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nova--spark · 11 months

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Earth 101 : A Manual for the Visiting Cybertronian

Chapter Three : Human Holidays Part 1

As a part of most human religions, there are special days celebrated all across planet Earth in accordance to the beliefs of their people.

A number of these holidays have similarities to our own Cybertronian holidays, as their emphasis tends to be that of showing appreciation for the people around them, or for the sacrifices of those that came before them.

A great many interviews were done with our human allies, many of various cultures and backgrounds so that this guide could have many for us to understand.

As the human calendar hosts several holidays within its ranks, this chapter will be divided as to not exceed the word limit and attention span of the reader who may be going over this guide.

We shall begin with the month of January, and will continue in the order of months onward!

Within the month of January, there are a small number of holidays that Earth celebrates.

January 1st is dedicated as ‘New Year’s Day’, a ‘Year’ being what Earths calls a Vorn, but lasts only a singular Orbital Cycle. This particular holiday is celebrated as the beginning of the year, and the day prior, is spent awake till the last minute of that year, then celebration ensues as the New Year begins!

Well, at least the new year for most Western countries, or at least, those who celebrate it on what I believe sources call the ‘Roman Calendar’.

January 6th is dedicated to a Latin American known as ‘Three Kings Day’, and is also known as the last and 12th night of the Christmas holidays [to be expanded upon later in this chapter]. This holiday is celebrated with exchanges of gifts between families, as well as the sharing and consumption of a special type of holiday sweet known as a ‘Rosca de Reyes’, which appears to have plastic toys of human offspring inside, in a bizarre human tradition of finding it.

However it would appear often the humans do NOT wish to find these toys and chose to instead hide them in their mouth, rest of their food, or even swallow them.

Editor’s Note: Apparently swallowing these bizarre toys is rare but is still a baffling choice.

Chinese New Year is also celebrated within the month of January and at times in February, and is the beginning of the lunar new year, a cultural difference. These celebrations can last several days, entailing wonderful parades, festivals, family gatherings, gift exchanges, and many many wondrous traditions which are meant to bring in good luck for the new year to come. The ending of these celebrations are sent off with a beautiful lantern festival, which I hope perhaps I may witness.

February is next and is host to an equally beautiful amount of holidays.

Valentine’s Day is a holiday which humans celebrate on the 14th of the month, and is dedicated to the romantic bonds they have with their courted or with their conjux endura, which is known on Earth by the terms of boyfriend/girlfriend/partner and wife/husband/spouse.

Romantic moments are shared on outings of various kinds, and gifts may range from treats like human made sweets, flowers, jewelry and all manner of gift from low cost to expensive.

However, it would appear that non-courted or single humans still celebrate this day, choosing to instead celebrate their bonds of friendship, and Amica, even familial bonds with their Caretakers and siblings.

Such a holiday to celebrate loved ones in all their forms in a sparkwarming sight, and many a Cybertronian has adopted this holiday into their own lifestyle, myself included.

March is host to many a religious celebration, of which I feel that I must not cover at this time, as so to not disrespect the customs which I am currently not well informed of.

However, I may indeed speak of the holiday known of as Saint Patrick’s Day, celebrated on March 17th, which according to a human liaison, entails quite heavily of drinking the human equivalent of high grade Energon throughout the day and well into the night. It originates from the land known as Ireland, if records are correctly noted.

It is celebrated with various parades and also entails of celebrating a creature known as a ‘leprechaun’.

Editor’s note: I have been informed the creature mentioned is not real, and is in fact, just a mythological being in human folklore. I was quite concerned indeed to hear of a mischievous creature smaller than a Mini-Con who apparently carries around a pot of gold.

April is a month which has a rather interesting set of holidays.

April 1st is regarded as April Fool’s Day. As it appears, this human holiday is celebrated by the playing of tricks, pranks and other mischievous acts big and small, and they are done all in good fun. It is a quite enjoyed holiday as it appears practical jokes of this form are often taken well by most humans, though some do not like to do them and do not participate.

It is here I must pause and implore you, my dearest reader of this manual, that Commander Ultra Magnus warns any mech and femme looking to participate in this holiday must abide by certain rules.

We do not want a repeat of last orbital-cycle’s incident where the Wreckers somehow welded a large quantity of the base's furnishings onto the ceilings.

We are still not quite sure how this was achieved and would rather it not be recreated this cycle, as we are still struggling to remove the remaining welded furnishings.

Any pranks of this caliber and their culprits will have to undergo a formal reprimand and undergo a seminar about proper protocol in accordance.

Also in the month of April, is the celebration of Easter, commonly celebrated on a Sunday and is known as a religious holiday in origin.

However, with the passing of time, different traditions have also taken hold, and is now commonly celebrated as a coming of the Spring season.

Families will often hide what are known as eggs, candied, plastic or even hollowed animal eggs filled in with various goodies ranging from miniature toys, confetti paper, and small treats and sugar confections for human sparklings to enjoy. These treasure eggs are often painted in various bright colors, patterns and more, and are collected in equally colorful and delightful baskets.

This celebration is often times connected to the Terran animal known as the rabbit, who in many Terran religions is known to be a symbol of the coming spring and life.

That said, though the holiday of Easter is known to have the ‘Easter Bunny’, these creatures do not in face lay eggs of any kind, and is a common misconception.

Once again, dear reader, we take this time to inform you that there is indeed no such creature as an anthropomorphic rabbit, the Easter Bunny is often just a human disguised as a large rabbit for the pure enjoyment of the children celebrating this holiday.

Do not attempt to chase, capture, trap, or in any other way bring harm to said figure should you come across one, as they are harmless and just humans having a bit of entertainment.

This rabbit disguise is used often when hiding the treasure eggs, and so we implore you do not disturb the adult human’s task of doing so.

Lastly, we strongly suggest that any and all mechs do not by any means attempt to disguise themselves as said Easter Bunny, as we do not need a repeat of the last time someone tried to transform whilst wearing said suit.

We sincerely hope your knowledge of Terran holidays has been expanded with this initial dive to the many many celebrations throughout the Terran orbital-cycle!

Any and all queries regarding further analysis and explanation of these holidays and their origins are to be related to the human archivists and liaisons in our ranks who may give differing explanations but nonetheless enlightening.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #maccadam #maccadams #tf prime #tf bayverse #tf rid 2015 #tf rid15 #earth 101 : a manual for the visiting cybertronian #nova writings #nova notes

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third-world-punks · 3 months

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✦ THIRD-WORLD PUNKS ✦ INTRODUCTION

“Who are we? We are the global South, that large set of creations and creatures that has been sacrificed to the infinite voracity of capitalism, colonialism, patriarchy, and all their satellite-oppressions. We are present at every cardinal point because our geography is the geography of injustice and oppression. We are not everyone; we are those who do not resign themselves to sacrifice and therefore resist. We have dignity. We are all indigenous peoples because we are where we have always been, before we had owners, masters, or bosses, or because we are where we were taken against our will and where owners, masters, or bosses were imposed on us. They want to impose on us the fear of having a boss and the fear of not having a boss, so that we may not imagine ourselves without fear. We resist. We are widely diverse human beings united by the idea that the understanding of the world is much larger than the Western understanding of the world. We believe that the transformation of the world may also occur in ways not foreseen by the global North. We are animals and plants, biodiversity and water, earth and Pachamama, ancestors and future generations—whose suffering appears less in the news than the suffering of humans but is closely linked to theirs, even though they may be unaware of it.” — Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Epistemologies of the South: Justice Against Epistemicide.

We are THIRD-WORLD PUNKS, a blog devoted to cultivating a dark-academia aesthetic inspired by Latin America and the UK Punk Scene. I'm your host, PHILOSOPHIKA, a 33-year-old British and Colombian philosopher specialising in aesthetics (the branch of philosophy that studies concepts such as beauty and ugliness and investigates the nature of art and the senses) and anti-totalitarian ethics. Keep reading to learn more about the aesthetic's main goals, sources of inspiration, and suggested hashtags.

✦ OUR MISSION

To create a Latin American take on the 'dark academia' aesthetic from the perspective of the region's actual inhabitants. The T.W.P. aesthetic actively avoids depicting the region as a holiday destination (fruity drinks, trendy hotels, sexy pool boys, designer sunglasses, etc.) or representing the culture through a tourist's eyes (for example, as exclusively consisting of festivals or big public events). This aesthetic should provide the viewer with an intimate portrait of what it's actually like to call this region home. Images of local food, daily customs, traditional clothing, distinctive architecture, weather patterns, etc., are encouraged.

To provide a modern fusion between Latin American (principally Colombian) and UK culture that does not reproduce the aesthetics of British colonialism. To this end, the T.W.P. aesthetic steers clear of antique botanical prints, colonial uniforms, overly beige colour palettes, floral chintz wallpapers or decorative accents, leather trunks, and/or anything even faintly reminiscent of a plantation. Emphasis is placed instead on UK Punk fashion and culture (think Camden Market and Vivienne Westwood), extravagant and eclectic UK (& European) architecture and interior design, and Oxbridge academia vibes.

To challenge what traditional academia looks and feels like, as well as its core tenets (eurocentrism, US-centrism, elitism, abelism, etc.). The T.W.P aesthetic celebrates and encourages out-of-the-box thinking, ethnic and racial diversity, neurodivergent and LGBTQIA+ higher education experiences, as well as discussions of postcolonial, queer, and feminist theory, among others (think TWAIL: Third-World Approaches to International Law). Quotations, reading lists, book recommendations or reviews, and catchphrases along these lines are welcome.

✦ SOURCES OF INSPIRATION

— art deco/decopunk — art nouveau — solarpunk— steampunk — gutterpunk — latin american geography, flora & fauna — latin american culture — spanish colonial architecture — pre-columbian latin america — 70's & 80's uk punk scene — elements of cyberpunk — alternative fashion — maximalism — haute boheme aesthetic

✦ RELEVANT HASHTAGS

Do you want to tag something with this aesthetic on your blog? Check out the suggestions below:

#TWP — #TWPs — #TWP Aesthetic — #TWPs Aesthetic | #Third-World Punks — #Third World Punks — #Third-World Punks Aesthetic —

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sixminutestoriesblog · 6 months

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st. patrick's day

Saint Patrick's Day! Green beer, green clothes, parades and corned beef and cabbage for all! In America, we have a lot of traditions associated with St. Pat's Day and a pleasure in celebrating them whether we're Irish or not - heck, even whether we understand them or not.

So let's take a look at some of the ways we celebrate and what we get wrong - and right.

To start with the man himself, Saint Patrick wasn't Irish. Patrick grew up on the Britain side of things. This doesn't make him British however. At the time, the Isle of Britain was run, mostly, by the Romans and letters from Patrick that have survived see him not only writing them in Latin but signing them as Patricius. Whether he was Roman by birth is still a mystery to this day but his family is believed to have been part of the Roman aristocracy. At sixteen, he was kidnapped and ended up in slavery as a shepherd in Ireland before eventually escaping back to Britain. After receiving training however, he returned to Ireland as a missionary and the rest is - well, not history but certainly lore.

There's some speculation, in fact, that the Saint Patrick of myth was actually two men. Saint Patrick the escaped slave and a bishop sent by Pope Celestine in 431 named Palladius to support the 'Irish believing in Christ' that already lived there.

Did he, or they, at least drive out the snakes? Legend says that St. Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland and the island has been slither free since. The truth is - according to fossil records, Ireland never had any snakes to drive out. Ireland was under an ice sheet up until the last glacial period and after that it was safely surrounded by water. To save a little bit of the story, some historians believe 'driving out the snakes' was more of a metaphor for driving out the pagan religions of that time instead.

But we totally wear green to avoid getting pinched! Right? Actually - yes. Though the pinching is supposed to come from mischievous leprechauns, not your over-enthusiastic siblings. Apparently, leprechauns can't see you if you're wearing green and therefore, they can't pinch what they can't see. Given our decorations featuring the little people dressed all in green, you'd think that would make it hard for them to find each other but - not really. You see, traditionally - leprechauns wore red.

The pot of gold, sometimes at the end of the rainbow though - that's real(ish).

So is the leprechauns' strange blind spot with green why everything's green on St. Pat's Day? Not really. Green is associated with Ireland, the Emerald Isle, these days but for most of its history, Ireland, and St. Patrick's, color - was blue. Green recently came into prominence during Ireland's struggle with England. Green came to be associated with the Irish side of things and wearing green was a way to show which side of that you were on. The green beer/food though? That's entirely an American thing.

Speaking of green beer, the drinking is an American thing as well. Or, at least, the 'this is a traditional part of the holiday'. In Ireland, Saint Patrick's Day has long been a Catholic religious holiday - and it also happens to fall in the middle of Lent. Originally, the day had a lot more to do with going to church than to the local pub. Which isn't to say no one in Ireland celebrates the holiday with a drink. 'Drowning the shamrock' involved pouring whiskey over a shamrock in the bottom of a glass. The whiskey is then drunk and the soaked plant is thrown over your left shoulder to complete the tradition - and get you some extra luck.

Shamrocks being considered lucky is a part of the holiday. Called 'seamroy' by the ancient Celts, the shamrock was considered a sacred plant. St. Patrick was also supposed to have used the three leaves of the plant to explain the Trinity during his sermons. Like the clover, finding a four leaf shamrock is good luck and five leaves promises a future of vast wealth!

So, yes, a lot of our St. Pat's Day traditions aren't exactly... traditional. Don't discount them or their importance however. Many of the ways we celebrate St. Patrick's Day today are the direct results of Irish immigrants to America. The parades, the corned beef and cabbage, the celebration of Irish traditions - those were all created in the mid to late 1800s by Irish Americans that wanted to celebrate their heritage. So don't feel bad for indulging in a day of parties and eating your favorite food.

Just remember to cut a cross in your soda buns to 'let the devil out' before putting them in the oven to bake for the holiday.

