#tut tut shake ya butt

[yeeterthek33per]

Love it, Love you (Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Summary: You and Caitlin are filming for the disney matildas series.

---------

Slow motion scene of Caitlin bounding over to you on the sideline, hands grabbing your face, pressing your lips together after scoring against Spain. There's a soft flow of piano music over the top.

"Ya know, I don't think we ever really explained that one to the girl's either."

Caitlin chuckles softly and shakes her head in agreeing negativity. Both of you are sitting on the white couch in your house in London. You're tucked under her arm.

"Yeah, no, I don't think we'd told them at that point. So I think they kind of freaked out on us after the game."

You lean off the couch with a soft laugh, head in your hands, ruffling your hair slightly.

Caitlin shakes her head with a sigh.

"That's an understatement. Poor Steph, girl was getting bombarded as well. Not that she knew either. Cait and I were just sitting there while they all kind of just lost their minds. Steph looked utterly disappointed that we hadn't told her sooner."

"Your sister.. well."

You give Caitlin a look.

"My sister looked ready to deck you. Macca looked like she would probably have to hold her back and Sam just facepalmed and told the girls to cool it so we could actually answer. Tony didn't even bother sticking around for the whole debacle."

"Yeah, that was a tough one. I don't think Lans has been able to trust me properly since. I love the girl, but man does she hold a grudge."

You slap her on the shoulder with an eye roll.

"Excuse me, you forget you're engaged to her sister here. I imagine any protective older sister would be peaved about one of their best mates suddenly sidling up with their sibling. Also I'd like to point out you could very well still call that woman to help you bury a dead body and she would do so no questions asked. So I'd like to think she still trusts you very much thanks."

Cut to a video of Caitlin celebrating with Alanna after a brilliant header from the defender against Jamaica.

"Don't know if that makes it better, honestly. I'm afraid she'll stick me in my sleep one day."

Cut back to the couch, You give her a playful glare.

"Just because you copped the shovel talk from one of the tallest girls on the team, does not mean she'd actually murder you. At least not without prompting. I can't imagine she would kill you without you doing something first."

Caitlin just turns her head back to the camera with an incredulous look.

"Anyway, that was four days before our third anniversary. Literally two days before I proposed. I think Alanna might have been too late to stop it or you know, try to break us up. Ya know?"

You fake a cough into your balled hand, turning away slightly.

"What? Did she actually try? Oh my god, I swear I will kick her butt if she actually tried."

You whip your head around at her, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips.

"Oh you'll kick her but will you? What happened to being terrified of her?"

Caitlin keeps her mouth shut and you tut softly, hand resting on her knee.

"That's what I thought. Yes she did try to forbid me from dating you, cinderella style and all. But after some convincing, she switched it up to reminding me that I could still dump you if I changed my mind and she wouldn't totally gut you afterwards."

Caitlin looks dead on into the lense, an unimpressed look of told-you-so playing on her expression. You burst out laughing at that.

"See what I have to deal with? Why did I agree to marry you again?"

You smack her on the chest, backhanded.

"You're the one that proposed doofus."

She just grins cheekily.

"Oh yeah, I did too. is it too late for a refund?"

You roll your eyes, and scoff.

"Give you 'refund'."

She rubs your shoulder, pecking you on the cheek.

"You love me."

"Debatable."

You receive puppy dog eyes in return and poke her nose, a resounding groan as you push her slightly, turning back to the camera again.

The video fades to black and shifts to a new scene between you.

---------

You're standing in your backyard watching Caitlin run around and play tug of war with Peach.

"I'm so proud of her, everything she does is just phenominal and I'm glad I got to be part of her journey. The moment I got the call from her saying she'd been considered for an Arsenal transfer, it was then I knew I would follow her anywhere."

Cut to footage of Caitlin scoring against Aston Villa.

Cut back to you looking at the brunette, with major heart eyes.

"We were only together for about a few weeks at that point, but having been close friends before then made it feel like longer. She wasn't one hundred percent in it, especially since she thought she'd be leaving me in Australia on my own since Alanna was about to transfer to tottenham too."

Footage switches to Alanna, in a Manchester City hoodie, sitting in her own living room.

"I felt weird, leaving my sister, we'd always been one for one, and this was the first time we'd properly been separated by ocean. She came with me to Orlando and before that, had stayed with our parents. We both got contracted for Sydney and just hadn't really separated after that. Though I was pretty chuffed to find out she was moving closer again, with my best friend at that."

Back to you in the backyard, Caitlin now sat beside you on an outdoor recliner.

"Surprised the hell out of me, getting that call from my manager, he was like, Y/n, I've got big news, Arsenal want you. I think I was so shocked I just laughed. I thought he was one crazy a****** for joking about that. What are the chances I get contracted by the exact same club as her within just weeks of each other. Surprised her too."

Caitlin puffs out a laugh.

"You didn't mention why though. Surprised because I just mopily walk into training, thinking about how to deal with the distance anxiety and just, in you walk, day thirteen of me being in London. 'Hey, sweetheart, how's your day been? Oh yeah by the way, I'm playing here now'."

"To be fair, It was meant to be a surprisez considering I basically had to schedule everything perfectly. Without Steph's help, because ya know, that would've been suspicious."

You lean your head on her shoulder, her hsnd comes up to run through your hair.

"Stephs face was pretty funny though, what are the chances three Aussies all get contracted within just weeks of each other. The older girls were all like 'what is jonas thinking?'. It's definitely been remarkable though, both of them are phenominal and they deserve every bit of everything we achieve with the gunners."

She looks down at you with a loving smile and you grin widely back up at her.

Footage of Steph and Caitlin's starting for Arsenal, standing in the lineup, your face new amongst the starters further down the line, right beside Leah Williamson.

"It was certainly something else. Being able to play with such big names at the time. Kim Little was one in particular that I'd been terrified of in that moment. How many times I'd seen Caitlin go head to head with her. Now I know her better though, she's just a big softy and she's got a soft spot for me, too."

Caitlin shakes her head.

"I think she means spoilt, this one can do no harm in the captains eyes. The baby of the team she likes to claim. Even though she's only like two years younger than me."

You protest.

"Twenty-three was pretty young, obviously not the youngest on the team, but it's not like I was pushing thirty already, jesus."

Caitlin gets an offended look on her face.

"Excuse you, thirty is not even that old. 'Pushing thirty already' you're twenty-six, thats not far from thirty thank you, also don't let Kimmy hear you say that."

You chuckle.

"Eh, she loves me. But you're closer to thirty than me so."

And you poke out your tongue at her. Your girlfriend just looks at the camera again.

"Bloody childish, what do I tell ya?"

You kiss her cheek, a small smirk on your lips.

"You love me."

---------

Video footage of the two of you making a huge passing play up the left side of the field, playing against England. The ball gets switched in a fast tikki taka motion as you both move up the line. You make a run for the box and it's like Caitlin doesn't even have to look for you as she sends the ball right to your head for you to sneak past Earps, who despite her best efforts, can't make contact with the ball.

Cut to you both walking through a forested walkway outside of the city. A long shot from the back, and then flicks to a full shot at the front as you both slowly walk down the concrete pathway.

"When she received her first call up to the team, she called me frantically, practically balling her eyes out."

"Balling my eyes out, I could hardly talk into the phone to get it out. Coach had called me when I was at home on my own, and Caitlin was in at the office."

"I stand by this, but you'd actually called me at the worst time too. I was sitting beside my coworkers on a mini break, one of them is a physio on the Arsenal team as well as one for where I work. All they hear coming from my phone is just incoherent blubbering, followed by "Babe! I GOT IN!" Of course, I wasn't following exactly what she meant and my dumb brain just went, in like, the ice bath?"

Your laughter rings out at that.

"That's what you thought I meant?"

Caitlin nods slowly, a small blush developing on her cheeks.

"That's just what we'd been talking about at the time, including how you in particular refused to touch the ice baths for the first six months, someone basically had to carry you in with them. So like, I was excited for you to finally have gotten over that fear on your own."

You push her slightly, a loving smile making it's way onto your lips.

"That's really sweet, but no I did that three months after that, when I finally decided to stop being a wuss, now that I was actually playing in the big big big league, I had to. But that's beside the point."

"Uhuh, sure sweets, anyway, when she finally started going into the phone call itself, it did finally click in my head because I never actually explicitly mentioned the ice bath either so we were both still pretty excited, but for different reasons."

"Yeah, I did not like her initial reaction at the time."

"I was still super confused why you were like full sobbing about it though. I was like 'okay, congrats baby, you did it, no big deal'. I think she was ready to hit me after that one."

"Mild understatement."

Caitlin chuckles, bringing your knuckles up to her lips.

"so when she brought up how amazing it felt to finally break onto the national team, I just was like 'Ohhhhh... oh.... OH, Congrats baby!'."

The footage cuts to your hands linked in the between you, her thumb gently caressing the skin there before cutting back to a mid shot of you both from the front as you giggle softly.

"I just kept thinking, what did she think I meant, what does she mean no big deal. Cocky woman. To think I wanted to marry her too. She did get super excited for me, though, after that. She's a little slow, but I love her."

You give her a shit eating grin as she glares at you.

"She's honestly such a little brat sometimes, can you believe this?"

You giggle softly, bumping hips with her.

"You love it."

---------

Footage of some of the afterparty in the locker room plays, Caitlin clearly in view sculling champagne out of the trophy.

"Back at the Cup of Nations. We were out celebrating in a VIP bar, and they'd given us free entry, the whole team, I mean. There were drinks being passed around every two minutes. I think we were just so ridiculously drunk after that. Steph was the only one not really drunk. "

"Well yeah, to be fair she was kind of... well."

You roll your eyes at the striker.

"She was injured, so she had to kind of not drink. Caitlin, the dumby, dropped her kitbag in the doorway, so when we drunkenly stumbled in, we kicked it out of the way. Out popped the engagement ring. Luckily, I didn't notice. But neither did Caitlin. Steph did though, pretty sure it was the first thing to catch her eye as she dropped us both off in the hotel room. She just picked it up, threw it back in the bag, and when we were both on the beds."

"Relatively."

"Somewhat. She took a photo of us, sent it to Caitlin, and said, "Congrats, don't let Lans see you propose." Not the message I was expecting to see that morning. I'd accidentally picked her phone up.-"

Cut to you sitting at the kitchen island in your house, Caitlin standing at the stove.

"You claim it was accidental, but we both know the truth, babe."

"It was! You left your phone right next to where I charge mine instead of on your own bloody bed side. Anyway! That was how I found out she wanted to propose. Because my lovely fiancee here couldn't put her stuff away. As always."

You give her a mildly playful, unimpressed look.

"Pfft, that was all drunk caitlin, I don't associate with that chick. She's an idiot."

You purse your lips.

"Clearly."

Caitlin stays stirring the pan for a second before turning around suddenly to your suppressed laughter.

"Hey!"

You let it out at that point, shoulders wracked with laughter, head on the bench. When you finally catch your breath, you look at her again, but she's turned back to the stove. What you can't see is the small smile on her lips, which the camera does.

"Love you."

She turns her head slightly to say something back.

"You better. Ya dork."

It's your turn to pout again.

"Hey!"

You gesture to your girlfriend in front of you, eyes in contact with the camera.

"See what I have to deal with? Won't even say it back, so mean."

She turns back to you with a small wink, smirk playing at her mouth.

"You love it."

---------

The image switches to you both sitting laying back on a lounge chair set up outside the back door, watching the summer sun go down in London.

"I'm so grateful we get to be together throughout this whole experience. She's the love of my life and she's an amazing football player too."

You smile up at her from your place leant against her chest. The camera pans around as you both share a quick kiss.

"I don't know, feels like you've got me beat. I feel like I don't tell you I love you enough."

Caitlin gives a quick glance to the camera lens.

"She does it every two hours and still says that."

You pout up at her. She pinches your cheek softly, kissing you on the forehead.

"You're lucky I love you."

Caitlin looks fully up at the camera this time.

"See?"

"Oh my god. Hush up"

"You love it."

"I love you."

She chuckles and you just shake your head and bring her in for a full kiss. Fade to black.

---------

[holylulusworld]

Kitten and her tamers (Epilogue)

Summary: It’s just you and your men.

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, Mafia!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader, Mafia!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings:  language, polyamory, soft mobsters, fluff, implied smut, mentions of spanking

Badass kitten & her tamers

Deadly Kitten (12)

“Welcome to Isla del kitten. We have cold drinks, sun, clear water, and lots of sex,” you raise your glass at Ari.

He pushes his sunglasses up, smirking because you are wearing nothing but a smirk.

“I see you got very comfortable, Y/N,” he sits next to you in the sand, ignoring the sand sticks to his skin, or that you poke his thigh with your foot. “This place is nice.”

“I told you so,” you grin. “We should come here more often. Why own a whole deserted island if you don’t come here for vacation.”

“We had work to do.”

Ari watches you roll onto your belly to let the sun kiss the skin on your backside too. You love feeling the sun's rays on your body and will take full advantage of your time on the island.

“Only work, no vacation for years. We should change this,” resting your head on your crossed arms you sigh. “I hope Jake, Lee, and Lance didn’t kill each other yet.”

“They are still alive and kicking, baby,” he glances at your naked ass, smirking darkly. Ari lifts his hand to slap your ass, grunting as Andy catches his hand before it can hit your butt. “Hey.”

“Don’t ruin her sunbath, Ari,” Andy tuts. “You know how much she loves the sun on her skin. If you mess with her, she won’t let you get close to her for the rest of the vacation.”

“Daddy is right,” you mutter. “There will be no sex on the beach for you, big bear. And I won’t fuck you either.”

“Fine…fine.” Ari sighs. He loves spanking your ass with his large hands. You always make the cutest noises and complain if he doesn’t do it right. “No spanking today.”

“Are we having fun?” Ransom sneaks toward you to slap your ass. He laughs as you roll onto your back to glare up at him. “What? I thought you loved it when you put your hands on me, kitten.”

“You’re awful, all of you but Andy.” You sit up to grab your beach dress. “I’ll sleep in his room tonight. Why can’t you let me have a sunbath.”

“You looked ready to get eaten, kitten,” Ransom plops down next to you, smirking as you drop your eyes to his crotch. He’s, just like you, butt naked. He shamelessly presents his body to you, and his partners.

“I can see that,” Ari wrinkles his nose. “Can you cover your erection, or do you want to ruin my appetite?”

“Don’t act as if you haven’t seen my dick before. How many times did we take turns on our sweet kitten together?”

“Guys, no fighting,” Andy steps in before Ransom and Ari can get into a fight. “We came here to relax and heal. Let Y/N have her fun in the sun.”

“Did you just rhyme, Andy?” You run your hand over Andy’s thigh. “I guess Daddy is in the mood for playtime.”

Ransom shakes his head. “Not on the beach again. Last time I had sand everywhere. And when I’m saying everywhere, I mean it.”

“Ran, baby,” you crook your finger. “If you don’t mind a little sand when can get naughty…”

Your men look at you with hungry eyes at your words. “Ready or not kitten,” they say. “We are coming for ya…”

You will spend three more weeks on your island, promising each other to never let secrets and enemies get in between you and your men.

FIN

Tags in reblog.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Cheesy Hash (Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: So this is probably not great and I apologize in advance. I've only watched the pilot episode of Kin because it's the only one that's been available where I am without having to buy another streaming service our buy by the episode, but I'm obsessed with the gifs and clips I've seen and the fics I've read I just had to write this idea when I had it. It's definitely a fluffier and lighter fic for him, but, he deserves it! Enjoy! :)

Summary: Things are new and exciting with Michael, but at the same time, they feel established and comforting, and nothing is more established and comforting than waking up with Michael on a Saturday and him making you breakfast.

Warnings: Fluff (kissing and tooth-rotting sweetness), angst (Michael's trauma and family baggage), implied smut, a sprinkle of swears

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 990

The pins and needles that begin to prick at your hand is the thing to stir you from your sleep. The gentle trace of warm, calloused fingertips running up and down your arm help pull you from your sleep entirely as you slowly open your eyes to the bright light starting to stream in through the blinds. 

