you even thought about going down. You waited for a minute and he gestured for you to follow. You were careful as you went down and noticed Marguerite had some sort of pathway for the two of you to follow.
You went down that and came up to a green house of sorts. You went inside warily, guns raised. You and Ethan shared one last look before going up the stairs.
Marugite crashed through the window, causing you both to fall backwards. She gave you an intense look, her long limbs reaching around you.
“I’m her mother. Not you!” She hurried away. You and Ethan quickly regained your balance and held up your guns.
“Did you see her-”
“Yeah.” You swallowed hard and went up the stairs.
It took you and Ethan a good amount of time to get through her. But you had the grenades and Ethan had the flame thrower. Between the two of you, it took longer than it should have. She blew up after some time, leaving behind only her lantern.
You picked it up.
“Just fucking stay dead okay?!” Ethan said, out of breath. You nodded.
“I second that. Let’s just go and get the arm okay?” He swallowed, looking over at you. You watched as his eyes went big. “What?”
“Your chest.” You looked down and saw blood was pooling around your chest and shoulder area. Your eyes went wide as well as the pain hit you. Marguerite must have gotten you and you hadn’t even noticed with all the adrenaline. Ethan quickly rushed over to you and put his hand on your shoulder. “We’re going back to the trailer so I can look at this.” You nodded and let him help you walk out of the green house.
It was a very short walk to the trailer. He sat you down on the bed and kneeled in front of you. He tugged at the hem of your shirt.
“At least buy me dinner first,” you said through a groan. He gave you a look and he helped you take the shirt off. You had a large gash from your collarbone to your arm. Ethan winced just at the sight of it. He pulled out some of the first aid he had found.
“This is going to hurt.” You nodded as he poured something on it. You winced through gritted teeth. He pulled out some bandages. “You aren’t dying on me now, I don’t care what you say.”
“You held your own pretty good back there,” you admitted.
“Yeah, with your help.” You watched as he focused his eyes on your wound. He looked so intense. You had always liked Ethan but when Mia went missing he was all you knew. As you stared into his eyes you thought maybe you had always loved him.
Loved him?
It hit you like a bag of bricks. You took a short breath in and Ethan just assumed it was the pain. You had to look away as you felt yourself get flustered. He was your best friend's husband. But she had been gone for three years and she was always gone before that anyway. You found it in yourself to look back at him. He was smiling slightly up at you.
“It’s the best I can do.”
“It’s great,” you said. “I already feel better. Thank you Doctor Winters.”
“Just doin my job.” You swallowed and stood up. He grabbed your arm, shaking his head.
“You aren’t going with me. I can get the arm.” You shook your head more aggressively than him.
“I’m not letting you go alone.”
“You just said I could hold my own.”
“And you admitted you needed me.”
His hand was firm on your arm. You stared into each other's eyes and suddenly it was so obvious you had always loved him. That's why you came. Sure, you hoped Mia was okay but truthfully you couldn’t let him die if you could help it. The way he laughed and the way he hated beer but drank it anyway and the way he reloaded a gun was weird and the way he looked at you.
“I’ll be okay. Get some rest. Hopefully Zoe will come here before I do.” He let your arm go. He had felt the tension.
You were getting so dizzy from blood loss you had to sit down.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. You reached forward and held his hand.
“Please be safe Ethan.” He nodded curtly and left the trailer. You put your head down on the pillow and let yourself breathe evenly.
====
Ethan returned with the D-series arm only a half an hour later. Zoe was still not there. You were sleeping peacefully on the bed, your face finally at peace. He watched you for a moment. You were his only friend over this whole Mia thing. Most of his friends beforehand had left him when he got super into trying to find her but not you.
And then you told him everything and it all kinda changed.
He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. If you died...he couldn’t deal with it. You were his best friend. He...he loved you. He didn’t want to admit it to himself because of Mia but he really truly did. He ran his hand over his face, letting that settle in.
Suddenly the phone rang, waking you up. Ethan turned quickly and picked it up.
“Now where the hell are you? You know what, nevermind. We only need the head and you’ve got it.” You stood up and walked over, putting your head against the phone like you usually did.
“Hey buddy!” You let out an annoyed sigh. Lucas. “I thought you should know. I decided Zoe needed a time out. She and Mia are here with me. And they’re keeping each other company.”
“Just let them both go, what do you need them for?!”
“That’s family business Ethan! Not your concern understand? Now. If you want the head feel free to come by any time and I’ll give it to ya! But only if you participate in a little activity I put together for you two!”
“Where are they?” he asked.
“I know you’re excited! But don’t worry! It's not going anywhere. First step I need you to take partner is for you to take a look in that fridge there.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh come on now, don’t be like that. You wanna have fun don’t ya? Now look in the fridge.” Lucas hung up. You gave Ethan a look. Ethan put the phone down. You walked over to the fridge and found inside the deputies head. You scoffed.
“This guy again. Man.” You picked it up, wincing at the pain and the smell. On the back of his head was a note. “‘The pig is waiting for you in the dissection room bitch,’” you read. “Now that’s not very nice,” you muttered, putting the head back in the fridge. Ethan let out an annoyed sigh.
“This can’t ever be easy can it?”
“Hell no.” He gestured to your arm .
“How are you feeling?” You shrugged then winced.
“It’ll heal nicely,” you muttered. “How was getting the arm?” He showed it to you, waving it around as he spoke.
“Weird. I thought I saw a little girl and there were all these childrens toys. I got out of there quick though.” He put the arm down and walked up to you. “Let’s change the bandages and then we’ll go to the dissection room.”
“Bitch,” you mocked. Ethan laughed, raising his hands up to your shoulder. You sat down on the table and let him take a look.
“You aren’t lookin too good,” he muttered.
“You should never say that to a lady.” He rolled his eyes.
“You always look stunning. Even covered in blood and dirt.”
“Aw Ethan, thank you. Right back at you.” He put a new bandage on and you watched him do it. If he had looked in your eyes he would have seen the metaphorical hearts coming out of them. Finally he looked back up at your face.
“You should be okay now.”
“Thank you,” you said genuinely. He nodded curtly and stood back. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded. “Are you going to stay with Mia if she gets out of here alive?”
“Don’t ask me that,” he muttered.
“Why?”
“Because you’re messing with my vows by the answer I wanna give you.” You smiled a bit, looking down. “We have to go get whatever he left for us. Come on.” You nodded and stood up. You almost tripped forward from dizziness and he grabbed your healthy arm to keep you steady. Your faces were mere centimeters away. You looked into each other's eyes and he couldn’t help himself.
He kissed you.
Suddenly the pain from your arm was gone. You melted into his lips. He pulled away and froze. Your eyes went wide.
“Did you mean-”
“Yes.”
With that he walked out the trailer door to the dissection room.
Part 4
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