#st. patricks day #saint patrick day #folklore #superstition #wearing the green #irish #irish history #st patrick #ireland

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paris-geller-was-straightwashed · 6 months

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A Ramble about St. Patrick's Day, Irish identity/diaspora & colonization

Dia duit! Cal is ainm dom. Labhraim Bearla ach táim ag foghlaim Gaeilge. Sláinte!

hope that was legible (and that I didn't just embarrass myself in front of fluent Irish speakers..). it being st. patrick's day, I was having some thoughts, and I've been trying to figure out what I want to say.

after once thinking st.pat's was nothing more then a throwaway holiday for drinking, now, after delving into my family genealogy and therefore into irish history/identity, I'm one of the people who I'm sure are pissed that a holiday meant to celebrate irish identity has been dwindled into nothing but stockphotos of leprechauns and drinking till you black out.

one could argue about how heavy drinking has been weaponized as an anti-irish sentiment for years, but I digress. instead, I would encourage anyone listening to learn a bit more about irish history beyond the stereotypes, and especially if you have irish roots yourself! irish immigrants carried this holiday and their irishness across waters, but overtime, for some that identity and cultural tie has been thinned.

identity is huge in a person's life, and for me, I've always been curious as to where I come from. I've been thinking a lot lately, about how there's this unspoken gap within the diaspora of north american white people (this really interesting post sparked it) when it comes to cultural identity. the majority of us would state first that we are canadian/american, but for some, unless you are indigenous, you have no other ties. I've always wanted to feel that - to know where my roots are, to know that my ancestors once had a language they taught their children, a shared dish, a way of dance. something that belongs to you. it's key to know where you come from, and some people on that that post were saying they come from nowhere - that is not true! my friend, you come from somewhere! your ancestors had traditions and dishes and loving terms of endearment in their own tongue, that they passed down for generations and maybe hoped, it would reach you. you have roots, friend; ancient ties came before you, and they're ready to be picked back up if you wish.

my irish roots come from my father's father's grandmother. she carried the name phelan - o’faolain, which loosely means wolf. the name carries all the way back to the ancient names of ireland, to the decies, before the normans arrived. before we even dated the year with four digits. once from the waterford area, later many moved up to kilkenny - the very place my irish ancestors lived before they immigrated in the 1800's. anyone who's looked into irish history, knows it's both beautiful and tortured. there's a lot of suffering from colonization and other tragedies that's still felt today, but there's more to learn then that. after always assuming I was bad at languages, I'm now four months into irish lessons and am learning lots! and as of last week, have ordered my own bodhram, or irish drum, with hope I can learn to play it (it's got this sick ass celtic dragon on it too). I can play it, knowing people with my cultural ties have long enjoyed tapping their toes to it's jigs, and I can (clunkily) speak the tongue, knowing it carried my ancestors for eons.

this is a great time, to reignite roots if you wish. and a great time, to know that the irish are more then the horror handed to them or the lucky charms mascot in a pot of gold.

HOWEVER,

I would feel it wrong without noting what learning about irish history has given me - and that's a deeper understanding of colonization. it would be a disservice, to celebrate my ancestors and the people who survived it, while an active genocide is going on in gaza right now.

while the minute details sometimes may be different, what I can see now, is that regardless, colonization is the same anywhere you look. the people in gaza are starving now just as the irish did over a hundred years ago - by their oppressors danging the aid they need out of reach. entire family lines have been wiped out in gaza, and right now, remnants of bones of whole irish families taken by starvation lay deep in the ground. reports of gazans left to eat nothing but animal feed, the same starvation that drove irish families to scavenge for seaweed by the shore. this isn't even to mention the troubles and irish fighters gunned down by (british) forces similar to palestinians being gunned for daring to fight for their independence; or northern ireland, irish land stolen by the british just as palestine was stolen by israel. while not wanting to center western views, there's a reason you see irish flags at palestinian protests. the leftovers of colonization don't magically disappear and a people simply don't forget.

and let me say right now - my ancestors and their people didn't survive those horrors just to allow it to happen to another. I and many others in the diaspora are here bc by chance, our ancestors survived; gazans should not be having to put their lives at the same gambling table. 31,000 deaths as last checked, and many families are already lost - this needs to stop now.

you can donate to the PCRF (aid for children) and UNRWA, who've been delivering aid on the ground. there's also e-sims you can buy to help gazans connect to their loved ones and get help. and if you're truly broke and/or simply cannot, there's daily clicks to generate aid.

Happy St. Paddy's and Phalaistín saor in aisce!

#st patricks day #st paddys day #irish solidarity with palestine #ireland #palestine #cultural heritage #ps if anyone has the link to the spreadsheet of gofundme's pls link it I couldn't find it #also I wanted to say bc I couldn't fit this in the text #that I recognize that though irish immigrants often came fleeing from their suffering at home #it aided in the displacement and colonization of indigenous people #either through direct choice or by powers governing it #and so to any indigenous people reading this: I respect that #and agree that the irish also have to recognize their role in oppressing others often people of colour #it's all never straightforward #anyways enjoy this ramble

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freakvampire · 8 months

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i don't understand how anyone can be seeing what's happening in Gaza and not dedicate an entire chunk of their heart and mind to it. i drive to the grocery store and think about how the Palestinian people are being starved, out of cruelty. on the way there, they're putting in a new turn lane, and they had to cut down trees to do it. my mom commented on how heartbreaking it is for these trees, at least fifty to a hundred years old, to be cut down, and all i can think about is the centuries old olive trees being cut down, uprooted, and destroyed. i buy sparkling water for my dad, and all i can think about is how Gazans don't have clean water to drink or cook or clean themselves with. i see seasonal holiday decor, and all i can think about is how Ramadan is just around the corner, and Palestinians, who deserve to live and worship and celebrate, are dying every hour. on the drive home, all i can think about is how my city would look if it faced even a fraction of the destruction of Gaza. i get home, to my family, and all i can think about is how many families have been destroyed, ripped apart, slaughtered, and how many more are freezing and starving and dying in hospitals that are meant to be sanctuaries.

i don't mean to make this all about me and my white american grief; what i mean to say is, how can anyone stand by? how can anyone hear what's happening and shrug their shoulders? refuse to recognize the humanity of Palestinians, their right to exist? how can you wake up every morning and think about anything besides the people suffering for no reason other than being Palestinian in Palestine? and how can you know that american bombs are being dropped on them and still tout that "blue no matter who" is the only way to save america?

i mentioned that Biden signed an aid package to israel. my mom said "that was before it got serious," no, it wasn't. it's been serious for 75 years. "no one knew what would happen," yes, we did. Palestinians did. and they told us. they've been telling us, for something like 75 years. there's no excuse. there is no excuse.

#not even tagging this bc i don't want to distract from palestinians posting or any actual news updates #it's just me mumbling because im so emotional all the damn time #which like. yeah. it's hard not to be emotional when you're watching active genocide. you should be emotional. people are dying.#herb.txt

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wheeler-beretta-harwood · 2 years

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Fourth of July is the holiday when Americans get to day drink usually on the beach, backyards bbqs, or pools while eating way too many hot dogs and hamburgers. Than shoot off fireworks while trying not to burn your fingers off. How are you and your AEW bae celebrating?

I have had a little bit of writer's block with this one, that's why I didn't get it out there on time. Just pretend it's still the Fourth of July (although it isn't that important here). I am also not really happy with it.

This is a prequel to sunburn aftercare, so to speak.

"Christine!!!" I almost tackle my friend down when I hug her. She tumbles a bit, but doesn't fall.

"Calm down, Sweet Tits, it's just been 3 weeks", she replies and giggles.

Next to her, her now husband Trent just shakes his head at me.

"Stop giving me that look, Beretta. You stole my best friend for your excessively long honeymoon! 20 days!! Who does that?!" He just chuckles at my remark and wraps an arm around Christine as I let them into Cash's and my home.

We walk outside to the pool, where Dax and Cash already stand in front of the grill, each a cold beer in hand. As soon as Trent sees, his male sense tickles and he, too, stands next to the grill. I will never understand what it is with men and staring into open fire, watching meat cook itself. I laugh at the sight before pulling Christine along with me, over to where Maria sits on one of the loungers.

Cash knows I do not care much for the holiday itself as I am not American, but I love having our friends around. That's why he suggested we have a little get together at our place. It's just us 6: our newlyweds Christine and Trent, Dax and his wife Maria, and the two of us. We'll have a little BBQ with our best friends before we go to the beach and watch the fireworks there.

As the two ladies get comfortable, I walk over to get some drinks - wine for Christine, and tequila for Maria, she is her husband's wife after all, as well as a beer for myself. When I return, the two are already deep in conversation about Christine's honeymoon. Her eyes are glowing while she talks about all the things they did, the amazing food they had, and just generally about how great Trent is. I smile because I adore how happy she is with him and that they've taken the next step in their relationship. She deserves all the happiness in the world and more.

When she is finished with her story, we all look over to our men, who are in deep conversation themselves. It's either about the same we talked, or they still discuss the beauty of a good ol' BBQ. I think it is option number 1.

My eyes lock with Cash's, and for the first in a long time, I have no idea what the look he gives me means. His focus shifts back to Dax, and it seems our food is about to be ready.

When I turn back to my girls, they both expectantly look at me.

"What?!"

Maria is the first to speak. "You do realize that you're now the only one NOT married?"

I give her a weak smile. "So?"

Now Christine chimes in, looking over the frame of her sunglasses. "Soooo, when are you tying the knot?! You guys haven't even talked about it yet!"

"We actually have...at least we mentioned it. After your wedding, when we had our extended weekend. You know, the sunburn incident."

Both their eyes grow big, and I can't help but laugh. "Chill! We're not engaged. We both just said we wanted to get married to each other eventually. That's it." They both squeal, because they know it is a big step for the two of us to even just say that. It's not that we are afraid of the commitment that comes with marriage, but we both have had our trouble with accepting love. It's like we never felt worthy of love, and needed to learn just that. And it is still a process.

"Keep it down, will ya?" I try to hush them. I freak out a little when Cash walks over to us, but he just tells us the food's ready. I get up and he takes my hand and leads me over to where I set up the table earlier on. Then we enjoy our steaks, burgers, and hotdogs. It is a wonderful evening among friends, filled with funny stories and lots of laughter.

When it gets dark, we drive over to the beach, and I watch my two friends and their significant others walk in front of Cash and myself. It's not that I am jealous, but their comment keeps ringing in my ears.

I'm the only one not married...

As we walk along, Cash puts his hand on the small of my back and presses his lips on my temple. I grin and lean into his embrace. No matter how long we have been together, I still get flustered when he gets all soft with me. It makes me weak in the knees and my stomach turns in the most delicious way imaginable.

We find a nice place and wait for the fireworks to start. As soon as they go off, I notice in the corner of my eye that Trent is making out with my best friend, like a bunch of teenagers. I chuckle lowly and lean against Cash who's standing behind me. He, on the other hand, watches how Dax holds his wife close to him and kisses her cheek.

They are all so happy...

Then I feel his arms wrap around my stomach while he rests his head on my shoulder.

"Marry me please, Cash." I hear the words come out of my mouth before my brain can even process what they mean. When I realize what I just said, I feel...relieved. Free. Those words needed to come out.

Behind me, I hear Cash puff out a gust of air before he kisses my neck and whispers in my ear. "You always have to beat me to it, Buttercup." I notice him fumbling in his pocket and then he holds a velvet box in front of me. When he opens it, I see a beautiful ring with a single mint green gem.

"How long...?", is everything that comes out of my mouth as I turn my head to face him. His eyes are watery when he answers me. "Two months." My eyes tear up as well, and I press my lips against his. "I love you so much, babygirl", he says when we pull apart, "And I have known for quite some time that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So yes, I will gladly marry you." Then he slides the ring on my finger.

"I love you too, baby. Can't wait to brag with my handsome, talented husband." We kiss again, and I feel like I am on cloud nine until Christine's voice brings me back down to earth.

"Did....did you just get engaged!?!" Our only answers are cheesy grins on our faces. She jumps up and down like a child and then throws herself at me, congratulating me. The kerfuffle she causes makes everyone around us notice what just happened and all the strangers start clapping. I hide my face in Cash's neck. "Oh God, make it stop, baby." I say, lips ghosting over his skin.

He laughs at my comment. "Oh come on, Buttercup, let's give them a show." Then he cups my face and brushes his lips against mine before passionately kissing me. I melt into his touch and don't care about anyone else around anymore. He's all that matters. When we stop kissing, I tell him the Fourth of July now is my favorite holiday.

#the best girl asks i answer #top girls out #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagine #aew #cash wheeler imagine #cash wheeler #all elite wrestling #aew fanfiction

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ugotnojamzzz · 3 years

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Mistake Pt.3

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jungkook

Synopsis: Jungkook hasn’t healed even months after his ex-girlfriend Y/N said ‘I do’ to another man. After one night of desperately trying to hold onto Y/N, will he get back the woman he loves, or was it all nothing but a mistake? (read previous parts to understand)

For a bit of context while I try and write what came before: Y/N is a successful singer songwriter although it’s not super relevant here. I guess you could imagine her to be American although it won’t be clearly stated, she has been really close friends with the other members, for several years especially Hoseok. She had a tumultuous yet terribly loving relationship with JK that ended on rather good terms (you’ll see in other chapters), but Jungkook was lightyears away from being ready to see her married to another man.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of really sad and angsty.

Chapter soundtrack : River – Joni Mitchell

"He tried hard to help me You know, he put me at ease And he loved me so naughty Made me weak in the knees, Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on"

Alright let’s get into this,

Christmas music was playing softly in the warmth of the H/N household.

The young couple had decided to host Christmas together for their close friends in their newly purchased London home. Kids were running around everywhere, stuffing their face with appetizers, while grown-ups were enjoying more than a few glasses of wine around the crackling fireplace.

However, H/N was busy looking around for his wife with a frown on his face. He had barely seen her since the arrival of the first few guests.

“Hey Gemma, do you know where my beautiful wife might be?” he asked his sister.

“I’m not sure, although she did tell me she was going to the loo about half an hour ago”

Indeed, the hostess was still in the master bathroom upstairs. Far from depicting the holiday spirit, she was sitting on the tiled floor, with her arms wrapped around her knees, surrounded by used tissues and mascara running wildly down her cheeks.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” she whispered, for what felt like the hundredth time. She took some more toilet paper to blow her nose, jumping slightly as she heard a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N, come out, love, everyone’s here,” she heard her husband say.

She got up, flinching as she looked at her reflection. She looked like shit, “Um, I’ll be right down babe, you should go back down, I’m just touching up my makeup”, she said, hoping H/N wouldn’t notice the shakiness in her voice.

“Are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.

“Of course I am,” she answered. She was relieved to heard him walk back downstairs.

Of course, I am, she thought. Was she really, though? Definitely not. She quickly threw all her mess into the tiny bin, before starting to work on her hair and face. Just get through tonight, she thought, just tonight.

“Ah, there she is!” everyone cheered upon seeing her walk down the split staircase, her silky dress flowing beautifully behind her and her makeup opaque enough to hide any previous meltdown.

“Sorry I kept you waiting. You know I love making an entrance,” she giggled trying to hide her nervousness behind a sparkly smile. No one seemed to notice something was wrong as she went around the room, greeting all the guests one by one, cracking a quick joke here and there. Most of the guests were H/N’s friends, but Y/N didn’t mind that much, she understood London wasn’t exactly an ideal location for most of her friends. Plus, she’d gotten close to her husband’s inner circle. It didn’t quite feel like family just yet, but it would come, or at least that’s what she hoped.

“You look a bit pale sweetheart,” H/N’s agent told her laughing, “here, have a drink it’ll loosen you right up”.

