#also he looks so guy fieri core every time i draw him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wing-ed-thing · 4 years ago

Text

Retail Therapy (Kakuzu x Reader)

Synopsis: Deidara has a new partner for a combined effort with the Zombie Combo. However, something about you has Kakuzu heated.

Word Count: 2,123

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Threat of Violence, Probably Language, Gender Neutral Reader

Notes: Kakuzu content is probably some of the best stuff I’ve ever written. Right now I’m watching a video on fried milk. Ever hear of such a thing? Fascinating.

Kakuzu didn’t like being paired up with Hidan, let alone joint missions where he’d have to deal with even more people. Not to say that Kakuzu hated people, because he did, but he never thought that he’d hate anyone more than he absolutely hated you. He hadn’t even met you yet, but he knew at his very core that you would quickly become the bane of his entire existence.

“Shopping?” Kakuzu asked slowly, the word forming on his lips as if he had an aversion to even speaking it. Deidara leaned back on the large bounder that he settled on and stretched his arms up above his head. The blond nodded with a short groan before his hands came to rest behind his head.

“Yep,” he answered, “And for hours too, so I’d get comfortable.” Hidan plopped down on a patch of dirt below, his back and scythe against the side of the rock. Kakuzu glared down at his partner causing Hidan to shrug. To Hidan, if Deidara thought that the three of them would be waiting a while, he would take his word and make himself comfortable. Kakuzu’s attention turned back to Deidara.

“Hours? What possibly could someone be purchasing that takes them hours?” Hidan gazed up from his spot, head tilted back against the surface behind him.

“And we only came like five minutes late too. Who takes off like that?” Kakuzu almost nodded in agreement, but knowing his partner, Hidan would take any excuse to complain. Deidara shrugged, basking in the warmth of the sun and stayed lounging even as a rustling came from the woods. Hidan’s hand immediately reached up to grip the handle of his weapon and Kakuzu took a defensive stance. Deidara’s eyes remained closed.

“Oh hello, boys! I didn’t know you were here!” You sauntered out of the trees, bags hanging from both arms. They were pushed tightly in a line, every other patch of your skin strained by the handles of a different shopping bag. Even in your altered Akatsuki cloak, Kakuzu took a look at you and immediately decided that you were decorated far too ornately and that he’d like to kill you when he had the chance. You were objectively beautiful, but if Kakuzu had his way, Deidara would have to be assigned another partner soon. “You haven’t been waiting for too long, have you?”

“You shouldn’t have left us waiting at all,” Kakuzu glowered, although not any more than usual. Either you didn’t hear him or you ignored him as you walked up to your partner. You plucked a package from one of your more reachable bags.

“I got you something, Dei-dei!” You threw it up to Deidara weakly but he managed to catch it. He opened the small, folded, paper bag. Deidara glanced down at you with a nod of his head and a fold of his lips. He took the neat band in his hand while you looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t they nice? Hair ties. Silk from a small village in the Land of Water.” Deidara held them up to the sun.

“That’s some great quality you found. Thanks.” Your partner glanced down at you again. “Must’ve been one hell of a fight assuming that you got a good price for it.” Kakuzu looked on at your exchange, increasingly beginning to lose his temper.

“Believe me, I did. And I found a ton of other great finds too. I gotta show you—”

“Enough,” Kakuzu growled and you finally turned your attention his way. Hidan had since passed out against the boulder that Deidara sat on. “You’re wasting all our time. The sooner we start, the sooner we can part ways.” You gave Kakuzu a once over with your nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Well someone’s grumpy,” you mused. You rolled your eyes and pointed your nose upward. Huffing, you threw your shopping bags into the air and as they fell, you swiftly unfurled a scroll. Your new items disappeared one by one. You rolled the paper back up, scowling as you slipped the scroll into one of many slots that you wore strapped to your clothing. The pockets ran down the small of you back and you latched the bundle of paper in place with a flip of your nimble fingers. Kakuzu frowned back, tentatively wondering if all the scrolls you carried contained the same amount of shopping bags. You approached him with crossed arms. “Okay then, tough guy. Let’s get started.”

You sat down and summoned a map of the next village. It laid out in front of you and placed your hands on your knees in challenge. Kakuzu sat down on the other side of the map, eyes boring into you. You didn’t budge. And as you began to speak, it was hard to focus, at least for Deidara. Though he supposed he’s seen you this fired up before.

“It would be easier if we lure the jinchūriki outside of the village,” you said, gesturing to the small, unnamed village on the map. It wasn’t large, but just big enough to serve as a maze for your prize. At least you knew the woods better and a jinchūriki was bound to stand out among the trees.

“I can get up some traps,” Deidara added and you nodded.

“Back them into a corner and cage them into a small space—” You nodded again— “We can use some explosives around the area… maybe here?” You pointed to a section of the map outside of the village. You looked up at Deidara. “You’d be our last line of defense when the jinchūriki tries to run.” Deidara smirked and puffed out his chest.

“Leave it to me!”

“We’ll need someone to drive the jinchūriki out of the village,” Kakuzu cut in, not particularly liking how you dominated the strategizing. “I’ll go with Hidan.” While Kakuzu thought that he would stop at nothing to get away from the Jashinist, this had to be a regrettable first. Hidan napped a few feet away.

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “You and Hidan? Psh… might as well have Deidara set off fireworks in the sky that spell out ‘single, hot jinchūriki in your a—”

“I can do that!” Deidara cut in before immediately backing down at Kakuzu’s pointed glare, not that he’d show it. You locked eyes with Kakuzu, taking his fiery stare off of your partner.

“I’ll go. You’re too conspicuous and, really, have you seen Hidan? You two would be spotted a mile away.” Kakuzu almost snarled.

“And you wouldn’t?” You let out a short, bitter laugh. Your left arm supported your weight as your knees touched together on the right side of your body. Kakuzu scowled at your blatant lounging. Everything about you challenged him and he hated you for it. Your lids narrowed in a smug smile.

“I’m not the one—” who’s fuckin’ jacked — “ with big-ass black stitches across my whole body.”

“And four faces on his back…” Hidan called out, still half asleep. You turned back to Kakuzu.

“And four faces on his back,” you repeated, much to Kakuzu’s vexation. The sass in your blinks was lost on the older shinobi. He stood, causing you to stand too. Deidara took a hint and retreated. Kakuzu crossed his arms over his chest and he planted his feet on the ground about the same width apart as his broad shoulders. He pointed two fingers at you harshly.

“And you’re—” Gorgeous. — “a brat. I should just kill you right here.” You stood your ground, daring to slap Kakuzu’s hand out of your face.

“As much as I’d like to see you try, tough guy, I’d actually like to do some quality work and get the hell away from you as quickly as I can.” Kakuzu huffed, gritting his teeth underneath his mask.

“Nice to hear that we’re on the same page.”

And with neither of your partners wanting to deal with either of you pissed off, you and Kakuzu were paired together.

***

Deciding that your cloaks were too noticeable, you sealed yours away. Kakuzu kept his draped across his arm, distrust of you evident. You walked down the road together under the late afternoon, waiting for nightfall. You hoped that striking at night would give you not only the surprise advantage, but also minimize the number of clueless civilians that would no doubt wander in your way. But as soon as your eyes fell onto the market, Kakuzu quickly began to wonder if his stubbornness landed him with an even larger headache. But his usual, standoffish demeanor remained the same. Kakuzu’s eyes drifted to their corners as he scowled down at you.

“No.” That was all he said, as if you would actually listen to him and not immediately march in the direction of the market. He reluctantly followed, every reach to hold you back by your robes falling just a bit short each time. By the time you were stopped, too many people surrounded the two of you for him to pull you away without drawing attention. Normally, attention from others wasn’t anything that Kakuzu would be concerned with, but your two teams had their orders and Kakuzu would be damned if he had to spend anymore time with you.

You stood in front of a booth with your hand on your chin. Kakuzu stood next to you, following your gaze to a simple, but sturdy-looking sword. You gingerly picked it up, carefully studying it’s craftsmanship. The man behind the booth leaned over his table, motioning to the piece of merchandise in your hands.

“Ah, you have a good eye, mercenary.” You glanced up at him.

“Land of Earth? Lots of excellent craftsmanship comes from there, I’m not surprised.” You ran your thumb across the dull of the blade. “Antique too, but still hardy.” The merchant nodded pointing to a few spots across the weapon.

“Could get you out of a bind too. Reliable smithing comes from Tsuchi no Kuni.” Kakuzu looked on at the show in front of him. In stark contrast to earlier, you seemed poised and he found you knowledgeable. You appeared calm and competent enough to handle yourself and for a second, Kakuzu became lost in your analysis.

You stepped back, turning the sword around in your hand to feel out the balance. The blade whipped around your body with ease. The seller softly applauded your embellished practice. Kakuzu almost rolled his eyes, but took some comfort in the fact that you were looking to purchase something of quality and not just anything at the very least. You looked down at the weapon with a nod or two before asking the dreaded question.

“So what’s your price?” The merchant didn’t hesitate.

“A hundred thousand ryō.” Kakuzu almost left right there, but a dominant part of him wanted to know what you were going to do. His hands grasped his biceps, his cloak still hanging from his forearm. Kakuzu watched you closely. You shook your head.

“You’re going to give it to me for twenty-five thousand.” The merchant gaped at the outrageous price you named. He sputtered a few times.

“That price is far too low for this quality. You must be joking if you think I’d sell this fine piece of equipment for practically nothing.”

You did name a ridiculous price. Not even Kakuzu could see getting what you wanted for that price without a fair bit of violence and intimidation. But you ripped into that merchant. You ripped into this poor seller like nothing Kakuzu had ever seen before. He didn’t even know if he could call it bartering, but whatever it was, it was likely one of the most skillful things that Kakuzu had ever seen.

He folded his lips under his mask. You didn’t yell. Kakuzu didn’t even find your appearance intimidating in the slightest, yet every point and number the merchant brought up, you countered. And by the end of the intense conversation, if Kakuzu didn’t know any better and had less of a spine, he’d likely be handing the sword over too. The man had long since started sweating, tugging at his collar. If Kakuzu didn’t see it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it as you handed over exactly twenty-five thousand ryō. He almost overlooked the complete waste of money as he still stood stunned, though not outwardly showing any such emotion.

You nestled the sword by your hip and the seller let out a breath of relief by the time you walked away. Kakuzu followed wordlessly next to you as you strutted off in triumph.

Perhaps he misjudged you. He stared, not noticing as he did so.

Yes, you were going to save the organization a fortune.

Notes: “oH mY gOd KaKuzU sAiD hE wAs GoNna KiLl rEader! wHy wOuLd yOu wRiTe sOmEtHiNg sO tOxIc???”... They’re criminal terrorists, Susan.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#kakuzu x reader #kakuzu #Akatsuki x reader #Akatsuki!reader #deidara #hidan #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #x you #x reader #reader insert #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto imagine

207 notes · View notes

sirius-archive · 5 years ago

Text

Heatwave (The Mandalorian x Reader) SMUT

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, rough sex, light choking, dom/sub (Mandalorian dom, Reader sub)

Word count: 🤷🏽‍♀️

Summary: You’re a thief with sexy fire powers. He’s a sexy bounty hunter who you’ve been playing cat and mouse with. When he catches you, Baby Yoda decides to play match-maker. It works. For once.

A/N: I found this baby after scrolling through my notes and had to post it. I wrote this when I was drunk so forgive the spelling errors. Baby Yoda is literally that one criminal dude from tangled (I think?) who bangs the two tiny wooden horses together. lol.

Also, am I wrong in saying that I think everyone wants to fuck the Mandalorian in his sexy Mandalorian armour?

(Not my gif)

***

You can’t deny that there’s something sexy about being handcuffed and taken prisoner by the Mandalorian.

While inconvenient to say the least, there’s still an undercurrent of sexual tension that demands to be felt, charging the air between the two of you as he straps you into the seat beside him. It’s why he always chases you, why you always allow yourself to get caught, and why he lets you escape into the night. It’s the longest, most amusing, most sexy game of chess you’ve ever played.

“Every time you handcuff me, I always imagine it in an entirely different context,” you purr, smirking up at him as he tightens your handcuffs.

As usual, he doesn’t say anything at first. Its becoming all too predictable.

The fancy, expensive, definitely-not-a-sex-toy handcuffs dig into the skin of your wrists, though not enough to make it arousing. He’s done it deliberately; he’s surmised you like it rough from your previous encounters with him. It’s a type of torture he’s managed to master exceedingly well. Which is arousing in itself. What a paradox the two of you are.

“Jokes on you, y’know,” you tease, tilting your head up at him, “I’m very much into the idea of you torturing me.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” he warns, his voice tinny and deliciously husky.

“So he speaks.”

The Mandalorian remains silent, though you can somehow tell he’s glaring at you from behind his helmet.

“You’re not the first Mandalorian to come after me,” you say as he kneels to bind your ankles, “And you won’t be the last. I’ve killed your predecessors and I won’t hesitate to kill whoever they decide to send after you. You’re lucky I’m into you otherwise I’d have my legs around your neck right now — and not in a good way.”

The Mandalorian is silent at first. Then, when you think he isn’t going to grace you with a response—

“So you’re just going to keep running? What kind of life is that?”

You chew your bottom lip, considering his question thoughtfully, “It’s a life and it’s far better than the alternative.”

The Mandalorian rises, straightens the broad line of his shoulders, “Is it really a life? If you can’t settle down to enjoy it?”

You gracefully arch an eyebrow at him, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mandalorian.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

****

The strange, tiny child gazes up at you with large, innocent inky-black eyes and blinks owlishly.

He’s managed to scramble into your lap, blocking your means of escape while the Mandalorian hastily fixes the engine of his ship. You can’t help but smile at his innocence, contrasting the weight of your criminal ways.

Regardless, you focus on funnelling the spluttering ball of energy in your core to your ankle cuffs. The heated metal bites into your skin as it begins to glow bright orange, but you can take it. You’re one of the last Phoenixs — or Nixes, for short — in the universe; cosmic fire and heat is what you are, what you’re made of.

The child, however, doesn’t seem afraid of the heat rising from your skin, turning your hair a bright, fiery red.

“Look, little guy — or girl — I need you to get off my lap so I can bust out of here!” You hiss, imploringly, “My distraction will only last so lo—“

The Mandalorian’s heavy footsteps echo into the cockpit of his ship. You immediately stop melting the metal, allowing your natural hair colour to bleed over the reds and oranges, disguising your true heritage.

He stops, spotting the child now stroking your hair.

“He’s cute,” you remark, beaming down at the child, “Didn’t realise you had a kid.”

The Mandalorian marches forward and snatches the child from your lap. He cradles him protectively, eying you with what you suspect is suspicion as he safely places the child on the far side of the room.

“Don’t touch him.”

“He was touching me first.”

“I don’t care, don’t touch him.”

“My god, you’d think I’m infected with some hideous, flesh-eating disease.”

“No, you’re a criminal—“

“—Thief—“

“—you’re a criminal and I don’t trust you.”

Something about that stings. Your expression shutters, schooling into apathy.

“So why keep me around?” You ask, coolly, “Why don’t you just carbon freeze me?”

You have a feeling you know the answer. He doesn’t carbon freeze you for the same reason why he doesn’t bother stopping you as you escape the slippery clutches of the ego-bruised men you’ve stolen from. It’s the same reason you haven’t burned him to a crisp as soon as you’ve seen him, the same reason you allow him to drag you back to his ship, cash you in for his bounty, and disappear.

There’s tension, but it’s more than tension. It’s something you can’t articulate because you’ve never quite felt it before. You doubt he has either.

The Mandalorian doesn’t answer. He seems to be staring down at the ankle cuffs, the metal twisted and deformed from where you’ve been heating it. He steps forward—

Suddenly, an invisible force loop around your waist and hoists you up, pulling you toward The Mandalorian. His arms are forced around your waist in jerky movements almost like an invisible puppeteer is pushing and plucking the strings. His helmet is yanked up over his neck, past his chin, stopping just above his nose, revealing plush lips and stubble and—

Your lips are forced together in the most awkward kiss you’ve ever had.

Both of you have your lips pressed tight, and the Mandalorian is rigid and tense, unsure of what to do. Still, energy blinks to life inside of you and you open your mouth just a little, embracing the kiss.

It lingers. It’s still awkward.

But then, he begins to kiss you back, his lips moving slightly, carefully, enough to taste hints of fine whiskey and your head begins to spin, embers sparking your lower belly, travelling up your spine, across your chest, down your arms—

It ends all too soon.

“Stop it, let us go,” The Mandalorian orders over his shoulder. You allow your eyes to follow his line of sight, snagging on the kid.

His tiny, pudgy hand is raised, his round eyes closed and you realise with a shock that he’s controlling you, bending the air around you both and forcing you into this kiss.

At the sound of his voice, the child stops, releasing his hold on you. He staggers a little, exhaustion seemingly crashing over him, dragging him under into unconsciousness. He collapses and the Mandalorian rushes forward to catch him, holding the child to his chest.

The Mandalorian disappears for a moment, giving you time to recover from your bewilderment. You’ve never seen anything quite like that before, and you’ve seen a lot of things. You have a feeling that in your past life, you may have witnessed a similar phenomenon, but you’re not giving enough time to dwell on it, however, because the Mandalorian comes storming back.

“So, you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

The Mandalorian ignores you, hunting around the cockpit for something.

“You’re not going to make me beg, are you?”

The Mandalorian stops, slants a look over his shoulder, “Maybe I will.”

You roll your eyes, “Please, Mando. Please tell me what the fuck just happened.”

The Mandalorian grasps a black bandage and whips it, stalking toward you, “Not what I meant.”

“What—?”

“—I’m sick of chasing you,” he growls, manoeuvring you around so he can fasten the bandage around your head; a makeshift blindfold, “It’s time you got what you deserve.”

Your stomach curdles, blood roaring in your ears. Carbon freezing. Your worst fear. You try to swallow, but it gets knotted somewhere in your throat.

“Kinky,” you rasp, trying your best to recover your slipping facade, “I hope my punishment involves whips and chains.”

The Mandalorians voice is in the shell of your ear, Mississippi hot and molasses thick, “Oh, you have no idea.”

Suddenly, he spins you around, and you barely have time to recover from the whiplash before his lips are on yours.

He’s ferocious, unforgiving. Just the way you like it.

He kisses you with a fiery passion, tongue darting into your mouth, tasting, teasing, his teeth digging into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. You moan, arching against him, wishing he’d free you so you could tug him closer but the Mandalorian keeps you bound and at his mercy.

You pull away, panting, as the Mandalorian trails kisses down your neck, sucking and biting and bruising the tender flesh. He’s obviously taken his helmet off while you were blindfolded. Curiosity strikes you but is dissolved when he finds the spot on your neck that makes you gasp.

“If—if I had known this would happen, I would’ve allowed myself to get caught a lot sooner,” you tease, a little breathlessly.

The Mandalorians fingers grasp your waist, pulling you closer, gripping you with bruising strength that dampens your panties. He chuckles against your skin, breath hot, tongue wet as he licks along your jugular.

“God I hate that mouth of yours,” he breathes, scraping his teeth across your skin, “It gets you into so much trouble.”

“It’s good for other things, too.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he grasps your waist with strong hands and spins you around, breath fanning across the back of your neck.

Your spine shudders and melts. He makes quick work of your clothes, starting with your sleeveless turtleneck top. He pulls it over your head and tosses it aside and unclasping your bra. With one hand pawing at your breast, he uses the other to tug on the zip of your skirt, pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet. He helps you out of your thigh-high boots and undoes the holsters strapped to your thigh. Next, he uncuffs your wrists and ankles until you’re wearing nothing but skin. His breath audibly tangles in his throat.

You snicker, biting your bottom lip, “My, my. Have I rendered the great Mandalorian speechless?”

A sharp stab of pain ripples across your ass cheek, followed by the rough ministrations of a strong, calloused hand. You gasp, relishing in the sting of pain and burst of arousal.

You moan. Your darkest fantasies have spilt from your daydreams and splashed themselves against the backdrop of reality. Finally, after three years of chasing and catching, the sexual tension sizzling between the two of you is resolved.

He steals the breath from your lungs as he kisses you deeply, your moans melting on his tongue. His fingers grip your breasts and you gasp, head lulling back as he rolls them in the palm of his hands.

“God,” you sigh, “You’re good at this.”

Suddenly, his lips are biting into your nipple and you arch into his mouth, fingers combing through his hair as he slurps and sucks on your nipple. Your thighs quiver as you tug on the roots of his hair and he groans. You can feel him poking into your thigh and your excitement builds quickly, your fingers pulling at his cape.

He steps away from your grasp with a low, drawling chuckle, rich with husk and desire and pure sex appeal.

“I’m in control,” he snarls, “You obey me. You hear?”

“Yes, master,” you whimper, skin crawling.

“Good.”

You hear the rasping of fabric and the whirr of zipper teeth being pulled apart. His footsteps, heavy with purpose, move around you; there's a clang of metal and then he’s behind you again, loosening your blindfold until it falls away.