“I didn’t mean ta wake ya, love,” Michael rasps softly, trying to preserve the quiet of the peaceful early morning—something you know he doesn’t get to enjoy often, if at all. 

“Y’didn’t,” you hum as you open your eyes and look up at him and his gorgeous honey hazel orbs sparkling down at you. “Hand fell asleep.”

“Ah,” he tuts with a soft smile before he leans down to press a kiss into your neck, slowly dragging his lips to your shoulder and collarbone before slotting his lips over yours. You hum into his lips, chuckling softly as his beard tickles at your face. 

“Good morning, (Y/N),” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Good morning, Michael.”

He softly runs his hand up and down your arm in adoration. “What d’ya want fer breakfast, pet?”

“Mm, I get breakfast, too?”

He smirks and pulls you closer to him in bed. “Course ya do. I have no intention of lettin’ ya leave all weekend.”

“Ooh, scandalous, Mikey.“

Michael smiles and kisses you once more. “What d’ya have a hankering fer, princess?”

“Surprise me.”

“Alright. But you stay here. It’s a surprise, after all.”

“‘Kay,” you grin. Michael leans forward for one final kiss, twisting you back into the mattress and kissing you deeply, making you giggle into the embrace. 

“Stay,” he murmurs against your mouth before pressing a final kiss into your lips before he rolls away. You get a very lovely view of his butt as he looks for his discarded boxers on the floor, shimmying them on just enough for them to stay on his hips. “Roll yer tongue back in’ta yer mouth,” he chuckles. 

“Sorry, Mikey,” you hum. “Just enjoying one of the lovely views of Ireland.”

He just chuckles some more and shakes his head as he walks out of the bathroom. “Yer a menace.”

You watch him leave, wondering how the stars aligned where you could be with this amazing man, so kind and gentle despite all the hardships, the heartaches he’s gone through  and demons he battles night and day. The way that he never tries to burden you with the darkness that weighs on him over and over, the way that when he finally cracks and breaks down, how he weeps when it all becomes too much, how he can turn into a towering, dominant figure when he needs to work through frustrations with intense passion. . .

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear a clatter from the kitchen. 

“Mikey?” you call. “You alright?” You don’t hear him respond, and he sounds like he’s fine in the kitchen, but you can’t help your mind from wandering. “Michael?”

You know he told you to wait, but you can’t help yourself. With a sigh—and against your better judgment, knowing you should stick to what he requested— you slide out from under the covers and find Michael’s discarded sweater on the ground. Sliding it on, you’re immediately wrapped in Michael’s smell, as if he's wrapping you in his signature warm, tender hug. Slowly shuffling down the stairs, you turn into the kitchen and find Michael happily working at the stove, shuffling something in his pan before flipping it with a flick of his wrist.

Mm, so sexy.

With a smile, you shuffle over to him, not so quiet where you scare him, but not as loud as an elephant shuffling about. You can tell by how Michael stands at the stove that he hears you, slightly adjusting his posture, readily accepting your arms that slink around his waist.

"What're you doin', pet?" Michael says in amused surprise as he looks over his shoulder while you rest your cheek on his bare back. "I told ya to stay in bed."

"I missed you. And you took all the warmth with you,” you hum. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?” he says with a chuckle of his own. “I really don’t have much and need to run to the market. But I had some eggs, cilantro, Parmesan, and potatoes. ‘M goin’ for a cheesy hash and eggs sort of somethin'.”

“Sounds delicious.” You press a kiss right between his shoulder blades. “Reminds me—I need to go grocery shopping, too. We can make a little date of it.”

“I like that idea.”

“Maybe I can convince you to get a beer that isn’t so shitty.”

“Yer an American—you don’t know anything about good beer,” he laughs, turning around from the pan with the cooking shredded potatoes to kiss you and sit you down on the island. “Now sit and behave.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Well, yer eggs and hash will burn, and we won’t do the fun little activity I had in mind after we eat.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You really meant all weekend.”

“‘Course I did. ‘M a man of m’word.” Turning around, he has two plates of fried cheesy hash brown circles with two sunny side up eggs on top, extending one of them toward you. “Fer you.”

“Mm, why thank you,” you say with a big smile as you take the plate. “This looks delicious. It smells delicious.”

“T'ank ya,” he says with a kiss, twisting around to get you a fork. You each cut off a bite with your forks, clinking them together before you take your bites. “Damn, I’m a fuckin’ good cook.”

You giggle as you pull him as close to you and the kitchen island that you can, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder. “Yes you are. Good at a few other things, too.”

“And ya say I only have one t'ing on my mind.”

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[what-the-fuck-the-world]

new HOWARDIAN album

“All Signs Point to Bliss”

out now on tut tut shake ya butt tapes

get it digital: itunes / amazon / google / spotify

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[4dtk]

hello, i hope you’re doing well! can I request holding hands 13, hugs 34, kiss 7 & 31, and touching 38 with johnny? the plot could revolve them finally deciding that it’s time they’re ready to try for kids since they just moved into a new place! thank you <

got carried away. enjoy LMAO

hand-holding, 13: linking hands together during sex

hugs, 34: hugging while grabbing butt

kisses, 7 & 31: passionate kisses, gentle stroking of cheeks

touching, 38: stroking their leg

warnings/tags: dom!johnny, sub!reader, fem!reader, breeding/impregnation kink, daddy kink, brief cockwarming, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), fingering, missionary, mating press, vaginal penetration

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!!!

"how’d you like the place, mrs. suh?" you can’t help but let out a smile at the honorific, leaning into his side at the stunning place you’d manage to get. taking inspiration from pinterest, the array of options for you was blinding, but soon you settled on a style that you could both agree on along with the carefully crafted furnishings you’ve chosen.

"it’s so sexy," you whisper with a laugh, looking around at the pristine kitchen counters and overhead lighting. you’re saying it half as invitation, and you smile knowingly when johnny turns it around to compliment you.

"ya know what else is sexy?" rolling your eyes, you turn to face him to see a lazy smirk stretch across his face. johnny says nothing more and leans in gently, taking your lips with his in a sensual kiss that shows no matter how cheeky he is with you, the love that’s gotten him wrapped around your finger is undeniably unconditional. in a way, it was literal, too where the silver band wraps around your fourth finger as a reminder of your shared love.

your husband pulls away just for a second, "for how many times i’ve came in you, i was sure i would’ve knocked you up by now." johnny has the pleasure to witness the malfunction of your brain, unable to form any words at the casual sentence he drops about fucking impregnating you. he coos and lets out a giggle when you try to pull away from him in embarrassment.

"you-! you’re really not shy saying those kinds of things?!" playfully you push him away, ignoring the turn in your stomach when he had murmured with a low voice. his apology came in the form of kisses along your forehead right up to your lips where you melt once again into his chilling embrace, fingertips as cold as the arctic while his body emanated warmth. you never understood his body temperature, but you couldn’t care much when his touches leave traces of electricity along your skin.

johnny walks you back, feeling around for the kitchen counter that he accidentally bumps you against. with a muttered apology said in haste, your lover captures your lips with his even more hungrily, using the strength in him to prop you up onto the counter. reluctantly, he pulls away again.

"aren’t you an eager one?" his hand strokes the legs that accommodate him, spread to hold him as close to you while his forehead rests on yours.

"how can i not? you’re so tempting without even knowing it…"

you sigh affectionately, "is it also as tempting as kids running around in our new house?"

johnny jerks back in surprise. "you… you want to try, now?"

with a hesitant smile, you reply, "i mean, why not?" you’re afraid you’ve said the wrong thing when johnny’s surprised look doesn’t let up, but soon you’re met with his contagious laugh, looking at you like you were the only thing to exist in his world. his heart’s never felt so warm before looking at you as it does right now and he has to hold himself back from taking you then and there.

"now who’s the eager one?"

you fail to shove him away, a grin plastered on your face as your cheeks flare up completely now, "bitch, you were the one who made the lewd joke!"

"it was a fact," you roll your eyes for the second time that night, pulling him in anyway to smash your lips with his. you're needy, unable to keep your hands off of him even when your skin is stinging from the cold temperature of the marble counters. johnny groans softly into your mouth, pushing onto your hips more and more to feel any form of friction with you.

he picks you off the counters effortlessly with a tight arm wound around your middle and lazy pecks placed onto your neck.

"do you think we'll get a noise complaint tomorrow?"

pursing your lips and shrugging was your answer, impatient with the countless questions and quips johnny liked to do during your sessions. "okay, okay, i'll shut up." johnny knows you like the back of his hand. it's an obvious feat, certainly, since you decided to say yes to his private proposal on the top of an observatory. under the stars, where they had given their blessing.

johnny knows you like the back of his hand in that way, too. and you forgot how fucking skilful he could be when duty calls.

you find your brows furrowed and your hand clutching onto the sheets for dear life while johnny's tongue relentlessly flicks against your clit. he eats like it's his last meal, both hands holding your thighs open. the warmth of his tongue makes you shiver, already feeling your slick leaking in between your cheeks.

obscene noises bounce off the walls of the new place, sheets already messy from your constant thrashing although everything else — the cupboards, the bedside table, the vanity — looked untouched. at least now you know this innerspring mattress was a good choice.

"you- fuck, johnny!" your moans only fuel your lover more, who settles into a more comfortable position, suctioning your bud into his mouth. your body twitches so much that you can feel the tightening of his grasp on your thighs, stilling you into a thrilling sensation of oversensitivity even before he's got himself buried in you.

"argh- fuck, fuuuck, mhnh-!" johnny swears his eyes roll back at the way you groan out multiple please's, which merges with the whimpers for him to go faster and deeper just as he sticks a finger in. your cunt clasps around the digit easily, mouth now speechless from how deep he reaches into you. "oh my god, j-johnny!"

johnny slips in a second finger, and a second later, a third which you easily welcome with your sopping pussy. he pumps all three into you at an agonisingly slow pace, half focusing on the lewd noises coming from below him and half licking up the arousal that lingers around his lips.

the hooded lids of his eyes stare up at you like prey, lowering his tongue back onto your clit. the combination makes you unravel, little mewls escaping your lips that contribute to the heat of the room.

"johnny- please fuck- please- can you fuck me now? c-can't-"

he shuts you up by sucking harder, causing your thighs to close in around his head. your pleas is not lost to him, but you're more focused now on chasing your high selfishly with how fucking good he's working his tongue despite the slow speed of his fingers.

"impatient." lick. "little." lick. "bitch." lick. he's loving every second where he doesn't give into you. "plus, you're gonna have to do more than that, honey."

"i-i need your cock, please, johnny!"

tut tut. "wrong name, baby." you whimper when his fingers slowly slip out, teasing your gummy walls by rubbing at your hole. you hardly can form any words, but you try your best anyway.

"c-cock, daddy- want your cock so fucking bad-"

"again."

sinking further into the delirious feeling of pleasure, you're willing to let go of any dignity just to have him deep in you, shooting loads and loads of his seed where there's no room for you to not get pregnant. "ah- d-daddy, please- i need your cock to split me open!"

"n-need your cum." the fingers halt, johnny's eyes are filled with you splitting your legs wider and wider. your hole is begging for him, clenching around nothing as it leaks more and more.

he hardly can contain his excitement, pants shimmied down to reveal his tight boxers. it's straining against his already hardened length, and he sighs in relief when he finally pulls the last remaining fabric down showing his tip that's angrily red, aching to be in you just by a few pumps of his hand. "all for you, pretty girl."

the name elicits a bashful smile from you, "need a suck, daddy?"

johnny caresses your sensitive sex gently, "'s okay, just wanna be deep in you. ain't that right, babygirl?"

you can taste him on your lips as he kisses you softly, a hand reaching up to stroke your cheek with a ghost of a touch. his eyes soften just a little before he nudges it into you, playing with your cunt just a little that deliciously clasps around the intrusion. a long groan leaves his lips when he finally gets deep into you, bottoming out in no time. smoothly, he slips an arm around your waist, supporting your arching back that grinds to feel more of him.

"that's right, baby, just like that. moan for me." his thrusts start out slow and you want to cum just from those few movements, his shaft brushing up against your walls so obscenely. your moans are like music to him, lips occasionally lingering at his ears where your repeated calls of daddy, daddy makes his thighs shake and his hips stutter.

you're certain you're drooling by now, trapping the man with your legs. his hips move quicker now, muttering praises that has your pussy fluttering around him and arms curling more around his neck. the line blurs more and more and all that's residing in your head is how good he feels in you paired with the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips meeting your cunt. gradually, the knot deep in your tummy tights like a coil, aching for release.

"god! j-johnny... you're so fucking deeep... hah-" with a tongue lolled out, you can only mumble short sentences, sometimes choked out in a sad attempt to call out to your lover. "ah- i am, a-aren't i? can't wait to- fuck- pump you full of my cum. want you filled to the brim, you'd like that, yeah?"

like a broken record, there's a chorus of yes's that leave you, at the thought of seeing your pussy struggling to take the many loads of johnny's seed as you whine and thrash at the way he'd push it back into you. and that's exactly what he plans to do.

he grunts when you tighten around him, jerking and transitioning into shorter, quicker strokes, desperate for release until he finally bursts. head buried in your neck, hot breaths littering your skin. you're not far behind, toes curling at the immense pleasure you're experiencing that when it comes, you shiver at the way you come undone, relishing in the way johnny spurts the warm liquid into you.

you're left to rest for a minute, his cock still buried in you. he can't get enough of you, he can never get enough of you. that's why he finds himself fucking into you again, the amount of rest not doing much for your sensitive body. it overwhelms you so much that you can't help but let your wanton moans fill the room, riddled with not a single thought.

"you feel so good around me, baby." johnny takes your legs, lifting them up from the previous missionary position. his cock delves deeper the same time he presses them into your chest, eliciting a shameless cry from you, begging him to move. "just to be certain, hm? gotta be sure that you're full of my cum — so i'd have the pleasure of seeing your belly swell up with my baby, your boobs full with milk."

"plus, i'm gonna need to be sure that i'm gonna become a daddy." using an arm to hold your legs down, the free hand grasps onto yours that's holding onto the headboard. he misses the first time, but catches your fingers in time with his thrusts.

"daddy... hah- please, you're filling me up so g-- so good!"

johnny groans, impaling you with his dick with a speed faster by the thousands compared to the previous round. with your legs tucked snugly to your chest, you can do nothing but plead with your eyes for any sort of relief.

"cum- cumming! cumming! jo- johnnyyy..." with a scream of his name, you're gushing around his length, head making a terrible indent into the softness of your pillows. your mouth grows lax, drool leaking from all sides of your mouth before the other's thrusts falter bit by bit. you take his cock to the hilt, balls twitching from releasing into you.

"fuck, baby, take it- take all of it in your pussy." he shoots another load deep into your cunt and you feel sticky all of a sudden, coming down from the intense high of the dizzying state you were always put in whenever johnny was in you. with a kiss to your twined hands, johnny murmurs out i love you to your fingers, planting another kiss on the silver ring that you donned.

weakly, you reply. "love you too, so much." although, you're confused when the other doesn't pull out.

"it's a plug. so i don't have to worry about you not getting a positive on that pregnancy test." you giggle at that. giving into him even when your legs return to their natural state. tenderly, johnny manoeuvres you onto your side, his still hard length resting in you and his hands move to your ass, squeezing it that makes you squeal softly. "it's a win-win. i get a baby, and you won't have to clean the sheets."

"oh my god," your words are littered with laughter, exchanging small talk with the slowly darkening sky with the promise of a little one and a lifetime with johnny suh, the man who'd given you the stars and the moon if you'd asked.

[muffindaddystyles]

Hershey Fucker.

Author's Note; here lies the great memory of long hair Harry. Long gone but never forgotten. A smut to make you clench your legs together, *laughs in evil*. Don't forget to gimme some love :(

Kaleidoscopic lights flares around you as you stirred the straw of your margarita dodging the glunk of strawberry. Your eyes anchored at the spindiling lean figure of the emerald eyed monster, jaw tight that of greek god, umber spiral of curls kissing the sharply cuts of his face and it glows as if he has used your highlighter.