Y/N hesitantly took the champagne flute he was holding out to her, mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ before heading to the empty reading room. She let out a sigh of relief as she heard the door close behind her, shutting any noise out. She loved that room; it was always so quiet and cozy. The walls were covered in her favorite books, and the grand piano was almost buried under a mountain of sheet music and song drafts, both hers and H/N’s. The back wall, however, was very neatly organized. It was where they had decided to place their award shelves.

Without even realizing, she approached one award in particular. It was her very first Grammy, which she’d gotten three years before. Next to it was a picture taken at the show’s after party. She grabbed it gently, a sad smile spreading her face. It was of her, along with Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook, making a silly pose with the grammy. She brushed her thumb across Jungkook’s face, her throat suddenly drying up, before letting her attention back on the glass in her hand. She contemplated the idea of downing it in one swift movement. God knew she needed a drink. But she wasn’t sure it would be wise.

Fuck it, she thought.

She weakly brought the glass up to her lips but was interrupted as she heard the door open and footsteps approaching from behind her.

“You look beautiful” H/N whispered in her ear, laying a soft kiss on her shoulder and wrapping one arm around her waist, his hand landing on her belly. She stiffened at the sensation. “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine worry on his delicate features.

“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry,” she answered, smiling, setting the frame back onto the shelf. And delicately putting the glass down.

But her husband wasn’t fooled, he could feel that something was going on. Truth was, something had been going on for a while. Y/N had been distant, and quiet, very different from the sunny and bubbly girl he’d married just a year prior. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her to open up to him. He was worried his job had started taking a toll on their marriage, since YN’s strange behavior had started when he’d come back from a trip to promote his new album. Then again, H/N knew she had herself been working on some projects and even spent a couple days with her friends in Hong Kong while he was away, so she’d kept busy.

“Are you sure?”

“Just tired,” she hummed, absent-mindedly, “who would’ve thought hosting Christmas would be so stressful?”

But H/N wasn’t satisfied with his wife’s answer “Y/N, you look-”

She gently slid out of his arms and walked towards the arched window; it was pouring outside. “I told you I’m fin-”, but they were both cut off by a strong voice coming from the foyer.

“Alright everyone, picture time!”

The reading room fell silent for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to argue, neither of them knowing what to do or say. Y/N was the first to move, setting her glass down on the windowsill and stepping past him and towards the exit.

“Y/N-” he sighed, his eyes never leaving her figure.

“You heard them,” she answered, looking back at him sadly, “it’s picture time.” She quickly vanished behind the mahogany doors.

H/N was left alone in the study, with nothing to listen to but his own thoughts. He couldn’t understand what had been going on. Out of curiosity, he glanced at what Y/N was holding when he’d walked in. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he took in the picture frame.

Of course, he thought. She’d told him all about how she’d been spending the Holiday season in Seoul for the past few years. It must’ve felt weird and depressing celebrating Christmas without her boys for the first time in so long. H/N felt a lump settle in his throat. He’d taken her away from her family. Of course, he’d hoped he would’ve had become her family by then, but he knew Y/N and the Bangtan boys had a special bond that was hard for outsiders to understand. They were the family she’d chosen. And she was the only person that they had ever truly let in.

Without thinking, H/N took his phone out of his pocket and dialed his assistant’s number, “Hey Lucy, yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I just need you to do something very quickly for me.”

H/N walked quickly to the foyer, finding everyone standing around the staircase, facing the photographer. He walked to the middle of the crowd and next to Y/N, who still looked as absent as ever. But this time he chose to lay a soft kiss on her temple. “It’s okay, I’m sorry, I love you darling,” he mumbled softly against her hair.

Except it most definitely was not okay, he did not have to be sorry, and should not have loved her. Y/N felt her eyes well up as guilt once again ate at her. She discreetly wiped them. There wasn’t anything she could do now, was there?

“Everybody, say cheese!”

She turned around to face the photographer, H/N’s hand wrapping around her waist, a wide yet strained smile spreading across both of their faces.

“Cheeeeese!” everybody yelled.

To say Y/N was exhausted would’ve been an understatement. The party had ended being a lot of fun for everybody, perhaps a tad too much fun, as the last guest had left in a cab after 3AM.

She yawned as she took off her jewelry and heels, before heading to the bathroom getting ready for bed. Y/N heard her husband’s soft snores coming from the bedroom and couldn’t help but smile a little as she remembered his sister had spent the night warning him against the spiked eggnog. He clearly had taken her advice lightly and had ended up getting completely hammered.

She started taking her makeup off, lazily throwing her used wipes in the bin. She froze for a second. The girl wasn’t tired enough to have forgotten the reason why she’d been sobbing on the floor just 6 hours earlier.

She decided to quietly shut the bathroom door, flinching when the lock loudly clicked. She got down on her knees and started rummaging through the bin, only to let out a painful sigh when she noticed her worst nightmare hadn’t disappeared. Yep. They were still in there. All three of them, mocking her with their fucking baby blue lines.

Positive.

Okay, I know we didn’t get any Jungkook in this part but don’t worry, next chapter we’ll see our boys again. I just thought it was important to get a bit of Y/N and her husband before the big reveal aha, even though I guess it was a little expected lol, but then again, I warned you this would be a soap opera. Once again don't hesitate to send me whatever or leave comments I’m always happy to get feedback xxx

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kthynes · 3 years

Text

meet cute

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

request: What about Chris meeting a cute girl at target. It's 10 pm and the reader is with a good friend buying some food. The reader is not from the USA she is from Germany and visit her friend in the USA. Chris and the Reader catch the Same thing and he can't keep his eyes of her even when she is younger than him (22years) - anon

warning: none, just marshmallow fluff

a/n: I honestly think there's so much sweetness and anticipation in first chance meetings. If I were to ever bump into Chris irl then this is how I would want it to pan out. Thanks for the request, anon! Stay lovin' folksss.

ALSO that look, that mf look. I'd die.

-:-

America is nothing like Germany or any other country you've visited in the past. Aside from economic differences and views in politics, you find that everyone here is generally accepting, a bit aggressive, but kind enough to overshare their thoughts. There is a jovial atmosphere that you find yourself attesting to and then there's also the glaring culture shock that assaults you left right and center. It has definitely been a happy adjustment.

"Becky Jane price check to cash five! Becky Jane price check to cash five." A woman hollers over the intercom as you and your good friend, Mia giggle down the aisles. You are in America visiting her for the first time after a long time. She's well settled, attending UMass, living her best life and you couldn't be any happier for her.

"So what should we make for dinner?" She turns to ask you.

"Anything is fine with me, I mean it's getting kind of late now and I'd be okay with cereal." You point to a box of Cocopuffs and your friend shakes her head.

"That's not the first meal you're having in America Y/N." She chides you before coming up with one of her better ideas. "C'mon let's go over to the produce section, we can grab some ingredients for my world famous spinach and feta lasagna!"

You laugh but a part of you is tempted to stay, still enticed by the large array of sugary breakfast cereals. "Actually you go on ahead I wanna look around here for a bit."

Your friend rolls her eyes. "Fine if you're really hellbent then we can have cereal for dessert. How does that sound?"

"Perfect." You smile at her as she shakes her head and trolleys down the narrow aisle way.

There are so many options and while standing in the middle of the aisle you can't help but take in the rows of corrugated and colorful boxes, all brandishing a character or mascot of some sort. You finally settle on one box, reach over to grab it but then come up short when another hand does the same. You gasp and unsubtly retreat in unison, there's that assurgency that parallels your feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness.

"Oh I'm sorry!" You say before getting a better look at the man standing right next to you.

"No that's alright." He chuckles as your eyes shamelessly widen. It's him. The all American ass man himself, Chris Evans. He seems unreal. A simulation almost as he's idling around in a fitted red plaid flannel, dark blue jeans and a NASA cap that has seen better days.

"You can have it."

"Er, um, are you sure?" You ask and he nods, playfully bouncing his brows at you with an immobilizing grin.

"Yeah I can settle for something else." He eyes the shelf and then picks out a box of Special K, fibrous and healthy.

"Oh no don't, here take it." You joust him with the box and his head drops, laughing softly.

"It's fine. I'm better off with this stuff anyways." He says while sticking around, edging for some more conversation as his eyes inconspicuously drinks you up. You bob your head up and down and purse your lips, flustered to even properly smile at the actor who looks proportionally the same in person, if not even more breathtaking.

"I'm Chris by the way. But I'm sure you already knew that." He states out loud and you nod slightly while closely holding onto the last box of Captain Crunch. "And you must be?"

"Y/N." You say softly and his face turns up with appreciation. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl he thinks to himself.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm guessing you're not from around here." You both walk the back aisles, perusing through at a snails pace.

"How'd you..." You falter.

"You have a slight accent." Chris admits, pointing to his mouth to gesture the lilt he's been carefully in tune with. Your mouth forms into an 'o.' "But it's cute though."

"Oh!" Your voice goes up a register and then back down again when you laugh at his double sidedness. "Yeah I'm not."

"That's cool, where are ya from? If you don't mind me asking, that is." Chris holds to himself, making sure that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries by making casual conversation.

"Germany." You state without any pressing objections.

"Ahh best known for Stollen and beer and not to mention, muesli." Chris comes off a worldly man as he factualizes this statement to you as if you weren't aware of the lifestyle itself. "Which makes you very deserving of that box of Cap'n Crunch."

"Oh yeah?" You quirk a brow in questioning.

"For sure. It's an American delicacy and right, have at it." You giggle upon hearing this and Chris finds it scintillating to hear. Wow.

"Well thank you for being so thoughtful Mr. Evans." You sweetly add.

"Of course, always a gentleman." He says with a large hand pressed against his chest, proving to be an honorable man.

"Have you ever been to Germany?" You set forth with another ask and he shakes his head no.

"No I haven't really travelled around Europe like that but I would love to." Chris pipes for you to mentally take note.

"You should go when you get the chance, it's lovely."

"Like yourself?" Chris flirtatiously rebuts.

"At most."

"So what brings you to America?" He ponders.

"My friend lives here and I thought I'd come down visit her for the holidays before going back to college." You tell him and he understandably nods, feeling a pang of disappointment course through him when he realizes that you're probably young if he'd gotten his vague calculations correct.

"That's great. And is that her?" You both approach the front of the store where it's wide open and there are no shelves keeping you two hidden away. You notice your friend Mia giving you a quizzical look of disbelief, as her eyes dance between you and Chris who's used to fan behavior at different paradigms.

"It is and now I'm not going to hear the end of it." You face him with an apologetic look, cueing to Chris that you had to go. He took this in good stride while nodding with solemnness. "I should get going."

"Okay, sure, yeah."

"It was very nice meeting you, Chris." You lightly touch his arm as your thankful way of departure.

"Likewise." He answers with his eyes looking down at you and holding you in place for a split second. First goodbyes were just as ungiving as last goodbyes, especially when there's a sense of unknowingness in being reunited again. There's that chance you forcible take in hopes that the universe will have a timely plan and alignment.

"Y/N?" Mia impatiently calls for you from across the threshold and there is some shared awkwardness in letting go.

"You should..." Chris starts, eyes closing slightly as you back away.

"Right, okay well bye!" You yelp before spinning around, tight on your heels and trudging towards your friend who is now looking at Chris with big, bulbous eyes. Mia's mind races, pieces and panders like any inquisitively gossipy best friend that could've been plucked straight from a 2000's rom-com. She sputters right as you appear in front of her.

"What just happened? How'd you... Y/N, that's Chris Evans!" Mia profanely surmises just as you drop the box of cereal into the cart. "You were talking and smiling and being all cute with Chris Evans!"

"I know. Don't ask."

"I have to because he's eyeing like a hawk Y/N!"

"Oh shit, he is?"

"See for yourself m'dear." She snickers.

You turn around and notice that Chris is waiting in line but his eyes are fully on you as the smile on his lips broadens. There's a substandard twinkle in his blue irises that thanks you for your time - surely an impactful encounter that has him slightly enamored by you in clear focus. And that is enough for you to be contented, knowing that you had an unconventional meet cute with Chris Evans.

Imagine that.

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans

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the-slasher-files · 4 years

Text

Slashers React - S/O being a witch or wiccan

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, BILLY & STU and LOST BOYS

btw I am a wiccan myself so I hope you enjoy the hcs :)

JASON VOORHEES

Holy fucking shit, you guys are a POWER COUPLE, never in my life have a thought of a better couple

He may not understand at first but once you explain it to him he adores it. Abiding by the laws of nature is something he already does, so the fact that you do too and share a lot of the same opinions of nature, melts his heart

Clearing a little area in the forest making sure it is hidden away for your alter is a dream job for him

Nature walks all the time but it has more meaning now, knowing you’re a wiccan or witch

Herb, flower, mushroom or plant picking is something he will always do for you, leaving them at your alter

LOOK he found a cool rock or a weird piece of drift wood or animal skull, perfect for you :)

Finds it very sexy when you are doing witchcraft, especially if it’s in the forest

You would slow dance to the rain and light candles everywhere

Gardening would quickly turn into one of his favorite hobbies with you

Teaching him about the holidays you celebrate gives him reasons to spoil you on those days, he would bake with you, make potions with you, bring in your moon water in the early morning for you

Your crystals are his favorites, all the pretty colors and unique patterns, he might steal one and carry it around with him, rubbing it when he misses you

Anything you do to appreciate his land and the cabin you share makes his undead heart flutter

The absolute best partner for a witch or wiccan

The crystal that suits him is an Amethyst - It is a grounding stone, bringing peace and calmness but is one of the best protection stones

MICHAEL MYERS

Major head tilt, squints

Once you explain it him he still doesn’t get it, and he doesn’t care

He will just examine your stuff, poking it and moving it around pissing you off

oh great, more holidays to celebrate

Secretly thinks it is kind of cool, but he will never tell you

Maybe thinks you’re a little crazy because he heard some other person in the mental hospital going on and on like you do

If you tell him he is blessed and has gifts he will have a hard time accepting that, but he would think about it forever because there had to be an explanation for how he could never die

He will bring you home something from a cemetery probably because he still doesn’t get it

He will just stare from the shadows of a candle lit room watching you do spell work

When he's pissed beyond reason, never sage him, never place crystals on him, never get him to drink tea, you might die

He will find a crystal in his coverall pockets for protection and he will never give it back to you, it’s his now and he will cherish it

The crystal that suits him is Black Obsidian - It is a pure black stone that has a mysterious aura, heavily used for protection, it is also a very powerful stone, good for healing and truth seeking

BO SINCLAIR

Again, another bad partner for this lol

You’re a what?? He has heard of witches before but never wiccans. Coming from Louisiana it has a very heavy history on witches and voodoo, good and bad. He honestly might be shitting his pants inside but keeps it cool, just please tell him you’re a good witch. His momma always told him to never ever mess with witches.