The Mandalorian whirls you around, pushing you up against the control board. He’s still fully clothed and his helmet is now fixed onto his neck and while you had been curious about the face that hides behind that helmet, you can’t deny that the thought of him fucking you in his bounty armour is unbelievably sexy.

The only thing that’s missing is — of course — the codpiece. Your shiver completely rattles your entire frame, anticipation bubbling deliciously in your veins.

The Mandalorian steps forward and reaches into his pants, pulling out his cock.

You salivate.

He’s...huge. Probably the biggest and thickest cock you’ve seen (and you’ve seen a lot in your lifetime — part of the job). It makes you wonder how he jams that beast into his pants without damaging something. You slide your tongue over your lips as you watch him stroke himself, smearing precum over the bulging, purple helmet.

“Touch yourself.”

You obey, spreading your legs far apart so he can watch your fingers dance. Behind his mask, you can feel his eyes smouldering as you tease your clit, rubbing the pearl of nerves with your index and middle finger. You moan, tossing your head back, building up quite the rhythm while the Mandalorian watches.

You startled slightly when the Mandalorian runs his hands over your smooth thighs, mapping you out with his fingers. He’s gentle, appreciating the warmth of your skin, how you glow with desire and emit a natural, golden aura common among Nixes.

“It’s been a while since...” he trails off, shaking his head.

With a sudden burst of strength, he grips your legs and hoists them around his waist. And, impatiently, unceremoniously, he slides inside of you.

“Fuck,” you curse, gripping his broad shoulders.

Moans spill into the air as the Mandalorian begins to move, rolling his hips against you. The cool metal of his armour shocks your hot skin but the contrast of steaming heat and icy cold makes your eyes roll back and your heart hammer impossibly fast.

“Yes, yes, oh Jesus yes!”

The Mandalorian’s pace begins to build as he slams into you. He’s rough and unapologetic and reaching depths inside of you that you didn’t know existed. He pounded with frenzied, sharp movements, his hand snaking up your side to your neck where his fingers hugged and tightened. His other hand stays secured on your hip, bruised already starting to form from where his grip burns into you.

Your fingers skim across your damp skin, trailing down to your clit where your fingers circle and pinch. The Mandalorian — silent until now — groans as he watches you, his pace speeding up ruthlessly.

“I’m close,” he grunts, giving your neck a squeeze.

“So am I,” you hiss, locking your legs around him.

The friction of his armour against your hot skin, the pressure of his strong hand gripping your begging neck, his cock ploughing into you with incredible strength; it’s an overwhelming indulgence to the senses and you feel your hot core begin to glow, crackling with cosmic energy.

The air, thick with sex and insatiable heat, shimmers and ignites with tiny tongues of fire like hovering fireflies. The Mandalorian hasn’t noticed yet, but it doesn’t take him long until he does.

“(Y/N)––“

He’s cut off by the cry that issues from your swollen lips. Your pussy clenches and quivers around his cock as you tumble over the edge, crashing into a release that completely drowns your body in mind-numbing pleasure. The Mandalorian is right behind you, grinding out pieces of your name as he meets his own release.

Panting, you sit up and he rests his head on your shoulder. Around you, the small flames have exploded into tiny fireworks, lighting up the air with vibrant light.

You slide off the control board, climb back into your clothes and pull on your boot. You reach for the other boot but the Mandalorian grabs it first, kneeling to slide the boot onto your foot. You watch, mesmerised, as he pulls the inner zip up your leg and along your thigh.

Moments later, the electronic doors to the cockpit slide open and the child waddles forward, gazing innocently up at you. You step forward and give the Mandalorian a questioning look. He nods.

You bend down and scoop the child into your arms and he snuggles against your chest.

“I really love this kid,” you murmur, beaming down at him.

“Yeah, he’s alright,” The Mandalorian shrugs, approaching you so he can tug at the child’s cloak. He pulls it over the child’s face, keeping his neck warm.

“We have to name him,” you decide, “I can’t keep referring to him as the kid.”

You say it like you’re staying with them, trapesing across the universe together.

The Mandalorian, however, doesn’t disagree.

The handcuffs and ankle cuffs stay in their place on the floor.

#the mandalorian #star wars #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #baby yoda #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian imagines #smut #star wars imagine #mandalorian #dad!mandalorian #dom/sub #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian spoilers #star wars smut #star wars fluff #georgie writes

3K notes · View notes

masterkief · 4 years ago

Text

hiii this is really gross and I’m ashamed...pls forgive me and hopefully u enjoy. Also I did this from ryan’s pov so like idk?

- -

Heaven. I never really thought it existed, until tonight that is. Call me a weeb, corny, lame, whatever you want but when she walked into the room every once and a while and she danced with herself as she chatted up friends it felt as if the earth stood still and I was in the presence of a goddess. It was Saturday and some friends and I had gone to a party for the night. She was dressed in tight light blue dress that was decorated in various Animal Crossing characters, gripping at her curves in all the right ways. Her hair was twisted in loose curls that fell just below her breasts and her smooth skin gleamed just as bright as her eyes.

“Aye ya big goof, just go talk to her!”

Although Matt was sitting right next to me his voice had gone distant as soon as my mystery girl had entered my vision. A sudden hand waved in front of my face attempting to draw my attention back to reality. I blinked slowly and reluctantly looked in his direction, my mind refusing to draw away from her. “Her” I didn’t even know “her” name, I didn’t know anything about her but still I was instantly infatuated.

“What?” I half growled, irritated that he took my attention from her.

He raised his eyebrows shocked at my irritable reaction, and then smirked when he realized why I was so mad.

“Go talk to her.” He suggested pointing his head her way.

I slowly turned my head back towards where she last stood and felt my stomach fall when I realized that she had vanished again. My eyebrows furrowed with slight annoyance that I had missed my chance because Matt needed me to look at him. I forced myself up but not before pounding my fist into his shoulder. The slight buzz from the alcohol I had gulped down was beginning to take over and I could feel my vision growing blurry. I searched the house up and down trying to find the girl who flooded my thoughts since the beginning of the night but found no luck.

“Fuck.” I grumbled to myself stopping in front of the table full of alcohol.

Drinking probably wasn’t the best idea if I was going to talk to this girl but my nerves were shot already and I hadn’t even spoken to her yet. As I was pouring the whiskey into my glass I glanced up and noticed the girl from before standing right dead in front of me, her eyes examining my entire existence intently as if she were reading right through to my soul. A hidden fiery lust began to burn through my veins and I wasn’t paying attention to my glass that was now overflowing with Jack.

“Shit!” I cried as the sticky substance soaked my hand and the table.

The girl giggled timidly to herself as she watched me flail and panic to quickly clean up my mess. When I had gotten it under control I looked up to see her smiling at me from behind her hair, her alcohol glossed eyes gleaming beautifully under the dimly lit kitchen light.

“Am I funny to you yeah?”

I guess they don’t call alcohol life’s “liquid confidence” for nothing because the confidence that suddenly filled my mouth shocked even myself. The girl chuckled again and raised an eyebrow seductively.

“In fact,” She started, leaning closer to me.

My eyes tried not to avert to her cleavage that was protruding from the top of her dress but I failed which caused her to laugh again and my cheeks to burn a deep shade of embarrassment.

“You are quite funny.” She finished slowly standing straight up again.

She put her cup to her mouth and took a sip. A droplet of the drink sat dormant on her bottom lip, her tongue soon traced the plump pink flesh to clean it off and she made sure her eyes never left mine. Hunger filled her brilliant eyes and I could feel a hunger of my own pressing firmly against the inside of my basketball shorts. My head began to spin quickly as the burst of confidence from before began to drain quickly, nervousness filling its place.

“So…” She began again placing her cup down. “What’s your name Mr. Funny?”

Words trapped themselves in my throat as I picked my brain for what my own name was.

“R-Ry…Ryan…Ryan my friends call me Ryan.” I stammered from both nerves and the liquor that swam through my veins.

The girl smiled again and shifted in place so that she was putting all her weight on her right leg and the table.

“Well R-Ry-Ryan,” She mimicked playfully. “I’m Y/N.”

‘Y/N’…her name floated through my head rapidly. I thought of beautiful things, like sunshine and rain and fields and fucking her mercilessly right here for everyone to see. A harsh throbbing erupted through my groin at the thought and my breath hitched in my throat. Y/N’s eyes slowly moved from mine down to my hips and she absentmindedly licked her lips again.

“Ryan.” She stated knocking me from my inappropriate thoughts.

My eyes met with hers again as words escaped me. She tilted her head upward and eyebrow rose.

“Follow me.” She demanded with another radiant smile.

Without a word or even a thought of detesting I made my way to her side. She put her hand in mine causing a shot of electricity to ravage my spine as she led me throughthe living room where the music was the loudest. My head was spinning more rapidly now and I felt as if I might explode.

We ended up on the patio, a cool breeze sending a chill down my spine.

“You smoke?” Y/N asked as she plopped down at the little glass table.

I watched as she pulled a blunt from her purse and cracked it open with her thumbnail, spilling the tabacco guts into the bush behind her. Without a word I sat down across from her, watching as if she might disappear.

“What?” She asked, looking up at me from beneath her eyelashes, “Never seen the devil’s lettuce before?”

She finished packing the blunt with the all too familiar green substance and I couldn’t help but watch her run her tongue across the end to seal it. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.

Lighting it, she took a few hits then passed it in my direction. It was as if I never smoked before and I smoked every fucking day. Trying to keep my hand from shaking as best I could, I took it from her.

“First time?” She teased with a playful laugh, exhaling the smoke.

I couldn’t help but snicker as I passed it back to her, “I wish.”

We sat outside for what seemed like forever. My brain was finally able to comprehend sentences and by the time we finished the blunt it felt like we were long lost friends just catching up.

“You’re really cute.”

Her sudden compliment caught me off guard, causing me to choke on my cigarette. She giggled into her cup as she took a sip of her drink.

“I’m sorry.” She started, “That was really weird.”

Ha...weird? I’ve been obsessing over her the entire night and she felt weird?

“You’re joking right?” I blurted out, sounding more harsh than intended.

Her eyebrows pulled together with confusion and offense. Way to go Magee..

“Sorry.” I apologized quickly, throwing my cigarette butt. “It’s just you’re a fucking babe.”

She bit her bottom lip and stood up from her chair.

“Come with me.” She whispered, leaning into my ear as she passed me.

I obeyed silently as she led me back into the house and eventually down a darkened hallway. She didn’t even give me a chance to make a move as she suddenly threw me up against the wall towards the end of the hall, her mouth destroying mine. She bit at my bottom lip causing a throaty moan to escape from my mouth.

“Fuck me Ryan.” She ordered in a harsh whisper against my neck.

My hands grabbed and squeezed eagerly at every inch of her as we backed towards a door still attached to each other. We busted through not even checking if anyone was already occupying it and closed the door quickly behind us. I threw Y/N to the bed roughly, our bodies only parting briefly so that I could eye her up as she laid on her back, her breasts coming out of the top of her dress even more. I licked my lips and quickly put them on hers again. Soon they traveled to her jaw…then her neck…and then her collarbone as I left sloppy kisses and bites against her skin. I tore her dress down to her waist violently not being able to hold back any longer.

“Ryan.” She moaned as my mouth planted itself onto her right breast.

I bit and nipped at the skin making sure to let my tongue trace her perfectly hardened nipple. Slowly but surely I moved downward gliding my tongue down the valley of her stomach, stopping right at her hips. I heard her breath lodge itself in her throat as I got dangerously close to her core. My hands gripped her thighs, my thumbs digging into the inside of each one causing her to buck her hips upward. I moved back up to her face and her hands tugged at the top of my shorts. Our lips crashed together fiercely as I ground my hips into hers causing a more audible moan to come from her mouth. My shorts soon found their way to my ankles and I kicked them off, then sliding Y/N’s panties off from under her dress. We reconnected once again as I readied myself at her entrance.

“Come on funny guy.” She groaned eagerly, wanting me to enter her. “Show me what you’ve got.”

I smirked and raised an eyebrow, the tip of my cock now right against her slit. Her eyes widened, in complete disbelief that I was teasing her. She forced herself upward trying to push it in for me but I pulled away every time knowing it was driving her crazy.

“Please.” She begged. “Please Ryan just fuck me.”

Her begging set me off and with her least expecting it I plunged deep into her warm, and wet center. As her noises of pleasure grew louder and louder I pumped harder and harder into her, the headboard of the strangers bed surely putting dents in the wall.

“Ryan.” She cried, her walls getting tighter around me. “Ryan I-...I’m close already.”

I smiled against her neck and thrust into her as hard as I possibly could, surely about to break her.

“Not until I tell you to.” I ordered, my voice shaking as I got close to my own explosion.

I pulled away from her neck and placed my hand over her mouth to keep any outside audience on the edge of their seats. Wrecking into her I felt her breath on the palm of my hand grow faster, indicating that she was right at the edge and unable to take anymore.

“Cum for me Y/N, cum!” I growled against her ear.

Soon enough she screamed my name into my hand, her muffled cry of ecstasy setting me off as well. I collapsed next to her, both of us breathing heavily.

“Christ.” She breathed heavily her legs trembling.

“I’m not just good at being funny.” I teased, my hand now resting on her thigh.

Y/N laughed her lovely laugh, which made my head continue to spin.

“I see that…”

#ryan magee x reader #ryan magee fic #ryan magee imagine #ryan magee oneshot #ryan magee #supermega fic #supermega oneshot #supermega x reader #supermega imagine #supermega #matt and ryan #requests open #requests

83 notes · View notes

miioouu · 5 years ago

Note

Demon! Bakugou x Human Reader? 👀

Wooooo I left this for 666 followers because, well I want to! Sorry if you didn't want smut, you can send me another request when I open my requests! Thank you for requesting! ❤️💜❤️ And thank you so so much for 666 followers you guys🥺🥺

Warning: smut, oral sex, fingering, anal, somnophilia.... Also very long post sry 😔

People looked at you like you were crazy. Who in their right mind would buy such house? Old and dark, window screaming in breezy nights, wood cracking for no reason. People claimed it to be haunted, advising you to run away, never step a foot inside the house. But who were they to tell you what to do? You didn't see an unholy house in front of you, nor a roof for demons or ghosts or whatever mythical creature they believed in. No you saw a beautiful house, one that has potential to turn into the best looking home in the neighborhood. And at the price it was offered, you hit the jackpot. Big and dark, you're soon to transform it.

Turning the key as you stepped in, dust filling your lungs, coughing and shaking your hand to get rid of it. You had a lot to work on, and first you had to get it all cleaned up before starting any renovation. Everywhere you looked there were pictures reminding you of old witchcraft. Devil horns, crosses, and crystals. But what stood up was a particular painting, young, and powerful, eyes seeming to follow your every movement, and if you looked straight into them, your chest starts to heave, breathing becomes hard, sweat running down your face as your hands shake while you're taking the frames of the walls. You didn't need a dead man to decorate your house.

Days passed and you're still cleaning up that damned house. Nights spent there seemed colder, making you shiver even under the layers upon layers of covers. Crickets seem louder here and the air seems to flow with more force. Though you blamed it on the poorly insulated walls. Unaware of the form roaming around your house. Well more like his house. Angry eyes boring into your soul as you tried to move his favorite coffee table, glacy fingers trying to stop you from throwing away expensive furniture. You were getting on every single one of his nerves. How dare you come to his house, acting like it's your own, destroying fortune poured into the decoration? Who's that insane woman trying to own his property?

He was having more than enough with you, his only wish to dig his nails into your skin, drawing blood out of you. His only wish to see the life drained out of you, begging him to stop. And his desire only getting worse when it looks like you weren't getting his warnings. How could you ignore such things? Breaking of your new lamp, moving candles and cold, freezing air hitting your skin leaving trails of goosebumps in its awakening. How could you be so dense?

You had toured the whole house, happy and joyful. Sure some things were a bit weird, but that's just your mind playing tricks on you, right? Well you were as sure as you moved to the basement. What you expected was dead rats, cockroaches, spider webs, anything really, but this. Left over wax sealed on the walls and floors, books covering up the whole wood floor , upside-down crosses hanging from the walls and most importantly, a huge pentagram burned into the floor. Perfect circle, and pointy ends of the star. The sight alone making you shiver as cold sweat ran down your body. Breathing heavy as you walked in the room. Each step felt heavy. Each step having you feel colder. Each step having your conscious screaming at you, begging for you to turn back, run away from the house, making your legs feel weak and wobbly as you get closer and closer to the cursed symbole.

Finally, you had discovered him, maybe that would make you leave, maybe you'll finally understand. You don't belong here Y/n. Smirk carved on his face as he watched you approaching the portal to the underworld. The portal to wherever he came from. You should be running away, you should be screaming, repeating prayers after prayers, asking God for help and forgiveness for every sin you had committed in the past. But you didn't, which made his blood boil in anger. No, instead you laughed, shaking your head. Determined to get the place cleaned you did the one thing that kept him away from you, you touched the pentagram. Thus allowing him to finally do what he was so itching to do before, he can finally touch you.

He wanted to kill you, sure, but why not have some fun with you before? Giving up on the idea of making the basement crystal clear, for the circle never faded away and the books all too precious to throw in the bin, you locked up the basement and continued with your life upstairs. You wanted to go back to a normal, routine-like life, but there's something stopping you from that. It's like icy fingers seemed to run up and down your legs every night, hot breath fanning over your face as you tried to shut your eyes close and fall into slumber. It's like eyes followed your every move, burning and looking straight into your soul. And the worse is the hazzy, dizzy feeling you get every time you hoppinto the shower, the smell of burnt caramel, filling your nose, making you ache from the inside as heat flows through your body and straight to your core. Making your eyes roll back as waves of pleasure cam crashing upon you. What was happening? You had absolutely no idea. Though you didn't give up on your dream house, never!

But everything became too much one night. Sleeping tight in your bed, falling into the land of imagination, it's been a while since you had an erotic dream. Red eyes staring back at you, perfectly sharp jawline filling your view, though what was special in this dream was the devil-like horns decorating your dreamy man's head. Standing tall and shiny, dark red contrasting excellently against his sandg blond hair. Skin pale and smooth, patches of red, burnt-like skin patching over his body. Though all these details meant nothing to you. No, it was the cold finger brushing against your legs, parting them as you're fully exposed to his fiery eyes. What a weird dream, right? Oh Y/n, only if you knew.

It's been a while since he had the ability to play with a human body, let alone one so beautiful. One so perfect, aching and arching for him. Seeing you sleeping, with nothing but an oversized shirt, has his mind going wild. He was but a mere demon, he can't contain himself, not when his desire to just wreck you over and over again kept flowing in his blood. Dragging his pointy fingers up and down your legs, making you shiver as he got closer to your heat. Face leaning in hot breath fanning on your lace covered crotch. Taking a look at your face, mouth agape, brows furrowed in pleasure, he knew he had this effect on mortals, but you, you were special.

It's just a dream Y/n! A dream seeming so realistic, it's like someone, or more like him, was really breathing in your scent, face buried between your legs, tongue licking and sucking your soaked panties. It felt so real. All you wanted to do was run your fingers through his hair, and push closer, beg him to just rip your underwear apart and fuck you. It was so real, so good, how can a dream feel like that.

Oh dear Y/n, it's not a dream, no, there really was a man, well no, a demon devouring you, playing tricks on your mind making you think that it's only a hyper realistic dream. "Oh- oh God....." Shaky moan coming out of you, as you pushed your hips forward, begging the demon to just take you already. He was having a lot of fun, roaming in your dreams, making you scream, got him going crazy. Finally listening to your needs, he moved away, earning him a whine as you hand subconsciously traveled down your body, aiming for your lower lips. He was fast though, pulling your panties down and throwing them somewhere in the room, finally giving in and pressing his lips to your skin, sharp teeth nibbling at your inner thighs, covering them in marks. And slowly making his way up, getting so close to the place you need him the most. Trembling as his wet muscle was finally dragging in between your lips, licking and sucking, tongue languidly circling your clit as his eyes looked up, eyebrows knit in pleasure, mouth agape. Slipping down to delve between your slick folds, his hot muscle pressing against your walls, while his nose ever so often brushes against your clit, hot breath fanning over it.

What a dream you were having. Vermillion eyes looking up to you, sharp jawline in your sight, though that meant nothing to you, no what you were drooling over was his horns, rigid and hard, texture making you feel hot, wanting to run your tongue up and down, wrap your hands around them, and pulling him close. And so you did that in real life, hand unconsciously found his horn, gigantic as you held onto it, twisting your hand around it, making the demon growl, sending vibrations right to your core, seeing your back arch off the bed.

Wanting to feel you more, he has ripped your night shirt, with such force it had your breast bouncing. Hand quickly shooting up to have a hold on them. Burning fingers tugging and pulling your nipples away from you, letting go to see your soft skin jiggle. Oh he was having so much fun. Feeling you wriggle underneath him, sign that you were getting close, he started sucking harder, face waving left and right, pushing himself so incredibly close to you. He had to hold your hips to stop you from bucking away from his touch, and just as you were about to cum, he pulled away. Leaving you panting and shaking, whine leaving your lips.