You scoff when he puckers his lips around the rim of whiskey giving a fist bump in praise.

It's been going on from the time you stepped inside the club. He's being a pain in arse. Having none of shame giving a harsh squeeze to your butt while leading you, leaning close to whisper words straight outta dirty erotica, throwing you his signature cocky smirks and brush of noses while he adjusted his daddy long legs nudging them in between your knees as you both sat on the high-stools of the bar.

You shake your head in exasperation smiling to yourself when he caught the wrist of bartender pointing at it with slurred eyes and bubbly lips, "nice tat, lad. looks sexy on ya." You know he's trying to make you jealous on purpose and it's quite endearing to see him try.

It makes your pussy weep, in all honesty. The fact that he's flirtatious in nature and when he speaks it feels like roses are falling from his lips would never fail to make you find him more ethereal. He owns that kinky charisma.

He kept on side glancing you while doing his antiques. Chatting with the bartender and complementing him with a lopsided grin, taking your hand for agreement because he's that annoying.

You practically lunges over him straddling his knee to brush your crimson coated lips agaisnt his earlobe while you whisper.

"Wanna go home." He furrows his brows together clearing his throat and gesturing you with his sparkling daunting gaze ','s that so?' when you sit back leaving a satisfied red smudgnes at his earlobe and higher jaw. You bob your head patting his knees and before your hands could sneak any higher he grabbed them, chugging the last of his whiskey and ruffling his wild tresses back to stand both of you on feet.

"Hmm. Was 'avin', fun weren't ye'?" He asks looping his forearms around your front protectively and keeping you close to him while making an exit from the crowd.

"Ehm. dunno, hot bartender." He scrunches his nose at this pinching your hip-bone rasping out in his thick chapel's accent.

"Thought ye'r same thought, babe." You cackle at this loudly gasping audibly when the cold zephyr of London enveloped you. He immediately kisses your head stroking his thumb against the nape of your neck.

"'Ere lemme be ye'r personal heater." He cacoons the warm coat he's wearing around your body pulling you to his chest, his exposed pecks coming in contact with your own bare shoulders making both of you hiss. "Better hurry up, wan' to get wrapped 'round your warmth." You laugh at his chaotic humour hitting him with elbow.

On reaching the car that's parked at the very end of parking lot you spin in his hold gazing deep into his jade and he sucks his bottom lip inside his mouth when you grab his face, squishing his blushed chill cheeks in process.

You part your lips infront of him glazing your wet tongue all over your plump lips to give him a little show before pulling him closer to smear them against his stiff ones, you kiss him sloppily letting your saliva drool around the corners of his lips lapping onto his tongue messily.

"Mhmp. Ye' know your sloppiness turn meh on s' bad." He grunts with fog huffing out sliding his large palm under your thigh to grope your ass and haul your leg around his waist as you lean over the bonnet of car. He glides his thumb from your decolletage to the hilt of your chin tilting it to deepen the already erotic kiss, tasting the insides of your cheeks.

He captures your bottom lip in between his bunny teeth pulling it with floppy sound. He looks down upon you with lust blow irirses wide spreading his legs to straddle your bare thighs and to rub his knee against your soaked centre.

"Meh filthy girl's jealous t' 'er fuckin' core, innit?" You shake your head left and right in utter innocence. He laughs at your effort. Degradingly, intimidatingly rough from his chest that prominents your heavy breathing and a soapy patch of arousal in your thong.

"Now lyin' t' meh aren't ya, bunny." He smirks with stern brows tapping your chin and your dainty squeak traps in your lungs when he yanks you off the bonnet against the door side of the car squeezing between the two cars for less visibility of the dirty things they're about to do.

He kisses the dip where your shoulder meets your neck trailing his parted lips between your breasts tweaking your nipples harshly from the flimsy cloth, "not jealous, right?" He mumbles grazing his teeth against your jawline pecking the corner of your lips.

"No." You choke out slip shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against the window as he thrusts the buldge of his thick hard cock in his pants against your cunt, one hand gripping your hip with bruising force you love other around your throat.

"Not even if I'll be...on me knees fo' him? He heaves out flushing your sweaty chests together and your eyes rolls to your skull with his pressure building on your throat, you grind against him with moans of ecastasy him perfectly rubbing up and down between your weepy pussy lips.

He smirks in victory knowing it's warming you up so he continues in slurred seductiveness, "no' when I'll beg fo' his cock in me mouth? fo' him to deep throat meh, t' fuck me mouth?" You whimper. Shivering hands reaching for him, instead of grabbing them as he usually do with gentleness he wrapped his one palm around your wrists locking them atop your head roughly.

He slaps your pussy and you ducked forward crying out with pleasure into his chest. He tugs at your thong ripping it to shreds and stuffing it to his pocket, "when I'll spread me legs fo' him...." His hard on poking against your stomach as he toyed with your clit. He swipes the tip of his fingers up and down circling it around your weeping hole collecting your moisturizer and snaking it up past your mound and tummy to nipples wetting them. Actually, making a complete mess of you.

"Harry..." You whine raising your hips and he spanks your thigh tapping your chin to open up stuffing his fingers into your mouth, "shut up and suck." You swirls your tongue around his slender digits; a string of saliva attached with your lips as he pulled them out.

"Tell meh ye're jealous, 'n I'll give ye'r tight pussy meh fingers." He pinches your clitoris flickering it into rapid motions, "wh-why should i? when m' not." you spurts out. Tears in your eyes as he eggs you on removing his fingers the moment you were about to soak his digits.

He tuts pushing his dick hard against you, "ye' wouldn't if he'd fuck meh in arse again 'n again, if he'd take me in his mouth 'n play with meh balls like yeh do?" He asks in a low voice looking down in between himself and you, the sight makes him growl as he gave a minute to your imaginations to run wild.

"Ah..ah–daddy, please." You're thrashing in his arms but he doesn't give much attention to it spitting on your cunt and fondling with your sensitive nerves. Harry's a prick that gets what he wants even when you're dripping down your legs for him.

"Answer meh, Y/N! Wouldn't ask again." He grits with a threatening voice and you bobbed your head vigorously. "Use ye'r words." He hovers his middle finger over your entrance.

"Course, I will." He pecks your lips with satisfied grin shoving his middle finger knuckles deep inside your sloppy pussy without any warning causing you to go feral that he had to hold you in one place, "warm like always." He grunts slipping it in and out joining another. Curling it against your spongy walls to quench out moans and whimpers from you.

He digs his teeth inside the flesh of your shoulder and you coiled your arms around him tightly, "oh my god, fuck. fuck. fuck." Your shouts muffles against him as he continuously massaged your g-spot, siscorsing his fingers to fuck you raw with them. He cups his calloused palm and rubs the heel of it against your swollen clit.

"Tell daddy how ye' feel." You kneaded your breasts stuttering with difficulty, "'s good daddy but wan' your cock, inside me." He thwacks your bum groping it and roughly slamming his fingers inside you his metal cold rings brushing against your sticky pussy lips.

"Don't like it when yeh act greedy." You ignore his sharp tone sensing your orgasm build in your tummy and spreading like a wildfire to your bones.

"'cum–m'. May..I come, daddy? Please." You rocked on his hand using his shoulders for leverage, "cum like a sweet good girl yeh are." He says kissing you slowly and you tugged at the lapels of his coat cumming hard on his fingers coating it with your thick cum.

He hugged you swaying you feet to feet one hand still pushing inside you with brutal pace to take every drop from you. His wrist glistening with your cum and wetness in an instant his mood switching, "backseat, spread your legs. I wan' your pussy ready fo' me."

.

MASTERLIST.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet (1)

Warnings: this series will be a shorter one and will include blood/blood kink, cutting, noncon, and other triggers to be warned in future parts.

This features Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and is explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You unintentionally find yourself at an awkward impasse with your boyfriend's best friend.

Note:

So, I’m transferring this over from ao3! It’s two parts so far but I just kept procrastinating so if you didn’t see it over there, here it is on Tumblr.

I love you all and I always cherish your feedback and comments and wouldn't mind some on this piece here as well. It's never an obligation but always loved.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It felt like you were always waiting on Steve. He was an important man and his time was equally as important. It wasn’t a surprise that he was so divided between his personal and professional life and you weren’t bitter for it. You learned to live with it. It was a precious sort of patience knowing that when his time was yours, it was spent without waste.

You sat with your phone pressed to your thigh. You were early but when it came to Steve, you were always early. You’d headed over right after work and he warned you his meeting might go late. You didn’t mind the wait so much. You knew most of his colleagues in the tower and it was almost like a second home.

You flipped your phone and checked the time again. You frowned. Even if time passed quickly, it felt too long. Those minutes dwindling that you could be with Steve. You couldn’t be upset; his work was demanding and at times, dire. And he was worth the wait.

As you sighed and flicked through your apps, looking for a distraction, you were startled by a shadow in your peripheral. Bucky had a habit of sneaking up on you and everyone else. His steps were light and measured. You glanced over as he waved to you with two fingers, his other hand clung to a slender metal box. You eyed it as you said ‘hello’ and dropped your phone into your purse.

“Waiting on Steve again?” He stopped on the other side of the empty chair behind you.

“He’s just wrapping up,” you shrugged, “What are you still doing here? You’re usually the first one out.”

“Oh, uh, just picking something up,” he gestured to the box. “Thought I’d stick around and get some practice in.”

You raised a brow and looked at the box again. “Well, what’s the mystery?”

“Ah,” he sat beside you and shifted in the chair. He rested the box on his leg and gripped the lid. He stopped himself and peered over at you. “I lent this to Sam on a mission and he didn’t return it in one piece.” He slowly unclasped the case and opened it. “It’s my favourite combat knife. A kabar. Not standard army issue, but I made a barter for it as we were taking over for a company of Marines.”

You eyed the long knife and its thick handle. Your eyes rounded. You weren’t unused to the presence of weapons but Bucky was so casual about it, it was almost scary.

“Oh,” you blinked, “Wait, you mean, way back…”

“1944.” He declared as he took it off the cushion, “It’s a relic. Well, the handle at least.” He balanced it with his vibranium finger, “You see?”

He turned the handle towards you. You eyed the butt where three letters had been engraved along the metal joint; JBB. You tilted your head as you leaned closer.

“Here,” he made it wobble, “Take it.”

“What? No… I don’t think I should,” you laughed.

“Go on. It’s fine.” He goaded, “What else are you gonna do? Your old man’s sure taking his time.”

“I’m not to be trusted with sharp objects,” you kidded, “If Steve was here, he’d tell you as much.”

“Boo,” he chided, “Don’t worry. I’ve trained greener than you. Just keep your hand on the handle and your fine.”

He waved the handle toward you and you tutted. Reluctantly, you accepted the knife and held it to the light as you admired the blade. It was large and you shuddered as you imagined it slicing through human flesh. You had no doubt it would do so easily.

“It’s a nice knife,” you remarked as you turned it in your hand, “Here.”

You slowly offered it to him but in your haste to be rid of the kabar, it slid in your grasp. You overcompensated for the slip and fumbled it completely. Without thinking and against Bucky’s sudden ‘don’t’, you tried to catch it before it could fall. The edge of the blade sliced your palm before the knife embedded in the floor.

You hissed and recoiled as you held your hand. Bucky shoved the metal box from his thigh and lowered it onto the floor. He turned to you and stared at your bloody palm as you tried to stems the flow.

“Shit,” he searched his pockets, “Are you okay?”

He got up and grabbed the box of tissues from the table on the other side of you. He sat again and pressed a wad of six tissues to your hand as he cradled it. He pushed and you winced with a whimper.

“Gotta apply pressure to slow the flow,” he said, “You’re fine. Probably just need some stitches.”

“Stitches?” You gulped, “Oh.”

You felt woozy as the sight of your own blood. You flinched as he clung to your hand, sandwiched between both of his as the tissue turned red. You heard footsteps along the next hall and you peeked over your shoulder as another appeared at behind you.

“Hey, you two,” Steve chimed, “Funny you ran into--” He choked on his words and rushed forward. “Woah, what happened?”

Steve knelt beside your chair and as good as snatched your hand from Bucky. The movement made your hand throb and Bucky watched Steve with a frown. He stood with a grumble and retrieved his knife from the floor and scooped up the box. Steve moved into the empty chair without looking.

“What were you doing?” Steve snapped.

“I dropped his knife. I was… well, you know how clumsy I can be.” You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

“His knife?” Steve looked back at Bucky and quickly turned back to you, “You let her play with that thing?”

“She’s not a kid, Steve,” Bucky sniffed.

“Maybe not but she got hurt,” Steve snipped.

Bucky pursed his lips and was silent Steve continued to mop up the blood as you watched the other man. Bucky lifted the knife and looked it over. You saw a tint of red along its edge and his blue eyes traced it before he lowered it into the case. He snapped it shut and held it in his metal hand as he left bloody fingerprints on it with his other.

He paused and held up his real hand. He turned it and looked at you between his fingers. His cheek twitched and his eyes returned to his stained flesh. His mouth curved slightly and he brought his fingers closer to his face and seemed to smell them. You gasped as Steve jostled your hand and Bucky poked out his tongue to drag it over your blood as it dripped his knuckles. His fingertips lingered on his lips and he pushed two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. He took a deep breath and his dusky eyes bore into you. You were stunned. Were you hallucinating from blood loss? It couldn’t be that bad.

You looked down and Steve checked beneath the tissues.

“Come on. We should head down to Med and get you some stitches,” Steve stood and drew you up with him. With your hand in one of his, he reached over and took your purse from the table. “Well, now you know not to play with knives.” Steve spun and pulled you along, “And you know not to let her.” He reproached Bucky.

“She’s fine. It’s shallow.” Bucky said, though his voice was thick and stunted.

“This time,” Steve rebuffed and kept, “Come on, sweetheart.”

“See ya later, I guess,” Bucky called after you.

“Later,” Steve said sharply without pause.

🩸

Steve didn’t stay mad for long, if he ever was. His worry often got the best of him. He even said it himself and apologized. He dealt with enough blood on the job, he didn’t need it at home. You agreed it was stupid but it wasn’t Bucky’s fault; it was just an accident. You promised, at least, to stick to kitchen knives.

You also made sure that Steve apologized to Bucky. You felt bad after you were all stitched up and thought of the defeat in his voice. Yet, you couldn’t shake the image of Bucky licking your blood from his fingers. You were sure you’d imagined it. You had to have. You had been in so much pain and it had all happened so fast…

You pushed the thoughts away. You were stupid. It didn’t happen. Bucky wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t.

A week passed. You didn’t see him again, even when you waited for Steve. Stark was hosting another event and the tower was in a frenzy. Steve was being awarded for his humanitarian work and while Tony didn’t like sharing the spotlight, his name would be mentioned enough to assuage his ego.

Saturday came and you enjoyed a quiet morning as Steve went over his speech and you got ready together. You were still unused to being attached to him at these events; the cameras made you tense and the strangers had you reaching for another wine glass. He made it easier though; he reassured you when in doubt and was able to easily sweep you away from any awkward situation. Steve wasn’t the just the world’s saviour, he was yours.

You arrived and followed Steve past the press. He stopped to say a few words and take some photos but didn’t tarry long.

“Come on,” he pulled you through the doors, “There’ll be enough pictures inside.”

“Ow,” you moaned as he grabbed your bandaged hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he hooked his arm through yours instead, “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Me either.” You laughed.

“You know, if you knew how to keep hold of a knife, you might actually be a worthy opponent.”

“Maybe,” you poked his arm, “You better hope I never learn how.”

He chuckled and guided you around the bodies around you. Again, he stopped for pictures and bulbs flashed as he stood against a curtain backdrop. He greeted those he knew and patiently smiled at the introductions of those he didn’t. You stayed close as he made certain to include you in each interaction. He never forgot about you and when formalities were over, he hugged your waist and sighed.