Thinks you’re crazy for believing in that stuff

If you feel the presence of his mom and dad, never bring it up to him, the only way you could do it is say “You’ve got some angels looking over you Bo” and leave it at that

You will make him learn to appreciate nature and taking him for walks is the best thing to do, it calms him and you can teach or tell him stories about what you believe in

He would tell Lester to grab some antlers or skulls for your “ummm idk what she does, she just needs them”

If you’re in some lingerie while doing witchy work, he will ease into it more

Bo would be the guy who yells about the sage smoke stinking up the house, while he is smoking a cigarette, b a s t a r d

Jokes about his bad energy filling your alter will happen a lot

He honestly thinks its cool though, after a while, seeing a beautiful powerful soul doing something you love warms his heart

He’s going to try to understand but he will laugh and make fun

If there are people in town he’s going to hunt that night, he will have to deal with you placing some sort of protection rune, stone or necklace either in his pocket or around his neck, Bo won’t like it at first but showing you care so much for him melts his heart and he will protect it with his life

His crystal is Smokey Quartz - It is used for strength and fortifies nerves, protection, a stone that represents Pride, but also brings calmness which we all know he needs!! The smokiness of it just reminds me of the colour of alcohol or his cigarette smoke

BILLY & STU

Both genuinely curious and love it

They don’t really understand it but they are willing and ready to try

Taking you on nature walks probably wont be as relaxing as they promised; Stu will climb a weird tree and end up hurting himself, then you will find some neat looking mushrooms and they dare each other to eat it

Find it hot but are a little spooked

Billy would hate the smell of sage but Stu doesn’t mind it all

They find it sweet when you try to put protection stones in their pockets when they go to kill

Stu will bring you an average rock from the sidewalk and say hey this is neat, here you go

They are defiantly into trying witchcraft with you

Stu will love your home made teas

Billy will never make a big deal about what you do, he just thinks it is neat and willing to go get whatever you need for your work, and ngl he is more interested in dark magic

They will defiantly interrupt you will you are meditating or doing spell work so always try to do it when they aren’t home

Will ask if you could do tarot readings on them and if you use a crystal ball

The crystal for them is Jade - a good protection and supportive stone, seeks love, passion and nourishment. It is also good for dreams and astral projection

THE LOST BOYS

They are no strangers to the supernatural of course but they don’t know what a witch is beyond what they’ve seen in movies

I feel it would be very 50/50 on caring or not, this stuff isn’t even on their radars

Dwayne, I think would handle it the best. (correct me if I am wrong) He is of Native American descent, so he has heard lots of stories about shamans and he is the most spiritual out of all the boys

Once they see you doing spell work or setting up an alter they are much more interested

If you are already turned, you are arguably one of the most powerful, David will not admit it but he knows it

Marco will 100% bring you random things he likes, not at all related to witchcraft but he thinks it could be, man doesn’t get it

David finds you extremely sexy, him and Dwayne will probably be the only ones that actually get it, and David loves the power

They pretty much just leave you to it

A lot of moon and shadow work will be your main witchcraft with them

If you are cleansing the cave with sage Paul and Marco will make drug jokes and ask to smoke some

ngl I think Paul might be the most scared of you, but he will never show it, He doesn’t understand it and thinks you going to spray him with holy water or make him have nightmares

Dwayne will be the one to take you to the surrounding forests and go on some nature walks with you, collecting what you need

David - black tourmaline: a very powerful protection stone, pure black, great for purification and helping with anger. Star - rose quartz: the stone of love and purity, heals the heart, and dissolves worry and fear turning those feelings into love. Marco - Emerald: a crystal just as blue as his eyes. A stone of hope, encouragement and joy, turns negative energy into strength, love and compassion. Dwayne - fire agate: This stone has a very deep connection the earth radiating calm, stability and strength, also very good for power and protection. Paul - rutilated quartz: a crystal that seeks truth and authenticity, giving strength to the truest souls and uplifts and brings joy.

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almostdeath · 3 years

Text

Since my Christmas is already turning into something negative...I would like to share this headcanons earlier than I planned. Hope you enjoy.

Schlackity christmas Headcanons

•Quackity honestly expected Schlatt to want a "straight up traditionally American Christmas" but was surprised at the amount of enthusiasm that his partner put into finding out which Mexican traditions they could add. He did his research very properly and asked Q what he wanted to add.

•Both of them seem very excited about this holiday. For Quackity it was something very familiar and something that reminded of home because of how it is celebrated in Mexico and for Schlatt it was a celebration that he mostly did with friends and now could do with his new family.

•On the Christmas morning Quackity was actually surprised to wake up alone in bed but soon enough found a little note on the little drawer next to the bed that said "Morning, pumpkin, get your fat ass ready and get downstairs". Downstairs, in the kitchen, Schlatt already waited with breakfast. It was actually again something...more Mexican traditional. Some Huevos Rancheros and some mexican hot chocolate, which wasn't really usual for the mornings, since Schlatt preferred coffee....(The Huevos Rancheros definitely took multiple tries to make...) Quackity didn't even give Schlatt the time to say some cheesy or teasing line before hugging him tight and covering his lips with a passionate kiss.

•They decided to create a mixed tape, so there would be some classic English Christmas songs but also some Spanish ones. Quackity also added the song "Me Razón de Ser" by Banda MS" and as soon as this song turned on, he would just ask Schlatt for a dance. Q would quietly sing along, a little bit out of tact but nobody really cared for that. Schlatt doesn't understand all the words but the parts that he does get, they make him smile, he doesn't want to look away because he doesn't want to miss a single moment of the pure care, affection and passion that Quackity has in his eyes.

•Even though they can't do all unique Mexican traditions (like "Las posadas") they try to add as many as possible. Like the piñata with seven different spikes that represent the seven deadly sins. And also some classic drinks like ponche and rompope. This all is also combined with the mixed style of the decorations.

•Schlatt would have mistletoe tied to his horns, which was Quackitys initiative and Q would use this to kiss him every time he sees him. (he would also try to tie a mistletoe to Schlatts tail. Just for fun, even though it annoys the president...in the best way possible).

•They invite Fundy. Both of them know that the fox hybrid would be alone for Christmas and new year...since...the relationship with Phil and Wilbur is difficult. So they invite him. Of course he has to suffer through their endless flirting with each other...but he actually doesn't feel bad about it. He also brought Yogurt with him.

•Schlatt and Fundy were the ones busy in the kitchen and....trying to not let Quackity anywhere near it, insisting on the fact that "You are just sooooo good with kids...so...yeah....entertain Yogurt!".

•When Quackity opened his present, he just immediately said "Oh...guapito....I love it!" and Schlatt didn't wait even a second before saying "And I love you.". Fundy also got a gift from both of them actually.

•At first Q was really hesitant about fireworks and even banned them in Las Nevadas because he feared that this may trigger Schlatt. But...the ram hybrid reassured him that everything is fine and that he is alright. Especially if Quackity is by his side.

•The last few minutes of the evening, before the clock showed 00:00, they spend in each others arms, curled in a big blanket, on the couch. Fundy would sit on the other end of the couch, holding his sleeping son, not holding back the gentle smile. Schlatt would leave a trail of kisses all over Quackitys face, making him laugh and blush. Something that the president wants to hear and see more often because this is a reminder that his duckling is happy. He is making him happy. And this is all that matters.

If I did get something wrong about Mexican celebration, please let me know <3

Hope you all will have a pleasant Christmas and if not...well....we are in this together, my dear. Next year will get better, hopefully.

#dream smp #dsmp #jschlatt #schlatt #quackity #schlackity #pumpkinduo #pumpkin husbands #fundy #its fundy #yogurt #headcanons #headcanon #earlie Christmas #christmas

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zeldasayer · 4 years

Text

Futile Devices — Chapter 5

A Javier Peña/Call Me By Your Name AU

gif by @pascalplease

Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Everything has changed since your father’s book with Javier was rejected, just as you and Javier were getting close.

Warnings: SMUT — age gap (reader is of age), inexperienced!reader themes, gagging, praise (use of “little girl”), vocal Javi, squirting. Angst. 18+

Masterlist | Chapter 4

——

Vita Murphy was born on April 9th 1963 in Milan, Italy to American architects Connie and Steve Murphy, who met your mother by chance one afternoon at a market in town. Taking a liking to Connie, Daisy invited her and her husband to one of their legendary parties. Your mother and father loved to entertain and invite interesting people into their home for cocktails and Daisy's delicious cooking. Your parents celebrated every holiday, birthday, or life event they could think of, any excuse to dress up, string lights through the fruit trees in the back yard and drink in excess to your father's extensive record collection. As a child, you missed most of the parties, having been put to bed just as they were taking off, but when Connie and Steve arrived to your mother's 35th birthday after meeting in the market, and saw you sitting alone at your piano, Connie knew that next time she would bring her daughter.

Even at 13 you felt the pull that Vita had. You watched as she floated around your home, seeming even more comfortable in it than you were, stealing sips of wine and hors d'oeuvres before noticing you and asking if you had ever had your tarot cards read.

"It's my favourite game." You spat out nervously unaware.

Vita just smiled with a nod, "Yeah. Mine, too."

And from then on, you were inseparable.

"She didn't cry, she sang!" Connie always said about her daughter's birth. "It was the happiest day of my life."

Made in her mother's stunning image, Vita had the most incredible large eyes and long blonde hair she cut only once a year. Connie knew at a young age that her daughter was special, as a believer in the universe and the infinite lives a person could have, she knew her daughter was an old soul put on Earth to love and protect the new souls, the tired souls, those who were born somewhere and didn't know why they were born there. She knew it would be quite the burden for one girl, but she saw it quickly in her daughter that it was what she was meant to do. A healer, a listener, someone who understood what many feared no one ever could. Vita attracted those who needed her, and in that, unfortunately led to a large turnover in friendships. Vita was used to strong, short bursts of complete female unity, where she loved you undyingly and provided the support that you needed to pass through a difficult period of your life. But not with you, there was no passing through with you. Not even during your extended stays in the United States or even now that you are gone most of the year in college, could your friendship be weakened.

"It's because you were siblings!" Connie exclaimed in a tipsy state on a summer night long ago. "In another life."

"Do you think?" Vita asked, turning to you.

You believed in Vita and her mother's cosmic knowing, and relied on it more than you were willing to admit. "Of course."

"You were brother and sister." Connie said before taking a sip of her wine, and going quiet.

She always goes quiet — one moment she will tell you how your whole life is going to be and the next, just as she's about to get into the details, she switches off without any explanation, claiming she "doesn't really know this stuff, anyway."

It always makes Vita roll her eyes, because she knows that's not the case for she is just like her mother. Vita saw everything and found people she couldn't read extremely frustrating. Vita has this otherworldly understanding of people and a patience unmatched by anyone you have ever met. She knows how devastating it can be to be seen, but how crucial in life it is to not only be understood, but accepted. Vita also knew how often you spent up in your head, in your make believe world where nothing could hurt you. How your lust for life was so consuming it left you unable to move, too afraid to start because it always felt like you were doing it on your own. Your best friend once told you with tears in her eyes that she wished she knew what planet you were from so you would have the peace of mind that you weren’t completely alone, and you thanked her because sometimes that is enough.

Vita is the human embodiment of home.

So why can't you tell her what is going on? Why does your throat close up every time you want to talk about Javier in any capacity? Why does your throat close up when you think about Javier at all? A part of you wants to run barefoot straight to Vita’s house and up to her room, beg her to help you understand your own emotions. Why are you so enamored by a man who always makes it so hard to breathe? How he manages to make you so hyper aware of your movements, yet he isn't even looking at you. How he's never there when you want him but you would drop everything to be close to him once more. You would drop everything just to be what he wanted again and it makes you sick to your stomach. It's like watching yourself at 15 all over again, when you believed the most important thing you could be was desired. Hell is the mind of a fifteen year old girl, and you thought those days were gone forever.

The tension in the house doesn't make it any easier. You and Daisy tiptoeing around your father and house guest. The quiet meals, that used to be your favourite parts of the day now leave you cold even in the relentless summer sun. You spend most of the time, sitting across from Javier, staring at him. Waiting for him to look at you so you can ask him what's wrong with your eyes. To let him know that he can come to you, that you want him to. But he never does.

Christian and Javier lock themselves away in the library most days and your mother tells you they still haven't come up with anything new. You're startled every night when you're woken by their raised voices traveling through the halls and you hold your breath until you hear their roaring laughter and you know they must be drunk.

You don't see Javier much these days, but you don't see anyone for that matter. Resorting to lazy floats in the pool by yourself or reading alone in the cool living room to escape the heat. It feels as though, if you can't be around Javier you can’t be around anyone at all and sometimes you can make that make sense but most of the time you ignore the irritating notion that you may really be going crazy.

But what was supposed to happen? Javier would fuck you and realize right then and there he couldn’t live without you? It’s so embarrassing because it’s true. You can't talk to Vita because you're embarrassed to admit you wanted to be more and tonight after another lonely dinner where you might as well have been eating alone — you dumped your dishes in the sink and slipped out to the back gardens for your abandoned childhood swing set. And you finally cried.

“Fuck!” You scream up at the sky and you kick your legs back.

As you create your momentum, swinging back and forth you can’t help but succumb to your own erratic emotions and you wonder why it has to be this way. Why can’t you just be happy with what you have? Why must you always need more? Why is it so goddamn exhausting to keep yourself neutral? You’ve never felt sad, only despair. Never angry, only full of rage. You’ve never been embarrassed, you only know humiliation. And you hate to think this way because you always search for your brain for a time you were truly happy, but you always come up empty.

Something is always missing. Something is always missing and you’re always alone but you can’t even be upset because you do it to yourself.

It feels like you’re taking the world on by yourself simply because you are. Because you feel like you need to, this is your burden and yours only. You must suffer to be rewarded for one day you will be able to walk in the sun and be alright.

But to what end? When will you be rewarded?

You want it to be Javier. Just being close to him feels like the reward. The energy you feel just sitting next to him, those eyes you want to swim in, the perfect angle of his nose and the voice that drips from his lips. It must be him, but he won’t even talk to you.

You spend the evening locked in this thought, the concept of the reward — you can convince yourself it isn't real but your heart aches for it knows it is the truth. Which is why Javier is so difficult. He is the one and it makes you dizzy with excitement, but you’re not sure if you can trust it. There is this pull of doubt at the corners of every thought because he still doesn’t know you. Though he could. If he just said the word, you’d spill every story, every thought, every idea you’ve ever had. How you long for more. More life. More love. More sex. More understanding. To truly be alive, not just living. Who could understand that better then him?