He could fuck you right now, sure. But he wanted to teach you a lesson. Maybe he'll tease you a bit more. Gently turning you, so you're laying on your tummy, grabbing your hips and hoisting your ass in the air. Soft skin, smooth waiting to be spanked. Large palm coming harshly on it, watching it jiggle and starting to redden. Though he wanted more, spitting in your asshole, fingers dipping into your cunt to gather your juice with them, diving his digit inside your tight hole. Feeling your walls flutter around the single finger, head burying deeper into the pillows. Adding another one, stretching you so good as your fingers keep sucking him in, pumping inside of you, earning whine after whine, beg after beg, but that's not what he wanted to hear, no he wanted his name.

Pulling away again before you can drown yourself in pleasure. He saw your body fall, hitting the mattress as he gave himself a few pumps, watching your holes clenching around nothing. Finally having enough with the teasing, he pushed himself in, loving the way your hips immediately began to thrust back at him, thanking his demon powers for not making him cum at the spot. Taking a fist full of your hair, and pulling back, creating the perfect curve of your body. Leaning down, long tongue swiping against your ear shell, for the first time you hear his voice. Deep, and husky, filled with evilness and desire. "If you want me to keep going human, you have to beg for me." Even in your sleeping state, your body responded perfectly to him. Having no idea where that name came from, mind creating it on its own. "Please, please Bakugou, fuck me, break me. I want to feel you so deep inside of me... Oh Bakugou, I'm only at your mercy!" It's all it took him to finally let loose. Pulling away almost completly, only to dig in even deeper, setting a rough, fast pace. Seeing your body rock with every movement of his hips, voice getting increasingly louder, wanton moans filling the room, and probably the whole neighborhood.

And you still think it's a dream? How could you? But all of it felt so magical, so good, too good to be true. Walls clenching around him, hips fast to meet his, as your hands began to tear the soft sheets underneath you. Pulling back at your hair, so you back was pressed on his chest. This new position making him hit the perfect spot inside you, over and over. At this point all that came out of your mouth was his name, repeating it like a prayer. Giving you another few thrusts, setting your body in fire as you finally, for the first time tonight, released, clamping hard around him as his name came out in shaky breaths. Groaning low as he feels you around him, the fluttering of you cunt making his eyes roll back as he presses deep inside you, hot ropes of cum fill you up, painting you walls white.

Pulling out with a hiss, letting your body hit the mattress as he sees his cum dripping out of you, body still shaking from the intense orgasm you had.... If he gets to fuck you like that every night, he really doesn't mind if you keep moving his furniture.

Waking up in the morning, body aching and feeling hot, you looked at yourself, naked and sticky, warm liquid spilling out of you and into the mattress, sheets torn apart and clothes littering the floor. Though what shook you the most was the pentagram burned on your inner thighs, making your whole body shiver, head dizzy as you touch it.... Oh y/n, maybe you should listen to people more often for you are now in big trouble…

#bnha imagines #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #demon au #Smut #Request

668 notes · View notes

alice-dont-break · 4 years ago

Text

hello this is shameless smut pls enjoy!! kinda fluffy and oops sorry idk how to write smut for them without giving ant a little bit of top energy

cw: post-pregnancy body insecurity at first and then just filth

Every Inch | Janthony Smut

When Anthony got home from work, he first found his 6-week old baby sound asleep in the bassinet in the living room. He smiled, but tiptoed upstairs immediately because despite wanting to stare at her cute little face, waking her would be disturbing the rare peace and quiet his wife was surely savoring. When he got upstairs and entered the bedroom, he found a pile of Jasmine’s clothes on the floor and a light on in the bathroom. Intrigued, he peeked his head past the door and laid eyes on the most stunning silhouette he’d ever seen.

Jasmine was standing in front of the mirror, fully undressed, looking over her shoulder at her reflection.

“Wow,” he breathed, getting her attention.

“Oh, hey sorry,” she said. She hugged herself and reached past him for the robe hanging off the door, but he gently caught her wrist. He stepped her away from the door, and took in the delicious sight in front of him.

“Damn, baby, why would you ever say sorry for giving me a look at this work of art. You admiring yourself... can I join?”

“You can stay but I’m not admiring,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. She tried to twist away, but Anthony grasped her other hand.

“Hm?” He didn’t want to push her, but he couldn’t ignore the sadness in her eyes.

“I’m just... I don’t feel sexy anymore. Ever. This is so stupid but I literally made my mom watch bubba for an hour today so I could go to Victoria’s Secret and even with brand new sexy lingerie I felt disgusting. Do I even turn you on anymore? We haven’t done anything since...” Her voice was weak and shaky, and her lips were tightly pursed.

“Baby... baby girl you turn me on like crazy. God, look at you... you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he crooned. “I just didn’t wanna rush or hurt you, but I hate that you aren’t seeing what I see. Can I show you babe?”

Jasmine furrowed her brow, but reluctantly nodded. Anthony then led her by the hand back to the mirror, where he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He nuzzled up to her shoulder as they both looked at her reflection. As Anthony looked her up and down, his eyes smouldered with lust.

“God, where do I even begin,” he groaned. “I mean, the easiest is your face. Your eyes just stun me, whether they’re soft and you’re laughin’ or looking at our baby, or piercing like your mad or tryna rile me up.”

Jasmine’s cheeks had flushed red and she tried to look away, only to be brought back to center by Anthony’s thumb on her chin.

“Your skin,” he continued while caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, “just flawless.”

She leaned into his touch and let a weak smile escape.

“Mmm and your lips, baby,” he smiled. He cupped her chin with his fingers and brushed over her supple lips with his thumb. He was dying to kiss her, but knew once he started he’d never stop, and there was too much more he wanted to say.

“Your hair, your curls... gorgeous through every state of being.” He smiled into the side of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, then nipped at her ear and trailed kisses down her jaw and neck.

“And your neck,” he whispered, sending chills down her spine, “because it lets me get the sexiest moans from you.” Proving his point, he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh, hard enough to melt her without really hurting, and she threw her head back against his shoulder as a soft gasp escaped her parted lips.

He chuckled into her collarbone, and continued exploring her skin with his mouth and hands, covering every inch of her upper back, shoulders, and chest with attention. Jasmine was fully flushed with a little bit of self consciousness, but also awareness of the heat growing between her legs. His hand wandered back down from her shoulders to her waist to pull her back flush against his chest, before roaming back up to cup her breasts.

“God, and these... Jas you know I’ve always been an ass guy, and trust me we’ll get to that, but I’ve never seen anything sexier than these tits ever since you were pregnant. They’re so big... huge... and I love how just a little attention like this,” he mumbled as he circled his fingers around her nipples with a slight pinch, “gets such a reaction... god Jasmine I could spend all day just working your tits.”

As he talked, he was kneading the tender flesh with the palms of his hands and kissing her shoulders, and Jasmine could have sworn she was going to start dripping down her inner thigh. Her buds were pebbled and she writhed under his touch as he brushed over them.

“And baby, I know you’ve been self conscious about this area,” he said more softly, letting his hands slide down her waist and hips to land just where her baby bump had been only a month ago. He peppered kisses to the seam of her neck and shoulder as he rubbed his thumbs over her hip bones. “These curves are a work of art. Your shape is stunning, Jas, it’s so sexy whether you’re a million months pregnant, one week post-baby, or whatever else. I like having something to grab, too, but don’t think I haven’t noticed your abs comin’ back.” he winked with another soft bite to her earlobe and a squeeze around her hips.

Jasmine was leaning against him now with her head thrown back on his shoulder, as his mouth, his raspy voice, his touch all left her trembling. He took his chance to turn her sideways to face him and reached down to grab her ass with both hands.

“God, this ass, baby... ugh it’s just so fucking sexy. The way it’s so perfectly tight and round, especially when you wear them jeans I like, but then bounces when I’m fuckin’ up into you... or when I’m taking you from behind with my fiery handprints all over...”

Anthony was testing his own patience now, and cut himself off with another bite to her shoulder. He gestured for her to jump up and hoisted her so her legs were wrapped around his waist and his hands were gripping her thighs.

“Your legs baby, they’re so strong and toned, and even though you’re short enough to tuck right into my side, they look long and sexy and I just want to mark em all up your inner thighs... show anyone who dares to look at you in a tight lil skirt that you’re mine.”

While he spoke, he carried her slowly out of the bathroom and over to the bed. The whole way, she could feel his hardened bulge pressing against her, and was sure there would be a wet patch where her core met his waist.

When he reached the bed, he dropped her down and hovered overtop so he could whisper in her ear. “Now can I show you the next part of you I think is sexy?” He rasped. Jasmine was breathless, and could only nod eagerly. After a chaste peck to her lips, Anthony sank down to rest between her thighs, which he spread open with his hands splayed across her caramel skin.

“Mmm, this pussy,” he growled against the meeting of her leg and her mound, letting the vibration of his words send shockwaves through her already electrified body. “Always so wet and needy for me. God look at you baby, you’re fucking soaked already, hm? All for me?”

Jasmine nodded and moaned a “yes”, as Anthony chuckled.

Slowly, he prodded his tongue to part her folds, and licked a slow stripe all the way up. The sound she made was slow, husky and pained. She was already aching for more. “Your taste, babe, your juices are the sweetest damn taste in the world.”

He continued to take his time, drawing long strokes and tasting every inch of her core, until his tongue started circling her entrance. As soon as it poked inside, her hips bucked, begging for more, though a whimper was all she could muster. He used one finger to gather her juices, then slowly pressed inside.

“So fucking tight, soft walls squeeze me so tight, even when you’re nearly screamin’ and you’re asking if it’s too much, you take me so, so good baby.”

“Another,” she moaned loudly, “please.” Anthony smirked and happily obeyed, adding a second finger to her wetness.

He thrust slowly in and out, before pausing to scissor his digits and feel the stretch of her velvet insides. Her breath hitched with every movement and he wondered how much longer she could last.

“Baby hold it together, I haven’t even gotten to the best part. The sexiest part of this perfect pussy is this adorable little bud,” he grinned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her clit.

“Ant,” she breathed desperately.

“So sweet, so sexy the sounds I can get out of you with just the slightest touch,” he said. Anthony pointed his tongue and started flicking the sensitive area, as his fingers continued to probe deep inside. “Seriously the cutest little thing I’ve ever played with.”

“Anthony,” she moaned again, her voice growing more ragged and hungry with his every move.

“Mhmm baby... and the sexiest thing of all, my love, is how you look when you come undone.”

He heard the faintest gasp escape her lips, so with a final smirk he wrapped his lips around her swollen bud and suckled lightly as he curled his fingers deep inside her. With his free hand, he reached up and rolled her hard nipple between his fingers, as her moans became more like screams. Within seconds he felt her soft walls tighten around his fingers, and her thighs lift up off the bed.

“Ant I’m gonna... I’m gonna...”

“I’ve got you,” he purred, “come for me, princess. I’ve got you.”

Jasmine fell apart. Every sliver of tension that had been building for the past two months came undone as a wave of fire ravaged her senses. Her back arched and her head flopped back with a loud and luscious sigh, as her pussy fluttered around Anthony’s fingers. He continued gentle kitten licks to her most sensitive area as his fingers lazily moved to ride her through her high. Suddenly, Jasmine felt a massive release and Anthony felt a flood wash over his fingers and chin. He was entranced by the effect he had on her body, continuing to press with his fingers, and let his tongue roam downward to taste her juices, until Jasmine was fully limp beneath him.

When he was certain there were no more aftershocks to rock her, he pressed a final kiss to her warmth and climbed back up to hover over her face. With both hands cupping her cheeks, he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

“Did I...” she asked timidly between heavy pants. Her cheeks were flushed red, and Anthony added to their warmth with soft, wet kisses.

“Squirt? Yep,” he smirked, obviously proud of the new level of pleasure he’d unlocked for her. “That was new... and maybe the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Ant that... that was... oh my god.... i need to...” As she struggled to form sentences, she seemed to be making a move to repay the favor, but Anthony just put a firm hand on her shoulder.

“You aren’t going anywhere, babe,” he teased. “You look so utterly fucked out that I’m genuinely worried you may have trouble walking all week despite not actually having had a cock inside you.”

Jasmine’s eyes were still slightly rolling to the back of her head, so Anthony just chuckled at her grumbles and gave her a chaste kiss. “Stay here, love, gonna get you a cloth. You’re literally soaked in your own cum.”

“Later... show you lingerie... s’new,” she murmured.

“Whenever you’re ready love, but not before a nap. Besides, as excited as I am to see it, I don’t know how you could possibly get any sexier.”

Instead of protesting as she did earlier, she looked up at Anthony with a faint, adorable little smile that warmed his heart.

When he got back from the bathroom only twenty seconds later, Jasmine’s eyes were closed with her mouth hanging open just slightly. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how absolutely worn out she was, so he just let her sleep. As the mother of a six-week old baby, she needed it with or without a mind-blowing orgasm. After using the warm cloth to wipe down her thighs and through her folds, he grabbed a blanket to drape over them as he laid on his side and pulled her close. With a quick glance at the baby monitor to ensure the little one was continuing to cooperate with his unplanned mission, he leaned his forehead against her temple and peppered little kisses to her cheeks as her heavy breath lulled him into a trance. He rubbed the soft skin at her waist as he kept pulling her tighter into his side, and focused on giving her all his warmth, comfort and attention, with the hope that she’d be at least slightly coherent again when she woke up.

#my fics

45 notes · View notes

xxrainbow-princessxx · 4 years ago

Text

Firm Hand, Soft Heart - Leo x Isabella (N*FW, 🍋)

This fic is for Day 1 of the CFWC Kinktober Challenge

Day 1: Brat Taming | First Time | Aftercare

The words used in bold are included in this fanfic. Please only read if you are comfortable with the subject matter and also you are 18+. PSA completed.

TW: In this fic we will be discussing brat taming, punishment, sub drop and aftercare.

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy @itslaniquelove @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30 @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @choicesficwriterscreations

All under the jump!! ❤️❤️

“You got this big guy...” Liam patted his brother’s shoulder, “I didn’t think she would show... But you’ve always had her wrapped around your little finger anyway...” Leo flashed a bright smile to his brother chuckling, “I’m not so sure about that... before, maybe...” Isabella and Leo hadn’t spoken in weeks after she saw him being snapped by the paparazzi with a statuesque blonde Swedish model draped around him in a nightclub in Monaco, “...but now, I’m not so sure...” Liam gave the Crown Prince a knowing look as he laughed heartily, “You can handle her... Isabella doesn’t listen to reason and seemingly... neither do you...” The brothers watched attentively as the Crown Princess’ thigh high louboutin boots clicked across the marble flooring, surrounded by guards and her father’s advisors in step. Leo winced slightly as his eyes followed her petite frame analysing every curve whilst she walked past in a short black bodycon dress. Isabella’s long chestnut brown hair had been straightened out, bouncing and flowing down her back only added to her polished look. Biting down on his lip, he knew he needed something to help him calm down; she looked good.

Leo’s brow raised as he threw back his measure of Cordonia’s finest apple brandy, warming his chest as the fiery liquid quelled his anxieties. He hated negotiations, he hated having to host anything but Constantine demanded it and knowing that Isabella being there would be difficult in more ways than one, knowing she would bust his balls when given the chance just to test him. Constantine insisted on the meetings, he wanted Cordonia to be put on the map, he wanted the neighbouring Kingdom’s to know that Cordonia was open for business. What Leo didn’t anticipate was the Laurentian Princess’ arrival, swearing blatantly after their last argument she would never step foot in Cordonia again. It didn’t matter that Leo apologised, sent flowers or jewellery, the Princess didn’t want to know returning everything with a delightful note telling him to ‘Fuck off...’ along with anything he sent. Watching the Princess storm through the Cordonian Palace glaring at anyone who looked in her direction, Leo turned to Liam, “Well brother...” barely managing a carefree smile, Leo ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, “Wish me luck!”

Leo wasn’t in the mood for any of this, let alone having to deal with the petite brunette’s wicked temper as an addition to his roster of duties. The Laurentian Crown Princess stepped in for her father as a last minute change to his schedule and no matter how much she protested, Isabella knew that she would have to bite the bullet. If it was going to be painful for her, she most certainly wasn’t going to make it easy for Leo. Isabella sat in the drawing room, her lips pursed as her dark chocolate brown eyes glared towards the clock, he was late and he was wasting her time once again. Her eyes narrowed, rolling across to the right as the door finally opened with Leo smiling as if nothing happened pulling on the sleeves of his crisp white shirt fixing his cufflinks, “Good afternoon...” he warmly greeted those in the room, almost chuckling noticing Isabella folding her arms remaining in her seat, “Good to see you Princess...” he teased, sitting opposite her, “The pleasure is not reciprocated...” huffed the brunette, “You’re late...” she bluntly added before pushing forward a list of considerations. Leo’s sea green eyes initially met hers. He tried not to notice the golden speckles of honey that glittered in her irises, accentuated by the sunshine coming through the windows flooding the drawing room with light. Isabella didn’t speak as Leo unfolded the page passed to him, the less she had to speak to him, the better.

Momentarily Leo broke eye contact with Isabella to read her demands. Leaning back on his chair, the Crown Prince bit down on his lower lip chuckling, “Are you trying to insult me? I’m afraid it’s not working...” Isabella rolled her eyes and with a heavy sigh she snapped, “The last time I checked... the world doesn’t revolve around you Señor Rys...” Leo laughed to himself, running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair before he glared at the petite Princess, his voice lowering, laced with authority, “I’ll remind you, that in my Kingdom - it does...” Isabella’s almond shaped eyes slowly narrowed with disgust, Snapping “Fuck you!” to the surprise of their advisors, “Your Royal Highness...” they began to panic, “You... you...” before turning to Leo, “We can only...” Leo stared at Isabella. As she raised her dark, arched brow, Leo knew this wasn’t playing politics for her, this was payback. She was acting up on purpose. The Crown Prince noticed a barely noticeable flicker of delinquency in her eyes, knowing that the petite brunette was getting off on the struggle of power. Sucking in his cheeks, Leo commanded “Can you give me a moment alone with the Crown Princess? Everyone else... out!” Their advisors looked at one another but as the tension grew in the room between the Royals, they finally agreed. “Yes... we’ll reconvene once you both are ready...”

Leo stood as she glared angrily at Isabella, walking across the desk towards her. Purposely Leo kicked the chair that Isabella was sat on, causing her to angrily rise to her feet. The Laurentian Princess raised her hand but Leo held onto her wrist. She watched as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, turning from a sea green to a sparkling emerald. Leo’s voice deepened to a guttural growl, “If you’re going to act like a brat... I’ll treat you like a fucking brat...” his index finger traced her jawline, titling her chin to face him, their eyes locked onto one another, “Or are you going to be a good little kitten and behave?” Isabella pulled her face away as Leo began to smile, “Not the answer I was looking for beautiful...” His fingers traced the side of her neck feeling her breathing hitch slightly, he knew he had her. No matter what he had done, Isabella couldn’t help herself; Leo knew the petite brunette acted out to fuck with men but would submit easily when the attention she wanted came at a price. Carefully, Leo placed his hand around her neck with a very slight pressure as Isabella barked back, “Make me...” She was pushing all of Leo’s buttons but she wasn’t going to win. Not today. He leaned down whispering into her ear, “You want to say that again?” His voice demanded an answer, “Look at me and say it...” the Blonde Cordonian grunted.

Isabella could feel a shiver go down her spine, as the Crown Prince of Cordonia spoke, she knew exactly what she was doing as she looked up into Leo’s eyes with a coy smile, repeating herself, slowly emphasising her words, “Make... me...” almost taunting him into disciplining her. Leo chuckled as his hand rested on her waist, “Kitten...” he began to smile, “You know I’ll fuck the brat out of you if you don’t behave...” Isabella raised her brow in defiance with a coy smile scoffing at the thought but Leo wasn’t in the mood for her bullshit. Spinning the petite Princess around, she let out a squeal as Leo bent her over the table, his hands caressed her back until his fingers entangled through her hair, twisting it as his strong, muscular frame lay against her back, pinning her against the oak table. Leo kissed her neck slowly, lips barely brushing against her skin, whispering so only she could hear, “You know I still love you kitten... don’t you?” Isabella whimpered as Leo’s hands followed the curve of her body, “Talk to me beautiful...” her core was yearning for the Crown Prince’s touch as Leo put Isabella in her place. Leo discovered quite early into their relationship that Isabella had a power play kink. The Princess found control a turn on - very few dared to ever challenge her authority and she tested most men’s patience to an inch of tolerability but Leo knew if he could tap into that want; that need - she would make a very willing little after all of the brattish behaviour was firmly dealt with.