He led you to your assigned seats and you were happy to see familiar faces waiting for you, Nat, Wanda, Vision, Tony, and Pepper sat with drinks already half-gone as Bucky approached the table. You averted your eyes as he came to Steve and claimed the chair on his other side.

“How’s your hand?” Bucky asked as you sat.

“Healing,” you showed your bandage, “And your knife? It’s still in one piece?”

“I think it did a lot more damage on you,” he grinned and stared at you a moment before he turned to Steve, “Nervous yet?”

“Shut up, Buck,” Steve felt around his jacket and patted the cue cards hidden there.

“Oh come on, you’re always great,” Bucky scoffed.

“Compared to you? Easy.” Steve smirked.

“Hey,” Bucky elbowed him.

You reached for the glass of white wine and sipped. Natasha caught your attention as she asked about your dress and you lost yourself in a conversation about Wanda’s favourite soap.

Finally, the ceremony began as the tables quieted and Steve pulled your hand over onto his thigh as he squeezed it nervously. You ignored the pain it caused and leaned against him.

“You’ll be alright,” you whispered.

He smiled and turned to kiss your cheek. “How am I gonna think of anything but getting that dress off tonight?”

“Steve,” you uttered and rubbed his thumb with yours.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed and nuzzled your temple before he looked forward again.

You clung to his hand even as it made the bandage chafe against your stitches. You tried to listen but found yourself squirming. His words lingered and you felt giddy. It had been a few days; the two of you worn out from your jobs, your plans often ended in you falling asleep before they could come to fruition.

When Steve was called to accept his award, the crowd stood and you did too. As they applauded, you clapped the back of your hand with other. As Steve made his way to the stage, you felt a shift beside you. A warm scent rose in your nostrils, a subtle cologne, and you felt an arm brush against yours.

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed as he stood close.

You looked over at him as he grinned, his eyes on the stage. You shook your head and turned back to watch Steve.

“You tasted delicious,” he muttered as he leaned closer. Your hands froze and he reached to touch the back of the bandage wound around it.

You bit down and didn’t dare look at him. You resumed your pathetic applause as Steve climbed onto the stage and Bucky clapped loudly beside you. As the audience quieted and sat, he reluctantly resumed his own seat, Steve’s empty chair between you.

You shivered as Steve stood behind the microphone. He bent his cue cards then peeked at them before he began to speak. You were distracted as you sensed something beside you. You peered over as Bucky’s fingertips tapped against his thigh.

His eyes caught yours and he bowed his head. You looked down again as he brushed his hand over his crotch and pushed his shoulders back. Your eyes flicked up to his face and he winked. You tore your gaze away as your ears buzzed and you could barely decipher Steve’s voice. It wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. And yet, that ache between your legs was even more persistent.

🩸

Steve’s hands were on you before you even closed the door. All night, he’d been sneaking touches; your arm, your hip, your ass. His eyes stuck to you now and then as he took in the praise of another admirer but you could tell, despite his nods, he wasn’t really in the moment.

You heard the lock click as he tugged at the back of your dress. You looked back at him and giggled.

“At least let me get these damn things off,” you looked at the strappy heels.

“Fuck your shoes,” he spun you to him and turned you against the slim table beside the shoe mat. “I’ve waited long enough.”

He lifted you onto the table and your shoulders hit the wall. You braced the edge as he pushed between your legs and crashed his lips into yours. Your cheeks burned and the sensation spread through your body as he crumpled your skirt in his fingers, pulling it further and further up your legs.

You grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pushed it down his shoulders. He rescinded his arms long enough to shed it and let it drop to the floor with a woosh. You yanked on his tie as you kept your mouth moving against his. He forced your skirt higher and you lifted your ass as the cool air brushed the thin fabric of your panties.

He purred and you squeezed him between your thighs. You fiddled with his belt until it came undone and quickly unzipped his fly. You rolled his pants down and hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his brief. You drew your hands to the front and pulled the top of his underwear down past his erection.

You stroked him and he gasped into your mouth. He threw his head back and shoved his hand between your legs. He pulled aside the crotch of your pants and slid his fingers along your folds. He teased you and cradled your face as he kissed you again. Your legs bent in anticipation.

You continued to tease his length as you moved closer to him. You guided him along your cunt as his fingers played with your clit. He smeared your arousal along his tip and you angled him against your entrance. He pushed into you, nearly taking you off the table as he gripped your chin and nibbled at your bottom lip.

He thrust as you teetered on the edge, his thumb pressed to your bud. You moaned and hung your head back. He hummed as his hand slipped down to your neck and his thick fingers spread over your throat. He held you firmly, as if he were tempted to squeeze as he rocked. You felt the pressure threaten for an instant and he let out a heavy breath. His hand fell to your chest and he fondled you as his hips kept a steady rhythm.

You arched your back and kept a hand on the table as you moved with him. He rubbed your clit as he pulled your dress down below your tits. He tweaked your nipple and buried his face in your neck. You panted as you bent your legs around him and welcomed him even deeper.

He grunted loudly through laboured breaths as the fabric of your clothing caught and clung between your bodies. You grasped the back of his neck as he plunged into you over and over. Your core thrummed and bumps rose along your skin. You whined as your orgasm blossomed and fell over you in a haze. Your eyes rolled back and you held onto Steve desperately as you longed for more.

He pushed you back until you were against the wall and snaked his hand under your leg. He pushed your knee up so that your foot was by his head and slammed into you. He pinned you and rutted with eager growls. Your lashes fluttered and you stared back at his fiery blue eyes. He watched you as you writhed and whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against yours and his hot breath surrounded you. He groaned and muffled his climax as it shook his body. He jerked into you sharply as he came and the table knocked the wall with each tilt of his hips. He kept on until he was breathless and you were splayed and tender around him.

He brought two fingers up under your chin and kissed you. His hand fell and he played with the loose strap of your dress as it sagged down your arm.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” He asked as he b`rushed his nose against yours.

“You think you’ll make it that far,” you murmured.

“We’ll get there,” he lifted you and kept you around him. “Eventually.”

[clonecaptains]

MAKE YOUR MARK; a whiskey x reader fic

rated: m for sexual themes, some dirty talk

word count: a little over 1k

summary: waking up with whiskey in the morning

a/n: this is going to be a new series of fics feat our fave cowboy who deserves better!!!! this is a little au ive concocted - and these little fics will all fit in this universe! the fics won’t necessarily be in any kind of order - just little slices of life etc. also if you have any requests for a little fic in this au i welcome it! 

The sunlight peeks through the curtains onto your bedroom floor. It’s early. You weren’t quite ready to get up yet. You had no where to be, no reason to get up. So you snuggle deeper under the covers. The sheets soft against your skin. It’s only now you’re remembering that you’re naked. A warm feeling shoots down all the way to your toes at the memory of the night before.

Warm lips sucking your tits, mustache bristles scraping your flesh. Denim rubbing against your sex, riding his thigh. Southern drawl in your ear, a firm hand grabbing and then spanking your ass. Warm body on top of yours, sweet praises whispered. His mouth and hands never stopped moving.

That mouth is slightly agape now, he’s snoring a little. It’s endearing in a way.

You can’t see his face when you roll over, the back of his head is what you see. That, and his broad shoulders. Both arms are under his pillow, and his hair is a complete mess. You smile to yourself knowing when he gets up he’ll fix it. He takes great pride in his hair.

Looking at his shoulders where the sheets have moved down, you see little crescents on his skin from your nails digging into him. He’d say it was a badge of honor.

You don’t want to wake him, you just want to admire your sleeping husband for a few moments. You enjoy watching his shoulders move slowly as he breathes. A little snort escapes every couple minutes and it makes you want to laugh. If you could see his face, you’d guess there was drool coming out of his mouth. He sleeps hard now. Harder than he has before.

He’s told you stories of how little rest he got in his old life.

You first met Whiskey when he was a Statesman. He swept you off your feet, and he fall hard in love with you. But being in a relationship of that nature wasn’t good for business. It put lives in danger. He didn’t want to live without you. So with the help of fellow agents, he got out. Faked his own death. The next day he married you and took you home to a farm in the Kentucky countryside.

And that’s where you reside.

It’s a simple life. Quiet. He thrives in it, you both do. He’s always on the move, doing something to keep himself busy. His current project is building a deck out back. You keep up a small garden, it is a farm after all. And there’s a few horses in the stables.

Today you have plans for a picnic out in the fields. You’re looking forward to it.

You sigh at the thought, maybe a little too loud because your sleeping husband beside you stirs. He lets out a soft groan and sits up, cracking his neck and popping his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you whisper, “I woke you.”

“Nah,” he replies, cracking his neck again. “‘s alright little darlin’. Needed to get up anyway.”

The sheets moved with his body as he sat up, giving you an unobstructed view of his whole back. The muscles move under his skin as he stretches. It’s a wonderful view.

He turns and catches you staring. He raises a brow and smirks, “you see somethin’ ya like little darlin’?” he winks and leans down to kiss your lips. He laughs into the kiss when you laugh, and he peppers your face all over with kisses.

“Whiskey!!!!” you shriek as he starts to tickle you under the covers.

“Sugar, you don’t have to call me that,” he teases nibbling your ear.

After he faked his death, he changed his name. Whiskey was his code name, but it’s always been a nickname to you, so it’s just stuck.

“I’ll call you what I want,” you laugh wrapping your arm around his neck.

“Just don’t call me late for dinner,” he kisses your cheek and lays back down on his back.

You lay down next to him, and he wraps an arm around you and pulls you to him. You cuddle in his embrace and press a kiss wherever your lips can reach. Your lips feel a little dry, so you start to sit up to put on chapstick.

“Where you goin’?” he teases and wraps his arm around you tight.

“I need chap stick!” you laugh and pull free of his ‘grip.’

“Darlin’, you wore me OUT last night. Whoo,” he laughs while you swipe the lip balm on your lips.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask leaning back down. Instead of curling into his side, you smooth his messy hair off his forehead and press a kiss down on his skin. When you pull back you realize it wasn’t chapstick you put on but your red lipstick.

You smirk a little, deciding to have some fun with this.

His eyes are closed, but he’s still talking, chatting away about how good you were for him last night and how damn good your pussy feels. You’re flushing under his compliments, but all the while pressing kisses all over his face, leaving lipstick marks all over. You kiss the corners of his mouth, his lips, his cheeks, forehead, nose, between his eyebrows. All over that handsome face, even his close eyelid.

He’s none the wiser, it’s not uncommon for you to kiss him like this. He’s quite used to your affections. He lives for it.

“Whiskey?”

“Hmm?” he opens one eye and raises a brow.

You only smile, seeing his face completely covered in red lipstick stains.

“Nothin’,” you laugh shaking your head.

“What?” he sits up and yanks off the covers exposing you to him. “What are you up to sugar??” he starts to tickle you again, making you laugh.

With a big hand, he captures you wrists and pins them above his head. With his free hand, he wraps his fingers around your neck. He holds you there and leans down about to kiss your lips, when he stops. His eyebrow raised again, this time a smirk follows.

“Did you put on lipstick?” he smirks. You see his dimples, which you also kissed, have lipstick marks on them too.

Still smirking, he leans down to capture your lips with his. Your lips part, and his tongue tastes your lips.

“I didn’t mean to,” you giggle when he pulls away.

“Mhmm,” he laughs pulling away. He has to know what he looks like, so he hops off the bed and you watch his cute bare butt as he walks into the bathroom.

He flicks on the light, and lets out a loud whistle.

“Damn! I look good like this!” he pokes his head out looking at you. And he is right, he does look good like that. His hair all messy, bright red lipstick stains covering his face.

“I got you all marked up,” you laugh.

“It’s a damn shame. A damn shame,” he tuts and slowly walks back into the bedroom.

“What is?” your eyebrows crease in question.

“You got me all marked up,” he says, kneeling on the bed. “But you? You’re clean as a whistle.”

Understanding his meaning, your face heats up.

“Why don’t you uh, fix that then cowboy?” you blush.

“I think I will sugar. Think I will,” he purrs.

The picnic had to take a rain check. Plans for the day are pushed back due to Whiskey covering your entire body with hickies and a delicious burn from that mustache.

//

full taglist and masterlist coming soon!!

tagging - @pascalispedro, @pascalisthepunkest, @pajamasecrets, @spacedadheadcanons, @pascalplease, @lannister-slings-and-arrows, @rzrcrst, @coredrive, @hystericalmedicine, @tarrevizslas, @pedroispunk, @thewaythisis, @cptnbvcks, @mandoplease (if you want to be added or removed from this list LET ME KNOW PLS)

[bleedinghearthalstead]

SWAT!Jay / Upstead AU

A/N: Part 8! My take on Upstead at the shooting range. Crossposted on AO3, link on my blog.

"Before we start shooting," Jay says in his best teacher voice, "we're gonna familiarize ourselves with the weapon first."

Hailey sighs. "Jay, I told you I just wanted to shoot the damn thing once."

"Before we start shooting," Jay says in his best teacher voice, "we're gonna familiarize ourselves with the weapon first."

Hailey sighs. "Jay, I told you I just wanted to shoot the damn thing once." She has been begging Jay since they started dating and he's finally caved, but she certainly didn't expect her boyfriend to go all firearms instructor on her. It's 8 a.m. on a Sunday and they drove almost an hour outside the city to go to Jay's favorite outdoor shooting range. The owner greeted Jay like an old friend, immediately putting a box of the right ammo on the counter and telling him that his usual lane all the way in the back was free. Of course it was free, Hailey thinks, it's 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Jay tuts at her. "If you want to handle the damn thing, I'm gonna show you how to properly disassemble, clean and reassemble the Remington M24 Sniper Weapon System." He opens the rifle case and reverently takes out the M24, laying it out on a blanket that he's already spread out in front of where they're kneeling on the ground.

It's kind of fascinating to watch Jay disassemble the rifle with practiced ease. He's not even looking at what he's doing with his hands, removing the parts one by one by muscle memory, mostly looking at Hailey while he explains what every part is and does, making sure that she's paying attention. Once he has the rifle reassembled, he takes out a pouch with cleaning utensils and shows Hailey how to "maintain performance standard", brushing and scrubbing the inside of the barrel and wiping down the rest.

"Jay," Hailey groans, "you do remember that I've handled rifles before, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "Of course, but you gotta handle Loretta with care."

She stares at him with wide eyes, trying to hold back her laugh. "You named your sniper rifle 'Loretta'?"

Jay warns her, "If you laugh, I'm gonna pack up and leave." Hailey bites her lip trying hard not to laugh. Glaring at her, he folds up the bipod on the rifle with a snap.

"No no no, wait!" Hailey puts her hands on his to stop his movements and gives him an innocent smile, then schools her face into one of pure devotion. "Please teach me the Halstead way."

"I swear to God…" At her pout, he huffs. "Alright, fine." Hailey grins and claps her hands in excitement. "But you gotta let me do this my way."

"I promise I'll be good." He gives her the side-eye, but relents and continues with his lesson.

Clearing away all the tools he used to assemble and clean the weapon, he sets up the rifle on the blanket, right on the firing line, pointing it downrange. "The steadiest stance to shoot in is the prone position." He motions at Hailey. "Lie down on your stomach with your legs straight. Prop yourself up on your elbows." Tying her hair up in a messy ponytail first, she gets down on the ground and Jay gets up to adjust her arms and kicks her legs further apart until they form a nice Y-shape. Knowing she is a lefty, he continues, "Now put the butt of the rifle in your left shoulder close to your neck." Again, he moves her arms to the right positions ‑ right elbow on the ground just to the right of the rifle's forearm, right hand under the butt of the stock, left elbow on the ground, making sure that her shoulders are level. "Put your left hand on the pistol grip and pull the rifle into your shoulder."

Already comfortable in her position, Hailey rests her face firmly against the stock, looking straight down the sights. Letting her breath out slowly, she inches her trigger finger to its intended position, but before she can curl her finger around the trigger, Jay steps on her right foot. Her head snaps back and she glares at him. "Ow, what the hell, Jay!?"