——

You like the way the cold ground feels under your bare feet as you walk back up to the house in the darkness. You feel lighter, now that you’ve cried and the house that sits quiet and empty is suddenly comforting. This is your life, your home. Javier is just a tourist and he should be so lucky to exist in the same space as you. But maybe this is you just channeling arrogance as to not be so sad, focusing on what he’s missing instead of your desperate need for him to actually see it.

“Claude?” You hear from the living room at the first creak of the wooden stairs.

You tiptoe through the corridor and into the living room to find Javier taming his fluffy hair with a yawn. Your jaw tightens.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I fell asleep.” He says and you just stand there, crossing your arms over your light blue summer dress. “Can you come sit?”

Shit.

“I don’t know Javi, I’m tired.” You shrug.

“Look, I just want to apologize.” He says, standing up and turning toward you, “We had sex and I haven’t spoken to you since and that’s fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen, but he doesn’t see because he looks down like he’s ashamed. You believe him. Gliding across the living room, you watch him in his usual ensemble — tight black t-shirt, soft cotton pants and his thick black framed glasses, and sit back down with him, on your side.

“It’s just everything with this book, I’ve never felt this kind of anxiety.” He says, his eyes cast down, resting his head on his fist propped up by the top of the couch.

You nod for you understand, but it hurt. “You didn’t even look at me this week.”

“I know.” He sighs, “I know, but I really am sorry. Please believe me when I say I’ve missed you.”

You look up at him, biting your cheek to contain your excitement.

“I miss you even while we live in the same house.” He says, looking away. His hand fidgets against his knee. “If you’re not at breakfast, or you spend your day here, reading in the living— I miss you when you aren’t around me.”

You wish there was a way to burn these words into your brain so you could have them at any time, to hear his voice say these things to you. This validation that he has felt the same after these long, horrible days of practically ignoring each other.

Bringing your hand to his cheek, you turn Javier’s gaze back to you, and study him as you feel the fine hairs of his beard under your fingertips. He looks tired, even behind his glasses you can see the deep longing for rest in his eyes. You don’t think he’s used to rejection either.

Javier leans into your touch with a soft hum and you could almost lose your breath from the tenderness. You want to hold him, bury your nose in his hair and tell him to rest with you. Just laying together, his big body between your legs and head on your stomach, until the inevitable rising of the sun. You can hardly bring yourself to imagine how beautiful Javi must look by the light of the morning.

“Come here.” You whisper, though it’s barely audible, as you rise up on your knees so you are flush against his side, looking down at him. Before you kiss him, Javier kisses you, and your hand floats down from his cheek to wrap your arms around his glorious neck.

Javi wastes no time, his one big hand dragging up your spine to squeeze the back of your neck, holding your against him. And with the other, letting his thick fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass. You can feel the desperation in his skin, and you want all of it, this exquisite juxtaposition of feeling both safe in his arms but that he could also crush you with his desire.

What was life before this? Before Javier’s thick moans into your mouth, his heavy wet finger tips tracing. He takes up all the air in the room and you don’t stop him. He is everything.

You break off the kiss for a moment and remove his glasses. “I missed you too.”

“I’ve only touched you once, but I have spent every day thinking about you. Kissing you. Having you.” He says, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “It’s all I’ve wanted, every day.”

“Why didn’t you tell me.” You ask, and you can’t help the confused look on your face but Javier doesn’t respond. You search his face anyway longing for something heartfelt, like he was locked up in his head, consumed by his feelings for you, like you were. Instead, he kisses you again. Swallowing any upsetting feeling you’ve had since you’ve touched him last.

Kissing Javier is a soft pleasure all in its own, but you want more. More skin. More contact. To ache around him again. To show him how much you truly missed him.

“Let me take care of you.” You whisper, your palm trailing flat down the man’s chest. You get lower and lower, kissing along the beautiful exposed skin of his neck, dragging your hand down the soft black fabric until you reach the drawstring of Javi’s pants.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and you feel his body stiffen as he looks around.

You nod, pushing your legs out from underneath you so you’re laying flat on the couch, your face practically in his lap. “Just relax.”

Javier lets all the air escape from his chest as you pull on the pants and he lifts his hips so you can get them down his thighs.

He watches you with heavy eyes, his mouth falling open as you kiss up the underside of his length, hardening under your lips. Swirling your tongue around the tip, you rest your head on Javier’s lower abdomen lazily, feeling him grow even more in your hand as you stroke him.

“Shit..” He says through his teeth, smoothing your hair back out of your face for you.

You continue to take your time teasing him. Humming in delight as Javier can barely contain himself, thrusting up into your hand shamelessly. He keeps his eyes closed, hands in your hair and you can feel the relief radiating from him. He was desperate for touch.

“Oh, Javi.” You coo, as his head falls back on to the couch, fucking up into your hand and you swear you can hear him whimper. This feeling of power over Javier is absolutely intoxicating, to feel so disconnected from him all week then to have him almost pathetically trying to relieve himself with any bit of human contact you’ll allow him.

“Look what you do to me.” He growls. “Fucking your ha-and...”

Javier reaches around, taking his length from your delicate grasp and pushes you lightly into his pelvis.

“You’re so fucking — soft.” He grunts, tapping his throbbing head against your lips before dragging his cock along your face.

You smile, letting him. Revealing your tongue for a moment to tease him once more.

“Thought you wanted to take care of me.” He says, his voice tight and you feel his hand in the back of your hair as he continues to run his length along your face. Grinning as his grip tightens, he doesn’t hurt you, it’s just about the control.

“I do.” You moan, as Javi softly pushes and pulls your head in a rhythmic motion, just hovering over him.

“Open your mouth.” He mumbles and you do what you’re told.

Javier motions your neck down, pulling you slowly over him, taking just his head in your mouth. “Is this okay sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” You whimper around him, your thighs involuntarily rubbing together, searching for some kind of relief from the arousing pull of his voice.

“Yeah? F-Fuck your pretty mouth.” He grunts, thrusting up slowly, stretching your lips to accommodate his thickness. You close your eyes, focusing on the fullness, calming your breath to take him.

“Stay just like this.” Javier sighs, his other hand tangling into your hair to keep you in place and you hum in agreement. Then he thrusts — quickly like he’s actually fucking you and it comes as a surprise but the moan that drips from his mouth almost instantly is enough to make you squeeze your thighs tighter. You have never felt a high like this, being exactly what Javier wants.

You dig your finger nails into his thighs as he takes you, a blunt, bruising force to the back of the throat and you can’t help but gag.

“That’s a good girl.” He says, “Taking my dick in your hot fucking mouth. I love that sound.”

You gag once more and Javier pulls out to you gasping. Spit suspended from your mouth to his cock and you watch it for a moment before grinning up at Javi.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wiping the saliva from your mouth.

“I’ve never done that before.” You smile, looking down slightly embarrassed as you wonder if you were even any good.

“You keep saying that...” Javi’s voice trails off as he pulls your dress up to knead your behind. You love having his hands on you, playing with you. “But you’d never know...”

You try to suppress your satisfied smile, flattening your palms around the base of Javier’s shaft, you take him back in your mouth.

“Fuck...” he exhales long and slow, grabbing a rough handful of your ass before pushing you down on to him, taking him completely down your throat and keeps you there. Your eyes water, and your leg kicks out before he lets you breathe again, coming up for air with a cough you look up at him and he looks down at you like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

——

Javier pulls you back up against his side, and he looks up at you as he’s slumped down into the couch. You wrap your arms back around his neck, fluttering your fingers through his hair and he nuzzles your chest, pressing his lips into your skin. You wish he was like this always, soft in your arms.

Javi hooks a finger into the top of your dress and pulls down, freeing your breasts, nipples hard in attention and he takes one in his mouth. Your cradle his head as he sucks on the buds and you let your own fall back slowly, relishing in the feeling of his tongue and his lips, the brushing of his moustache and the digging of his nose and how sweet he looks in your arms. This is too much, you’re going dizzy.

Javier helps you pull your dress over his head and his lips quickly return to your nipples. His big warm hands squeezing your bust harshly, alternating with his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh and completely pressing his face into your chest. Even as you climb into his lap, on top of him completely nude, his tongue doesn’t give up until you pull his face up to yours for a kiss.

He tastes like everything you want to drown in and it’s heady, like a force you must fight before it completely consumes you, but you don’t want to.

“Fuck.” You gasp, grinding your hips along Javi’s length, desperate for more.

“Oh, god.” He chokes, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Are you going to fuck me this time, sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” You whine, reaching between your bodies.

“Yeah? You’re gonna bounce that wet little pussy on my dick?” His voice shakes into your neck, and it’s such a contrast from his stern “Get on your bed.” from days ago.

You nod, kissing up his jaw in this sudden codependency, his need to feel every inch of you as you both fall back into the couch.

“Relax, Javi. Let me do this for you.” You coo, sinking down on to him. You hum from the incredible stretch and Javier groans right into your ear.

“That pussy is so fucking tight.” He says, out of breath. “Don’t move.”

You obey him, stilling in his lap and Javier lifts his head from the safe space between your neck and your shoulder and he looks up at you.

“What if I just held you here like this.” He says, almost to himself, his hands coming up to your ass. “Stuffed full of my dick and I didn’t let you move.”

“Javi...” You whine.

“Would you still be my good little girl?”

“Javi...” You whine louder, your chest feeling like it’s going to collapse, Javier’s fingers digging into you and he gives you two small thrusts.

“You love being my good girl, don’t you?” Javier whispers, pushing your hair behind your shoulders.

More than anything.

“Yes.” You gasp.

“I know you do.” He says, guiding you slowly up and down. “Just sucking my dick made this pussy a dripping mess.”

“I love it.” You groan as the sound of your skin against his gets louder as you work your hips for him.

Javier looks a moment away from possession and it just fuels you, for you have him where you always want him and you want this to be the death of him.

You still again, but only for a moment to steady yourself as you get up on your feet.

“Shit..” Javier sighs, before he turns you both with your arms wrapped around him, his back now against the arm rest and his legs straight out along the couch. “There you go, baby.”

You reach behind you, finding your balance with your grip on his knees and you pull your hips up.

“Oh my fucking god.” Javier gasps, running his hand down his face and you push your hips down slowly, watching him and in this moment he is really yours.

Fighting through the burning in your arms and your legs, you give him everything you’ve got. Mewing in the pleasure of seeing him underneath you like this, needing you like this. Submitting to the grinding of your hips and the wetness that aches around him. You wish you could see yourself on top of him, your chest bouncing, skin glowing in sweat so he knows exactly what he could have, whenever he wanted it.

“Your pussy is so fucking pretty.” Javier says, his thumb dragging across your mound and down to your clit, that is begging for attention and the moment his fingertip grazes the sensitive nerve your legs clamp together. But he doesn’t stop. Even as his length falls from your body from the increased height of your hips, Javier’s hand doesn’t retreat from the soft thighs it’s wedged between. Circling your clit over and over, your arms buckle and you hold your breath. You thought you had the power but even on top of him you’re just putty in his hand and he knows exactly what to do to make you sing.

“Are you going to squirt for me again?” He rasps, his other hand pushing you down into his lap. “I want to watch this pretty little pussy squirt all over me.”

“Put it back.” You gasp, trying to force your legs open.

“Yeah, baby? Do you need my dick?” Javi teases, pushing at your thigh to open up for him again. He finally eases his dizzying pressure on your clit and holds you just above his pulsing head, slick with you. Running his tip along your folds, you try to sink down on to him, but he keeps you suspended.

“Beg me.” He demands. “You know I love the way you say my fucking name.”

“Please, Javi.” You whine, grinding your hips into nothing. “Please, I love your cock so much, give it to me.”

You push yourself up and fall forward so your hands are on his chest, “Please, Javi. Make me squirt again. Only you know how to fucking do it”

“Oh, fuck.” He groans, pushing up into you sharply despite your yelp. “Anything for my good little girl.”

Javier pulls you down, flush against his chest, still clothed against your’s nude and he wraps his arms around you. He smells like amber and fresh linens as always. Summer. A sunset. The breeze off the ocean and wine. Safe.

His grip around you tightens as you inhale him, pounding up into you as he finds your ear, and his voice is like syrup, “I’m going to take care of you sweetheart. Going to make this pussy cum. You tell me okay? I want to see it. Want to see you fucking soak me. Don’t by shy, my good little girl. Give it to me.”

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You’re so fucking incredible. Taking my big dick in this perfect little pussy. Let go, Claude. Cum for me, angel.”

You groan lewdly and Javi’s hand comes down on your mouth.

“Shh. Shh. Shh.” He warns, and you sigh into his palm. Angel.

This pace is overwhelming, and as he’s restricted your limbs there really is nothing you can do but take it, trying to keep your thighs from clamping together every time Javier brushes that incredible spot within you. Your moans getting longer, from an even deeper part of your throat every time. Your core twists and tightens as he brings you there, unlike anyone else ever has.

“Javi, now!” You exclaim, barely recognizing the screech in your voice and Javier pulls out. His lap wet with you.

“Oh that’s a good fucking girl.” He says, kissing the top of your head as you fall to his side. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your house guest’s impressive length twitches in his hand as he strokes himself, his nose buried in your hair as you nuzzle his chest in hazy delight and he keeps whispering, “Fucking you is such a dream. You make it so hard not to just nut in that tight fucking pussy.”

You hum, lifting our head up and kissing him softly. “Cum for me.”

“Yeah?” He swallows.

“Please, Javi.” You sigh.

“Where?” He asks, stroking himself harder.

It takes all your strength, but you slip silently off the couch and on to your knees. “On my face.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He says, getting up quickly.

Javier takes your chin delicately in his hand, stroking himself with vigor with the other, and you display your tongue for him, feeling the weight of his cock on it instantly.

“Such a good girl, letting me cum on your pretty fucking face like this. I don’t deserve you. So fucking— pretty.” He groans, with everything left and in this moment you have him, again.

——

You wake in your bed, and you know it’s late because you’re hit by a wall of heat followed swiftly by disappointment when you realize you are, once again, alone. With your arm spread out at your side, you know you are going to be met with nothing but empty sheets and you still feel it at the pit of your stomach anyway.

You sit up with a sigh, back to normal you suppose. Another day of existing separately, but together with only your lost puppy sense of self and a fascination for this man to sustain you.

Then you see him. Javier leaning up against your balcony door with his coffee, wearing only his pyjama bottoms. He hears you stirring and looks back with a smile, “Good morning.”