Underneath it all, Leo knew that all Isabella wanted was to be loved for her, to feel safe and someone to take the burden of control away. “Sí...” she purred as Leo tightened his hold, “Yes... what?” Isabella turned her head to look at Leo and with a smile, she cooed, “Sí... por pavor...” with a flutter of her eyelashes, Leo bit down on his lower lip, the hand he used to caress her ass, he raised it, striking her with a sharp smack. “How many demands did you have?” Leo growled as he pulled the hem of her dress up, exposing her lower half and little black lace thong. “Seven...” The word barely passed her ruby red plump lips before Leo’s hand connected with her bare ass cheek, rolling her eyes as she purred. “Count!” Leo barked as Isabella’s chest heaved, “One...” “Two...” Leo’s fingers danced across her aching clit, “Kitten... you are so fucking wet...” “Three...” “Four...” Leo could only lick his lips with anticipation as Isabella was compiling, savouring her submissiveness as she stood there in her black thigh high boots with her red marked ass wiggling in the air. “Five...” Effortlessly he unbuckled his suit trousers, his erection throbbing, struggling to break free. As his trousers to his ankles, Leo pressed the tip of his cock against her wetness, pushing in deep on the first thrust. Isabella groaned as her pussy stretched, encapsulating and accommodating his full length. Gripping onto her hips, Leo wasted no time thrusting harder each time as the petite Princess gasped, reaching out aimlessly to hold onto the table, her ruby red manicured nails tried helplessly to dig into the table to hold onto something.

Leo clenched his teeth, he was nearly there. As his nostrils flared, he groaned loudly, immediately pulling out as he felt Isabella’s walls starting to contract around him, “Turn Around!” he barked with his deep voice, “Get on your knees beautiful...” Isabella pushed herself off of the table as her doe like chocolate brown eyes looked up at the Crown Prince. Hungrily, Leo pulled her close to him, roughly kissing Isabella until she felt almost breathless, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth to allow the moment to linger. Just because he was dominating her didn’t mean that Leo didn’t show his romantic side. He did love her and wanted to fulfil her every need. It was important for him to show Isabella he cared, not all of this was one-sided. Stumbling, the Princess stepped back before lowing herself onto her knees still with her dress pulled up around her waist, not once breaking eye contact. Taking Leo’s thick, hard pulsating member into her hand, she opened her mouth allowing her tongue to taste and tease his length. Leo entangled his fingers through her hair as he bucked his hips back and forth pushing his cock further into her throat. “That’s it...” praising the petite brunette, “You feel so good...” as he encouraged her to take more.

Isabella began to choke but Leo held her in place so she could get used to the sensation. Pulling her head back slightly, Leo grinned as she fluttered her long dark eyelashes up towards him, taking him willingly in her mouth. With a groan, Leo’s eyes narrowed, he could no longer hold back as his warm cum flowed freely down the petite brunette’s throat. Isabella stayed in place as her tongue once again slowly licked up and down Leo’s thick shaft dutifully lapping up any excess. Reaching out to take her hand, Leo helped Isabella up to her feet, pulling her close to him. Picking her up like a doll, Leo pinned the Laurentian beauty to the closest wall he could find, his lips peppering kisses along her neck, “I’ve missed you kitten...” Isabella pressed her head against Leo’s as they kissed once another sensually. Her eyes burned with desire and with a coy smile she teased “So much for counting to Seven...” Leo with a smirk set the Princess back down onto her feet walking back to his desk. Sitting down he smiled to himself watching as Isabella pulled down her dress, “Not so fast beautiful... you gotta earn those last two...”

Pouting, Isabella sat down fixing her makeup wiping away her running mascara and smudged lipstick as if nothing ever happened whilst Leo called the advisors back in. With a smile he ripped up Isabella’s demands, sending the torn pieces into the air, “We’ve agreed on Cordonia using Laurentian ports to export our goods...” Isabella’s eyes widened in horror, their advisors stepping in, “But Your Royal Highness... we can’t allow...” Leo stared at Isabella as he picked up a pen handing it to her, “Well Princess... if you want the remainder, you need to sign...” her advisors looked at one another but the Laurentian Princess never spoke. Did she broker a deal? Isabella looked up towards Leo, his glare made her feel almost giddy as she reached out for the pen immediately doing as she was told. After signing the request, Leo winked at her, “Good...” he smiled, “Now if you’ll excuse me...” he pushed his chair out, “I have an evening engagement to prepare for...” walking off, he turned to face Isabella with a devilish smile, “I’ll see you at Seven Your Royal Highness, I think you’ll quite enjoy tonight’s festivities...” Isabella sat with her hands carefully on her lap watching as Leo disappeared into the hallway.

Taking a moment, Isabella’s cheeks blushed, relishing that she was going to be somehow rewarded and painfully wanted those two extra smacks so badly. The Crown Princess knew she had made a deal with the devil, her head screaming at her to stop but Isabella’s heart drowned out all logic; she was good, she did as she was told. Quietly, the petite brunette rose to her feet, mumbling to her guards as she began to wander off, “I... excuse me...” towards the designated room she was given in the Palace. Immediately, the Princess wasted no time removing all of her clothing as a rush of sadness lay heavy upon her chest. Turning the controls of the shower, Isabella blinked back unexplainable tears. She was scared, she had never felt so alone. The water above her began to trickle down her petite frame, stinging her skin with each red hot droplet. Isabella lowered herself down onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest making herself as small as she could. She felt shameful, horrified at what just happened. Leo took her and then without a second thought brushed her off as if nothing really happened.

“Excuse me...” Leo turned, his conversation with a group of nobles interrupted, “Excuse me Your Royal Highness...” finding it strange that one of Isabella’s advisors would want to speak with him directly, “May I have a moment of your time?” Leo was ready to dismiss him, he’d had enough politics talk for a lifetime but the look of uncertainty and worry on the advisors face told him not to. “Yes...” he moved away from the group, so they were out of earshot, “Can I help you?” The advisor slowly sighed, “I know I am out of line to ask... but... did something happen when you spoke to the Crown Princess?” Leo’s brow raised in question. Fuck, did he hear something? Trying to hide his shock, he tried to laugh it off, “Whatever do you mean?” Shaking his head, the advisor sighed, “She just didn’t seem herself afterwards at all... Her Royal Highness didn’t really speak...” Leo’s sea green eyes narrowed as he looked around the crowd but he couldn’t see her anywhere, “Ok...” Leo nodded, patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks for letting me know...” with a gracious warm smile he continued, “Let me see if I can find her, I think she said she had a headache earlier... please...” he gestured towards the trays of champagne and canapés passing through, “Enjoy the rest of your stay...”

Leo knew what room Isabella was in, he chose it especially for her away from all of the other guests. He knocked on the door but there was no answer before trying the handle. Opening the door slowly and quietly, he heard the sound of the shower and Isabella whimpering. Leo’s eyes widened in horror, not knowing what he would find. “Isabella!” He shouted, scrambling to remove his dinner jacket before entering the bathroom. Squinting through the steam filled room, Leo could barely see her until he reached in to switch off the water allowing the dense haze dissipated. Isabella raised her head, her cheeks stained with black kohl liner and mascara. “Kitten...” Leo cooed, immediately reaching out for a towel, wrapping it around her as she sat motionless, “It’s ok...” Isabella didn’t speak as she averted her gaze from him, closing her eyes to hide from the humiliation. Leo began to remove his clothing before sitting down beside her with a towel wrapped around his waist. Leo coaxed the Princess into a cuddle and gently placed kisses on the top of her head “Beautiful...” he whispered as she sat behind her, holding the petite brunette tightly against his chest, “Just tell me what you need...” Isabella dug her nails into his strong arms, holding Leo as tightly as she could. His voice was always her favourite sound, she needed to be held, needed to be told everything was going to be ok.

“Wh... what’s happening?” she quietly stuttered, completely unsure of herself. Leo cleared his throat, his heart filled with guilt and remorse, “I’m so sorry kitten... This is my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should have stayed, I should have fucking noticed...” Leo intertwined his fingers with hers whilst carefully and strategically placing kisses on the side of Isabella’s shoulder. Leo mumbled as he pressed his lips against her olive, sun kissed skin, “You know how amazing you are? You know I won’t let anything bad ever happen... I promise” Isabella’s body shaking in his arms as she began to slowly come around. She tilted her head slightly to look up at Leo and under all the running mascara, her dark chocolate brown eyes exposed her exhaustion. Placing his lips against hers, Leo kissed the Laurentian Princess slowly, his thumb gently caressed her cheek as his fingers cradled her jaw. With his next breath, Leo whispered, “I love you so much...” with a caring smile, he began to chuckle, “Let’s get you ready for bed beautiful...” carefully he rose to his feet, bringing the petite brunette with him. Removing the towel he put around her, Isabella and Leo quickly washed themselves before drying off and getting under the covers of the Super King Size bed that immersed the Princess’ petite frame.

Leo held Isabella as close as he could, staring into her eyes he tenderly smiled. With his thumb, he removed the last smudge of mascara that stained her cheek, “No one should ever make you cry... especially not me...” he swallowed hard as Isabella bit down on her lip, “Can you ever forgive me?” Isabella nodded tiredly before placing her head against his chest and in moments, she finally relaxed, falling asleep. Leo lowered his voice as he placed a kiss onto the crown of her head, “I’m not going anywhere kitten...” and no matter how many times his cell phone buzzed, he hung up or ignored the call, this was more important. He would deal with the consequences later with Constantine but Isabella was his priority. She slept for around an hour and wakening to Leo’s strong, muscular arms around her. With a chuckle, Leo gave the Crown Princess a playful squeeze, “Welcome back sleepy head...” Isabella’s eyes widened, placing her hand on his ripped chest, “What time is it?! You shouldn’t be here... Your father...” Leaning down, Leo began to kiss her softly with a smile, “The only thing you needed to be concerned about was 7pm... Constantine will be fine...” Isabella raised her brow, “Ready for what? Did you not say earlier you have an evening engagement?” The confusion across her face made Leo laugh, “You are my evening engagement... I was planning to take you to dinner, then kiss you here... here and maybe here for dessert...” he teased, “...and depending on how gorgeous you look when we are going out later, I’ll tear up our little agreement we made earlier...” It didn’t matter whether she was dolled up from head to toe, or if she had been crying with most of her makeup running down her face, Leo always thought she was gorgeous - Isabella just had to believe what he saw.

#CFWC kinktober #choices #leo x isabella #n*fw #🍋#the royal romance #prince leo #playchoices #choices fanfiction #choices the royal romance #queen isabella #royal romance au #playchoices fanfiction

32 notes · View notes

eyeslikefoxglove · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 21 - The PTSD is strong with this one & we need more braincells

Hello hello! Welcome to the commentary. How’s everyone? I’m frozen solid because it’s mid-June in Spain and yet we had 11°C yesterday. Fucking awesome!

I AM NOT WEARING MASCARA SO I CAN CRY ALL I WANT. I DONT KNOW IF THATS GOOD OR BAD THO.

Can I just take a second to appreciate how much this big strong powerful men emote? I mean, I know this isn’t western media where the tough guy can’t show emotions, and I don’t know that eastern media has the same hangups about men emoting but just... it’s so refreshing.

Huaisang bb you’re so sweet.

Oh, oh the PTSD is strong with this one.

Also, bless both JC and NHS, they absolutely noticed WWX flinch and, in their own ways, went and steamrolled over it so WWX wouldn’t feel scrutinised.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO INFORM YALL THAT I GOT A KITTEN ON MY LAP. (She’s kneading my boob, which, ow, but...)

*BICHEN GRIIIIIIIP*

How do y’all think the guards go deliver bad news to WRH? Like do they paper-rock-scissor it? Draw straws?

NMJ did you have to?

And once again I wonder what would’ve happened if JFM had let sect leader Yao kick it.

Ughvhfnevus it’s this clown. Same as with Su She, if you see a bunch of screaming it’s just me not wanting to listen to Jin ZiXun.

The Nies: let’s throw a banquet to honour WWX’s return

Every asshole there: *gossips about WWX while in the room with him*

Once again I wish I could transmigrate (and speak mandarin lol) and just start delivering tongue lashings.

Listen, I have no idea how to play Guqin, but I did play the guitar for years and even from here I can see how much YiBo’s hands don’t match the melody. Nothing against him but why does this always happen? I know they got classes, so was the music not written by that time or something? Because one thing is not hitting the correct notes, another is plucking slow notes when the tempo is much faster.

JC: Since yours and LWJ’s unhappy separation...

My dumbass: do you mean breakup? *eyebrow waggle*

You will pry my “JC knows his brother is pinning after LWJ, he probably doesn’t want to know anything else” hc out of my cold dead hands thankyouverymuch.

WWX: *spouts a bunch of misdirection to avoid giving JC a straight answer*

JC: Bull-fucking-shit.

Should I count how many times WWX PTSDs all over the place or would you like me to leave your hearts intact? That’s two so far.

Ok ok, I feel that, if someone with a bit less trauma and a bit of insight (NHS maybe?) had seen the bit where ChenQing fucking hurts Shijie thing would’ve gone differently. I mean, yes, LWJ keeps warning WWX that this shit is gonna fuck him up, but as I said in my previous commentary LWJ also has the communication skills of a hermit crab so that wouldn’t work, and JC would be too wound up and WWX too busy trying to conceal his lack of golden core for that conversation to go anywhere. But if someone who WWX knows is a good egg (I’m not gonna say trusts bc paranoia) had sat him down and told him “your new instrument that you use for your new form of cultivation just hurt the person you love most please be careful when you use it.” I think it would’ve worked wonders towards his health overall.

I know Shijie says it’s like Zidian, but she’s not working with the fact that this thing is made for and by the Dark Side of the Force and I’m sorry but I can’t help but see ChenQing as a bit of a horrocrux almost. Or like, if you like me think the Burial Mounds is an Entity, something that’s a bit more sentient that it lets on.

Speaking of reputations and NHS being a good egg, I have oh-so-many ideas (I won’t say plot bunnies because I can’t write for shit) in which NHS for Reasons (time-travel? Letter from the future? His massive brain?) realises just how much damage WWX is doing to his public image. And he might be a sheltered dandy, but he saw what being the son of a sex worker did to Meng Yao despite how hard he worked (I’m assuming he doesn’t know about the whole betrayal business). This is way fucking worse, like hell is he going to let one of his best friends paint a target on his back. So he pulls back his sleeves, engages his slytherin brain and proceeds to lay down a plan to throughly destroy WWX’s reputation as a powerful genius.

I’m guessing LWJ and JC protest, and maybe WWX, and NHS just hits them with “do you want him respected or alive?” And they shut tf up. He glues himself to WWX, and brings up as many instances in which their behaviour can be compared as he can (we got drunk and punished at cloud recesses, we slept in class, we skipped to go fishing, I don’t carry my sword either). And, because assholes be assholes, people like Sect Leader Yao or Clown Cousin are quick to start spouting their own derogatory bullshit and thus WWX the untamed powerful prodigy dies a fiery death. Now he’s just a mouthy kid with a quick mind that “does tricks instead of battle” (I’ll never get bored of using that Thor quote). I also like to think that people who personally know WWX and are not pieces of shit go give NHS a tongue lashing for messing with what they thought was his friend, NHS takes that as a test of good eggness and bring them into the plan. Soon the whole Cloud Recesses class is swearing up, down, left, right and centre that all the shit WWX has ever successfully pulled is just an insane amount of luck and quick thinking.

I don’t know how would they work him into the battlefield (disguise? Mask?) to unleash his demonic cultivation but that’s Plot and I don’t do that.

Also, because I’m a terrible human being I want to say that people assume LWJ is on “pretty but useless” WWX like white on rice because *insert derogatory comment about being good in bed and sexual favours*. Because y’all know the assholes here are Like That. And WWX is horrified because holy fucking shit he’s gonna drag LWJ’s reputation down, he can’t have people thinking HGJ is ok with having him as a concubine pretty much. But before he can act LWJ politely all but confirms that yeah, he’s tapping that, y’all wish you were but he doesn’t share and none of y’all are good enough for his Wei Ying anyway. CUE FAKE/PRETEND RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I AM INDEED TRASH FOR THAT TROPE.

Muahahahaha y’all thought I was gonna devolve into my personal hcs and not include my fave trope? Shouldn’t y’all know me better by now?

(Btw I like this bit ^ so I might polish it a little and post it separately as well, just a warning if you find yourself reading an eerily similar post by me)

WuJi is playing and LWJ is pining so much. Also, if LWJ did not just realise that, just like Yu the Great, WWX had no other option but tame resentful energy I’ll eat my blanket.

I refuse to believe Jiang Yanli didn’t become the unofficial war camp therapist/sounding board/only sane person/everyone’s mum/I just need a hug and a corner to cry in peace. There are not enough fics about Shijie being her gentle BAMF self while in the camp and it’s a pity. My crops are dying y’all!

Also, I will fight anyone who scoffs at Shijie being the epitome of the “gentle woman who cooks and waits for the men to come back from war”. Look at her mum, do you think it is easy for a kid (she was a kid in the flashback when WWX ran away) to see that day in and day out, to have that as a “role model” and decide that she was not going to be like her mum? That she didn’t like what she saw in her so she was going to be kind and gentle? And do you think it is easy for a person barely in their twenties to deal with years of verbal and psychological abuse for again, being gentle and kind, and not grow a hard shell of bitterness to protect themselves? And to keep being gentle and kind while at war, with your parents dead and your siblings unraveling before your very eyes? Shijie is so fucking strong and I love her.

Hey look, the White Walkers!

“Resentful energy is just energy” ok, valid. But my dude, you’ve got black ghost smoke coming out of you and can hear people screaming in your head. I’m not saying it is evil, like someone’s uptight set in his ways arrogant uncle; but it sure as shit ain’t healthy.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s a Clown Cousin scream btw)

Ok ok, just one little thing: IF SOMEONE ELSE CALLS WWX WEI YING AS A SHOW OF DISRESPECT IMMA SCALP THEM.

...are those crows eating that man alive? Yikes on bikes.

(Assume my comment about YiBo’s Guqin playing also goes for Xiao Zhan and his flute. I can’t play the flute but the tempo doesn’t match his fingers)

I’m just gonna say it, I think 3zun (well, 2zun as of now) suspect shit went down badly for WWX, that’s two questions by both of them in a very soft conciliatory tone. They are genuinely interested/worried about the topic, and don’t seem to come off as chiding or judgemental. I mean WWX is a weirdo irreverent kid and they’re sect leaders, they outrank him so much it’s ridiculous. I’m also counting the fact that both their baby brothers like him towards them being so kind. But I also think WWX just triggers all their big brother instincts the second he walks in.

Oh there’s a thought, Shijie, Wen Qing, NMJ and LXC take a look at everyone’s shitty parents and just decide to adopt everyone.

What happened at Yiling was a traumatised teenager (is WWX even 20?) PTSDing all over the place with the Dark Side of the Force whispering in his ear and an all powerful trinket at his disposal. Not saying I approve of all the torture and murder but he clearly isn’t revelling in them.

That is some outstanding bit of big-brothering on LXC’s side and I love it. Also, my dumbass just realised LWJ probably wasn’t quoting WWX when he was being punished (what is white what is black?) I think he was quoting his big brother. Which is magnitudes deep too, but in a different direction and I might love that scene even more.

Ok fuck it, I’m gonna tangent. So I had a terrible boyfriend when I was 15-18. He alienated me from my friends, sunk my self-esteem to the molten core of the earth, tried to convince me my parents were abusive and encouraged (aka threatened manipulated and cajoled) the slow tanking of my high school marks. I have A Problem when I see media where someone latches onto their significant other and everything they are shifts towards that person. Now, love, true genuine love, is powerful, and I believe it can be the catalyst for shifting your world-view for the better. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t have a problem with people sticking with their romantic partner if it is clear their previous “family” is so much shit. I don’t have a problem with LWJ coming out of his shell and defying corrupt precepts because his love for WWX made them see they were wrong, or getting sassy and unrepentant during his punishment (I have a problem with the punishment bc that’s abuse but...). But I do side-eye WangXian being the only thing in their orbit. People need people, and WangXian have other good people around them. So I kind of love that yes, WWX showed him the system was corrupt, but it is the words of his brother he is sticking by to the defy said system.

Let’s go back to our scheduled slew of held pinning glances shall we?

LXC after That awkward run-in: WangJi I wasn’t gone that long, what the fuck did you two oblivious pining idiots do?

(LXC has “bitching” tea sessions with Shijie and you can’t convince me otherwise)

LWJ: *is being dramatic and not knocking on WWX’s door*

Me: oh my god you fucking idiot

Shijie: *walks in*

Me: oh thank god someone with a braincell.

Ah yes, there we go triggering WWX’s paranoia again. Why would he get a break.

OH MY GOD YOU PAIR OF FUCKING IDIOTS. THATS IT, FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT.

@ LWJ: bitch wtf was that? I know you’re shit at talking but have you thought about writing it down? Letters anyone? It worked for mr. Darcy.

(Yes LWJ is mr darcy and now I want an au where LWJ writes WWX letters and just pours everything in them, WWX finds them, any everything is sunshine and rainbows)

While this bullshit fight/misunderstanding is all on LWJ’s shoulders, I’m also going to scream at WWX. Because yes, he is in PTSD hell, but he trusted LWJ before, and yet he can’t get past his perceived notion of LWJ’s character (and his own inadequacies) to trust him again and ask for help. Plus, you know, he thinks he doesn’t deserve he’ll bc *waves hand at WWX’s trauma conga line*

These episodes can’t be good for my BP.