He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly having seen that she was ready to pull the trigger. "Easy there, tiger. Your feet weren't flat on the ground-" He then smirks and holds up a single round with two fingers. "-and the rifle's not even loaded yet."

"Whoops." She lets out an embarrassed laugh, realizing that she let herself get caught up in the excitement of finally being allowed to hold the coveted sniper rifle after Jay's show-and-tell that lasted almost an hour. She doesn't think she's been this giddy about shooting a weapon since firearms training at the academy.

Jay shakes his head at her and laughs. He squats down next to her and instructs, "Raise the bolt handle and pull it all the way back." She does as she is told and he one by one pushes five cartridges down into the internal magazine. "Now slowly slide the bolt forward and push the handle down." When the handle slots into place, he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Loretta is now officially loaded."

Hailey rolls her eyes as he grins. "Can I shoot now?"

"Patience you must have, my young padawan."

"Please don't jump on my back." Hailey laughs. "Or make me carry you through a swamp."

"Feel the force!" Jay lets out an evil laugh in return and drops down on her back, making her squeal. Holding her down with his body weight but careful not to crush her, he starts tickling her sides, her arms trapped under her. Hailey squeals again and tries to buck up to push Jay off of her, but he doesn't budge. He does however stop tickling her and begins to kiss the side of her exposed neck instead, his hands roaming up and down her sides. She lets out a low moan and tilts her head up to give Jay a better angle.

Her boyfriend is in the middle of sucking a hickey on her neck, but Jay's lips freeze on her skin when someone clears their throat next to them. "I don't mean to interrupt…"

Jay jumps up and gives the shooting range owner a sheepish smile. "Hey, Walt."

Walt gives them both a look like he's a disapproving parent admonishing two teenagers. "There's other people here too, Jay, so try to keep it clean, will ya?"

"Sorry, Walt. It won't happen again."

The older man nods, then leans closer to Jay and whispers, "She's cute." He winks at him and turns to walk back towards the front office.

Watching them from her position still lying on the ground, it's the first time Hailey has ever seen Jay blush. She giggles. "Well, that was awkward."

"That was one dad talk that I didn't think I ever needed." Jay grimaces. "I might have to find a new shooting range."

Hailey snickers and slaps his ankle. "Calm down, let's just get back to teaching me how to become Badass Sniper Hailey."

Jay raises an eyebrow at her, then bows down and playfully slaps her butt. At her indignant look, he grins. "Let's get to it then, badass. Get back in the prone position." Checking her stance, he does some minor adjustments, then pulls out a spotter's scope from a compartment in the rifle case and lies down next to her. Using the scope to look downrange, he picks out a target for her about fifty yards away. Considering she does have experience with long guns, this should be an easy shot. "Target at fifty yards, you got it in your sights?"

Hailey looks up from the scope mounted on the rifle and scoffs at Jay. "Fifty yards? You serious right now?"

He sighs. "We'll work our way up. I want you to get used to the motions first."

"Fine." Huffing, Hailey goes back to looking down the sights. "Yeah, I got it."

"Any adjustments you need to make? The knob on the right side of the scope is for windage and the top knob is for elevation."

"No, I don't think so." Luckily for Hailey, it's a clear and sunny day with barely a breeze.

"Good. Now chamber a cartridge. Raise the bolt and pull it back until it stops. Push the bolt forward. The bolt removes a cartridge from the magazine and pushes it into the chamber. Push the bolt handle down." She follows his instructions and she can hear a round move into place. With the way Jay has been taking care of this weapon, it's no wonder the mechanics work so smoothly.

"To fire, switch off the safety and then squeeze the trigger. Now before you do, one last thing that is also one of the most important things when firing – your breathing has the most effect on your shot. Breathe in through your nose and slowly breathe out through your open mouth, try to relax and slow down your heart rate." He hears her take a couple of deep breaths. "Fire at will." Hailey breathes deeply a few more times before a shot rings out and hits the target with a metallic ping. "Good. You hit it between the 9 and 8 ring. So either there was some wind or you swayed to the left when you took your shot. Use the bolt action to chamber another round and try again." On the second shot that takes her considerably shorter to set up, Hailey hits the target inside the 10 ring. She's a fast learner and Jay beams at her in pride. "Let's move on to a hundred yards."

Jay lets Hailey take a few shots on the 100 yards target which she pretty much nails before he hands her another five cartridges and tells her to reload. Remembering what he showed her earlier, she easily manages the task and immediately chambers a cartridge, ready to shoot again. They continue moving from target to target in 50 yards increments. When they get to the 300 yards target and she hits it at the bottom of the 7 ring, she lets out an indignant huff. Jay chuckles at her. "We're shooting at a longer distance now, so you have to adjust the elevation on your scope."

Realigning her shot, Hailey hits the bullseye and her eyes widen when a metal plate on the target comes loose and reveals the words "will you". She is about to ask Jay what is up with that, but he has already moved on to their next target, telling her that he'll buy her a really nice bottle of champagne if she hits the bullseye on the first try. Challenge accepted, she again focuses on the target, this time taking her time to adjust the scope and concentrating on regulating her breathing. Deliberately squeezing the trigger, she hits the bullseye. Another metal plate folds down.

Instead of being pleased at herself for achieving the shot, having read the words on the target, she squeaks out a tiny "what" and turns up to Jay who is now on one knee next to her, holding a beautiful solitaire diamond ring out to her. "I know we've only been together for two years, but I love you so much and I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so..." He takes a deep breath and gives her a hopeful smile. "Hailey Upton, you hit me right in the heart, will you marry me?"

Hailey feels like she's going through some sort of out of body experience, but she doesn't even have to think about it. "Yes!" She throws herself at Jay and kisses him fiercely. He laughs into their kiss and wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Pulling back, Jay takes her left hand and slides the ring onto her finger. "It's my mom's ring," he whispers, "She would've loved you too."

Hailey's heart warms infinitely and she takes Jay's face into her hands to kiss him again. Breaking their kiss and leaning her forehead against his, she whispers back, "I love you."

"Congrats, kids!" There's the sound of a cork popping and Walt is back with a bottle of champagne and flutes. There's also cheering coming from far away that's moving closer and Hailey laughs and watches as Jay's team mates come running towards them from downrange, whooping and whistling loudly.

Jay grins. "Walt and the boys helped me set this up. Sorry for stepping on your foot, but you almost ruined your own proposal, they weren't done with the plates yet."

At that moment, the guys descend on where they were set up and Mitch slings an arm around each of them and gives them a bear hug yelling, "YAY, GUYS!"

They all laugh and Walt hands out champagne glasses to all of them. "To Hailey and Jay!" They all raise their glasses and cheers to the couple.

"Since we're here already …" Sam, Jay's spotter, pulls out a different rifle case out of nowhere. "I'm gonna beat you this time, Halstead."

Jay groans. "Dude, you're seriously bringing this up right now? I just got engaged!"

The two of them start bickering and the other team guys start laying in as well, but Hailey doesn't care, she's on cloud nine right now. This is definitely not how she imagined being proposed to, but it went down in pure Jay Halstead fashion and it's perfectly them.

They end up spending the rest of the day at the range, Jay and Sam, who is also an ex-army sniper, doing trick shots (and where did the cooler full of beer come from?) until Hailey leans down to Jay while he is lining up a shot and whispers, "Do I need to compete with Loretta or can I spend some time alone with my fiancé?"

Jay takes his shot, but doesn't even hit the target in the black and packs up his gear. The guys watch them knowingly and start wolf-whistling. Jay just gives them the finger and Hailey waves at them as he drags her behind him.

[twokinkybeans]

Kinktober Prompt Fill #10: Pinwheel

Find our full Kinktober post right here!

Summary: Ranch!AU - Peter seduces Tony into fucking him in the hay attic. Warnings: Seducing, Pinwheel, Mention of a Riding Crop, Half-Dressed Fuck, Dirty Talk, ‘Merican Accents

Read on AO3

Peter has a good ass. Full stop. That’s all the information anybody needs. It’s irrefutable. No one would deny it. Could deny it. Obviously, Tony feels disgusting for thinking it, but the way Peter arches his back- the way he sticks his butt out when he puts his foot in the stirrup as he climbs onto Bolt, his trusted mare, is near-damn obscene. Tony knows the boy is doing it for him, that he is trying to get into his pants. He’s been quite vocal about it too- well, not really to Tony himself, but the other stable hand, Michelle, has gotten quite an earful about what Peter thinks of the ranch owner. What he wants Tony to do to him. And shit, does he want to do it to Peter as well. Little did Peter and Michelle know that he could hear them. Often. And it had him rock hard every time. Tony doesn’t even hide his erection in his tight denim pants, sauntering through the exterior arena in his cowboy boots as Peter and Bolt circle him. Peter is obviously over-bucking his hips in the saddle with every step Bolt takes, grinding down into his seat. He rides his horse with an infuriatingly sensual grace. When Bolt has warmed up enough, Peter innocently turns his head to look at Tony and cocks his head. “Faster?” Tony swears inwardly as he nods, clearing his throat before speaking. “Speed up to a trot.” ... When Tony and Peter walk down the stables, it’s already late. Tony’s cowboy heels click with every step, the pinwheels at the ends clanking softly. Everyone has gone home and the horses curiously stick their heads out to watch the two men strolling the building. Peter stuck around, as he always does. Right when Tony turns to walk out and lock the barn door, he spots an empty trough. “Eric forgot to give Seven hay today.” He pauses, annoyed. “Again.” Tony straightens his back and takes a glance at Peter. “Mind helpin’ me fetch some for her?” “Of course, Mister Stark.” The mischievous gleam in his eye says enough. Peter planned this. It’s not long before they reach the attic where they store all the hay. Peter insists on going up the ladder first. For obvious reasons. Tony climbs after him, eyes locked on the round cheeks straight ahead. Peter sways his hips seductively, so it’s no surprise that the second they reach the top, he grabs Peter by the belt and tosses him against the hay stack, kissing him feverishly while cupping Peter’s pert butt. Peter doesn’t even act surprised. Instead, he grins, knowing he won the game. “About time, Sir,” he quips with a smirk, mingling their hot breaths with a chuckle. Tony just growls, shrugging his casually unbuttoned red and faded yellow gingham shirt off his shoulders. Peter rushes to rip Tony’s tank top off his chest. When Tony reaches for his belt, Peter stops him. “Me first?” He bats his eyelashes innocently, making Tony scoff darkly. “Needy, needy,” he tuts, caressing Peter’s jaw before undressing him, peppering his nose and lips with soft kisses. Peter’s blush goes all the way down his chest, cock standing tall and proud. He whines when Tony pulls back, loosening his own belt and unzipping his fly to take out his dick. He casually leans back until he sits down on the stack and he pats his denim jeans invitingly. He sinks into the hay slightly, leaning back until he’s comfortable enough. The straw tickles and scratches his back, but with the sight that’s in front of him, the things that are about to happen, he couldn’t care less. “Come here, baby.” Tony’s voice is coated with honey, dripping with lust. “It’s time you rode a steed.” Peter’s cock jumps at Tony’s words and he whimpers softly, nodding. His sassiness is crumbling with every passing second and Tony sure loves watching Peter fall apart. Peter lines himself up, but Tony shakes his head. “Tsk, you’ve been teasing me with that ass for weeks, boy.” He rolls his shoulders and cocks an eyebrow. “Turn around.” Peter complies and not much later his obscene moans echo through the barn as he stretches himself on Tony’s shaft. “That’s it, boy, roll those hips, arch your back, show off your pretty cheeks.” Tony doesn’t care to move as Peter starts squeezing and grinding. It feels delicious and if Tony didn’t have any self-control he could come just looking at the mesmerizing image of Peter’s round butt jiggling slightly with every movement. He watches the boy clench and unclench, muscles tightening with every push down into Tony’s groin. “S-so good, fuck-“ Peter yelps softly when a sudden smack hits his ass cheek. If only Tony had a riding crop right now. “Speed up to a trot,” Tony says with a grin. Peter lets out a high pitched chuckle, but speeds up anyways, barely able to keep himself upright. His hands move to find balance on Tony’s legs, but they stop when they graze past the leather cowboy boots. There’s a slight pause in his movement, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Another smack lands on his ass. Tony wiggles his feet, creating noise with the metal at his heels. “Didn’t tell you to slow down, wouldn’t want me to use my pinwheels on ya… Would ya?” Tony can’t stop smirking, relishing in Peter’s moans. Alright then… Tony sniffs once, allowing Peter to pick up the pace again. “Take ‘em off,” he orders. Peter doesn’t immediately reply, unsure of what Tony means with it. So, Tony moves his feet again. “Take. ‘Em. Off.” “Yes, Sir.” This time, Peter doesn’t halt his ass grinding against Tony’s groin. Tony is panting at this point, basking in the drag of Peter’s insides around him. Peter’s hands work expertly to pull the shoes off Tony’s feet. Once the second one is off, Tony suddenly sits up straight, grabbing Peter by the waist and pushing in until his mouth is right at Peter’s ear. “Oh, would ya look at that,” Tony sighs, looking down at Peter’s hard and leaking cock. He takes the second shoe out of Peter’s hand, twisting it until the pinwheel is pointing their way. At the same time, he start thrusting up into Peter, eliciting the most delicious moans from him. Peter’s head falls back against Tony’s chest, angling into the crook of his neck. “So hard. So horny.” “Been wantin’ to ride you for weeks, Sir-“ Peter pants. “Thank you, thank you-“ “Mmm, good boy,” Tony coos, sucking marks on Peter’s shoulder. “Ya gonna come for me, Petey? Are you close?” Peter nods feverishly, pushing back into Tony harder and harder. Tony smirks, looking down over Peter’s shoulder to the boy’s neglected, leaking cock. He brings the pinwheel from his boot closer and closer until it grazes past. Tony rolls the pinwheel from the base of Peter’s shaft to the tip and back. Peter wails, taking all of Tony’s thrusts and attention until his pleasure reaches its crescendo. He spills all over Tony’s boot, shuddering aggressively and the sight results in Tony only needing a few more thrusts before combusting himself.

[writer-k-pop]

Agitation

드래곤 트레이너가 되어봐, 재미있을 거야. Be a dragon trainer, it’ll be fun.

Description: Working with dragons is dangerous as it is but when dragons often reflect their trainers emotional state, training while agitated and bothered can have consequences. As (y/n) finds out. Warnings: Slight swearing Genre: Dragon trainer AU, angst Word Count: 2.4k

BTS Masterlist | Masterlists

"'Be a dragon trainer' they said." I mumble, slumping into the offices, "'It'll be fun' they said." I peel off my jacket and toss it onto my desk, the scorched fabric staring up at me.

"What happened this time?" Jin asks, not looking up from his paper work.

"The new dragon went haywire." I throw my jacket over the back of my chair before plopping into it. "I'm just glad I got away with only ruining my jacket."

"The male or the female one?" Jin asks.

"The female one." I answer.

Jin exhales, setting down his papers, "Yeah, I heard she's been feisty lately."

"(y/n)? Oh yeah." Jungkook comments, entering the office mid conversation. "She's been real feisty lately."

"Ha. Ha." I roll my eyes at him. "Don't you have some stalls to clean or something?"

"Finished those an hour ago." Jungkook spits back. "Aren't you supposed to be training for the new dragon?"

I toss my jacket at him, "Ended that session early." I glance at the clock, "Though I've got another one in five minutes."

Jungkook catches the jacket and inspects it, "Geez, what did you do to piss her off?"

I shrug, "Honestly, I've got no idea." Shuffling over to the closet, I grab my spare jacket before heading out towards the training fields again. "I'll see you boys later."

"See ya, (y/n)." Jin calls out as the door shuts behind me.

The sun beats down on my back and I dread the minute I will have to put on my jacket to train. Arena policy. Can't train without the protective jackets but in the summer, it's awful.

"Hey! (y/n)!" Taehyung calls from my right.