——

Tags: @pascalisperfect @thefinalgurl @we-are-like-a-timebomb @ssppoorrkk @headsindreams @kehrite @nerdyknightwritersblog @tangledlove27 @chipotle-pour-moi @jokersdoll @zea-is-amazing @someplace-darker @kaylaylaylayla @spacenerdsebby @forever-rogue @fionnthebandersnacc @colourmeinblue @longitud-de-onda @dogsinspace @spitmillk @staellula @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @leo-moon @mandoandyodito @bonkybaaarnes @sadthotsonlylove @ah-callie @astrolo-galaxy @lockedoutofmyotherblog @hayley-the-comet @boybalm @casjason @mrsparknuts @blushingwueen @ignimbritetcax @benakenalove @fioccodineveautunnale @exrebelshocktrooper @pascalisthepunkest @sav-a-nna @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @solarwars @cumberbitching @rae-gar-targaryen @tabalugax @lokiaddicted @roxypeanut @ezraslittlebirdie @thisainttheway @none-of-your-bullshit @mand0-l0rian @assaultsofthought

Love, Zelda

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #au #call me by your name #cmbyn fic #cmbyn aesthetic #narcos

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lifes-better-on-saturn · 4 years

Text

Chris Evans Drabble

Chris x Australian Reader

taking her to her first NFL American Football game.

You pulled up to the stadium pulling on the Patriots beanie you stole from Chris.

Opening your door for you he put his hand out for you to get out of the car.

It was your first time going to an American Football game. Being Australian you’d never seen one and only ever watched AFL, so you didn’t really understand the American game. But with Chris being such a big supporter you often were sat on the couch while he yelled at the Television. Kind of reminded you of the nights you’d watched the footy with your dad and uncle.

Snapping out of you smiled at Chris as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“Ready baby? It’s a bit different from what your used to.” He smiled as you wrapped your own arm around his waist since you were so much smaller than him.

“Ready as i’ll ever be.” Pressing a kiss to your head you continued on into the venue.

Before long Scott had caught up with you guys, giving your cheek a quick kiss and Chris and hug.

You found your seats and sat until the teams came out.

As they jogged onto the field you watched as the people around cheered and screamed for the teams and their favourite players.

After Chris had calmed down he looked to you and smiled at your confused expression.

“What’s up, babe?”

“I jus’ don’t get why their wearing so much? wouldn’t they get hot? It’s so much protection, it’d make the game so much harder!?” Your little outburst made him laugh.

“They need to be protected so they don’t get hurt, darlin’. They run into each other like every 5 minutes.” He laughs as you roll your eyes playfully.

“Well back home, they wear singlets and shorts the occasional long sleeve and they tackle and take speckies, like nothin’ else. Then end up in piles on each other in just that. Makes no sense to me to wear that much. It’s unnecessary.” You explained and laughed at Scott and Chris’s confused faces.

“What?”

“The fuck is a speckie??” Scott scoffs at the odd word. You laugh before explaining that it’s when someone basically runs and jumps up and off someone’s back to get the ball.

“Wouldn’t that hurt?? Don’t they have the cleats with the studs underneath!?” He exclaims.

“Well yeah but they don’t need protection against it. Too bulky.” You shake your head as you turn to look at the field again.

Without your knowledge the boys exchanged and weird look shrugging in confusing deciding to drop and ask later.

You were about three and a half quarters through the game and they’d started over about 100 times. You were pretty sure that the Patriots were winning but with your very next to no knowledge about the game you had no clue how that shits worked. This game genuinely made no sense.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to when you were a child and your parents would throw grand final parties where family and friends would show up have a few drinks and watch the game, often ended with most of the adults getting wasted and the kids falling asleep on the couch together. The AFL Grand Final was a big deal in Australia. The two best teams of that season play against each other and whoever wins, wins the premier. This happens every year. There’s even a public holiday where everyone gets a day off for it.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Chris and Scott jumped up in celebration. You’d been thinking so long you didn’t realise that the game was coming to an end and the Patriots had won by a long shot. You stood up in your seat to celebrate with the boys when Chris picked you up and spun your around, pressing a hard kiss to your lips.

“We won baby!!! We won!! Did you see that!! Woo!!” You smiled seeing your man so happy.

After he had placed you on the ground it was Scott’s turn to wrap his arms around you and scream in your ear. Laughing you let out a victorious yell as well even though you had no clue what had happened.

Chris was clearly on a winning high all the way home and even while you got dinner sorted. Blabbering about how great that game was and used a heap of football terms you’ve never heard.

While the sausages sizzled away your turned around a wrapped your arms around his neck as he leant against the bench.

Your stared at him while he finished up his speech. Looking down at you he caught your lips in a sensual kiss.

“You good?” He laughed as you continued to admire his gorgeous messy hat hair and light beard.

“Yeah just admiring you.” You both laughed before sharing one last kiss.

“What you cooking.” He asked as he moved over to examine the stove.

“Well I couldn’t stop thinking about home, I decided to make a classic aussie dinner, Bangers and Mash.”

He smiled at the weird name for sausages and mashed potatoes drowned in gravy.

He moved back over to you resting his hands on your hips lifting you up onto the counter as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Did you enjoy the game today??” He asked. You flashed him a smile before nodding.

“Yeah, it was weird but in a good way. It was different to what i’m used to.” He nodded lightly before leaning back in to connect your lips in a slow sensual kiss.

“Would ever consider coming to another? Maybe in a few weeks?” He smiled. Smiling back you nodded before he pulled you into another kiss. Before you could comprehend you were being picked up and twirled around.

“We won baby!” You threw your head back laughing before being placed back on the ground. You both laughed while dancing in celebration.

“I have an idea.” You pulled him into you as he looked down on you. “Yes?”

“Celebration sex?” You tilted your head in thought. Smirking he turned to turn the stove off before he grabbed you by the ass and kissed you roughly pulling you to the bedroom.

AN- was going thru all my half started works and found this. just a cute little drabble thing. loosely based off myself and my thoughts and lack of under of the NFL. Hope it’s ok :)

#chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans smut #ransom drysdale #smut #fluff #knives out

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

The Acceptance

This is my submission for @darkmcuficswap @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Holiday swap! My giftee is @opheliadawnwalker3. I hope you enjoy hun!

Summary: After a holiday gone terribly wrong you face a decision with the new year.

Holiday: New Year's/Halloween

Warnings: Non Con (PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS OFFENDS YOU), SMUT, kidnapping, alcohol.

****I have chosen not to warn for everything, please READ AT OWN RISK****

Words: 4000

Pairing: Stucky x reader

December 31st

The snow captivated you, tiny white flakes drifting down, landing without fear on the cold ground. You pinched your eyes shut and bit your lip, wishing you were one of them, free to fall away from this place.

A knock sounded on the door, but you didn’t turn away from the window. The wood opened, the knock only a formality, you had no privacy anymore. Not here. Not with them.

“I brought you something special to wear tonight.” Steve’s voice used to sound like nails on a chalkboard, you missed those days when you would claw at him, scream, try to find a weapon. The fight in you was burning out with the end of the year. “I hope you’ll wear your makeup and hair to fit the look.”

There was a warning in his voice. You dropped your chin in a nod. He approached you from behind, but you didn’t tense as his hands touched your shoulders.

“Good girl.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “If you behave we can have a lot of fun tonight. All of us. I promise Doll.”

“If...if I’m good enough will you let me go?” You turned and looked at Steve with hope that dashed away as soon as you saw the anger in his eyes. “To the pool tomorrow? I want to swim some laps.”

A smile crept on Steve’s face. You used to think of him as a symbol of American pride and righteousness, but now all you could see was the wickedness he hid.

“I think your muscles will be plenty sore after tonight.” He dropped his hands to your waist and pulled you closer. “That was a nice attempt at covering the question though, but you know I can’t let that go unpunished. Would you like to learn your lesson now or ruin our festivities later?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Tears spilled as you buried your head into his chest. “Please, let’s have a good night. I’ll be good I promise.”

“Shhhh.” Steve rubbed your back as you fisted his shirt, terrified of what he had in mind. You felt his cock harden underneath his jeans, pressing to your stomach with the hug. “No punishment, but make it up to me right now?”

Steve’s hands slid up your shoulders and he applied a bit of pressure. You nodded your head and locked eyes with him as you dropped to your knees.

He pulled his cock out and you wasted no time taking him into your mouth, flicking your tongue as you gathered saliva to take him deeper.

“There is no leaving here Doll.” Steve’s fist found your hair as he started to work with your movements. “And certainly not for good behavior. I thought you were starting to understand?”

He let out a grunt and you worked his cock faster, reaching between his legs to fondle his balls as his pants slipped down his thighs.

“You are so good. You are the best. Even when you’re bad, you’re too much fun to ever let go.” Steve pushed your head down hard and you fought off the gag. “I bet you’re soaked right now, sucking my cock this way. Just a pool between your legs? Once you stop fighting that and admit how happy you are, instead of asking for a swim asking me to fuck you? Then you might get permission to go, but you’ll never leave because by then you will realize this is where you belong.”

You squeezed your legs together and hated it that he was right. You were dripping. You looked up at him with begging eyes. He nodded and you wrapped your body around his leg, straddling his shin you began to hump him while you continued sucking, taking him deeper and keeping pace with your mouth.

“Fucking beautiful Doll.” Steve bit his lip. “Speed up because I’m going to finish.”

You started to pant as you ground against him, trying to give your clit the pressure and action it needed to send you over the edge while drool ran down your chin. You pressed your tongue hard on the underside of his cock, taking him in with deep strokes.

Your eyes pinched shut, but his hand grabbed your face and you popped them open. Never look away when you cum. He glared at you with the intensity only he had and you exploded around his legs, bits of pleasure making you shake as your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest.

Steve let out a moan and his dick expanded in your mouth before his seed shot to the back of your throat. You flicked your tongue and sucked in your cheeks, knowing better than to let a drop spill.

“Fuck Doll.” Steve pulled out and tucked himself a way. “You are amazing.”

He lifted his leg and you cringed, all too aware of the wet spot on his jeans.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m going to dress nicer tonight anyway.” He kissed the top of your head. “Be ready in three hours.”

You slumped on the floor as he left the room. Your naked body recovering from the orgasm, almost upset it wasn’t more intense. You liked it better when it came from a cock. Your thoughts made you cringe.

You were so used to being naked all the time it didn’t even register any more, and the thought about liking the more intense orgasms?

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” You looked back out to the snow, wondering if you could piece together where it had all gone wrong.

July

“I hate New York.” You plopped down on the park bench next to your friend and pulled out your sandwich. “I’m leaving the city as soon as I can.”

“You’ve only been here six months.” She laughed and handed you a pop. “And you met me right? There’s something positive.”

“I know.” You gave a frown. “I just thought I would get lost in a sea of people, maybe discover myself, but what I’m discovering is I hate crowds, I don’t like my job, and I always feel like someone is watching me.”

“Like a guardian angel?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Like someone is going to jump out of the bushes and grab me. I miss small town middle of nowhere life. Not cut out for the city.”

“Don’t give up yet.” She touched your arm. A loud SNAP came from the treeline and both of your heads whipped in that direction. “Jesus.”

She started to laugh first and then you joined in.

“Come over tonight. We can find you a new job, it’s the land of opportunity.”

“Alright.” You agreed mainly because you didn’t want to be alone.

Your friend continued chatting but your eye’s couldn’t stop looking toward the bushes.

August

“I love New York.” You grinned as you sat down next to your friend.

“You got the job?” She beamed at you.

“I have no idea how or why, but yes. You’re looking at the newest employee of Stark Enterprises.” You kicked your knees up and punched the air. “I mean, it’s a work from home gig, I have no office at the towers, I’m not going to meet the Avengers or anything, but the pay is good and the benefits are nice. Maybe in a few months I’ll have enough to live in a safer neighborhood.”

“Still getting stalker vibes?”

“Big time. I swear I felt someone breathing on my neck the other night.” You touched the spot. “I about sprinted home, but now I’ll never have to leave my apartment.”

“I’m glad you’re calling it home.” She gave you a nudge. “And you will have to leave your apartment! How else are you going to see me? Let’s go out tonight and celebrate.”

“Okay.” You smiled.

“Wow, you must be in a good mood, I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten you out after dark. I was starting to think you were a vampire.”

“I’m a morning person. No clubs, no bars, no crowds, maybe a nice dinner?” You shrugged.

“How are you ever going to meet someone if you don’t do anything social?” She sighed at you. “We’re going to a club. Look nice. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

You wanted to object, but you rolled your eyes. Knowing nothing could make you turn her down. A rock came out of nowhere and hit a pole ten feet from you, the clang making both of you jump.

“Weird.” You scanned the treeline but didn’t notice anything but the wind shaking a few bushes.

“I’m going to call my friend Jonathan. He will have a hot place to go.” Your friend was oblivious to the strange happening.

The club was loud and you felt underdressed. You watched your friend dance away with a stranger and admired her courage, she looked stunning and you looked like you blended in with the wall.

“Can I buy you a drink?” A voice yelled in your ear.

You turned to see a decent looking man, nothing too special, but nothing threatening.

“I’m good.” You shook the full drink in your hand.

“Bartender, two shots or your strongest stuff.” The guy held up his fingers.

“I really, I don’t take shots with strangers. Thank you though.” You started to walk away but he reached out and grabbed your arm.

“Come on, don’t be lame.” The liquid was being poured into the glasses and your stomach turned at the sight. “Take a drink with me.”

Your heart rate went through the roof. You hated saying no almost as much as you hated being grabbed. Your lips parted as you tried to think about how to respond. The internal struggle of obedience mixed with the anger about his hand on you.

Before you could respond the man dropped away. Someone stepped into the middle of you and pushed the man.

“The lady said no.” Was all you could make out over the roar of the club.

The first guy tried to punch the second, but he grabbed his fist and crumbled it. You looked at the scene in horror, clutching your purse.

Violence, alcohol, music, your head began to spin. You turned and walked outside, feeling a panic coming on. The heat of the evening hit your face and you climbed into the nearest taxi, texting your friend as you got a ride home, vowing never to test the New York nightlife again.

September

“We’re going to have to stop having lunch on park benches soon.” You patted the puffer vest you were wearing.

“About that,” she took a deep breath. “I didn’t know how to break it to you, but we’re going to have to stop having lunches altogether.”

“What?” Your eyes went wide. “You’re joking right? You’re like my only friend in the world.”

“Out of the blue, a recruiter offered me this dream position.” She turned and grabbed your hands. “The pay is amazing and that’s not even the best part, it’s like the job was tailor made for me, but it’s in Paris.”

“Paris?!?!” Your jaw dropped.

“We can facetime and you can visit?” She was having a hard time hiding the glee that matched the despair you were feeling.

“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.” You smiled, not wanting to ruin her moment, hating New York again.

October 31

You taped shut the last of the moving boxes. It was sad seeing your entire life packed up, unable to notice how small the stack was. All the furniture came with the apartment, you weren’t much of a shopper and never got around to getting that cat.

Your phone rang and you recognized your boss’s phone number, picking up right away.

“Hello, Mr. Jones, I’m all packed up.” You set the last box down.