Thanks for reading!

#the untamed #cql #mdzs live action #mdzs #foxglove watches cql #foxglove watches the untamed #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #yunmeng trio #yunmeng siblings #commentary

23 notes · View notes

parkeraul · 5 years ago

Photo

boyfriend — prologue | s.m & t.h

warnings: cursing, smut, angst, drinking.

prologue | part 1

The term that describes exactly what’s in between the boys is quite a mystery.

They’re far from being friends, but they’re also not declared enemies. Well, that’s what Harrison or Brian would probably answer if you ever ask them what’s the problem between your best friends?

Around the college, it’s rare to see them actually arguing or coming for each other by the corridors or in the few classes they have together. But if you want to see things heating up, make sure you attend to the ‘friendly’ football match the guys from the Empshire University every friday after 5pm — when classes are over and the pitch is ready. It sounds childish, just like any regular boyish action if you may, but the atmosphere gets immensely heavier whenever both of them are playing in opposite teams. With that, you cannot say that Tom and Shawn aren’t exactly very similar, actually. Both competitive, both popular among people in college, both intelligent and passionate about art and its different forms. Oh, both annoyingly handsome in a way it gets most of the girls angry for not having a slight chance to trap them up onto a tightrope and call them boyfriend. They both love going to the beach, having two or three bottles of beer and spend the rest of the day watching random sports on the TV when the day is free.

But there are certainly lots of things that drifts one away from the other.

Tom is a golf stan while Shawn is head–over–heels for hockey, for example.

Shawn is a helplessly romantic type of lover, might show up at your door and promise your parents he’ll drop you back home by 9. Long walks by the seashore under the moonlight — after buying you your favourite ice cream and complimenting your beautiful sundress, how amazingly well it fits you and highlights the colour of your skin. Shy touches, random love quotes and mentions of beautiful poems. Talks with you about dreams, about life and family, plans for the future. Wanna know the bands you like and what’s your favourite song ever. ‘Where’s your last name from?’ ‘What’s the class you like the least?’ ‘Do you love what you study?’. Timid & indirect flirting phrases — so he knows if it’s mutual by the way you either melt or step away — and wears his best cologne, hoping it’ll spark something inside of you. Typical Shawn Mendes.

Tom, however, seems to be a lot more direct. If he wants you, he’ll sure let you know — probably through a joke, with a playful tone that carries all the sincerity. Festivals and crowdy — yet cozy — hangouts where you can both have an amazing time. Wants to get to know you better, making sure you know he’s paying attention to every word that comes out of your mouth by the way he looks at you so deeply, eyes shining as his irresistible smirk draws his lips. Laughs and happiness are priorities; soft but assertive touches on your hand as he walks beside you so you can notice he wants to hold hands with you; takes you to watch the city lights and goes crazy with you as your favourite song plays on his car’s radio. Stares at your lips intensely and dies inside whenever you poke your tongue out to lick them. Such a sucker type of lover, but you’ll only find it out if you stay long enough for him to trust you. Will make up dramatic scenes out of random situations to earn a laugh and wave you goodbye at your door, watching you disappear inside as he hopes your perfume is stuck on his cloth. Typical Tom Holland.

In between so many similarities and differences, there’s still a thing that connects Tom and Shawn more than football games and college classes.

Her.

When her frame crosses the rooms, it’s game over for both of them. It’s ridiculous the way that she gets two grown–up men drooling for her effortlessly doing nothing more than just being herself. Call her a liar, but she swears she doesn’t sway her hips more intensely whenever she walks in front one of them. But it doesn’t matter, she could walk steady like a rock and it’d still light up a fire inside their boxers — to avoid saying heart because feelings aren’t part of the deal. It took a good while for her to surrender and stop messing around, finally step up and give them a try. She always found funny the way they’d always try to impress her or melt her heart with their most incredible skills and stronger personality characteristics during the parties, or outside class begging to walk her home — getting nothing more than just her number, and then getting nothing more than a quick single response.

No wonder why Tom enjoys reliving so much the day she finally softened up.

“I’ve never imagined you’d be like this.” “Like what?” Tom asks, moving tortuously slow as his grip strengthens. “Kinky.” She’s smiling so devilishly that he can’t help but do the same, squeezing the back of her thigh as he bends it more until the front part clinges to her boob. Like this, he gets more space to thrust into her deeper while he does his best to move closer, eyes glued on hers and lips brushing together with every push of his. “Does that mean you had wet thoughts about me?” Tom whispers, feeling his mouth tickling hers as he rolls his hips unhurriedly. She gulps, enjoying the sensation of taking him inch by inch easily, once he’s getting soaked by her wetness and it makes his cock slide in and out deliciously. Everything’s so deliberately intense that he can feel her core gradually swelling more, his length completely tightened inside of her warm heat holding him so delightfully. Even in his wildest dream, he’d never pictured this moment so perfectly with her looking so messily gorgeous under him. He’s sure amazed by her beauty, and now it seems to increase more his crush for her, if that’s even possible. She’s taken by surprise, noticing her throat going dry and chills taking over her entire body even though the temperature is hotter than hell. Tom never thought he’d see her weakening, but it’s not only real. It’s also priceless to watch her lips parting and eyes widening softly, pleasure mixing with the awe as he hits her g-spot with a forceful shove — which makes their skin slap together so loudly that it wouldn’t be unpredictable to get a knock on the door soon after. “You’ve never answered my question, darlin’” He says sexily, capturing her bottom lip in between his teeth and sending her another hard stroke. She moans desperately, feeling the knot forming deep back in her pussy already supplicating for relief as it pulsates vigorously. “Fuck, Holland,” Closing her eyes, she exhales sharply and takes a handful of the hair right above the nape of his neck. The other hand flies to his chest, scratching his flesh as it gets embellished by burning stripes of red. The strands of his chocolate hair are already a mess, making him look even more wrecked and sexy and his eyes are so dark that it matches with the atmosphere of the bedroom. “I just—” “Just what?” And the bad thing is that his accent makes it all even worst. It’s impossible for her to resist the unmistakable sound of his voice — so unique and so sweet, but now washing her with desire as his tone falls one or two octaves and becomes low, raspy. Tucked deep inside of her, he makes quick and strong movements, knowing that he’s massaging her sensitive spot mercilessly by the way she starts squirming helplessly. Her moans turn into frantic cries, and Tom follows her because he can’t control himself and because he knows she loves when guys are loud also. He feels his cock throbbing just like her soaked walls around him and her hands instantly grab the headboard, while his fingers release her leg to curl around her throat. “Can’t even form a decent sentence, can ya?” He laughs under his breath and she swears she’s seeing stars beneath her eyelids. “Open your eyes, I wanna see you while I make you squirt all over my cock,” Tom demands, pressuring her throat a little bit more and as soon as she opens her eyes, it’s authomatic: they roll to the back of her head and flutter close again. “Open. Up.”

With a huge effort, she does it lazily and finds his eyes already glancing at her. The moonlight breaking through the window is enough to illuminate their features enough for them to watch each other insanely dissolving in pure pleasure. There’s a glisten of sweat highlighting his defined abs and his hairline just like it’s also showing up on his lips, and she wonders if his tongue never gets tired of licking those pieces of plump skin everytime she clenches around him suddenly. Unexpectedly, Tom kisses her with a fiery craving and proves her wrong. From afar or licking inside her mouth, his tongue won’t ever get exhausted of teasing her. And she’s thankful, because the taste of sex stuck on their lips is insatiable.

“Want to cum?” Tom breaks the kiss to ask through gritted teeth, feeling her gulping underneath his palm and she looks so damn beautiful all fucked like this. But she only nods. And he shoves his dick strongly at a point she thinks she’s never been hit this deep before, consequently letting her jaw fall in a silent scream. “Betta use your mouth before I do.” “Yes, daddy.”

That was such the perfect way to start the summer vacation, and that’s something they both know for sure. The bikini marks on her body contrasting with the rest of her tanned skin would remind her daily of a steamy week on the beach, definitely warmer in bed than on the sand.

But by the end of the hot days — not naughtily speaking this time — the summer rain came to say and brought her a calming mood. A calm someone.

She’s barely audible with the heavy rain pouring outside, drops hitting the ceiling harshly as she shivers totally overpowered. Shawn’s tongue is lapping at her cunt devotedly, massaging her clit carefully, but not less intense at all. He’s savouring her like she’s his last meal, not believing his own eyes and, well, mouth too. It had never ocurred him that she’d taste this sweet and when he tries to reach her eyes, they’re closed and her face is serene. She’s got a defeated smile adorning her pretty face and her chest heavens beautifully, her hips moving delicately towards his wanting lips.

It was hard to adapt herself to the softness at first, considering the feverish beginning of the season. But Shawn knew all too well how to ease her nerves with his skilled mouth, eating her out slow and passionate. She opens her eyes slightly to see Shawn’s lips moulding her pussy smoothly, taking her aching clit into his mouth and he looks like an angel down in there — flushed rosy cheeks under his hazel eyes, completely compelled by the sight of her splayed all over the bed so fucked for his mouth sucking on her now. Letting out a louder whimper, she takes his curls in between her fingers and rolls her hips provocatively. It obviously sparkles something inside his briefs and inside him, which leads Shawn to put one of her legs above his shoulder and circle her entrance with the tip of his forefinger.

“Please, Shawn,” She begs under her breath, immersed in pleasure as her pussy swells under his control. “I need more.”

And he can’t even pretend he wants to deny such a graceful requirement.

In seconds, he inserts his finger all the way until it’s disappeared inside of her. He watches closely, forgetting to lick her purposely so he won’t miss this amazing moment.

“More, baby.”

He pushes the finger back and replaces it with his middle finger. She thinks he might’ve probably understood it wrongly, but it’s just pure care. He alternates fingers, one by one thrusting inside her soaked heat individually and she’s in the merge of losing her mind for fucks sake. Every move is too much and she’s not sure how long she can wait.

When she considers sitting up to take the goddamn control, Shawn shoves the two fingers in a swift movement, making her back arch and a cry escape past her lips. This makes him smile, and he pumps the fingers with a certain strength as it gradually increases the wet sounds filling up the room. Every shove echoes throughout the space with smacking sounds and if she had ever felt her legs before, she doesn’t even remember. They’re trembling unstoppably as his mouth goes back on her sensitive bud, applying a heavier suction and flicking it with his tender, wet tongue.

“Gon’ make you cum so good for me,” Shawn mutters against her, eventually switching from suctions to licks — from licks to suctions — from suctions to kisses — from kisses to pumps. “So fuckin’ pretty taking me this well, eh?”

And a lifetime would never be sufficient for him to compliment her enough. Even though he’s speechless to the view of her tanned body shaking more and more as she gets closer to her so–wanted high.

The thing though is that none of them had a single idea of what happened before the college days were back. And it’s true that the walls do have ears. Well, not all walls are made of concrete or bricks. Sometimes they’re ginger and tall, sometimes they’re blonde with blue eyes and a british accent.

“Dude,” Haz elbows Tom as he holds his beer still. “Don’t you think that there’s something wrong?” “Nah,” Tom scoffs, taking a sip of his drink as they both watch her on the dance floor of Eryka’s party. By dance floor, it means large living room filled to the raftors. “She said ‘no strings attached’, so what? All the beginnings are fucked like this.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders like he’s got nothing to worry about. “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout this,” Harrison says close to his friend’s ear and Tom follows his sight when he tilts his head back, catching the sight from all the way across the room. “A blue little bird told me she’s been seeing someone else too.”

“If you keep staring they’ll know we’re talking about him,” Brian jokes, taking a single mouthful of his tequila shot. “So what?” Shawn asks absentmindedly, toying with the empty beer bottle hanging in between his long fingers. “Maybe I’ll ask him to join us on some beer pong shit and finally check if what you said is true.” “Wait, I didn’t say anything,” The ginger lifts his open hands in defeat. “Osterfield told me that. He could easily be fooling around.” “Guess we’ll have to see, right?” This time, Shawn laughs. Maybe he doesn’t believe it at all. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it might be true.

In between, there’s Eryka dancing with her to the beat of the music as she notices the fixed glare of the guys switching between her to each other. “Don’t you wanna clear this up for these guys?” Eryka asks, grabbing her phone to check a message as she takes the last gulp of her drink. “You know what do I really want?” She responds with another question, feeling the alcohol shoot some dirt and honesty to her intentions. “Hm?” “I want to suck him,” She comes closer to her friend and points to the left. “While he fucks me.” Pointing now to the right, she winks at Eryka and takes the empty cup from her hand, walking to the kitchen and hoping to be stalked by a very specific british guy and a very specific canadian boy.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀: @lostinspidey — @goldenmndes — @shawnsunflower — @jawnjendes — @itrocksmysocks — @emilyxkate — @itrocksmysocks — @tell-me-when-ur-ready

let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

#shawn mendes #tom holland #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #shawn mendes serie #shawn mendes series #tom holland serie #tom holland series #mine #ficsofmine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #shawn mendes and tom holland

240 notes · View notes

salted-barbed-wire · 5 years ago

Text

The Devil May Care

Chapter Nine

Summary: “Here come my demons Out of the shadows All cloaked and daggers And poison arrows Hell bent with weapons Of self destruction Whispering kisses Serpentine seduction” Word Count: 2217

Prelude Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven Chapter Eight

I opened my eyes to shadows dancing around my room. I sat up, feeling a little dizzy, before realizing that I was surrounded by a dozen or more candles lit.

“You’re awake, finally.” I turned to see Aleister leaning against the wall in front of my bed. “And you got all dressed up for me.

My eyes went to my body. Gone were my cupcake and hello kitty pajama and in their place, was a silk and lace slip. “How-?”

Before I could finish the question, Aleister was on top of me, his mouth devoured mine. A small voice in the back of my head begged me to pull away, but I couldn’t. I pulled him down to the bed with me, our lips tasting each other. I inhaled a familiar scent. His hand slid up the end of my nighty. Fingers finding their way to my heat. I only broke the kiss to gasp at the sensation of his touch. Alesiter kissed and nipped along my neck, biting hard on my shoulder before moving farther down my body. His thumb rubbed circular motions over my clit, making my hips buck against his hand. I closed my eyes as his tongue drug across my perked nipple.

“So eager,” he whispered against my flesh. “I didn’t realize I left you with so much want, princess.”

My eyes snapped open, “What?”

Aleister has never used that pet name for me. It’s always ‘snojepe, this’ or ‘little snojepethat’. Princess? Finn called me Princess…

I looked down to see black eyes staring up at me with a mocking smile.

“Smart little girl.” Finn laughed.

I screamed, but he covered my mouth, forcing me back down onto the bed. “Ah, ah, ah, princess. You were the one that invited me up here, remember?”

I felt tears stinging at my eyes. He has control.

“I do,” Finn responded to my thoughts. “You said it yourself after we made our little deal, you’re mine.” I whimpered, squirming under his body. “Now, now, I may be evil, but I want you to want it.” He whispered in my ear. “It will be so much more thrilling to hear you beg for it.”

He uncovered my mouth to finally let me speak. “I will never-“ I began.

“Never say never,” Balor laughed. “You wanted it when I was wearing the Devil’s mask. Perhaps you’d let me ease some of that tension if I put it back on?”

He morphed back into Aleister before my eyes. His eyes were still Balor’s black color, but the rest of him was the spitting image of Aleister completely naked.

“It doesn’t matter what mask you wear, Balor, I will not give myself to you physically.” I spit in his face.

Balor chuckled, “So fiery. No wonder he gets a hard on thinking about you. If I were him, I’d jump at the chance of tying you down, giving you a good blindfold and ball gag before having my way with you.” His words in Aleister’s voice gave me chills. My cunt was still wet and was only aching more from the thought of what the Devil could do to me. “Tell me, princess, have you tempted the Devil? Have you tried to have him in your bed yet? He’d be so jealous if he could see us now.”

I refused to look at him, thinking about Aleister and I shamelessly flirting with each other not hours before.

“Oh?” Balor smirked. “You have! Did he deny you?” Balor freed me, moving between my legs. “Did he leave you wanting?” Balor’s arms hooked under my thighs, bring his words close my core. I looked down, only seeing Aleister’s face. No more black eyes, just Aleister’s staring at me, locked on mine. “This is your dream, love. Would you like me to indulge your fantasies?”

I whimpered. The warmth of his breath rocked me. Fuck.“No, please.”

“No?” He sat up. “You’re lucky, princess. We still require permission to possess or enter mortals like you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had a chance to protest.”

I scooted my body out of reach from him, “You didn’t just come here to mess with me, did you?”

“Aye, you’re right.” Balor turned back into himself, sitting cross-legged on my bed, “We need to plot and plan.”

My eyes rolled. “Can I maybe change for this?”

His gaze wandered my frame. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing, princess.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together and glared at him before wrapping the blankets around me to cover my exposed skin.

Finn laughed heartily. “Oh, Jackie. It’s your dream. You can control most of it.”

“Great, time to wake up.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” He wiggled a finger at me. “I said most of it. I control when you wake up and my astral form will follow you wherever you go.”

I sighed, “Fine. So, how do I-“

Finn shrugged, leaning back against one of my bed posts. “You could always just strip down for me.”

I glared at him before remembering how Aleister conjured matter from thin air. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and snapped my fingers. When I opened my eyes, I was in jeans and a hoodie. Safe.

“Too safe. Wearing anything in under that hoodie? What kind of panties you wearing under those jeans?”

“Would you shut up?” I growled and he wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Come on, Balor. Let’s walk and hear this plan of yours.”

He hopped off the bed after me. “Oh, we’re going for a walk in your dream land. I can’t wait to see what’s inside this pretty little head.”

We walked out of my apartment. It felt strangely empty not seeing Felix around. I would think he’d be in my dream. Making our way down the familiar street we started walking along the empty side walk of the normally busy city. I noticed all the signs on the businesses and streets were blank. Finn had been walking behind me, looking around, smirking the whole time.

“Alesiter said we had to trap you on Halloween. He told me the story, about what happened…”

Finn scoffed, “He told you HIS version of what happened, princess. Not mine.”

“So, Aleister didn’t smuggle a guy in to impregnate your daughter then kill her after he smuggled your grandson away to have him plot to seal your powers away for a millennium only then dragging Lugh down to hell to have him ripped apart by Lucifer himself?”

Finn was silent for a beat. “I should’ve taken ol’ Lucy up on the offer to dethrone him. Red-eyes wouldn’t have stood a chance against me back then. I would’ve destroyed him.”

“But now?”

“Now, it might be more difficult.”

I looked down at my feet walking steadily. “Oh?”

“The throne gives him leverage. Not to mention he gains power from drawing up contracts, stealing souls. As long as hell is open, he has his powers.”

I stopped in my tracks, “So, what are you going to do?”

“Close the gates.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

His lips pressed in a fine line. “It’s not. It requires a lot of skill and precision. The sigils will have to be in place and hidden so he can’t see them. Not to mention the incantations are not for beginners. You’ll have to do some practicing for those.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. “Me?”

“Well, yeah, princess. Who else did you think was going to do it?”

“I don’t know! Maybe you?”

Finn smiled softly. “No can do, Jackie. This has to be done by a soul with a foot in each plane. Meaning someone half way to hell, maybe someone who has sold their soul for a selfless reason?” His eyes were intense and pouring into me. “Someone who has the devil’s attention that can trap him, draw energy from him to close the gates until someone as powerful as yours truly can reopen them.”

I put my hand on my hip, “I thought you said you didn’t have the full extent of your powers?”

“Ah, true,” Balor nodded, “However, should we shut the entrance to hell, that wank-stain’s previous enchantment on me would fade and I would be able to defeat him in contest.”

“This is crazy!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms in the air. I turned around to start walking away from him. “Your ‘plan’ is terrible, and I should have never agreed to this.”

The demon appeared in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “Oh, princess,” he feigned a gasp and put his hand on his chest, “you wound me. This will work.”

“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong.” I glared, dodging him to keep moving down the sidewalk. “Even IF I were to even learn these spells and be able to perform witchcraft, which sounds crazier out loud, I don’t even know the full extent of Aleister’s plans. Which means, in case you aren’t aware, I have no idea how to ‘secretly prepare’ all of this nonsense.”

Balor matched my pace, walking next to me in the street. “I know it seems complex, but we have a practice space. Despite what you think, it doesn’t take a witch to conjure magic. Just an abled mind and a good teacher.”

“You’re going to teach me?”

“I can try.”

I stopped and turned to him, “I thought you said the incantations were tricky. Won’t something bad happen if I- WE get them wrong?”

Finn shrugged, “So you die if you get them wrong. Like that’s the worst thing that could happen.”

I snapped my fingers. Suddenly, lights to a garbage truck appeared as it zoomed down the street and smacked into his wide spread eyes, knocking him back a few feet. I heard him mutter something in Gaelic as he lay in the middle of the road but turned to keep walking.

In a blink, he was blocking my path again, “If I didn’t know any better, princess, I’d say you’re flirting with me.” He leaned into me, grinning from ear to ear. “Not every day a girl’s beautiful mind hits me like a truck.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Aye, Jackie, but you made a deal with crazy.”