"Hey, Tae." I wave him over and he jogs over to walk in step with me.

"Headed to another training?" He asks, nodding at my jacket folded over my arm.

"You guessed it." I confirm his suspicion.

"What happened to your other jacket?" He notices the different color of my spare.

"The new female got riled up and nearly took me out." I retell the previous training session, "My jacket took the brunt of the force but I still got to get to the others."

"Must've been pretty bad for you to have to get your spare." Taehyung comments.

"She nearly burned through the entire back side of my jacket." I sigh, patting my spare jacket, "I don't really know what made her go off like that."

"You know," Taehyung clasps his hands behind his back, "The dragons are pretty susceptible to people's emotions. Especially their trainers. You're happy, they're happy. You're agitated, they're agitated."

"I know that." I nod, trying keep the uncomfortable thoughts at bay.

"So, what's bugging you?" Taehyung asks, nudging my shoulder.

I keep my lips closed and continue walking.

"Is it the fight you had with Hoseok hyung?" He quietly asks as if to not prod too far.

My footsteps slow slightly. "How did you know?" I wonder, glancing at him.

"Well, you said that your dragon went crazy on you so you had to have been agitated cause nothing in the training areas would cause them to go crazy on a dime." Taehyung explains, quite rapidly, "So I deduced that you had to have been agitated and the only thing that would agitate you is something in your personal life and that would have to be Hoseokie hyung."

I fully stop and turn to face Taehyung, "Tae, come on."

Taehyung sighs, "Hoseok hyung told me." But quickly corrects himself, "No details but just that you had a fight."

"We did." I admit, "But I can't focus on that right now. I have a dragon to train." I muster the best smile I can before starting to walk towards the training arena.

"You should talk to him." Taehyung says once he reaches pace with me again.

"I will." I brush his suggestion off.

"Soon." Teahyung keeps pushing, "Otherwise the dragons are going to get more agitated the longer you're agitated."

"I got it, Tae." I snap at him, immediately realizing my tone of voice. "Sorry." I apologize.

"It's okay. I just want to make sure you are, so you don't get really hurt later on." Taehyung explains himself though he really doesn't need too.

"I know." I nod, "But I have things to do and I need to be focused so I can't focus on that."

"Go train." Taehyung pushes me ahead, "But talk to hyung later!"

I smile and wave him away as I approach the training arena. The sunlight pours through the glass ceiling of the football stadium sized building.

Namjoon walks into the arena with Gilli trailing behind him.

"She's all ready for you, (y/n)!" Namjoon jogs over to me.

Pushing all thoughts of the fight with Hoseok to the very back burner, I smile and chat with Namjoon.

"That's good to hear." I comment, pulling my jacket over my shoulders. "Are you sticking around?"

Namjoon nods, "I've got nothing better to do."

"No paper work?" I ask, shocked.

"Nope." Namjoon smiles, "Nothin. Nada. Zip."

I nod in contempt, "Alright. Now watch me kick butt."

Namjoon chuckles as he stands at the edge and I move towards the waiting dragon.

"Hey Gilli!" I call out to her.

She gives off a low rumble in greeting, slightly lower than normal.

"Alright, come on, girl," I hold out my hand to establish the initial connection needed for every encounter. She bends her neck down and lightly pushes her nose against my hand.

The first few exercises go smoothly and Gilli is proving to been improving. My skin is damp with sweat and the sun isn't letting up.

I sit on Gilli's back as she walks laps around the arena to keep her moving while I take a breather. The soothing rocking of her body lulls me into a zoned out thought space and for a second I forget where I am and what I don't want to remember.

"If you take on another dragon, you won't have time for anything else." Hoseok argues with me. "When will you have time for me?"

Gilli jerks to the right, nearly knocking me off her back. I try to grab onto the something but without her harness on, I slip down her back and tumble into the sand.

"Fuck." I mutter under my breath, realizing my agitation made her agitated.

Gilli runs towards the North end of the arena while I try to regain my balance and footing. As I stand to full height. she turns and sits, waiting. I read her body and take a step forward. Gilli's eyes squint slightly at me but she makes no moves.

Another step and Gilli lowers her head and widens her stance.

"Shit." I breathe out, knowing I may be in some trouble.

"Gilli, come on, love." I call out, holding up both of my hands, a sign that I have nothing that could hurt her.

A low rumble emits from her throat as I take another step. Swallowing hard, I watch as she begins to lower herself into an attack stance.

"Gilli, girl, come on." I make a last call but she pulls back and in a second is charging straight towards me.

Knowing she can't make sharp turns, I watch her come closer and closer until the last second. Then I dodge to the side, out her of path. She continues past me and stops just before the south end. Breathing hard, I watch while she pauses and turns around. Her breathing matches mine and her wings unfurl, beating twice before stilling at her sides.

"Gilli." I say to her, "I'm sorry. I haven't been level headed. That's all my fault." I sense who I assume is Namjoon moving somewhere in my peripheral.

I take two steps towards her but before I can register her actions, she's charging towards me.

"(y/n)!"

Before I can move my body, I'm knocked to the ground, out of the way of Gilli as she takes flight in the small arena.

"What's wrong with Gilli?" Hoseok's strained voice asks as he helps me to my feet.

I turn to look at him, bewildered at how he got here. "I-I was agitated for a split second and she caught onto it."

Hoseok tuts but Gilli's roar directs our attention back to her.

Gilli faces Hoseok and I. She rears back and her neck swells with the flame rushing through her body.

I watch as she opens her mouth and I can see the tip of her fire breath but Hoseok grabs me and pulls me to the ground, face down. His arms wrapped protectively around me. The heat from Gilli's breath seeps through my already heated clothing but it soon stops.

"Gilli, heal." Namjoon instructs her and then turns to us, "I've got her, you two can get up now."

Hoseok moves from my side and offers me a hand but I ignore his help and stand on my own. I look at Namjoon who's on a calm Gilli's back and take a deep breath.

"Can you take her back, Namjoon?" I ask, holding back a tsunami of emotions.

"Yupp." Namjoon agrees and begins to lead Gilli out of the arena.

Without another word, I walk towards the exit of the arena. Sliding off my jacket, I focus on what damage was caused to it rather than the emotions that hide just below the surface.

"(y/n)." Hoseok calls for me, "Wait."

The back of this jacket is also burned to the point of no use. I sigh in frustration and throw the jacket to the floor.

"This one, too. Dammit." I mutter as Hoseok's footsteps approach me.

"Hey." He grabs my shoulders and looks at me. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." I mutter, not meeting his gaze.

"What were you even thinking about to get Gilli that agitated?" He asks, not releasing my shoulders.

"Nothing." I answer flatly and glance at my burned jacket on the floor, "I have to go get another set of jackets. Ugh I can't believe I went through two of them in a day." I clench my hand into a fist. "Leah's going to kill me."

"I'll get you more jackets, it's fine." Hoseok reassures me, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." I try to shake him off but he holds on tighter.

"You were agitated." Hoseok now pushes, "Why were you agitated? You know you can't be agitated like that around them. It doesn't ever, ever go well."

"You think I don't know that?" I finally look him in the eyes. "I lost my grip for a split second. And it won't happen again."

Hoseok finally releases my shoulders and runs a hand through his hair, "What were you thinking about that made you like that?"

I chew on my lip, wondering if I want to have the conversation here, in an empty hallway.

Hoseok sighs, "If it's about what I said last night.." He starts before stopping himself, looking at me for any response.

"Of course it's about what you said last night, Hobi." I reply to him, "You essential told me that I don't care about you or our relationship and by taking on another dragon, something that I love doing, I would be ignoring you and us." Finally the pent up emotions from last night begin to show themselves. "Hobi, you questioned my entire work career and my entire relationship with you. Of course someone would be shaken and unsure of everything after hearing that. And it's not easy to keep it all in check. So I'm sorry that I zoned out for a split second on Gilli's back and thought of last night which got Gilli all upset." I exhale, pressing my hands to my temple.

"(y/n)," Hoseok reaches out his hands.

"But is it really my fault for loving what I do?" I continue, interrupting him. "And for loving you? Why can't I have both? Why can't I decide for myself if I can handle another dragon or not? I can, you know." I frantically move my hands, "Aerlo's about to be released so I would have time to fill with her training spots open. And there are other probationary trainers that need training and we're already short on staff and I'm one of the best trainers here." My eyes search the hallway walls, searching for everything and nothing simultaneously.

"Hey, hey." Hoseok grabs both of my hands and makes me look at him. "First of all, no, it is not your fault that you love your job or that you're one of the best at it. Second, I'm the one who should be apologizing for putting you between those choices like that." He glances away and then back to me, "What I said last night was stupid and, and out of line. I was just worried that you were going to tire yourself out and that you would get hurt."

I start to collect myself and listen to what he's saying.

"It was late and I was coming off of a bad day and I know I didn't actually mean those words." Hoseok explains, "When you told me you were taking on a new dragon, I just, it felt like another stroke of bad luck on an already crappy day. I just - You really should do what you want, (y/n)." Hoseok looks at me with certain eyes, "You and I always get new dragons and this time should be no different. I know that. It's your job as a trainer to take on new dragons." Hoseok looks down at his feet, "It was such a dumb thought, I'm sorry."

I release on my hands and lift his head up, "Hobi, we both must've been having a crap day." I give a small smile, "I probably wasn't in my right mind either. It's okay. I probably shouldn't have pushed so hard. I didn't know what kind of day you were having and it wasn't exactly fair."

"No, you were fair, (y/n)." Hoseok interrupts me and then warps me in a tight hug, "I'm sorry."

I nod into his shoulder and wraps my arms around his torso. "It's okay."

Hoseok gives off a breath laugh, "I think I fully understand the meaning of not going to bed with a fight unresolved."

I smile, "With our line of work, we really should stick to that."

"Let's take the rest of the day off." Hoseok suggests, pulling back. "After your last training session, you could say you need to take the day off. Recoup and all."

I eye him with suspicion, "And what will you say to get out of your work?"

"I may have already found substitutes for my trainings." Hoseok smiles, happily.

"How?" I ask.

Hoseok shrugs, "Just know that I did."

"What would we do?" I wonder.

He bends down and picks up my burnt jacket from the floor, "Well, for starters, we could get you a new set of training gear considering your gear is now... well, unusable." He chuckles at the state of my jacket.

"That would be a good plan." I comment.

"Then after, we can just hang around and relax and re-energize ourselves." Hoseok suggests.

I nod, "I like that."

"Well, then, (y/n)," Hoseok slings my jacket over his shoulder, "Shall we head out to replace your gear and then relax?"

I grab his free hand and smile, "We shall."

[floraone]

So, this is to my guest reviewer who got so offended that I mentioned drag queens in Would You Like To Date My Friend, Chiba Mamoru? that they felt compelled to write me a long review about how much I wasted their time and should not bring my worldviews into my writing.

So… here! Have some more drag queens! :D

-

“Are we really sure this is… necessary?” Mamoru mumbled, eyeing the duct tape warily.

Usagi wasn’t helping. She looked more unsure than he did. And frankly, that wasn’t very reassuring given the fact that she was about to duct tape his newly shaven dick up his ass.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Minako said from behind the paravent. “You gotta look authentic!”

“Right,” he sighed, spread his thighs apart a little wider with a flush, and nodded for Usagi to start.

Unsurprisingly, duct tape on your junk hurt. He winced immediately, 

“Sorry, sorry, sorryyyy,” she cried, but never stopped with the tape. 

Yup. He was now pretty grateful Minako had insisted on that full-body wax for him. 

He closed his eyes and just let her do it, even when she knelt in front of him and looked at his junk and the tape as if it were the most complicated of all IKEA furniture she’d ever have to put together.

“How’s this even supposed to…” she mumbled in frustration.

“He’s supposed to look flat,” came the very helpful remark from the other side. 

“Duh.” Mamoru and Usagi rolled their eyes in perfect synchronization, before he winced again, hissing through his teeth.

“Sorryyyy!”

“Ok, so,” Makoto’s voice this time. “You’re supposed to like, tuck them back up.”

“Back up?!” Usagi said, eyeing his testicles varily.

Mamoru’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline in spontaneous panic.

“Like, there’s supposed to be this little pocket? Where they came from? You’re supposed to shove them back in, or up, and the dick is supposed to go like, all the way back to the ass crack.”

“Where are you reading this from?” he asked, trying to not sound panicked.

“WikiHow!”

Uh…

He looked down at his fiancée wide-eyed, who wasn’t looking back much better.

Shaking his head though, he grabbed downstairs, deciding to take matters into his own hand after all and quite literally, and subsequently tried to shove it all up himself - and actually, yeah… kind of? A pocket??  

He nodded down towards her and yuppp, tape down there really, really hurt. 

He wasn’t looking forward to taking that back off. Really, he wasn’t. 

What he didn’t do for the mission…

“Right,” Usagi announced, quite proudly. “He’s flat now!”

A cheer from the other side of the paravent, and then a hipster slip thrown over the side of it that he quickly stepped into. And with that, he supposed his paravent privacy rights were over, because it was shoved away, and he was handed a pair of shiny see-through black tights and a black bra.

“Here’s your boobs,” Minako said with a wink, and handed him a pair of silicone pads. 

He sighed long and hard, even when Usagi was already grabbing them from him and stuffing them into his bra.

“Is this really–” he tried again.

“Of course it’s necessary!” Minako interrupted him, then motioned for him to sit on the stool before her vanity.

He really didn’t like the look of that glue she held up.

“Sit!” she ordered.

He did, but eyed her suspiciously.

“Oh c’mon!” Minako groused. “Trust me a little! I got you!”

He sighed, and closed his eyes, and felt Minako attack his eyebrows with glue. To better camouflage them away with make-up, she later explained, and paint him new ones.

“Ok so,” Ami said from the side of Minako’s bed, detangling some cables to stick into her impromptu equipment. “Once you’re inside, scout the perimeter. If you wear your mic and earpiece, I have you on monitor the whole time. Try to track anything even remotely suspicious.”

“Right,” he mumbled, eyes back open. Minako was dabbing his face in nude colored make-up and it felt like she was painting him a new one.

“Full contour?” Rei asked next to her.

“Of course!” she mumbled, took a new brush, a new color, and wiped at his cheekbones.

“We’ll be in the audience the whole time,” Ami continued. “The second you notice something that looks like the attack, or a portal, or a weapon, or anything, one of us transforms and will be right with you.”

“A weapon?!” Usagi shrieked.

“And try to keep close to the other Queens, protect them. Try to take the hit for them if worst comes to worst.”

“WHAT?!” Usagi bellowed.

But he nodded. “Right,” he said, at the same time as Rei who rolled her eyes at Usagi and barked a, “Give him some credit, will you? He can take it!”

That was the whole reason they were doing this, after all. Someone had been threatening the local queer community for a while, and after ‘only’ hate speech in the mail, started making serious threats especially to the little drag theater they were trying to protect tonight. And since the last attack had been supernatural in nature, and this one was almost a sure bet, the local police had contacted the Senshi and asked for their assistance.

It had been Minako’s idea of course. That their best shot was to have someone undercover in the show who tries to take the brunt of the attack.

Usagi had been first to volunteer - use the Luna Pen, turn herself into a Beautiful Drag Queen. Mamoru had been first to protest and volunteer as tribute in her stead.

He wasn’t letting any more crazy people try and blow up his girlfriend.

Everyone had agreed (except Usagi.)

Minako was glueing fake eyelashes on him when Rei spoke up again, tapping her finger to her chin as she watched Minako work. 

“We need a good drag name for you,” she mumbled thoughtfully.

“Mamoko!” Usagi cried from her perch on the floor right beside his stool.

He smiled - the others rolled their eyes.

“That’s not a drag name,” Rei shot in her direction with that ’are you daft, again?’ inflection to her voice, dismissing her.

“Princess Flower?” Makoto suggested. “Rosa Mask? Rosa Tux? Golden Thorne?”

“Domina Masque?” Ami threw in with a shrug, and Mamoru threw her an offended look.