“Good, good. The moving van will be there tomorrow early, we’re looking forward to you joining our team.” His voice sounded oddly familiar, but you kept brushing it off. “And you’re still coming to the party tonight?”

“About that.” You hit your laptop’s button and saw the invitation. “I’m really not much of a party person, and I never got around to getting a costume.”

“I was clear when I offered you the promotion. We’re a small R&D team, we work very closely. It is important you bond with us. People are expecting you, costume and all.” His tone was almost scolding.

“Well, we’re going to be living together. I’m sure there’s plenty of time. I’d rather get settled first.” You almost turned the promotion down because of that fact, but then you looked into Stark Corp’s R&D, a team of 100 people who worked around the clock, if you put in a year there you were golden. It was impossible to turn down even if it did involve living in some town upstate.

“The car is picking you up in an hour. You will be here in five. If you don’t have a costume, then dress nice. People are looking forward to meeting you.” He paused. “I am looking forward to having you.”

“Alright.” You told yourself you heard him wrong before hanging up the phone.

There was something off about the situation. Like you wished you had someone to tell where you were going to stay for the next year. You hadn’t spoken to your friend since the Paris move, and there was really nobody else in your life to tell. The foster parents you hadn’t spoken to in years? The ex who broke your heart? The former best friend he slept with? Maybe the crazy old lady down the hall?

With a tap of the keys you pulled up the email from “Tony Stark'' offering you the position. This was a top level fortune 500 company. There was nothing to worry about. You were being paranoid and needed to accept that your dream was coming true.

This car felt too important for you. The driver was friendly, but you ran out of things to say an hour ago. You glanced at your phone, noting that you were getting close. Then you noticed a no service bar in the corner.

“I’ll have to get a new plan.” You tried to call a random number and got nothing. “No service.”

“No, this is a top secret area.” The driver turned and smiled at you. “No service from any provider. Nothing surrounding the house for 10 miles in any direction, even then it's only a few hunting cabins. Most are abandoned. You must be a very special lady to make the team.”

“I don’t know much about the team, only what the website said, and Mr. Jones of course.” You didn’t think of the isolation when you accepted.

“Tony had the area declared a no fly zone by the US Government.” The driver tapped the wheel. “If you look to your left soon you’ll see the fence. It’s impenetrable.”

Tony? The driver must be high up if that was how he referred to Stark. Your thoughts were distracted when you saw the metal and the wiring shine in the distance.

“This place looks like Jurassic Park.” The driver slowed as the gate opened ahead. “I’m starting to think I’ll get kicked out in a week.”

Anxiety flooded you, you weren’t ready for this. You’d worked there what? A few months? You weren’t this smart, what could you contribute?

“Don’t worry, I have it on good authority you’re perfect for the role.” The driver grinned, it was so genuine and infectious you smiled back and your nerves calmed.

“I understand why people call you Happy.” You relaxed. “It fits.”

“So I’ve been told.” He looked back to the road. “I probably won’t see you again, it was a pleasure driving you though. I’m sure Mr. Rogers will take good care of you.”

“Rogers?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever generic name you want to use, Smith, Mason, Miller, Brown. They’ll assign you one too.” Happy shrugged. “You’re a VIP now.”

A wave of stupidity washed over you. It never occurred to you that pseudonyms were being used.

The house started to come into view. You grabbed the headrests and moved forward. It was a mansion, almost a castle. The place was modern, as if it was made with black glass somehow.

“This is bigger than a football stadium.” You had to crane your neck to see up.

“Just a house Miss.” Happy pulled into the drive. “Nothing you can’t handle.”

He put the car in park and winked at you. All your nerves were calmed, this was perfect. Your dream come true. You were picturing a college dorm situation, but one thousand people could live here, let alone one hundred.

“Thank you.” You opened the door to the car as Happy left and went for the trunk.

You started to stand when something fell off your lap, you chuckled to yourself, your nerves being replaced with excitement as you put on the witch’s hat. A simple accessory that turned your black dress into a costume.

There was a warmth growing in you as you walked up the massive steps, taking in the building in the night sky, almost some primal feeling telling you that you were home.

Happy pushed open the door and set your bag down. You followed after, entering a great hall, you were beaming ready to meet your new team, but your smile faded when you saw it was empty.

“Where is everyone?” You looked at the staircases that wound up to either side, the echo of your voice giving you an empty feeling.

“You got her here in one piece?” Mr. Jones’ voice boomed across the bricks.

“As promised.” Happy shrugged.

“And she wore a costume?” A new voice made you look to the other stairwell.

Your brain tried to register the voices with the faces, but the faces took over.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes?” Avengers. Real ones. You kept looking back and forth. “What? How important is this place?”

You didn’t know whether to thank them for all they had done for the world or question whether you deserved to be on this team.

“Now that you’re here Doll, it’s the most important place in the world.” They both arrived at the bottom at the same time.

“My cue to leave, have a nice night gentlemen.” Happy sounded so distant as the door shut behind him.

“I’m, my name is, this is so embarrassing.” You let out a laugh as you brought your hand to your chest. “I didn’t think I would be meeting Avengers.”

They walked toward you, both of them as if they were circling you.

“We know your name Doll.” Captain America reached out and touched your chin.

You backed up and ran into the Winter Soldier.

“We know everything about you.” The brunette’s hands slid down your arms and stopped at your wrists. “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

He placed a kiss on your neck and you started to step forward, but ran right into Captain, who again touched your chin, this time with a little more force.

“What?” You didn’t know what else to say.

“It was getting too difficult to stay away..” Steve pressed his forehead to yours. “Welcome home Love.”

“I’ve…sorry, what?” James’ tongue slid up your neck and you gasped, Steve used the opportunity to slide his own into your mouth.

You were so confused, but reacted on instinct, trying to raise your hands to shove Steve away only to be met with a tighter grip on your wrists by the man behind you.

Steve let out a chuckle while continuing to kiss you as his hands found your breasts. He kneaded them as your brain tried to catch up with your body, his fingers finding your nipples through the material of your dress, you let out a squeal as he gave a pinch.

“Remember, I won the bet.” James’ teeth grazed your neck as Steve stopped the kiss. “She wore a costume.”

Steve scowled as he walked away from you.

“What’s happening?” You tried to fight the fog. “Where am I?”

“You’re home.” Steve walked toward a chair and then sat down, you were too busy watching him you didn’t realize a wrist had been freed until the sound of your zipper going down snapped you back to reality.

Instead of trying to run you attempted to hold the garment up. Anger flashed on Captain America’s eyes as the Winter Soldier tore the entire thing away.

“No clothes. None. I wanted her naked all the time.” Steve reached into his pants and pulled his cock out.

You whimpered at the sight, he was large. Wait what? You were too concentrated on the wrong thing and you didn’t notice your bra sliding down your arms. You started to turn around to shove James away, but he used your motion to flip you over his shoulder and run down the hall.

SMACK! His hand hit with your ass as you bobbed over his shoulder, too shocked to really react. You lifted your head to see the witch hat on the stone floor.

“I’m so proud of you for wearing the costume.” The man dropped you, but before you hit the floor his hand was on your back, laying you down on a fur rug. “But I’ve been proud of you for months. My girl.”

You tried to spin to your stomach and wiggle away, but he placed a cold hand around your neck, not tight but enough to pin you in place as you shoved at his shoulders.

“It’s why I get the honor of fucking you first.” His other hand found your panties and shredded them with ease. “Steve didn’t think you’d listen, but I know what a good girl you are. How perfect. Our good girl.”

“Stop rubbing it in Bucky.” Steve’s voice made you arch your neck to see him sitting in a chair, stroking himself.

A finger ran up your slit and your attention went back to Bucky as you gasped.

“She’s soaked.” He looked up at Steve with a grin.

Everything came flooding down at once and you let out a scream as you renewed your struggles. The men laughed.

“At least give me a show while I tell our new teammate about her position.” Steve dropped to his knees.

Hands were on you as if they had practiced it, James moving to his back so his legs were in front of you while Steve guided you up so you were facing him. The sound of a zipper came again and you felt Bucky’s cock brush against your thighs as Captain America positioned you.

“We like to keep an eye on our people.” Steve spoke as Bucky’s hands grabbed your legs and moved you so your entrance was right about his rigid cock. “And we’ve been watching you for some time now.”

Metal and flesh fingers were on your waist while Steve’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you down. You moaned as Bucky’s thick head slid inside with more ease than you were aware.

Everything was happening too fast. You struggled to breathe, unsure what to focus on: the cock sliding inside of you or the information being displayed.

You pictured the park, the feeling of a stalker, the fight in the club, the dream job, the better job, your friend’s Paris position.

“That’s good Doll.” Steve licked his lips. “That understanding. You knew. You always knew, but you kept inviting us in.”

“She feels so fucking good.” Bucky lifted his ass while you continued to lower on his cock, feeling it hit your cervix you let out a cry. “She was made for us.”

“You craved us, didn’t you?” Steve cupped your face as Bucky began to fuck you. “You knew what this was. Admit it?”

You didn’t understand anything. You knew nothing.

“No, stop that.” Steve pressed his lips to yours while Bucky dug his fingers into your hips, making you bounce on him. “I see the struggle in your eyes. Stop denying the truth.”

You moaned as Bucky began to make your pussy quake, a coil tightening in your stomach.

“Let her struggle.” Bucky groaned as he held you down, rocking his cock back and forth. “We’ll guide her down the right path.”

“I...I...don’t.” You thought you might have been trying to say no, but your body was being taken over, your mind losing control.

“Oh you do Doll.” Steve brought his thumb to your mouth and you parted your lips as he dragged it along your tongue. “You know. You know this is what you need. It’s been almost a year since you came, you don’t even touch yourself.”

Your eyes went wide with that personal information.

“We know everything.” Steve lowered his wet thumb. “Never lie to us, because we know.”

You cried out as he pressed his digit to your clit, rubbing in circles with such pressure as James railed into you.

There was no warning as you came, your body shaking. Your vision blackened, making you collapse against Steve, shivers sending you to another dimension. Bucky bottomed out, joining you, contracting and filling you with his cum.

“Wait.” You didn’t lift your head, too lost for such a simple task. You didn’t get what was happening, but you knew one thing for sure. “I’m not on birth control.”

“Oh yes you are.” Bucky hit your ass with a smack as he lifted you off of him.

Steve spun to the carpet, replacing Bucky’s cock with his own as he cradled you to his chest. You moaned while he filled your over sensitive pussy once again.