“I also made a deal with the devil.”

“True, but if he really did tell you about our history, surely you noticed a pattern?”

I was starting to get impatient with him, “Enlighten me.”

“The Devil tosses aside anyone that helps him like yesterday’s garbage.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Who says he won’t do you the same courtesy?”

My only response was silence. My mind was racing, Aleister said he wouldn’t betray me, but his track record would say otherwise. Finally, I sighed. “Fine. Where is this safe space exactly? How are you going to teach me all of this?”

Balor extended his arms and looked around.

“Here?” I asked.

“Can’t get hurt in here, Jackie. The little spell I stole from Aleister puts a protective barrier around your mind. I can come and go as I please, but the magic we practice, the spells we will cast, will have no effect inside or outside of your dream world. It’s a neutral zone.”

I looked around, “How DID you steal this spell from Aleister? And what about the other nonsense you casted earlier?”

Balor shrugged, “It was a secret silencing spell. You can’t tell anyone about our little deal until I break it.” He clapped his hands together and as he pulled them apart a thick, leather bound book appeared in his hands. “This is Aleister’s family’s grimoire. Something Lucifer rewarded him with when he took the throne. He’s kept it hidden in this world so his little soliders down below don’t get their claws on it. My vessel followed him to it once, unknowingly so I knew exactly where to snatch it from and replaced it with a fake.”

“He doesn’t know?” I asked. “He said he was going to be checking on a spell to keep you out of my dreams.”

“I swapped it with another one disguised as his. It has most of the same spells, not all, and will keep him from suspecting anything.”

Balor handed me the book. “It’s so heavy,” I said, weighing it in my hands.

“Aye,” he agreed before taking it back. “It’s generations of knowledge and power. Probably the best one I’ve ever seen complied together.”

There was quake that came from our feet. The world around us shook violently. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

“Time to wake up, princess.” Balor wrapped an arm around me tight. “How about a kiss goodbye for your new boss?”

I pushed my way out of his arms, “In your dreams.”

“No, princess, in YOURS” He winked and disappeared.

I shot straight up in bed. Felix was sitting calmly on my lap staring up at me.

“Strange dreams,” I said before giving him a scratch on the head.

His green eyes narrowed at me before hopping off towards his food bowl.

Who’d have thought I’d have to lie to my cat?

Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I stretched my arms up towards the ceiling. I could hear my phone buzz on my nightstand with a new text message.