“Ooooh!” Minako cried. “I like it! We gotta get you a mask!”

He sighed long and hard - but was tutted for it - Minako was working on his lips.

“Here I got your butt!” Makoto said, holding up the newly finished spanks with foam hot-glued in it. 

He sighed even harder.

It was when Minako was done with the make-up, and the girls had tucked him into the sparkly red and crazy short sequin dress and zipped him up, that he was starting to not recognize himself in the mirror anymore.

“Damn, girl,” Makoto whistled. “What do you need these legs for?! Why are you so skinny?”

He blushed immediately, looking down at himself.

Minako dabbed some powder to his cheeks, looking pleased, then pulled a nylon net over his head.

“You’re really good at this,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

“Thanks!” she beamed, then winked. “Finally some trust!”

“I wouldn’t go so far,” he chuckled.

She threw him a pointed look, but a smile was dancing over her lips, and she tucked all his hair into the net, then took a razor to his sideburns and the back of his neck. He didn’t even stiffen anymore.

“Just think of me as your mother tonight!” she beamed.

Rei dramatically rolled her eyes. “Minako, you are not a Drag Queen. You don’t get to be his drag mom.”

Minako waved her off with a tsk, but flapped a long dark wig over his head.

When it was done, even he had to blink at his reflection.

It was… actually kind of good? The long dark hair suited him, the smokey eyes and contour kinda…too?

“You know,” Minako commented. “You look a bit like Rei like this.”

“You really, really do,” Usagi hushed, quite breathlessly, quite wide-eyed, cheeks way too flushed, and he couldn’t help but lift his eyebrows at her in the reflection of the mirror.

He really didn’t know what to think when she blushed even harder at that…

“Shoes!” Minako cried happily, interrupting that thought, and presented him with a pay of pretty much sky high transparent peep toes, with a red sole and… and… were those roses in the platforms?!  “I have your slippers, princess,” she said with a smirk.

He looked at them as if she was waving a pair of guns at him. 

“Are you expecting me to be able to walk in that?” he asked incredulously.

She threw him a look of utter annoyance. “Just try, for god’s sake. This isn’t science.”

And so he sighed again, but strapped himself into seven inch shoes with roses in them.

When he got up, Usagi’s hand directly there to clutch his and help him up, he was surprised he could actually somewhat walk on them. 

“You know…” he said, surprised and looking down, “this isn’t actually so bad?”

Minako beamed with pride.

“If I don’t have to actually, you know, walk…?”

Another tsk and dismissive wave of Minako’s hand. “Just hang on to the pole. You’ll be fine.”

“A pole?!”

“Ahh, don’t worry, Just swing around a little on it. Try to look sexy.”

“WHAT?!”

“Like you wanna fuck the audience. Ya know? Look at them like you look at Usagi when she’s yelling something obnoxious at you.”

“MINAKO?!”

And so, about an hour later, mic in his fake cleavage and dick taped to his ass and looking like a Queen, he stood in front of an open stage door with a mission to fulfill.

“Let’s do this then,” he said with one last sigh.

“Yas Queen!” Makoto shouted amusedly, and shut up with a barely contained chuckle at his withering look.

“Showtime!” Minako cried ecstatically, and shoved him down the stage door. “Don’t get killed!”

He sighed again, but got to it.

Minako pressed her fist to her heart. “I am so proud of my daughter,” she beamed, wiping away a fake tear.

“You are NOT HIS MOTHER,” Rei cried again in frustration.

And no one really commented the fact that Usagi kind of really, really seemed to like her fiancé in that get-up.

Eventually, he actually kinda killed it? Before the homophobic monster attacked, of course, and blew it all to smithereens. But even then, Domina Masque looked like quite a stunner throwing those roses.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

She [9]

Warnings: non-consent sex (fingering, toy play, dildo, butt plug); violence

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: The reader finds herself trapped.

Note: Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Reader

You were shaking. Your veins flowed with fire and yet the basement was frigid. You watched Steve’s broad shoulders as he bent over the plastic drawers. You could hear him sifting around though you couldn’t see through what exactly. He stood straight and you trembled.

He turned as he extended the legs of the tripod. He was deliberate as he spread them and pulled out a small camera. He secured it and looked to your as his finger hovered over the button.

“Do you mind if I record this?” He taunted. You grunted and he pressed a button.

You tugged on the hook but only managed to swing your feet. It took you a moment to get your toes steady on the floor. As he reached into the drawer again, you bared your teeth, helpless as the restraints stretched your arms above you. 

The breath went out of you as you saw what he held. It was all too familiar. The rabbit was yours; the same purple hue. You’d found it missing a few days before but merely thought you’d moved it without thinking. He lifted the silicon as he admired the length and neared.

“How--” Your voice fizzled as his eyes flared and you clasped your lips shut.

“It’s a good start,” He taunted. “But nothing compared to the real thing.”

He hit the small button hidden by the small arm. The toy began to buzz and he poked it against your cheek so that your teeth chattered. He dragged it down your neck and chest. He held it there and jabbed you with it sharply.

“I’m trying to figure out if that’s fear… or something else,” He smirked. “Your heart is racing.”

You opened your mouth and tasted the blood along your lip. You closed your mouth again and thought better of talking. Your cheek was still throbbing.

The dildo tickled you as he pushed it lower. He pressed it to your stomach and traced along the waist of your pants. You gulped back a breath as he inched onward. He stopped again, just along your vee. He came closer and grabbed the back of your head. 

He forced the toy between your legs roughly and pushed it against your cunt. He clicked the button again and it buzzed faster. Once more and you could feel it clearly through your pants. He pulled your head back and his blue eyes bore into you.

“You like to play innocent, don’t you?” He sneered. “But you’ve been hiding this…” He pushed harder and you winced. “Whew, listen to that heart go.”

Your thighs squeezed around his hand and shook. He began to move the rabbit against you and you felt your panties getting damp. You closed your eyes in shame and he released your head only to smack it.

“Look at me,” He hissed. Your eyes snapped open and he grabbed your chin, adding to the tenderness in your jaw.

“Steve,” You rasped as you tried to wiggle away from him.

“Shut up.” He snarled. “The only thing I want to hear from that mouth is you cumming.”

You whined and sealed your lips. The ripples spread from the toy into you. The waves spread from your core and along your spine. Your shoes slipped on the floor and your breath picked up. His hand wrapped around your neck again and he leaned in so that his nose touched yours as he rubbed you faster.

“Let me hear it,” He said. “I can see it--”

“Ahhh,” The small gasp burst from your lips. 

You tried to swallow it back but he didn’t let up. Your eyes watered as you gulped like a fish and the long moan escaped you. It rose to a fever pitch and you bared your teeth as the carnal cry was torn from your body. Your back arched without thinking and your thighs clenched around his hand as you came.

He snickered and ripped his hand from between your legs. He shoved you so you swung from the hook and shut the toy off. He tucked it in his front pocket, it barely kept from tipping out. He rounded you again, like a hawk. You hung your head and measured your breaths.

“Just like every other pest on this planet, you don’t realise how much you owe me.” He stopped in front of you again. “You owe me your life and that’s what I’m gonna have.”

He grabbed the front of your blouse. He tore it easily, the frills shred in half as it split to the hem. He snapped the right strap of your bra and then the left. He ripped it from you as the hooks popped out of the back and dropped it at your feet. The fabric of your shirt draped loosely from your shoulders and exposed your chest.

He tweaked your nipple and made another circle around you. He pressed himself to your back and reached around to undo your fly. He shoved his hand down your pants and felt along the cotton of your underwear. He tutted and drew his hand away. He grabbed the sides of your trousers and tore them down.

“You’re wet.” He remarked. “But you stand there and act like I’m such a bad guy.”

“Stop,” You begged weakly.

He untangled your pants from your ankles and threw them aside with your wedged shoes. He bunched the side of your panties in his hand and turned you to face him.

“What was that? You giving me orders?” He challenged. You shook your head in fear. “Despite all the trouble you’ve caused, I’m still the captain. You listen to me.” He wrenched your panties down and let them fall along your legs. “The only words you will speak are ‘yes, Captain’.” He turned you away from him and slapped your ass. It stung and you groaned through your teeth. “Nothing else. Understood?”

You shuddered and he smacked you again. This time it sent a pang up to your shoulders. You whimpered as your eyes dampened.

“That’s when you answer me, bitch.”

“Yes… Captain,” You said, hissing through the pain.

“Louder,” He slapped you again.

“Yes! Captain!” You called out as your legs quivered beneath you.

“Better,” He rubbed your sore flesh. “You’ll have lots of time to practice.”

He spun you back to him and took the toy from his pocket. He waved it before you and watched it intently.

“You use this a lot?” He asked. “I replaced the batteries, don’t you worry.”

You looked to the ceiling, your wrists ached from the cuffs.

“You seem the lonely type. Repressed.” He brushed the toy against your thighs and you closed your legs. “Off chasing your little fairy tales.” He pinched you. “Open those fucking legs.”

You parted your legs and he pushed the silicon against your cunt. He waited, silently.

“Yes, Captain,” You breathed.

“Good,” He purred and clicked the button. The toy pulsed against you and quickly rekindled the flickering flame. “Back then, before all this, women like you never made it far. They all just ended up in the exact place they were running away from; a horde of children tugging at their skirts.”

You were quiet as you kept your eyes above you.

“They say those weren’t the good ole days. Say we were wrong,” He clicked the button again. “But they don’t know. They can’t.” He dragged the toy along your folds, lingering on your clit before repeating the motion. “Look at me.”

Your eyes flitted down to him. He stepped even closer and angled the toy against your entrance. He turned it so the little arm faced him. You tried to say something but your voice died as he shoved the dildo inside you. He clicked the button again and the arm pressed against your clit.

“That’s it,” He began to move the toy, slowly. “I see it. You don’t want that life. You know it’s not meant for you.” He grasped the back of your head and pressed his cheek to yours as his breath grazed your ear. “You know this is where you belong. You knew that day… you knew what you were doing.”

“No…” You gulped.

“What?” He pushed the toy to its limit. “What did you say?”

You squeaked but kept silent.

“I never want to hear that word. You got me?” He growled.

“Yes, Captain,” You forced out.

“I don’t want to break that face,” He warned. “I really don’t.”

“Yes, Captain,” You whined as he thrust the toy in and out.

“Come on,” He sped up as the vibrations had your nerves whirring. “Don’t you want the real thing?” Your pussy made slick sounds as he pounded the toy into you. “You come and I’ll let you have it.” He slammed it in hard. “Come.”

You grabbed onto the metal clasp above you and your feet arched painfully. Your legs tensed as he worked the toy inside of you, over and over. You panted desperately and tossed your head back. You squealed as you came and the pleasure rolled over you like crashing tides.

He held the toy inside of you and let it buzz as he drew back and knelt to watch you shake. His eyes focused between your legs as he slowly pulled the dildo out and rubbed his fingers through your cum. He shook his head as he stood and clicked the toy off. He pressed it to your lips.

“A good woman cleans up after herself.”

He pushed until it hurt and you opened your mouth. He shoved the rabbit to the back of your mouth, the arm pushed painfully against the roof of your mouth. You nearly choked as he jammed it in and out several times and you tasted yourself on the silicon. You gagged and he tore it out suddenly. You barely held back the wave of nausea as he admired the string of spit hanging off the toy.

“Almost there,” He keened as he stepped around you. 

He placed the rabbit atop the stack of drawers and opened another. You heard a soft metallic rustle and he turned to you with a thin metal chain. He watched the silver sparkle in the light as he came close. 

“I never knew much about this stuff but with all this time off, I had a lot of time to shop around.” He grinned. “Things I never even thought of before.”

He clipped one of the metal clamps over your nipple and you flinched. He did the other and you curled your fingers into a fist. The other end hung down your stomach and dangled in front of your pelvis. He reached down and lined up the clamp with your clit. He secured it around your swollen bud and you let out a tortured cry.

He backed up and was once more at the drawers. You shied away from the lens as the red light shone back at you. He flipped open the cap of a bottle as he returned to you and the shape in his other hand was a blur. You flinched away as he touched your ass and spread your cheeks.

The cool liquid flowed around your hole and you teetered on your toes. You tried to step away from him but only managed to stumble. He growled in warning and he rubbed around your ring with his fingertip. He slowly pushed until he was inside, just a little, and he drew his finger in and out as he carefully stretched you.

He pushed another in and you exclaimed. The burning pain intensified and he impaled you to his knuckles.

“Tight ass bitch,” He laughed darkly and pulled out.

You felt another prod in place of his fingers and you tried to turn away. He slapped your ass and tossed the lube across the floor.

“So much for being nice,” He hit the back of your head and grabbed your shoulder. “We can do it the hard way.”

He pushed and the shape slowly stretched your ring. Your breath was laboured as it only got wider and wider. You mewled pathetically and a tear trickled down your cheek. The fullness was unbearable as the plug reached its limit and your hole puckered around its stems. You wiped your face on your arm.

He circled round you and his hand went to his hips as he took you in.

“Now, the real fun starts.” He announced as his lips curved.

[dreamyboystyles]

Shiny Bums

hello everyone so sorry I’ve been gone but school started chewing my ass and now I’m finally finishing up but I needed some creative output and considering THE MET is finally happening I decided to write something short and sweet! Hope you enjoy this small little blurb. 

There was nothing else in the world that gave you the same heart burst as seeing your favorite boy happy. Genuinely happy. Stars in his eyes, crinkly laughs and late night reminiscing giggles happy.

 What better time for him to feel this happy than celebrating one of his favorite things in the world, fashion. As co-host of the Met Gala you had seen Harry travel through a series of emotions. A roller coaster that only went up, if you will. And the day had finally arrived where Harry would showcase the amazing work and collaboration he had produced with Gaga and Serena. Very few things thus far would ever compare to the same bubbling thrill of excitement he felt. You couldn’t help but fall deeper in love with him every time he ran to you bursting at the seams wanting to tell you all the new and creative ideas he’d come up with and every thought he’d contributed to the team. Harry was nothing short of dedicated when he put his mind to something. So now here you stand with one of the most loving stares in your eyes as you watch your favorite boy get in his last outfit fitting before the big night.

“Now I know we said the sequins was gonna run down this side…” Alessandro droned on and Harry listened very intently trying to figure out the last minute quirks of his nothing less of glamorous outfit. You couldn’t help but just run your eyes down his entire figure.

“What’s got that dreamy look on ya face lovie?” he asks smirking at you as your eyes meet each others through the mirror in front of him.

“Just enjoying the view of a tight ass covered in sparkles” you giggle cheekily. He rolls his eyes but nonetheless wiggles his butt around.

“Oi, don’t really appreciate your objectification of me.” he exclaims as he turns to the side and Alessandro applies more pins.

You roll your eyes but make your way to stand in front of him.

“Not objectifying anything love, just appreciating your very shiny bum.” You reach around to give him a small pinch to which he gasps.

“Y/N not in front of everyone please, learn to control your womanly urges.” he jests tutting at you.

“Oh goodness how will I ever be able to contain myself before the oh-so dashingly out-of-this-world handsome Harry Styles.” you exclaim fanning at your face.

“Don’t know but you’d better learn, got a missus waiting for me at home,” he smiles. “Thank you for recognizing my god-like good looks.” he teases reaching to stroke your cheek.

“Well your missus is one extremely lucky gal.” You smirk.

“I dunno I’d say I won the lottery in the luck department.” He winks pinching your cheek before turning once again for Alessandro.

You shake your head giggling softly. You go back to staring at him catching him smirk at you a few times whenever your gaze lingered a little long on certain areas. These were your favorite moments with Harry, playful and yet full of love at once. Boy were you proud of the man he’d become so far.

[caffeinatedtimdrake]

CONGRATS ON 200 FOLLOWERS YOU DESERVE ALL OF THEM!!!! From the prompts list, could I maybe get 48 and 58 with Timmy Drake?? Ya girl needs some FLUFF and you are by far the best person to write Tim Drake fluff!!!