“For a few months now.” Steve left your chest pressed to his while he lifted his hips, his pelvis gracing your clit with every thrust. “You have nothing to worry about now Doll. You’re home.”

~~~

December 31

You hated your naivety, you hated what they had put you through. But what you hated most of all was the denial.

The denial that you liked it. You loved the way they knew what was best, the way they punished you, the way they rewarded you, the way your life had stability for this first time.

When the knock sounded on your door you said goodbye to the snowflakes at the window. Maybe you were more like them than you wanted to admit, they would melt someday and you had to accept that you already had.

You turned to see Bucky and Steve walk in wearing Tuxedos. They both frowned that you weren’t wearing the beautiful dress Steve brought you, but no doubt confused by the time you spent getting your makeup and hair ready. Rolling your shoulders back you accepted your fate.

“Will you please fuck me?”

#steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #stucky x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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thebonerpit · 3 years

Text

cheerleader [FIC]

cheerleader

Rom Howney, 3896 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

A very seasonally appropriate fic in which Robert throws a Halloween party. Tom hates Halloween but decides to wear a costume he's wanted to try for years.

“I just don’t understand it.”

Tom frowns as he stares at the racks upon racks of zombies, clowns, vampires, and sexy nurses in front of him.

“I mean, to be fair, you don’t understand much of anything, do you mate?”

“Fuck off,” Tom says, whacking Harrison on the arm. “But seriously! Why do Americans go so absolutely mental for this stupid holiday?”

“Again, having trouble with the fact that you, an actor, who plays dress-up FOR A LIVING, doesn’t understand this. It’s not like this is any weirder than a fancy dress party. Plus, you get candy!”

Ok, he does have a point there.

Tom lets out a deep sigh. He wouldn’t even be bothering with all this if it weren’t for Robert. An invitation appeared in his inbox last week for a Halloween party, and when you’re invited to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s house, you don’t turn it down. Even if Halloween is incredibly stupid. He shuffles along through the rows of costumes, rolling his eyes at werewolf masks and inflatable dinosaurs.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Harrison groans, his hands already full of the various parts of a Mad Hatter costume.

“Just pick something, who cares?!”

“There’s too many options!”

“Ok, look. Halloween is the chance to dress any way you want to and have no one judge you for it. Just think about that. What have you always wanted to be?”

Tom immediately knows what the answer is, but instead of replying he just huffs and turns down another aisle that’s covered in fairy wings and glitter. He can’t possibly do it. Especially not for this party. For Robert’s party. It would be… inappropriate. He rounds the corner again and is faced with a shockingly huge assortment of superhero costumes. A foam version of Thor’s hammer sits on the shelf to his right, and he smirks as he picks it up and gives it a good twirl.

“In your face, Hemsworth,” he mutters quietly.

There’s a whole row of different Spider-Man costumes which makes him smile, especially when he sees a flimsy synthetic fabric version of the Iron Spider suit. And right next to that – a placement that thrills him even more than the suit alone - are the Iron Man costumes. Plastic faceplates, arc reactor gloves with LED lights, fabric onesies with fake, puffy muscles sewn in… it’s all there. Tom runs a finger along the edge of the faceplate before snatching his hand away like he’s been burned.

It’s all he can think about, even as they leave the store after Harrison buys his costume and Tom walks out empty-handed. He thinks about it on the ride home and through dinner until he finally makes excuses and runs off to hide in his room, laptop in hand, and puts on Iron Man 2. It doesn’t take long to get to the scene he wants. Tony Stark, diving through fireworks, landing on a flashy stage, surrounded by his Ironettes. Tom bites his lip as he stares intently at the bright red booty shorts, the long gloves, the crop tops… maybe, if he altered it just a bit, if he wore the mask… He can already feel his face heating up at the prospect of walking into Robert’s house dressed like that. Would he laugh? Would he be weirded out? Or… would he like it? Tom pushes the laptop off to the side and lets the movie play as he touches himself, coming to the sound of Robert’s voice in his headphones.

* * * * *

Tom is going to throw up. It’s inevitable, at this point. He’s in the back of a car squished between Harry and Harrison and he’s going to throw up. His stomach is in knots and he can’t remember ever being this nervous in his life. He’s used to the fluttering before a big stage performance or audition, but those nerves are more like excitement. This is sheer terror and he is going to THROW UP.

“Can you calm down? Jesus, you’re going to ruin my costume if you don’t stop squirming!” Harrison jabs a sharp elbow into his side and Tom jerks away into Harry who pushes him back.

“I just… I need some air.”

“The windows are all open! Take the mask off!”

That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. He was only able to leave the house in this costume with the mask securely over his face and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to take it off. He must be red as a tomato.

“Look, we’re here!” Harry crows. The car finally comes to a stop and they all pile out. Tom wants to collapse on the soft grass but he’s pulled along by four strong hands.

“Maybe I should… Look, I’ll just wait out here for a bit, ok? I just need—”

“Nope, absolutely not. Look mate, we already told you, he’s going to love it. Maybe not in the way you want him to-“ Tom punches Harry in the arm for that “-BUT, regardless, he’ll love it. You look great. And this is coming from someone who never turns down an opportunity to tell you you’re an ugly twat.”

“That was… almost sweet,” Tom says, and then yelps as they both drag him inside.

The party is in full swing and is absolutely packed with people. Small groups are standing around chatting, all in costume, and a live band is playing in the huge backyard to a crowded dancefloor. Tom recognizes only a few people – it’s hard to miss Scarlett even when she’s dressed like Morticia Addams – but that doesn’t bother him. Normally he loves mingling and meeting new people, and even dressed as he is it’s still exciting. It’s even easier after he quickly downs a few strong drinks, careful to only pull up the mask as far as it needs to go. The urge to vomit has pretty much dissipated and he’s actually beginning to enjoy himself, twirling around the dancefloor like a maniac until he’s slightly sweaty and out of breath.

“Water break!” he yells to Harry and squeezes through the crowd of people to get some air and hydrate. He finds a relatively quiet corner where he can chug half a water bottle in peace and is enjoying the cool air on his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles and nearly drops the bottle but manages to save it before turning around.

“Nice catch.”

Oh fuck. It’s him. It’s Robert. He hasn’t seen him the whole evening and assumed he was off being a good host so the whole thing almost slipped his mind, but now it’s all rushing back and he has to grip on to the fence post beside him to steady himself.

“Love the costume. Not exactly how I remember the Ironettes looking but I gotta say, this might be an improvement.”

Tom nearly chokes. He decided he couldn’t pull off the real Ironette costume as the distinct lack of breasts made it look a little awkward. So, he improvised. The shiny red and gold booty shorts stayed, of course. They made his ass look incredible. He bought the long red and gold arc reactor gloves and the plastic faceplate from the Halloween store, and instead of heeled boots he found a pair of gold high-tops and knee-high red socks. The shirt was the most difficult part, though. He went through a few variations before settling on something cute and comfortable: a red, cropped tank top. It was a bit loose and thin, so it flowed around his chest nicely and was short enough to show off his abs and his tiny waist. He also managed to find an LED necklace to serve as his arc reactor. It glowed a soft blue through the thin fabric of the shirt. Overall, he’s incredibly proud of what he came up with. Especially for someone who hates Halloween.

And now, with the way Robert is staring at him, he’s VERY happy he was brave enough to wear it.

“Is there someone under that gorgeous mask? Or are you too shy to say hello?”

Tom steels himself, takes a deep breath, and pulls the mask off.

Robert’s face goes through a myriad of emotions almost all at once. Shock, delight, amusement, and what is unmistakably arousal.

“Well. Tom Holland. As I live and breathe.” His voice is lower than before, more intimate, and when he takes a step forward Tom swears he feels the temperature go up by at least two degrees. He also notices that Robert is wearing eyeliner. The black kohl makes his eyes look even more gorgeous, and then there’s the red glitter dusted across his cheeks and around his hairline that is giving him an almost eerie glow.

“What are you supposed to be, then?” Tom asks. Robert smirks and points to the two small horns sticking out from his hair.

“The Devil, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeats weakly. It was barely a costume, the deep maroon suit looking more like red carpet attire than anything else, but fuck it looked incredible on him.

“I am the purveyor of sin on this fine evening,” he says, gesturing to the party, “so I thought I’d play the part. But you… you look far more sinful than me.”

Tom squeaks as Robert steps even closer and taps at the arc reactor on his chest.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“Just… just wanted to show you how much of a fan I am… Mr. Stark.”

Robert’s eyes snap up to Tom’s and he doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at so intensely in his entire life.

“Is that so… Mr. Parker?”

Tom whines, loud enough for Robert to hear it. His hand travels down Tom’s body to squeeze at the bare skin of his waist.

“I think—”

“Robert!!”

They both jerk back as if they’re waking up from a trance. Someone is yelling for Robert and waving him inside, and he acknowledges them with a quick gesture. Turning back to Tom, he licks his lips and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I think we’ll have to continue this later. Don’t leave without saying goodnight. Alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. O-ok. See you later,” Tom stutters, and when Robert disappears inside he chugs the rest of the water bottle and collapses back against the fence to catch his breath.

* * * * *

All the telltale signs of a party winding down are there. Most people have left, the band has stopped playing leaving only some low background music emanating from the speakers around the house, and the guests that remain are splayed out on various couches and chairs, half their costumes missing and happily drunk. The kitchen is a disaster and Tom feels bad adding more bottles to the mess, but he’s on a mission and can’t stop to tidy. After his run-in with Robert he only saw him briefly a few more times, mostly through a massive crowd, but he didn’t forget his words from earlier.

Don’t leave without saying goodnight.

Harrison and Harry have already gone home. They tried to get him to come with but Tom pretended to be enthralled in a conversation and told them he’d catch up in a bit. Now he’s wandering the massive house, peeking into various rooms as he looks for Robert. He gave up on wearing the mask after they met in the yard so it’s pushed up on his head like some sort of strange visor, his curls a sweaty mess beneath it. The second floor is quiet and empty; no one really came up here during the party anyway so it’s also much cleaner. A set of closed double doors is in front of him, and it’s the only place he hasn’t looked, so…

Tom slowly opens one door and pokes his head inside. Robert is lounging on a massive bed, scrolling on an iPad, glasses perched on his nose. He’s still got the horns on his head, and when he glances up over the rim of his glasses to smirk at Tom, he really does look positively devilish.

“Found you,” Tom says, trying to appear completely casual when his heart feels like it’s about to explode from under his ribcage.

“So you did. Come in. Close the door.”

Robert makes no effort to move so Tom slowly walks over to the bed, suddenly very conscious of how tight his shorts are as Robert unabashedly roams over his body with hungry eyes. He stops at the edge and toes at the plush carpet with one foot.

“Have you been drinking?”

Tom nods.

“How much?”

“Not that much,” Tom replies, understanding what Robert is trying to ask. “But maybe just enough to give me some liquid courage.”

Robert raises an eyebrow but waits patiently for Tom to make the first move, only shifting slightly to drop the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand. Guess it’s now or never.

He kneels on the edge of the bed with one leg first, testing the waters. Robert stays perfectly still. A deep inhale to steady himself and then Tom goes for it, pushing up on the bed and straddling Robert’s lap. He hesitates for only a moment before settling right on the seam of those expensive maroon trousers.

A pleased hum rumbles out of Robert’s chest as he runs two smooth, warm hands up Tom’s spread thighs to his waist.

“My own personal cheerleader, hm? I always knew you looked up to me but I never expected this… Pete.”

He catches Tom’s eye and gives him a brief wink. Tom’s heart speeds up even more as excitement bubbles in his stomach. Playing. Robert is playing with him. He was desperately hoping he wouldn’t drop this, leave it as the brief tease it was back in the yard. Acting with Robert is one of his favourite things in the entire world, and being able to do it like this? God, for the first time he’s actually happy that Tony Stark is dead because he’s never going to be able to act across from him again without thinking of this moment.

Robert nuzzles into his neck and starts leaving wet, sucking kisses all along the line of his throat. Tom shivers at the sensation and then starts to giggle when the tickle of Robert’s beard is too much against his sensitive skin. Robert laughs into his neck and nips playfully.

“You’re so darn cute,” he whispers. Robert has always been free with his compliments, telling Tom he’s handsome or pretty or talented, but somehow it just hits different when his hands are also squeezing Tom’s ass.

“Want to touch you, Mr. Stark,” Tom murmurs into his ear, easily switching his accent to sound even more like Peter. He feels Robert shudder underneath him and can’t help the pleased smirk that crosses his face.

“Yeah?” Robert says, grasping his chin gently so he can look into his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

Tom absolutely knows what he’s doing, but Peter…

“I… uh… I was hoping you could teach me. I’m a really quick learner, sir,” he says softly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Robert mutters, breaking character for a moment. He collects himself quickly though, shifting Tom in his lap just enough so he can undo his trousers and pull himself out. Tom’s mouth literally waters at the sight of Robert’s dick and he uses every ounce of willpower not to just pounce on him immediately.

“Want to feel your mouth, Pete,” Robert says, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s lower lip. “You can go slow. Use your tongue.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tom replies, trying not to sound too eager. He shuffles down a little and purposely sticks his ass up in the air. The red and gold shimmer on the shorts catches the dim light and he gives his hips a quick wiggle when he sees Robert staring.

“Maybe I should’ve reworked the design on your suit, hm? You like wearing little shorts like this?”

Tom nods and presses his face into the curls at the base of Robert’s dick, inhaling the scent of him. He feels the thick cock jerk against his cheek and angles his head to lick up the whole length of it, swirling his tongue at the tip. The bitter taste of precome blooms in his mouth and he moans, forgetting himself for a moment as he starts to give a much more experienced blowjob than what Peter would be capable of. Robert knocks the mask off Tom’s head so he can tighten his hand in his messy curls.

“Jesus,” Robert groans, “you’re good at this, kid.”

“Mmm, just want to make you feel good, sir,” Tom hums. He manages to remove one of the arc reactor gloves so he can grip Robert’s cock while he uses his mouth everywhere he can reach.

“Well, you’re doing a—fuck, god—a damn fine job.”

Tom thinks he could stay here forever, on his knees, mouth stretched almost painfully around Robert’s cock. He explores up his chest with his other hand, rubbing at one nipple with his thumb which makes Robert jerk underneath him.

“Keep doing that,” Robert spits out as he pushes Tom’s head down even further. He gags a bit but the incredible sensation of being stuffed and used overrides everything else and he takes every inch Robert gives him while tugging and pinching at his apparently very sensitive nipples. He drifts for a bit, so content and fuzzy, and only comes back when Robert pulls him off and throws him down on the bed.

“Pull up that shirt for me, sweetheart. Gonna paint your pretty chest with my come.”

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, please, please, want it,” Tom moans, shoving the fabric out of the way as Robert jerks himself off quickly above him. He can’t decide whether to watch his dick or his face when he finally comes, thick and white all over his chest and the arc reactor necklace. Robert’s slightly red in the face and gasping for breath as he steadies himself with a hand beside Tom’s head. Tom leans to the side to kiss at his knuckles and then dares to run his fingers through the come on the necklace and bring it to his mouth to taste.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack,” Robert says. His pupils are all blown out as he watches Tom hollow his cheeks as he sucks. Tom understands the feeling. He’s so hard in his shorts that it’s painful.

“Please,” he whispers, biting his lip, “will you touch me, Mr. Stark?”

“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker,” he replies. He palms him over the shorts which makes Tom buck into his hand. “As much as I love these… they have to go.”

The shorts are so tight that they both struggle to pull them down but finally they’re tossed off to a distant corner of the bedroom and Tom hisses as Robert immediately get his mouth on his cock. It feels absolutely heavenly, especially after being trapped in the confines of that uncomfortable fabric for so long. Robert takes his time, licks and sucks everywhere he can, all the way down to that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Tom whimpers as his tongue gets so fucking close to his hole but then pulls away.

“Want to use my fingers… s’that ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, yes!”

Robert grabs some lube from the nightstand and even warms it first before sliding one thick finger over Tom’s hole, pressing just the tip inside. Aside from the thrill of having Robert’s finger inside of him, the most incredible part is that he doesn’t stop sucking him off. The level of coordination is astounding and Tom would have complimented him on it if he was able to speak beyond moans and pleas for more. A second finger quickly joins the first and Tom’s body accepts it without hesitation.

“Good boy,” Robert murmurs in between gentle licks, “look at you, hm? So pretty and pink.”

Robert shifts him down a bit more which makes his legs fall open even wider. He feels so exposed and whines a little, trying to draw his knees close without squeezing Robert too much.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” Robert says. “You can put your legs up on me if that helps, ok?”

He hears the rubber of his high-tops squeak against Robert’s skin and somehow the sound is more obscene than anything else. He tries not to thump his heels too hard but fuck, Robert is doing something with his tongue that should be illegal and Tom can’t stop squirming. A low chuckle reverberates against his stomach as Robert pulls off briefly, his fingers still working in slow, gentle pushes.

“Aren’t you sensitive, hm?”

“P-please, Ro—Mr. Stark, please, need to come,” Tom begs, accent slipping slightly as he tries to shove himself down even deeper on Robert’s thick fingers. He’s held in place by the firm grip of Robert’s other hand on his waist and he whines petulantly.

“Anything for my favourite little spider,” Robert coos. He crooks his fingers and Tom arches up off the bed like he’s been shocked. He feels like he’s been on the edge since they first met in the yard and now Robert’s fingers are pressing right on his prostate and his hot mouth is back on his dick and he doesn’t think he could possibly hold off any longer if he tried.

“Gonna… gonna…” Tom’s whole body is taut, like a wire ready to snap, and when Robert takes him all the way down his throat he comes with a ragged gasp. Distantly he thinks he should be considerate and pull out but it’s like his body isn’t under his control anymore, and even though he hears wet choking noises it seems like Robert is just fine with him coming in his mouth. His fingers have stopped moving and he lets Tom clench around them for a few moments before gently sliding them out. Tom whines at the loss even though he’s so oversensitive right now he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

After taking a minute to catch his breath and regain any semblance of normal brain function, he finally looks down. Robert’s eyeliner is smudged and Tom feels a bizarre sense of pride about it. He can’t stop running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair which is also a complete mess.

“Just FYI,” Robert finally says, his voice a little raspy, “you’re going to be finding red glitter in every nook and cranny for about three years after this.” He punctuates that sentence by rubbing his cheek against Tom’s thigh, grinning as he does it.

“You’re a dick,” Tom says fondly, giggling even more as Robert continues to just rub his face all over his body. “But can’t say I’m gonna care that much if I’m being reminded about this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Robert says, that absolutely devilish grin returning, “I can give you more than just glitter for that.” Tom squeals as he starts sucking a deep bruise into the inside of one thigh, teeth marks and all, that Tom presses on every time he sees it for the next week.

#tbpwrites #rom howney #marvel rpf #nff #please do not expect this kind of consistency from me normally lol #usually it takes months in between fics!#but the fandom has been so lovely and active lately that it's inspired me #maybe i'll write some actual starker at some point and not just rpf

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