Whoever it is can wait until I’ve had my shower, coffee, and pop-tart.

~~~

Chapter Ten ->

Tag List: @fangirls-gotta-fangirl @xladyxfatex @xbreezymeadowsx @rndm-fngrl-blg @nicolewoo @itsicantbelievethis666

#Aleister black #aleister black x reader #finn balor #finn balor x reader #the devil may care fic

16 notes · View notes

holidaywishes · 6 years ago

Text

Don’t Worry About It.

Summary: Your friend introduces, reluctantly, to Auston. The two of you get a little passionate on a night out and you soon find out that Auston doesn’t care about privacy.

Author’s Note: First off, next chapter of It Had To Be You will be out this Wednesday, so yay.. But I wasn’t lying when I said I was on an Auston Matthews kick... I don’t fucking get it guys. help me! I’m sure this is crap but I needed it out of my system. Also, expect another smut chapter relatively soon -- because I’m basic...

Warning: cursing, we’ll call this smut but it’s soft smut -- let’s be real.

masterlist

Your best friend, Blake, was part of the Leaf’s Communication team so he spent a lot of time around the team; doing everything from interviews to grabbing lunches. When you went down to the MasterCard Centre to pick up Blake for lunch, he was in the middle of interviewing Auston Matthews for the team’s Insta story.

“Hey (Y/N), I’ll be done in a sec, just wait over there,” Blake said, pointing to the stands and you nodded once in compliance.

“Who’s she?” you heard Auston whisper as you sat on the cold, red seat; only to hear Blake divert his attention. When the interview was over, Blake walked over to you and forcibly sat down in the seat next to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips

“Yeah, I uhm, I hope you don’t mind extra company?” he responded, rubbing his forehead

“I’m fine with it but you don’t seem to be..” you joked, watching him sigh heavily,

“I find it a little weird he wants to come is all” he said under his breath and just as you were going to ask who, he’s walking toward you with a big smile on his face

“Blake, my man, you ready?” Auston called out

“Yeah, let’s go” Blake sounded really annoyed and it confused the hell out of you but you rolled your eyes and went with it.

“This is (Y/N) by the way” Blake recalled

“Auston, nice to meet you” he held out his large hand to you and you took it expecting his shake to be aggressive but it was almost soft

“Nice to meet you too, Auston” you found yourself lost in his eyes for a little too long and Blake’s voice finally broke you out of it, forcing you to drop Auston’s hand and his gaze.

“So, pizza or burgers?” Auston asked, trying to ease the tension

“Steak” you and Blake said in unison, earning a smile from Auston

“This is like a thing isn’t it? Like a tradition?” Auston asked as the three of you headed into the parkade

“Yes,” you answered, getting a glare from Blake and returning the act with a giggle, “every time we go out to eat, we go to this awesome steak house in the city, Morton’s, I was never really a steak person until I left Alberta oddly enough.” You continued as Blake practically ran to his truck

“You driving with me or him?” he asked

“Why don’t we just take one car? It’s easier and better for the environment” You laughed

“Fine, get in the truck,” Blake said, seeing the two of you smile at each other, “we won’t all fit in Auston’s. It’s this or a cab...” You marched over to Blake’s ridiculous truck -- you literally needed a step ladder to get inside -- to open the passenger side door, when Auston’s hand crept from behind you; opening the door for you and leaning in just close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.

You had only known Auston for like a week. And Blake did not seem happy about it at all when you agreed to go out to a club with them and a couple other guys from the team.

“Don’t be a baby. I can drink you under the table and still go axe-throwing” you argued

“It’s not that I don’t think you can handle yourself. Believe me, I know you can handle yourself. I just don’t want you to do something dumb,” he complained, “with someone you’ll regret...” You rolled your eyes and put your hand on his shoulder to reassure him

“I’m an adult, this someone to which you’re referring is an adult. If something were to happen, there would be nothing wrong with it,” you mused, “not that anything will happen.”

“Whatever, let’s just go and get this night over with”

“Suck it up, buttercup!” you joked, running past him to reach the Über downstairs first. When you got to Lost and Found you noticed Auston waiting outside, his lips slightly pursed; you wondered for minute what those lips would feel like on yours. The car stopped and Blake dragged you out.

“There you are! I was starting to think you weren’t going to come,” Auston greeted you with a hug and Blake with a fist bump, “the guys are inside come on.” Auston and Blake let you go ahead of them, directing you to where Mitch and Freddie were as they drank their beers.

“Finally, Auston was about to have an aneurysm. I think it’s time for a shot!” Mitch turned to the bar and ordered five shots of Fireball, joking that they were all for him but the second it touched his lips he gagged, making the entire group laugh. It didn’t take any of you long to get borderline out-of-control drunk but you were smart enough to add in a few glasses of water.

“Dance with me!” Auston shouted over the music, appearing behind you out of nowhere.

“Buy me a drink first. Take a shot with me?” You smiled and he obliged

He leaned down to talk in your ear, “anything for that smile.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that his hand was firmly planted on the small of your back but all you wanted to do was go into an empty room and attack his lips with yours. Once you finished your shot, Auston led you onto the dance floor and placed his hands on your hips as you swayed to the music. You noticed him bite his lip and you smiled, pulling yourself closer to him and turning around to feel his body pressed against yours. The two of you were in a kind of trance, dancing so close to each other you might as well be one person, that you didn’t even notice Mitch and Blake had left until Freddie came up to you to complain.

“They just left you?” Auston asked, stunned, his hands not leaving your waist

“I guess Mitch had to meet Stephanie and Blake was grumpy so he took off” was Freddie’s response, you could tell he was upset and he wanted his friend for a second

“Go,” you smiled, turning to face Auston, “take care of your friend, you have my number if you decide to leave, if you stay you know where I’ll be.” He smiled and kissed your cheek, lighting a fire in you you didn’t know was there. Soon enough, he was back but this time he was on a mission; wasting no time. He grabbed you and brought your lips to his, lifting you easily off the floor in a fiery kiss before gently putting you back down. You caught your breath for a second as you stared into his dark eyes, thinking to yourself you should go somewhere private for this but that it didn’t matter because damn you wanted to kiss that boy. When the song ended, you found yourself being led out of the club by Auston’s large hand, hailing a cab once the two of you were outside. He got in first with you following quickly behind as he gave the driver the address. You placed your legs over his knees and drew circles with your fingers on the palm of his hand; you could feel him looking at you but you were scared of what you might do if you looked back. When you finally lifted your head up, his face was turned toward the driver and you found yourself examining his jawline, licking your lips and pulled his face close to you.

You knew you were probably too drunk to be making a rational decision but you moved your body closer to Auston’s anyway, attempting to adjust your legs on either side of him. When he stopped you and left your legs on his knees, you were stunned and a little offended -- but your head wasn’t about to let your body quit now.

“There’s actually a better route,” Auston tried to tell the driver who just ignored him, “seriously?” he scoffed and sat back in the seat. Even though you could tell he was frustrated, you were too drunk and too horny to let the moment go; you leaned in and began trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck, while he caressed the skin on the inside of your knee slowly. You attempted to kiss his lips once more but he put his fore and middle fingers on your lips to stop you, which you promptly took into your mouth teasingly, before bringing them to your chest and running them down your cleavage before you continued to kiss his neck as he bargained with the driver about something.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Auston started, “you can take the long way. You want the money I get it, fine. If you don’t look back here for the rest of the ride I will tip you $200.” You were too distracted to pay attention to what they were talking about but you were sure the driver agreed as soon as Auston mentioned the tip. He turned his head to you and smiled, his hand still resting on your knee, finally giving you what you’d been craving. This kiss was different than the one on the dance floor. It was deeper, slower and it completely enveloped you. He moved his hand up your thigh and crept toward your core.

“Auston!” you whisper-shouted, “not here...” The words were difficult to get out because his fingers were inching down your underwear and you could barely concentrate. As Auston ignored your half-hearted objections, you tried to contain your moans, biting down on your lip so hard you swore you were drawing blood.

“Seriously,” you breathed heavily and gestured to the driver, “we can’t...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled against your neck, “he won’t look back here. I’ll be gentle, you just have to be quiet.” You growled shyly and Auston laughed continuing to slowly pump a finger inside of you, adding another when he thought you could handle it.

Fuck, his hands were big.

You pulled him closer to you and he pushed you into the car door, earning a small wince of pain but not enough to stop you. The two of you found each other’s lips quickly and only parted to take short breaths, Auston’s fingers still inside of you, pushing you closer to the edge with each pump. When he crept back to your neck to kiss the skin behind your ear, you let out a small moan and your head lobbed to the right and you noticed the cab driver peering at you in the rear view mirror. You would’ve said something but you were too focused on Auston’s fingers inside of you and his lips on your neck and his other hand squeezing your hip just tight enough. Soon enough, the cab pulled up in front of Auston’s apartment building and the two of you were forced apart by the driver asking for payment.

“I know you looked,” you heard Auston say to the driver and nod to his lap, “guess it was a good show huh? Have a good night.” After he paid, Auston grabbed your hand and dragged you to his apartment, struggling with the keys for only a second but making up for lost time by using you to close the door once the two of you were inside; biting your lip as he kissed you.

You felt like your skin was on fire. You started ripping off your clothes, forcing him to do the same and the two of you fumbled toward the couch. He sat down, taking off his shirt -- the only piece of clothing left on his body -- as you shimmied out of your skirt, climbing on top of him slowly so he could examine your body. He kissed your breasts as you adjusted yourself onto his lap.

“Fuck, these are even better than I thought they’d be” he said and you smiled, snaking your hand to grab his member.

“What do you have for me?” you teased and he closed the space between you to tell you he didn’t want to go too fast.

“I just don’t want to hurt you” he hummed against your neck

“Believe me,” you pulled his hair back so he was looking at you, “it won’t hurt. I want you, Auston.” He bit his lip and watched as you adjusted him into your entrance, both of you letting out moans; Auston’s low and deep, yours raspy and weak. You rode him up and down, slowly at first, moaning his name breathlessly and feeling him grip your hips with every thrust. As Auston’s moans got louder, his thrusts got harder and more erratic and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer

“Hey, hey,” you hushed, “slow down. Last for me baby.” With your words, he let out a growl, picking you up and spinning you around so he was on top.

“Fuck!” he screamed out and your head fell back onto the armrest of the couch. You scratched your nails down his back and his thrusts began to slow down as if he were savouring the moment; he let his head fall into the crook of your neck, gently laying kisses on your collarbone. You matched his movements, slow and deliberate, and brought your fingers down to your clit.

“I’m so close, Auston,” you said breathlessly, “don’t stop, I’m almost there!” He bucked his hips deeper into you, driving you wild.

“FUCK!” you screamed, the pleasure consuming you

“You cumming baby?“ he said softly in your ear

“I’m cumming, fuck, Auston. Cum with me!” you moaned and he did as you said, the two of you reaching your release in sync.

The next morning, you woke up to Auston’s arm draped across your body and when you tried to get up, he tightened his grip and brought you close to him, your back against his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, half asleep

“Good morning to you too,” you joked, “would you like some water?” He shook his head and still wouldn’t let you out of bed, even when you told him you were going to die if you didn’t get some kind of liquid in your body.

“I have the perfect liquid for your body” he laughed and you turned around to face him, kissing his nose once before finding his lips with yours; pulling away only to prove a point.

“You couldn’t handle me this early in the morning, Matthews,” you said as you planted a small kiss to his cheek, finally able to get out of bed, “hangover or no”

“Try me, (Y/N),” he challenged, “I’m up for anything.”

#auston matthews #smut #nhl smut #nhl #what the fuck is happening to my life #this is how you know you're losing your mind #you start writing smut for players on teams you don't even watch #like what the actual fuck #soft smut #but is it soft smut really?

429 notes · View notes

cloudyyoonji · 6 years ago

Text

Silver House Key

Kim Seungmin x Reader

REQUESTED BY ANON

Summary: it was just a house key that started all of this.

Genre: Fluff!!

______________________

Letting out a puff of white frost, you can’t help but turn the silver key over in your hand.

It feels cold, almost as numb as the cold air around you, seeping into your puffer jacket with every sway as you walk towards the dorms.

The endless corridors shelter you from the wintery bliss outside, but your limbs ache for the warmth of a heater, joints almost frozen in place.

Knocking on the door with a light hand, you rock from foot to foot, desperate to keep warm.

Before the door even opens fully, your whisked inside and pushed towards the heater by none other than Hyunjin.

Bidding your ‘hello’s’ to the other members, who are also all gathered around the heater, you’re quick to join them, bones already thawing out at just the warmth in the dorm.

“Oh Y/N!”

Your quick to turn around at mention of your name, giving Felix a warm smile. “I’ll let Seungminie know your here.”

The boy is gone before you can even reply, turning back to the guys with a small smile and melting into the warm ventilated heat.

“Y/N!”

Seungmin’s voice itself makes you jump in surprise, the sound of feet hitting the hardwood floor in a run further making you stiffen, anticipating his blow. However, his movements are soft, arms wrapping around you in a back hug, and lips pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

You let your blushing face collapse into your hands, making a noise that can only be described as a slight squeak of embarrassment as the rest of his members cheer in delight.

“Go do that somewhere else Kim Seungmin, we are not putting up with your shit today.” Minho says, flopping onto the couch where the others only groan at his weight.

“Okay, lets go Y/N.”

For the second time today, you’re whisked into another room, this being the shared room of Felix and your boyfriend.

Pulling you into another hug, the boy laughs at the shuffling of his 7 members from the living area.

“Kim Seungmin I live in that room too!”

You both can’t help but collapse into laughter at Felix’s comment.

Taking your opportunity in the calm, your quick to press the silver key into his open hand, still pressed against him in a hug.

“What’s this?”

Groaning internally at the fact he’s noticed, you’re determined to play it off cooly.

“A key.”

Oh yes so cool, you’ve got this Y/N.

He raises an eyebrow, turning the key over in his hand.

“To where may I ask?”

Taking a deep breath, you can’t help but crack a smile.

“Well… I know you can’t exactly give me a key to your place because well you live with 7 other people, so I thought I’d give you a key to my place.”

He only stares at you, gaze moving from you to the key laying in his palm.

“You’re giving me a key to your apartment?”

Nodding shyly, you can’t but avoid his eyes.

But a finger lifts your chin, forcing your eyes to revert back to his features, which now seem to be illuminated by an invisible light.

Eyes shining, he can only pull you into another hug.

“Thankyou,” His words come out whispered. “Thankyou for giving me this. You have no idea what it means to me.”

Pulling backwards, a newly found smile on your face you can’t help but laugh at his puppy-like expression.

“It’s just a key, Min.”

He shakes his head, eyes wide.

“It’s more. More because it’s come from you! It’s something I can’t give you, so the fact you’ve given this to me makes me feel…special.”

You laugh again, hand patting his head.

“You are my boyfriend.”

Hand in yours, he pulls you back into the living area.

Ignoring your questions of what he was doing, you find yourself standing in front of the remaining members, a beaming Seungmin holding the key up in one hand, and yours in the other.

“Look, we’re moving up in the world! It’s her apartment key!”

A chorus of cheers and hoots breaks out, clapping following as the members scream in excitement.

Literally engulfing Seungmin in hugs, you pull away from the group, cringing in embarrassment - hands hiding your blush.

Chan is quick to see, shouting in excitement as he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you around into the group hug.

“Congrats guys!” Changbin yells, ruffling the hair of you both.

“Guys!” You groan, a pink blush still covering your cheeks. “It’s not that big of a deal!”

“Are you serious?”

You’re surprised when Jeongin is the one who answers you, shock covering his face at your statement. “It’s huge! You’re basically married now!”

Now both you and your boyfriend groan simultaneously, shaking your heads at the youngest.

“Now now Jeongin, lets not get ahead of ourselves.” Chan laughs, defusing the groans and excited screams with his words, “But congratulations you two.”

Thanking Chan, you can’t help but hide into your boyfriend, body drained from your pumping heart.

The next few hours feel a little more homely then usual. Even though your all just hanging out, playing some games and watch some movies. It feels different this time.

After he’d announced the whole ‘key thing’ to the members, you kept getting a sense that there was something a little bigger going on, like somehow there were words that were waiting to be said, by whom, you’re not sure. Small instances, like Chan whispering something incomprehensible to Seungmin when you’d gotten up to get the popcorn, and when he put his arm around you, Jisung was quick to shoot him a subtle nod. Whatever it was, it is not said, you returning to your apartment a little later in the day, completely exhausted. After changing into one of Seungmin’s hoodies, you sit on the couch, book open in your hands as you try to delve deeper into the world written out in front of you.

You can’t even remember falling asleep, but when your eyes open, you see the clock reads 7.23pm, almost two hours passing since you’d sat down to read.

Rubbing your eyes, you push yourself up from your position on the couch.

Half awake, you blindly waddle to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what you can reheat for dinner.

Instant noodles it is then.

Sighing, you pull out a pot to fill with water, putting it onto a high heat as you open one of the instant noodle packs.

The sound of a key turning sends fear running down your spine, quickly grabbing a tiny paring knife from the open draw as the knob begins to turn.

When the door does open, and you make out the familiar figure of your boyfriend you can only sigh in relief, dropping the knife back into the draw.

“Yah, Seungminie.” You say, glaring at him from the kitchen entryway. “You scared me to death.”

He slips off his shoes, a smile spreading across his features at your words.

“Sorry Jagi, I was excited to try out the key.”

Shaking your head slightly and exhaling a smile, you turn your attention back to the boiling noodles, stirring in the flavoring.

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

Shaking your head to answer his question, you pull out a bowl from the cupboard, “Did you want some?”

He shakes his head, a polite smile forming, “I already had dinner, but you eat Jagi.”

Serving yourself the boiling noodles, you beacon him to the small table, setting your bowl and chopsticks down swiftly.

Some small talk and sarcastic comments later, you’ve emptied the bowl and moved to the couch, embraced by none other then a warm Seungmin. Content on getting warm, you snuggle more into the crook of his arm.

“Thank you for coming.”

The words are barely above a whisper, tucked into the comfort of your close bodies.

He only smiles fondly in response, eyes fluttered closed as if to take in a few more moments.

“You know,” he begins, eyes still closed. “I really love being with you like this.”

You can’t help the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the word ‘love’. You two had been together for what felt like decades, but was only around 6 months. You weren’t sure if he’d thought the same thing, felt the same intense fondness you felt.

“I love you.”

The words are out of his mouth before you can even register, head in the clouds at his single mention of the word ‘love’.

You can’t help but stare in shock, frozen to the core.

“Sorry what?”

His eyes open, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he looks down at you adoringly.

“I love you y/n. I love you a lot actually. I am seriously so in love with you at this moment in time that it’s blowing my mind. I love you.”

It’s as if the world has stopped turning, the memory preserved into a still only in your minds.

You lean up to kiss him, mumbling the words into his mouth in a whisper.

“Kim Seungmin, I am utterly in love with you too.”

The silver house key shines brightly on the table in front of you, illuminating you both in a surreal silver emission that could have only existed in fairy tales.

He was yours. You are his. Your love was forever sealed into this silver house key, a symbol of not just love, but a symbol of eternal happiness, a beacon of light much brighter then the sun that burnt in more passion than a fiery kiss could ever muster.

You were his, and he was yours, your fate forever sealed my the silver house key that laid deep in your hearts

124 notes · View notes

cloudy-coyote · 6 years ago

Text

Necessity

(A/N: I just find these gifs on google so they are not mine! I hope you guys enjoy this part cause there’s more to come!!! You should totally leave feedback if you think I need some criticism, I’m all open ears. And believe it or not, things get even crazier from here. xoxox)

Ch. 3: Sammy’s a Kicker

Eva stands wobbly, her bandaged legs not yet strong enough to hold her up. 'Of course, I choose to wear overalls on the day I vanish to another year,' she thinks to herself.

She ended up having to sit down on the bed while she shimmies her legs into the fabric. If she thought that was hard, she had no idea how to get her sweatshirt over her head, considering she has freshly stitched wounds all up her torso and back—even the slightest of stretch could rip them.

As she spends her time getting dressed, Sam and Dean stand outside her door, trying to claim possession over the patient. Saying they need to take her back to headquarters, wherever that is.

They didn't have time to explain much, but she was desperate enough that that didn't matter. They were her only option. She'd do anything to keep herself from being locked away in a straight jacket. So when they told her to 'haul ass and get dressed', that's exactly what she did.

She finally gets the shirt over her head, gently dropping it down her torso. She places her rain boots back on and grabs her backpack, keeping her phone securely inside. She grabbed the pair of crutches that was sitting next to her bed. She tried to balance herself on the silver sticks without hurting her arms too bad. Once fully ready, she draws back the curtain that was blocking the window and door. They see her standing, clothed and ready.

Sam gently opens the door, giving her room to walk into the hallway. She makes direct eye contact with Dr. Calloway, the same nurse from before standing behind him.

"Eva, we can help you," The Doctor says, "We highly insist you stay here where you can be taken care of,"

"Sorry, Doctor, we're just following orders," Dean states. He places a large, callus hand on Eva's shoulders.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Have a nice day, sir," Sam politely farewells.

Fitting their character, they both put on sunglasses. Their faces remain poker straight, and quickly escort Eva out of the hospital.

Once they reach the front doors, and she takes her first step back outside, she sees it.

She sees the old cars, the hideous 2000's fashion (super low-rise jeans, velvet jumpsuits), the billboards advertising 'Transformers' or 'Toyota 2005' models, she even noticed everyone using classic flip-phones. She sees the girls with bleach-blonde hair, streaks of hot pink. She sees people using neckties as belts and wearing flip-flops with cargo pants.

After looking around and seeing everything, she feels entirely lost. Like she had traveled to a foreign country. I mean, nothing about 2005 America simulated 2019, not in any way. She could even say the air felt different. It was just slightly off, slightly changed, it didn't feel right. It didn't feel anything like home, especially without her family.

Eva wearing overalls and a cropped sweatshirt didn't really mix well with the crowd. People gave her lots of odd looks, not to mention the millions of bandages she's buried in, along with the crutches.

"This is crazy," She says, looking to Sam. Dean begins leading her through the parking lot, to his car.

"Are overalls popular in 2019?" Sam asks, a small smile on his face.

She laughs, "They are, but I stick out like a sore thumb, don't I?

"Yup," Dean adds, "What, were you like a farmer on somethin'?"

Eva snorts, "No, but are you guys gonna explain what's going on or what?"

To that, both Sam and Dean look at each other, before finally stopping at a car. The car was black, sleek; it had silver rims and a low top. Dean walks around to the driver's seat and swings the door open, "First we got to get you outta' here, sweetheart."

Sam opens the door for Eva, "Don't worry, if there's anybody who can help you with what happened, it's us," He sends her another kind smile before she slides into the backseat, "You're safe here." He shuts the door.

Dean gingerly slides the keys into the slot and turns them, earning a great big roar of the engine. Eva--even through the layers upon layers of bandages-- feels the rev of the car beneath the leather seat.

Once she gets comfortable in the cushion, the best she can despite her aching body, she relaxes. The fresh scent of clean laundry, booze, and an old, homey car. Her muscles practically begin to melt into the seat with each deep breath she took, strangely putting her mind to peace. She truly did feel safe away from the hospital.

"You alright back there?" Dean asks, meeting her eyes in the rear-view mirror. But this time when they hold eye contact, it's not stern, or scary. His green eyes were much more kind.

"Would be a lot better with some food," She comments with a small smile on her face.

Dean laughs, "Couldn't have said it better myself."

Her smile slowly sinks from her lips, her mind wandering onto what the absolute Hell is going on. This whole past day and night have been nothing but chaos and confusion-- things she'd never expect even in her wildest dreams, yet here she is. Stuck in 2005, torn away from her family- her life, her loved ones, and been attacked by God knows what.

"2019, huh?" Dean comments.

"What's it like?" His brother asks.

Eva rolls her eyes, thinking about all of the mayhem that is the future. Global warming, Wars, the Muslim-ban, the racist uprising. But at the same time, there were many wholesome movements--things that bring people together. Black Lives Matter, Me Too, there was in fact, a lot of unity despite the polarizing President.

There was a time when Republicans and Democrats could live together civilly. But that wasn't the case for 2019. There was such a strong division among the political groups. You had people from both sides saying how much they despise each other. Neo-Nazis marching against minority groups, and young Democrats preaching violence against Trumpsters. There was just so much hatred--- so many hurt people.

"Pretty hectic, honestly."

"Hectic?" Sam repeats.

Before they have a chance to ask more questions, she cuts them off. Trying to change the subject-- she doesn't want to think about home.

"So what is it you guys said you did, again?" She asks.

While the question was said slightly to derail the conversation, this had also been eating away at her brain. The only explanation she got in the hospital was Sam telling her that they help people like her, paranormal cases-- but what exactly does that entail?

"Er- we're hunters," Sam answers, "We hunt Ghosts, Demons, you name it."

"How does one exactly...get into a job like this?"

"It's the family business," Dean shrugs.

Sam snorts, "Most parents tell their children there's no monster under the bed. Our Dad handed us a shotgun."

Eva's eyes widen at his words. What a totally different world from hers, huh?

And she thought when her Dad would make her come fix the pipes with him, that he was being unfair-- God was she privileged. And for a moment she thinks how awful it must've been to grow up with a life like that. But then it hit her, it hit her that what if this is her life now? Her family is gone. It's only been a day, but down to the absolute core of it, she has never felt such a cold-cut separation from them as she does now. Never truly felt empty, without their love until now-- as if they were dead. She just couldn't feel them.

"He was honest with us, it was the only way to keep us safe," Dean adds.

When his words tear her away from her thoughts, she immediately notices Sam's reaction. His eyes slightly rolling, turning his head away with a muttered scoff. She hates to admit it but, having someone else's tension and stress to focus on makes it easier for her not to get caught up in her own problems.

Truly, if she compares their childhoods, she's practically treated like a Princess. She had great big birthday parties with all of her cousins and friends, during Halloween her Mom used to plan weeks ahead, helping little Eva become whatever she wanted to be.

And her favorite part of the year: Christmas. It was just magical.

They would decorate the outside of their house in cute, colored lights. Eva and her Mom would bake cookies and pies, which Eva absolutely loved. They would bring in a nice big Christmas tree every year and decorate with tons and tons of ornaments and lights. Around the house, her parents would scatter around little Santa's and little reindeer decorations.

It was also the time of year when tons of her cousins and family would come visit their home and they'd constantly have people over playing games, eating together, and having so much fun.

Most of all, when Christmas day came, they all got each other gifts, nice gifts. True, her brothers always struggled with not only wrapping but also picking things out. Despite that, it was always purest, the happiest day of her life. Whether it was her Mom's homemade knit socks or Charley's artsy drawings, or just being in the company of Oli and her Dad--it was all perfect. At the end of the day, she loved being surrounded by them. And right now, she really needed it.

'What they wouldn't give to have a childhood like that...' she thinks.

She feels their thick, fiery tension. She could tell instantly that Dean's words rubbed Sam the wrong way and vise versa. But, while it distracted her-- it also made her feel guilty. She didn't like their discomfort. No, she liked it far better when they were kind and calm. Something she needs at this time while dealing with her madness. Something she required from them in order to know that everything's going to be okay.

"I can imagine knowing about all those evil things at such a young age must've made your childhood so much different," Eva earnestly says.

Her voice glazed over as she recalls all the precious memories, slowly tugging tears to her eyes. Her fingers eagerly find her necklace, holding it tight in her palm. She really can't help but feel bad for them, growing up hunting monsters? They probably felt like outcasts-- outcasts that weren't getting paid nor recognized for saving people. 'I just can't imagine,' she thinks.

It was strangely comforting, the words she spoke. Sam and Dean have this consistent tension that pulls on both of their ends every time they talk about their childhood. It's like, sometimes, they didn't even live the same experience. As if Dean was raised by a completely other man. In Sam's eyes, the John Winchester he knows raised them like soldiers. But it's like that man didn't exist to Dean.

"So, how am I going to get back to, well, er- the future?" She stumbles over the words. The idea that her saying 'back to the future' as a real thing and not as a reference to the movie, making her feel really odd.

"Honestly? Not a clue," Sam answers, "We've never actually had a time-travel case before," He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

Instantly, this makes her stomach drop. These guys are her only hope, and even they don't know what to do? Even they've never even heard of something like this? Her brain starts spinning, her anxiety flying out the window as she feels her face get hot with frustration. And she goes straight back to that place, 'what if she can't get back? What if, truly, yesterday was her very last day in 2019?'

"Great," She whispers, hopelessness getting the better of her.

Sam jolts in his seat, his hands frantically waving at her, "No-no! That's not what I meant. Just because we haven't had a case like this before doesn't mean we can't figure it out. Seriously, we do it all the time."

"Just tell me truthfully," Eva meets his hazel eyes in the mirror, "Do you think that I'll ever see them again?"

"Yes. I promise that you will," Sam responds in a soft tone.

"Then, what's the first step?"

"Ganking the SOB that attacked you," Dean decides.

Not even the slightest wavering in his voice, or a flinch in his face, he was sure as Hell. The firmness in his tone, the fact that he was self-assured enough to make a very certain decision-- it gave her ease. She didn't feel scared, like whatever what was going to happen next was unknown or that her future wasn't hopeful. She really needed someone right now to give her security. To give her trust, and that's exactly what Dean did.

Eva's stomach rumbles with a loud growl. Her brain just now realizing how hungry she was.

"Not without eating first...right?" Eva asks.

This causes both Sam and Dean to laugh, the mood lightening up even more.

"How do you feel about burgers?"

"Well," She looks down to her fingers and hands covered in bandages, "How do you guys feel about cutting up my food?"

Dean lets out a low whistle, "Sammy's the babysitter tonight, idn't that right?" He gives a hard pat on his brother's shoulder.

"You know Dean, correct me if I'm wrong but last hunt I carried your ass out of a burning building. So actually, I think it's your turn, brother."

"Oh c'mon," Dean groans, "Y'know how much I hate kids,"

"Hey! I'm 18, thank you very much," Eva hollers from the back seat.

"Is that so?" Dean meets her eyes in the mirror, sending her a flirtatious wink, a small smirk playing on his face.