1.5k of Tim Drake fluff as you requested, anon!! 

48. “You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.”

58. “Why me?” “Because you saw me when I was invisible.”

Tim Drake thinks it’s absolutely extraordinary that you care so minimally about your birthday. 

“But it’s…a celebration of your birth. Of the moment you left the womb and came into the real world!”

“Maybe I’m a test tube baby.” 

He opens his mouth to respond but shuts it slowly. He shoots you an intrigued look, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.  “…Are you?” 

You snort and jab him lightly with your elbow. “No, but that would be pretty sick, yeah?”

“It would explain a lot.” 

You shake your head and fail to fight a smile, glancing down at your neatly tied laces. “It’s nice that you think exiting from a uterus is a celebratory occasion, but being born is, like, three percent of the battle. You have to actually…survive…for it to mean anything.” 

He hums agreeably, low in this throat. “Otherwise, natural selection will get you.”  

“I will beat you with the bio textbook. I do not want to discuss that class until our test is over.” 

“Is that what you want for your birthday, Y/N?” 

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, grinning slyly in a way that makes his breath catch. “Maybe.”

It’s just before midnight on the eve of your twentieth year and just after an intensive study session with Tim over Darwinian theories and many types of finches. As always, he insisted on walking you home, dark brows knit in a concerned frown – even when you reminded him you once accidentally fractured his wrist because he taught you some self-defense moves and you’re an efficient learner. 

The air is temperate against his skin, but Tim still feels heat painted across his face. You tend to have that effect on him, all roses and melted chocolate, but for someone so smart, you seem largely oblivious to his more-than-platonic affections. 

He clears his throat. “I want to show you something.” 

“Sounds suspicious.” 

Tim rolls his eyes and reaches out his hand to intertwine your fingers, heart lurching at the gentle brush of your skin against his. “Come on, test tube baby.” 

You’re glad he turns to lead you down the sidewalk because he can’t see the way your eyes nearly bug out of your head, cheeks flushed with pleasant surprise beneath streetlights and neon signs. 

Befriending Tim had been scarily easy. You had spent a fair amount of time in the hazy background, lost in a jumble of murmured conversation and lukewarm connections, but it hadn’t always bothered you. Adolescence was complicated and arduous enough – you didn’t need people with bad energy polluting your already chaotic world. People were either too suffocating or too unreliable and you had the emotional capacity for neither. However, you weren’t immune to echoes of loneliness. There were moments you longed for genuine friendship, when you wanted to someone look at you and truly see you. 

You hadn’t expected such a friendship from a smartass with a bright smile and diamond eyes, but three years later and he knew your soul more intimately than the stars. With Tim, everything simply clicked into place. 

The city sleeps peacefully, but the butterflies in your stomach are certainly wide awake as he pulls you around an alley corner and through a rickety side door. 

“Is this illegal?” You inquire, voice echoing off the narrow staircase. 

“Probably. But only if we get caught.” 

You choke on laughter, a wheezy, squeaky noise. “Is this worth possible incarceration?” 

He halts halfway up the stairs and your nose almost collides with his back. A smooth, well-toned, muscular back… 

In the dismal blue-gray lighting, he glances over his shoulder at you and his eyes are an enigma of mischief and topaz. “You have no idea.” 

You feel your heart squeeze in a funny way, affinity enfolding. 

“No, nope, no idea at all.” You say in a breathy voice because his grip tightens on your hand and you feel yourself unraveling slowly. 

Several flights of stairs later, Tim brings you before a door. 

“Tim, you do realize that there’s a large lock and chain on the door, right?” 

He chortles and meets your puzzled frown with a smile of sunlight. “Has that ever stopped me before?” 

He’s indisputably referring to your wariness at the birth of this friendship and you flush. “N-no.” 

“Have a little faith, won’t you, Y/N?” 

He drops your hand and you despise the twinge of sour disappointment across your tongue when he crouches down and pulls several suspicious tools out of his backpack. 

“If it involves you, Timmy, I’ll always have a little faith.” 

He shoves what might be a fancy screwdriver into the lock, lifting his eyebrows. “Oh? And why’s that? Why me?” Tim asks with the light cadence of a songbird on a spring morning.  

You shrug, watching him frown at the chain and wiggle the metal without reason. The tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth and the gel in his hair has grown tired, sending tiny locks of ebony flopping onto his forehead.  

“Because you saw me when I was invisible. If you can do that, you can do anything.” You muse softly.

He whips his head around to look at you so quickly, he lands flat on his butt, eyes wide. 

Something in the tangle of metal clicks promisingly. 

Tim hops to his feet and there’s a flash of hesitation across his features before he places his hand on your shoulder, looking at you earnestly. “I always want you to feel like you’re able to be seen, Y/N.” 

You nod, skin buzzing at the contact, and he offers you a warm smile. 

“Speaking of seeing, this is the best view in the whole city.” He shoves open the door. 

“Oh, I know.” You chortle in a playful tone that makes the tip of his ears go pink.  

His laughter rings like moonlight across the empty rooftop, tangling with gentle wind and worn brick. 

“It might be even more magnificent than I am. Which is absurd, I know.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You tut as he entangles your fingers once more and tugs you closer to the edge. 

“Oh.” You sigh, dropping your backpack. “You weren’t kidding.” 

The city is beautiful from here; the perch is higher, but not quite the highest. Below you is an expanse of twinkling lights and obsidian edges, reflected softly in the river. Above you, skyscrapers loom with the same quiet power as Californian redwoods with shiny, dark windows and smooth steel for bark. The view is set to the music of midnight traffic and a thudding heart. This epitomized Gotham – obscure and illuminated in striking angles. 

Tim finds it hard to avoid admiring you while you admire Gotham. A smile of reverence fights its way across his mouth as he watches you; you, who glues him to the ground and sends him floating dreamily through the clouds and understands his soul better than any evolutionary theory or mathematic equation; you with the pretty eyes and wide grin and heart of unadulterated honey gold. 

When your gaze flickers to him, his heart skips a beat. Or several. 

“This is lovely, Tim. Thank you.”

He smiles sheepishly, suddenly bashful beneath the warmth in your regard. There’s a slightly panicked pressure unraveling in his chest because he’s known for a while that he’s enamored with you, but now there’s a tiny voice at the back of his head telling him to actually do something about it. 

You’re awfully fond of the way heat rises in his cheeks as he glances down at his watch. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” 

You throw your arms around his neck and he wants to collapse because he loves, loves, loves the way you fit against him and the scent of your shampoo tickling his nose. 

He squeezes you and you revel in the warm gravity of his embrace. When you pull back, you continue to dawdle shyly at the edges of his space, beaming up at him. 

“Really, Tim, this is amazing. The best birthday present.” 

“Nothing but the best for you.” He flashes a cheesy grin but sobers quickly. “I’m serious, Y/N. Sometimes I don’t think you understand it. You deserve everything good in this world.” 

You groan, hiding your face behind your fingers. “Tim.” 

He moves your hands to squish your cheeks and prevent any timid protests; you pout.

“For real, test tube baby. Never settle for anything less than what you deserve. You deserve so much.” 

“You gotta stop doing that, Tim.” You mutter. 

“What?” He asks, plain intrigue written into cornflower blue and your face still between his warm palms. 

“Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.” 

He freezes, barely blinking, but he can almost register the blood rushing to your face. 

You can’t even slap a hand over your mouth in mortification, but there was no time to choke the words down anyway. Smooth skin and sweet words had unraveled your sense of reason. 

Tim shakes his head almost imperceptibly, hands falling gently from your cheeks. “I-I don’t think I’ll do any such thing, in that case.” 

He swallows hard and opens his mouth to continue rattling off remarks about all the good things you should have in this life, but you lean into him again and press your lips to his.

[correctmianitequotes]

DAY 1: JORDAN POV

I woke up to the feeling of the sun bearing down on my face. I opened my eyes and blinked. After what felt like months of falling through the void, my eyes weren’t used to brightness. I moved my sunglasses up my nose and blinked violently a few more times. The world started coming into focus.

I could smell salt and hear the faint lapping of water at the shore. The ground felt loose, as if no one had ever been there before to pack it and farm it. I could see that I was on a small island. I counted one sheep, two trees, three wolves, and one lonely looking pig. I stood up, stumbling a bit. All that time in the void left my muscles a little unused. I brushed the sand and dirt off of me and got a better look. Was I alone here? For a moment, I had the terrible thought that my friends hadn’t made it through with me; that they were stranded in similar situations in separate galaxies. Then, I heard a familiar voice.

  “Guys? Where are ya? Am I the only one on this damn island?” It was Tom.

“Over here!” I yelled. I looked around and saw him, facing the opposite direction of me. 

“Jordan? That you?” Tom called, looking around for the source of the voice (spoiler alert: it was me. I was the voice.)  

“I’m right here!” I yelled again. This time, Tom turned around. 

“Jordan!” He started running towards me. I saw a wide grin on his zombie face. He captured me in a tight hug, over as quickly as it began. I examined him. His suit, thought crumpled and sort of threadbare, still made him look as fine as ever.

“I was starting to think I had this whole place to myself!” he joked. I smiled.

“Have you seen the others?”

“We’re over here!” cried a female voice. I saw Sonja rising on top of a hill, looking tan and wobbly. She gave herself a dog-like shake, sending sand flying. 

“Eyyyy, Sonja!” Tom walked over to embrace her, too. 

“Where’s Tucker?” I asked her. 

“Uhhh, I don’t know,” Sonja said, doubt in her voice. We all looked around for our other friend, but there was no sign of him. I could see worry start to creep onto Sonja and Tom’s faces. 

“Tucker?” 

“Tucker! Where are ya, mate?”

Suddenly, we heard a large amount of swearing and gasping. We saw Tucker, hunched over on the beach, soaking wet. 

“Tucker! There you are!” We hurried towards him.

“What’s the matter? What ‘appened? Tom asked him.

“I NEARLY JUST DROWNED, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED!” he exclaimed. “Goddammit! God, that could have been the end of me. I nearly lost my hat.” He slapped his cap onto his head, shaking slightly. His captain’s uniform that he won in another universe was dripping wet, so maybe that’s why he was shaking. Sonja put her arms around him comfortingly. 

“Well… are you alright now?” I asked him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m good now.” He took a deep breath and stood up like nothing happened. 

“So! What are we doing here?”

“Surviving, I suppose,” I responded.

“Wait!” Tom shouted, digging in his pockets. “I had a vision while we were in the void that I would receive some tasks that we’d have to complete, and once we do, we win, sort of.” 

He triumphantly pulled out a piece of paper. “Aha!” He squinted at it, possibly trying to remember how to read. “ ‘Dearest champions; In order to get off this godforsaken island, you must defeat the three mega challenges that this world has to offer you; the End Dragon, the Wither, and the Guardians.”

Tucker blew air out of his mouth. “Just those things? Those are nothing! I mean, sure it might be tough because there doesn't seem to be many resources lying around, and we might die a couple of times, but-’

“But!” Tom read on, “you are unable to come back from death. Your gods aren’t here to help you or resurrect you now. If you die, there’s no coming back.” Tom’s voice faded with every word he read. 

“What!?” Tucker and Sonja both yelled. “We can’t die?”

“Well, that’s what it says!” Tom yelled back. He read the paper again, just to be sure.

 Sonja moaned. I felt uneasy as well. My mind immediately started going to all the clumsy accidents, all the oversights that could lead to me or my friends being gone forever, or at least until the rest of us finished the challenge. 

“Well, damn, guys, I guess we’ll have to be careful. Ain’t no gods to help us out anymore,” Tucker stated. 

“Yeah, looks like we’ll have to work together,” I said. Tucker and Tom both jokingly made sounds of disgust. 

“Well, I guess if it means not having my tail handed to me, I guess I can work with a filthy Mianitee,” Tom teased, giving Tucker a toothy grin. 

“Same to you,” Tucker replied, holding out his hand. Tom hesitated, then went to shake it, when Tucker suddenly pulled it back and yelled “OHHHH! TOO SLOW, BITCH!”

Tom gasped, deeply offended. “Sonavabitch.”  

“Um, guys?” I butt in. “We probably need to focus on, yknow, surviving and stuff like that.” 

“Oh right!” Tom laughed. “I guess we should start by punching wood.” 

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

A little bit later, after Tom got thoroughly chewed out by Tucker for accidentally making an axe instead of a hoe and Tom losing his mind when he saw a pig, I was in the mine when I heard Tom calling Tucker and I to come up to the surface. 

“On my way,” I responded. “I also have a little surprise for me to give to you.” 

Once I got up there,I also noticed that it had slipped from day to night. Sonja and Tom were lighting things up and preparing the farm, which, at the moment, left much to be desired. I saw that Sonja had been working hard on our little base as well. It looked  sandy and very basic (basically just a pit with walls and a furnace), but it would do.  I stood up in front of it and announced, “Everyone be very very careful. I’m about to distribute the swords.” 

Everyone crowded around me anxiously. With great care not to accidentally cut myself ot others, I handed a sword to Sonja, Tucker, and Tom. Tom laughed maniacally and ran his hands over it. A fear response went off in my brain. Tom + Sword = usually bad things, especially when there’s laughter involved. I turned the blade in my hand. The fear was replaced by reassurance; we now had weapons to defend ourselves, and besides, Tom wouldn’t hurt me in this universe.

Right?

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

We all went back to our activities; Tucker and I mining, Tom and Sonja farming. 

“Tom! Please, I need the hoe,” Sonja begged for what seemed like the 50th time. Tom wasn’t very good at staying on task.

“Why don’t you just use yourself AYYYYYYYYY,” Tom roasted. Tucker’s laughter rang out from the mine, but he promptly caught himself and chided Tom. “Wait a minute. That’s rude, man.” It was Sonja’s turn to laugh now. 

I felt a twinge of hunger. “What are we going to do for food?” 

“Ummmmm…. Not wheat for sure, because we have to use that for breeding,” Tom responded.

“Yeah, I’d say- God! These wolves keep on killing our animals!” Tucker griped, finding more mutton and wool on the ground. He put it in his inventory next to the rabbit hide and meat he kept retrieving from the wolves’ spoils. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna slay the wolf.”

I chuckled. “Alright man, you go for it.” I turned around and got distracted by a creeper that I saw in the corner of my eye. When I turned back around, there was no wolf in sight and Tucker and Sonja were making what they called ‘an animal pit’. 

“That looks like a very interesting thing you’re trying to do there, Tucker,” I implied, smirking while watching Tucker try to nudge a pig into the pen.

“Would you stop? Stop being so immature,” Tucker groaned.

 Sonja giggled. “Yeah, Tucker, I don’t know what you’re trying to do to that pig there, but, uhhh…” Tucker gave his girlfriend a friendly tap on the shoulder. Meanwhile, I saw Tom tear behind them, chasing a rabbit with a sword.

“Tom, what are you doing?!” I admonished him. 

“I got ‘im!” He announced proudly, holding it up in the air. Sonja drew in the most outraged gasp. Even Tucker seemed offended. 

I shook my head. “Tom, you heartless monster.”

Tom didn’t care. “I didn’t do nothin wrong,” he shrugged, taking it back to the house. “Look, I even got something from it! Rabbit hide…” He put it in the chest that had been accumulating random stuff. Tucker and Sonja were still tutting outside. 

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  

Aside from much, much more animal herding, a magnificent tree growing and promptly being chopped down, and Tom killing a skeleton and scaring us all half to death, we really didn’t do much for the rest of the day. With the looming worry of food encroaching on our minds and the goal of survival becoming a bit easier due to the sun rising, Tom, Tucker, Sonja, and I sat down and enjoyed what little we had; our sand hut, some cooked rabbit, the breeze, and each other. 

Well, I think that about wraps things up for our first couple of days, and the next entry will probably be from Tucker. So… yeah. Excited for that.

[A/N this is the first part in what hopefully is many of a retelling/explorative fanfiction of Trinity Island! I hope you enjoyed! Feedback makes my heart explode]