"Seriously, Dean?" Sam gags, "She's injured! God, I'll do it, okay?"

The Impala smoothly pulls into the parking lot of an off-road diner called, 'Two Men and a Griddle'. The building looked rather vintage, a 60's themed restaurant. It had a few cars parked here and there, most of them taking a rest stop to eat.

Once Dean sets the car in park, he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and swings the door open. Sam and Dean were still decked out in their FBI suits, looking a little out of place for a small diner like this.

They decide to ditch the jackets, the tie and untuck their shirts to make it look less formal. While Dean makes his way to the trunk, Sam opens the side door, greeting Eva with a kind smile.

"Do you need some help?" He asks. She quickly looks down to her body. She already knew her body was in some pretty severe pain since she's been feeling it the entire car ride, but she honestly didn't know how to go about getting out the car. Everything was bandaged, there were lots of splints, so she wasn't very bendable at the moment.

"I think so," She answers. He offers a hand out for her to grab-- unfortunately not getting the finest grip. And when he tries to pull her out, using most of his strength to help her--- her hand slips from his grasp and she nearly tumbles to the ground. Her breath caught in her throat the moment she lost balance, feeling herself fall-- but oddly enough, she didn't hit the ground. No, she fell into Sam, who had his knees locked at the moment and was at a very awkward angle, and when she tumbled, she didn't fall on the concrete but rather something on the ground, and landed on something very hard, it was also warm--- and groaning.

"I'm so sorry!" She yelps, trying to shuffle off of his gigantic body. Unintentionally--at least she thinks-- she catches a feel of his muscular build while trying to scramble off of him.

"You two need a room?" Dean jokes, still rummaging through the contents of the trunk.

"Ha. Ha." Sam rolls his eyes, "Very funny, Dean."

Once Eva is fully off of him, she crawls around, trying to find a way to get up. Her body was pulsing even harder than before, and now she was sitting on her legs which were definitely too sore to carry her weight. She inaudibly winces when trying to reach toward the car, attempting to find leverage.

Sam grunts as he sits up, brushing off his clothes. He easily stands up and looks back down to Eva. He notices her scrunched up face, she's in evident pain. But despite her very clear discomfort, she desperately tried grabbing on to the car door, trying to pull herself back up.

"Hey, hey, relax. You don't want to end up ripping one of your stitches, just lemme help you."

He extends his hands out and she jumps away from them."But I fell on you!" She protests.

"And I'm fine. You're clearly not."

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm fine," She argues back, still trying to pull herself up.

He ignores her words, not buying one second of it, and bends down, "I'm gonna help you now, okay?"

He gently grabs both of her arms, his large hands easily wrapping around her entire elbow. Slowly pulling her up, he makes sure not to grip too tight, or too loose, and she dare not look him in the eye. Once she's on her feet, he holds her for an extra second to make sure her balance is grounded.

His warm hands leave her arms, and she nervously meets his eyes, "Thanks," She mumbles.

"You're welcome."

Dean pops back up from the trunk, he's holding a black, beat-up journal in one hand, and in the other a laptop. He hands the computer to Sam.

"Let's try and do some digging," Dean says.

"Good idea, the sooner we find this thing, the sooner we can kill it."

Sam looks to Eva, her eyes veiled with the look of disassociation. She was quiet, but her mind was the complete opposite. She couldn't bear the thoughts coiling in her brain. The fact that what Sam and Dean do shouldn't be real. None of this should be real.

She can't help but think back to when Amber used to say her house was haunted. She'd only been there a couple times herself, but she'd be lying if she said it felt normal there. There was something so stomach-churning about her home. It makes her think, what if it was really haunted? What if, all of this stuff has existed in her home town? What if, Amber didn't go missing out of the blue---but was attacked by something paranormal?

"You okay?" Sam asks, startling her from her thoughts.

"I just can't believe this stuff is real."

"Neither can we sometimes," Sam sighs. They begin to walk towards the entrance, "Especially with your case, I don't even know what could do this."

Eva hums in response. It certainly doesn't calm her nerves knowing they're just as perplexed as she is. And when she's more on edge--more scared, it's harder for her to see a happy ending.

She trails sloppily behind the boys, trying to not hurt herself with the crutches. They swing open the cute little brass doors of the diner and are met with the strong smell of fried food and milkshakes.

A bubbly blonde hostess instantly greets the little group, "Just 3?" She asks.

They all nod as she grabs a couple of menus. Dean, not even trying to be discreet, easily scans her body. His eyes wandering from top to bottom, meeting all the way back to her face, and resting on her red-painted lips.

"Follow me."

As Eva makes her way through the restaurant, she notices the many different people sitting about the tables. Travelers, businessmen, families, and so on. Similarly, the way she peers in on these people, they peer at her. She wasn't exactly normal looking at the moment, even in a diner full of random social classes---not a single person looked away from her as she passed them.

She didn't realize it at first, but seeing the occasional family sitting in a booth, really cut straight into her. Her family used to go on road trips, they'd pile in the car and drive out to a city close by to visit cousins. She always loved to travel, but she supposes it was always easier for her to have fun because she never actually drove the car. There was something calming about watching the scenery flow by the window, she couldn't explain it, but it was very peaceful to her.

They'd almost always make a rest stop somewhere exactly like this. A little pull-in diner, she'd get milkshakes, dip her fries in them. They'd cozy up into a booth, and while there would be bickering, there'd be lots of funny moments too---somehow always turning into a laughing fit.

She smiles at the memory of the one time her brother Charley sat across from her and they were in the corner of the booth. He kept annoying her, flicking straw wrappers at her or mocking everything she said-- he's always been a bit childish. And of course, he got what he wanted and got her all riled up. And she remembers getting so annoyed that when she saw him about to throw another stupid, crumpled paper at her--- her arm flung up in the air trying to stop it. But, she ended up hitting the little wall decoration right next to her, and broke it straight off.

Off course, the waitress had just arrived to bring them their food, her face was appalled, to say the least. Eva had never felt more embarrassed in her life. Not to mention, the diner had been rather quiet, so when everyone heard the ceramic wall decoration shatter, the whole entire restaurant stared at her and she was as red as a tomato. Her family laughed their asses off, and couldn't stop talking about it the entire trip.

The waitress hands Eva a menu, "That's such a pretty necklace!" She compliments, staring right at the little bugger.

Once they reach their table, Sam notices the ghostly smile on Eva's face. It wasn't necessarily pleasant, but not sad either. There was an almost bittersweet twinkle to her gaze as she rounded the chair. Eva softly mumbles a 'thank you', before sitting down.

Dean, on the other hand, had his green eyes glued to the waitress wearing the nametag: 'Marlene'. And he couldn't stop chatting her up, making her cheeks flush and her fingers naturally twirl through her blonde locks.

Sam gingerly took a seat next to Eva, "You alright?" He asks.

She was knocked out of her reminiscent feeling. Her eyes blinking as if she's adjusting to the sight in front of her for the first time.

She appreciates his kindness, it helps to know that someone is caring about her. She has no idea what she would have been like if these boys didn't take her case. She'd be in that hospital, alone--maybe even put away in a Mental Health Institution---something she couldn't handle without her family- not again.

She shook away the thoughts, not wanting to jump down that sticky rabbit hole either.

"I'm okay, just a little scared honestly," She answers Sam back, meeting his concerned eyes.

She's a very concise person, it's an admirable trait. She learned very early on that lying does her no good. If something is too hard to talk about, too hard to explain-- perhaps she's not ready to say it--- then she's learned to say exactly that, 'I'm not ready to talk,' 'I'm too scared to talk', 'Frankly, I don't know'--- rather than lie.

He places his laptop on the table, but keeps a fixed gaze on her, "You have every right to be scared; what you're going through is hard."

"Do you deal with a lot of freaked out people?"

"All the time," He smiles, "It's normal. And you can count on us to help you get back home."

"Thanks, Sam," She gives him an endearing, warm smile-- showing her appreciation for his comforting words.

"Alright, let's start from the beginning, we need every possible detail you can give us," Dean announces, flipping open the journal.

She begins to tell them everything that she can remember about yesterday. Amber, the missing car, the intense downfall of rain and the eerie emptiness of the town. Just as she's explaining the events leading up to the attack, Dean pauses her.

"Wait, so whatever this thing was, it just popped up out of nowhere? Didn't make any sounds?" He asks.

She fearfully recollects the night, shutting her eyes tight. She remembers the thundering footsteps bellowing toward her.

"I heard running, really l-loud, uh, footsteps..." She pauses, out of breath, "-And t-then it all happened so... uh- fast- I, I couldn't do anything," She starts to feel her eyes filling over with tears.

"Dean, we should give her a break, you're pushing her too much," Sam suggests.

"You good, kid?"

She shakes her head, feeling his eyes on her. She breathes out the tightness in her chest and the heat in her eyes, "I'm okay, I wanna get this over with."

She shuts her eyes again. 'C'mon Eva,' she begs herself.

She knows that they need every detail from that night. If she misses something, they won't be able to figure out what it is that stalked her. Her story is vital-- doesn't matter how painful and mortifying it is. The longer she puts it off, the less of a chance they have at finding this guy.

It's just honestly-- it's one of those moments where she craves nothing more than her Mom's warm, comforting arms. Her Mother has been there for her night and day, the kindest and sweetest woman to walk the Earth. But, barely even being able to envision the feeling of what one of her hugs, it just made her colder. She couldn't feel them, couldn't feel her warmth. And it just made her feel even farther away.

'It's your mind,' she tells herself, 'you need to control it, you need to.'

Clenching her jaw so tight, it stung; screwing her eyes shut so hard, she saw stars; breathing in so deep, that her lungs felt like they were going to pop-- she tries again, illustrating the night.

"The footsteps they- they were the loudest thing I heard... louder than the thunder and...and- I was bent over-- I was bent over because... because- I dropped my necklace," She recalls, the last bit making her eyes shoot open at the memory.

"No- no, it fell!" She corrects herself, "Yeah, it fell right off of me, straight onto the sidewalk."

Sam and Dean are listening very carefully, putting together all of the strange elements. There was something about this case that was agonizingly freakish. The fact that these little, simple things were just slightly out of place, they couldn't understand it, none of them could.

"Is your necklace broken?" Sam asks, looking down to her chest at the gem. Her fingers subconsciously twirl it, as she shakes her head.

"No, I checked it when I got it at the hospital. It was perfectly fine," She mutters the last part, going into a little state of confusion herself.

"And that thing, you hadn't heard it yet, not before your necklace fell?" Sam asks.

"No, it wasn't until after I bent over to pick it up."

Dean shifts his eyes to the book, flipping through it. Trying to find something, anything. His tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth and he scans the pages.

"And when it started running, it wasn't close to you? Not behind you?" Dean asks, still frantically searching pages. Sam listens just as intently, but also is opening hundreds of obscure informative websites on lore and myths, looking just as confused as his brother.

"No, when I was about to pick up the necklace, I heard footsteps from really far behind me, but going to so fast it ended up- well, uh- right there and- you know, it- it attacked me," She stuttered through her words, the images and surging pains flashing through her as she remembers like a movie.

"Definitely not a ghoul," Dean mutters to his brother.

"Not a skinwalker either."

"After it attacked you, did it try to get your necklace?" Dean asks.

"Uh--no."

This causes both of them to look at each other. If the attacker didn't want the gem, then why did it fall off of her? It didn't naturally un-clasp from her neck, Dean knows that for sure. It was like the two biggest factors of her story were contradicting each other. 'If it wasn't going for the necklace, then what was it going for?'

The waitress suddenly pops up at the table startling everyone.

All three of them deep in a frenzy of trying to look for a pattern. Sam nervously lowers his computer screen and Dean quickly shuts the journal. He flashes the young lady a nice smile, and she smiles back.

"I hate to say this, but it's gettin' real late, you three," She nods her head to the side, "We're sorta startin' to clean up..."

"Marlene, you're kickin' us out?" Dean teases, pretending to look hurt.

"I know!" She pouted, "I was really likin' serving you today, Dean."

"Me too, sweetheart," He cocks his head to the side, locking eyes with her, "Say, you live around here?"

Eva chokes back a laugh, entertained by the cinema playing in front of her. Sam's irritated look is incomparable, and Dean's goofy smile really has her forgetting all about the attack.

Sam clears his throat lightly, failing to get Dean and Marlene's attention, he clears it much louder.

"Excuse me, Dean, but maybe another time? Did you forget we have that thing at work tomorrow?"

Dean reluctantly looks back to his baby brother, sighing, "Right, forgot."

"You mind gettin' me a slice of apple pie to go?" He asks.

"Comin' right up!"

While Marlene happily dances her way over to the kitchen, Eva looks back to the boys. All while getting caught up at the hospital, to the diner-- then getting swept up into the story and researching, she totally forogt...what is the next step? She doesn't have a home to go back to, this case-- right now-- is her life. If they stop researching, she can't just sit down and watch some tv, can she? She sighs at the thought, of how long the road ahead is going to be.

"So, you guys, where exactly are we going?"

"Lotus Motel, on Semple." Dean answers.

"Right, so, where exactly am I sleeping?"

"Well it's...oh, okay, " Sam remembering that there are only two beds, politely offers, "Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

"I'd take him up on that offer, Sammy's a kicker," Dean whispers the last part.

"That was once, Dean, once. And we were friggin' kids! I don't do that anymore!"

Dean lets out an airy laugh, grinning with entertainment. Sam, on the other hand, ears turning bright pink and nose all scrunched up in annoyance.

"Just so easy," Dean clicks his tongue, still smiling.

If they're going to be driving again, and staying up God knows how late researching-- Eva decides she should probably use the restroom. She stands up, the boys going back and forth. Dean teasing Sam, Sam getting upset, Dean pushing it, Sam sassing back, Dean getting annoyed-- it was, maybe, just a little headache provoking?

She picks up the crutches and get's herself steady. She catches the eyes of the waitress, "Could you tell me where the bathroom is?" She asks politely.

"C'mon, I'll show ya'!"

She quickly follows behind the blonde girl. Her legs and arms wobbling as she tries to move fast on crutches. Good thing they're the only customers left, otherwise, she'd be wrecking into everyone's table.

Marlene begins to slow down, making a couple turns through a sweetly decorated hallway--literally. There were bubblegum machines and candy bars everywhere. It was like she was walking through the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory.

The waitress swiftly glances behind her to look at Eva-- her face jumping in surprise.

"Oh sweetie, do you want some help?" She offers a hand.

Eva nods. She'd be lying if she said her arms were starting to hurt even more, and it was hard trying not to tug the wrong way and accidentally rip stitching.

She places her finely manicured nails behind Eva's shoulders, and places the other hand out in front of her, ready to open a door. The girl was being awfully polite. I mean, for working in food service, one tends to become pretty wrung out from all the crazy customers they deal with. She was surprised this girl was so happy.

"Here we are," She opens the door, holds it up for her to limp in. She gives her one last pat on the shoulder and a bright smile.

"Just call out if you need some help, hun," Her blue eyes twinkling.

"Thanks, I will."

The waitress leaves the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind her. She carefully makes her way over to a stall. Then she realizes, she's wearing overalls. Boy-- is this going to be fun. She struggles to unbuckle the straps and tries to get it down her legs.

As she's washing her hands, she can't help but succumb to the quietness of the empty room. Silence, it always gets to her.

When she has something to stimulate her brain, whether it's tv, books, games, conversations with people-- it distracts her. When she has something else to focus on, something else to intrigue her, it keeps the mind from spiraling away. At this moment, she can't afford to have herself get caught up in the monstrosities of her pain. The second she lets herself think about her family, about what happened---she'll go off the deep end, she knows it.

Of course, arguing with her brothers is something she never enjoyed. But, she can't deny having something to busy her mind with, even if it's something annoying, she needed it. She quite likes that the Winchester boys bicker. Especially, with all that she's dealing with-- with all the heart-wrenching thoughts of being without her family-- her well-being demands distraction.

She exits the bathroom, and even from such a far distance, she can hear the muffled sounds of Sam and Dean arguing. She tries to focus---some call it eavesdropping, she calls it, 'I can listen to whoever the Hell I want to, fuck off,' Or at least that's what she'd say to her brothers, anyway.

"--Dean, you're refusing to look at the similarities," Sam's voice, she infers.

"No, there's just nothing to look at." Dean, she figures, "That kid was a psycho."

"The psychic abilities? Both of our Mom's died in our nursey---both died the same exact way? We were connected in some way, Dean, admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe that you're scared? You're trying to tell me you're not in the least bit scared I could turn into that?"

"You're not like that, Sammy, okay?" Dean raises his voice, "Now stop fussing over it, we've got other things to deal with."

Now, Eva was in a predicament. She heard quite a lot there-- quite a lot that not only made her concerned but very confused. She felt wrong knowing all that personal information, things about Sam that he didn't tell her willingly. Not to mention the guilt-- the guilt of hearing about his Mother. She doesn't know what to think now except, 'maybe eavesdropping wasn't such a good idea...'

She pops her head into the main eating area. Her eyes instantly meeting the majorly thwarted boys. Dean takes it as a signal to go. He stands up, quickly throwing his coat over his shoulders. Sam also stands and clothes himself in a jacket. Eva looks to the table noticing no take-out box.

"She didn't bring you your pie, yet?"

Dean frowns, "Nope, 'bout to go up there and get it myself."

"Dean," Sam warns.

"We can just go find her, she was with me a few minutes ago--"

All of a sudden, something was not feeling right in Eva's brain.

Something feeling thick and cold in her veins. She could feel her stomach jump so high, it felt like it was caught in her throat. It was as if her chest cavity was collapsing with each breath-- as if her body was shrinking with each shudder.

And that's when she started to feel the excruciating pain on her back. It wasn't on the surface where the stitches were-- no, it was inside of her. Where the monster tore her up. She felt her organs cramping up; her blood burning so hot, that it felt like it was going to eat her inside out; her flesh feeling like it's being compressed so tight, she couldn't move.

Her skin begins to run pale. Her breathes getting frozen in her lungs.

"You're not lookin' too good," Dean says. He notices the pink rings forming around her eyes. Dark purple color flooding her eye bags. He sees her eyes fall heavy, her breathing slow, and her lips agape, shaking.

Just as Sam is about to ask her if she's okay--- her head cocks to the side and she collapses on to the floor.

Blood spilling out of her nose on to the black and white tiles.

(Let me know what you think! I really hope you guys are enjoying this xoxo)

#sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #dean winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester imagine #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #supernatural imagine #original female character #jensen ackles #jared padalecki

25 notes · View notes

raynebowrayne · 6 years ago

Text

Late night ramble about Kylo/Ben.

First lets look at the actual person, then see if we can draw some Episode IX conclusions.

Ben Solo - Emotionally neglected, physically pampered, angry outbursts, emotionally volatile, highly sensitive, lonely.

Kylo Ren - Emotionally abused, physically abused, angry outbursts, emotionally conflicted, highly sensitive, lonely.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire - young Solo has jumped." Yoda might say.

Notice how similar the two are? At their core they are truly the same person. That really is Han and Leia's baby boy.

We know why Ben Solo rejected his birthname: his family failed him, hurt him, rejected him and tried to kill him in his sleep.

We know what Kylo Ren is supposed to be: Vader 2.0.

We know why Kylo Ren can't quite reach Vader level Sithdom: He's conflicted.

Why is he conflicted? He doesn't truly want to be in the situation he is in.

Why is he in that situation? Luke robbed him of all other options when he lit his blade that night.

Why did Luke do that? He panicked.

Why did he panic? Luke mind raped his sleeping nephew and saw the destruction of everything he held dear in Ben's mind.

Why did Luke mind rape Ben? Ben was a school-shooter type kid, moody, dark, with outbursts during training… Luke wanted to find out what was wrong with his nephew.

Why was Ben like that? He was a pampered, spoiled only child of two absentee parents with gargantuan expectations put on him from all sides at an early age.

The knowledge of his connection to Vader was kept from him far too long and given in an inappropriate way.

His parents made him feel like he was some kind of monster. They talked about him behind his back but loudly enough to be overheard. They sent him away to be Luke's problem. Luke tried to murder him in his sleep. Ben believes that he is a monster. It's what his family thinks of him, it's what everyone thinks of him, so it must be true... right?

He tries to live up to everybody's expectations of him. His parents, Luke, Snoke, Phasma, Hux, his shuttle driver, the random stormtroopers who see him in the halls… he is trying so hard to live up to expectations... it's too much for him, it overwhelms him at times.

The Kylo Ren identity and mask allow him to act out a fantasy, a fantasy of power, purpose, and poise… everything his grandfather was known to have had in spades but that Ben Solo lacks.

Yes, Ben is strong in the Force, immensely, but in reality he is an abused manchild who is lacking all agency and all forms of privacy... he lies to himself constantly to make his bad situation tollerable, but in fact he is just an overwhelmed boy who is frightened, abused, and powerless.

Snoke lies to him with every breath and manipulates him 24/7… he keeps Ben in a constant state of upheaval. He wants Ben to be a rabid cur… to be Hux with Skywalker blood. He constantly berates and abuses Ben for failing to live up to this expectation.

Kylo Ren is a shell, a mask, a sham. He is Ben's shield against the pain he carries, the suffering he endures and the horrorific acts he performs on behalf of Snoke and the first order.

By nature, Ben is an introvert. An overthinker. An empath. These traits do not mix well with being an evil henchman. Make no mistake, he does want to be an evil henchman. He wants so many things that do not mesh with his personality. He wants to be respected even revered like his mother. He wants to be feared like his grandfather. He wants to be glib and gutsy like his dad… but in fact he is at the same time not at all like his family and so much like them it's scarey.

He has some of their traits, a penchant for drama, recklessness, flying and quips…. But on a fundamental level his family is peopled by charismatic extroverts, and he is an awkward introvert.

Leia tells Han she wants their son back, but that's not possible… their son, in her mind, is an illusion... Leia's version of Ben never existed. She never saw him for who and what he is, she only saw him in the context of her expectations of him. As did Han, and Luke, and Snoke and Hux… all of the prominent people in his life… they look at him and see what they expect of him.

Nobody sees him for him. Nobody is privy to the depths of his pain, sorrow, loneliness and solitude. Nobody is even aware he has those feelings until Rey comes along and Forces her way into his mind's inner sanctum.

Nearly three full decades into a life spent unseen, unknown, disconnected from everybody and then… out of nowhere, a nobody - his polar opposite - appears and she sees the things he keeps hidden from everybody (including himself to a large extent).

She sees everything he doesn't want known… yet, she expects him to be exactly what he appears to be… an unfeeling monster... but she knows better than anyone that's not truly who he is. She knows it well enough to pick up on the one thing she can do to actually hurt him… call him a monster.

Rey isn't sugar n spice n all things nice, she's fierce, fiery, and vicious. She's going for the throat when she calls him a monster, make no mistake about that. She KNOWS how much that will hurt him and she does it on purpose. Twice.

Ben has seen into her mind, too. And in her he finds another soul that suffers as greatly as he does from loneliness, neglect, abuse and solitude. He knows how to hurt her, but he doesn't exploit it for the petty satisfaction of hurting her. Yes, he does hurt her with it, but not for the sake of hurting her. He uses it to try to help her see that she is so much more than her parentage. She is better than them… she has risen above her lineage, while he longs to do the same but knows that he never can. He hurt her to heal her, like resetting a fracture that has begun to heal wrong. It may have hurt like hell but he did it with GOOD intentions... unlike her intentions when she called him a monster.

That's the thing about Ben… he has good intentions… even when he's doing bad things. His big picture goal isn't galactic domination, unlike Snoke and Hux, his goal is peace in the galaxy, an end to a war that's been raging off and on since the fall of the Old Republic. He is morally flexible enough to feel that most means are justified by the ends… but he is not morally bankrupt enough to support the obliteration of star systems or planets.

The connection he feels with her is a purely human connection. Two survivors who have found each other. Two lonely people who feel isolated even in a crowd but who find belonging with each other. Yeah, they have the Force, the mind bridge and all of that... but without that very real and very human connection the Force Bond would have been as useful/meaningful-useless/meaningless as Harry Potter's connection to Voldemorte.

If the entire Resistance had been destroyed on Crait and Rey had joined him in the ruling of the galaxy his big picture goal would have become a reality. Would killing all the rebels have been a dick move? Sure. But killing the rebels would have ended the war and brought peace to the galaxy.

Would he have been Palpatine or Snoke 2.0 as Supreme Leader? No. That's not Ben. He actually has good intentions, they didn't. If Rey had accepted his proposal he would have had the woman he desperately loves by his side to help his moral compass point north. (Make no mistake he is in love with her.)

Rey is not by his side, though. She chose a different path. Which pushed him onto a different path as well.

I can't say what Supreme Leader Kylo Ben will definitely be like… but I can tell you he will be better than his predecessors… because he does at least have good intentions and isn't completely morally bankrupt. His moral flexibility (thanks dad!) Will no doubt keep the Resistance alive for a while… but his good intentions will win out in the end… though maybe not in an orthodox way.

It is my belief that the big space battle we've been promised in Episode IX will not be between Resistance and First Order but a civil war between Hux/Snoke loyalists and Kylo Ben loyalists who will hail him as a great leader owing to the RESULTS toward galactic peace he will inevitably (and deservingly) be credited with.

Despite her rejection of his proposal I do think Rey genuinely cares for/loves Ben Solo. I believe that in the end she will save his life at some point in Episode IX.

I do believe that his turning out to be a decent Supreme Leader will ultimately be what wins Rey's heart over completely... though by the end of TLJ it's clearly very close to being there already.

Leia's death, I think, will have very little to do with Kylo's ultimate redemption, my money is on his love for Rey being his motivation.

He will never be fully light, just as he will never be fully dark, but he will find an acceptible middle ground before the end. He will, like his father before him, always be a bad boy who also happens to be a good man...but could never be a "good guy." Though he will prove to be a protagonist, he wont ever be the "good guy" that everybody calls for game night or pub hopping.

And that's more than fine by me.

230 notes · View notes

frederator-studios · 7 years ago

Text

Meet D.R. Beitzel, Creator of “The Bagheads”

DR Beitzel is a cartoonist, creative producer, and Pennsylvania fellow living a NYC dream. His day job is playing video games in a Times Square skyscraper; his evenings are occupied writing funnies and drawing comics for the likes of MAD Magazine, McSweeneys, and his own Phatypus Comics. And like several of his idols before him - Matt Groening, anyone? - he’s now making the petite leap from comics to cartoons. His GO! Cartoon “The Bagheads” is a historically accurate depiction of trash take-out travails with former roommates and his competitive clashes with his older brother. He maintains that the Goat (”Goooat”) is its sole foray into the cartoonish make-believe. He studied politics, so you know that he has 0 capacity to - dare I even suggest it!? - fib.

Sooo, where’d you study animation?

I didn’t! I first went to a community college in central Pennsylvania. It was full of a bunch of cool people - unfortunately not Donald Glover or Alison Brie, but fortunately also not Chevy Chase. Then I went to University of Pittsburgh and studied communications and political science.

Poli- what now?

Yeah... it was the Obama era. I thought “It’s all uphill from here! We’re just riding this political train into the Promised Land!” Reality hit hard. Back then, Jon Favreau was writing Obama’s ‘Yes We Can’ speeches, and I was all riled up. I wanted to be a speechwriter.

At one point a local city councilman asked me to write some remarks for him to use on Martin Luther King Day. I was idealistic and had a head full of steam, so I wrote this fiery, passionate stemwinder that drew on self-sacrifice and righteousness. I even referenced "Letter from Birmingham Jail”. The thing was, it was for a pancake breakfast at a rural Pennsylvania fire hall. So, I'm pretty sure he went out and said something like, "Thanks for coming. Go Eagles”. I was young and naive, and didn't realize that every speech didn't have to be "Ask not what your country can do for you ..."

When did you decide to NOT work in politics?

When I met a real life politician. (I laugh) No, really! He was a hometown representative - I’m from the Pennsylvania boonies. And he was a Republican, which was fine; I was just looking for a foot in the door. But when he found out I wasn’t, he asked me if I was a double agent. Like he actually suspected me of being in cahoots with the Dems to get dirt on him! So weird. And then finally, it came down to either an unpaid internship with a politician or a paid gig without a politician, so I chose to get paid.

Chasing that dollar. What was the paid gig?

I started out as a freelance editor for fashion and fitness blogs. The biggest perk - and irony - was that I was working in sweatpants from my couch. I got jobs at some TV and radio stations. At the end of college, I did do one unpaid internship, which was the best free work I ever did. It was at WQED, the PBS affiliate in Pittsburgh where Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was filmed back in the day. They still had a bunch of the sets just hanging around the hallways - and I even got to meet Mr. McFeely, who was exactly as nice as you’d hope. Eventually, I decided to leave Pennsylvania and move to New York, probably for the cheap rent. And I’ve been here ever since, working with mobile games. I even got to visit the old MAD Magazine office when I did a comic with them. It was covered in original art from some of the all-time greats.

What kinda stuff have you done for MAD Mag and others?

For MAD, I did a comic parody called “Captain Red America”. He’s like Captain America but only represents conservative states, so a lot of his enemies are things he doesn’t actually believe in. So, when he fights the super villain Climate Change, Cap can’t fight back because he doesn’t believe in climate change, so it just beats him up. I also did some writing for McSweeneys. They have some of the funniest stuff published anywhere, and I always wanted to write for them. I love doing comics, too, because if I have an idea, I can just put it out there—there aren’t really stakeholders involved. Recently, I just finished a Valentines comic for Bushwick Daily, a local Brooklyn blog, about the types of people you meet on Tinder.

How was transplanting to NYC - did you always want to move there?

Ehhh… I’m one of those unwilling New Yorkers who loves to hate it. The city has its upsides; it’s the best comedy scene. When I first arrived I joined UCB, which I think is mandatory when you move to New York - they just issue you a membership with your MetroCard. I always brag that I got to see Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson perform their Broad City stage show before it became a TV show. I love that community, and part of me wishes I’d have stuck with it longer, but I was getting pulled in a bunch of different directions, including a new job.

Oh yeah? Where at?

At Nickelodeon! I got the opportunity very randomly, about a month after I arrived. My (soon-to-be) boss called two people in for interviews, and I guess all that theatrical training from UCB paid off, because I was able to fake being a functional person long enough for her to hire me. It’s a really fun place to work: talented artists, toys everywhere, and sometimes wide-eyed kids are touring the office or testing games for us and you remember what we’re all doing there. The downside is that we’re in Times Square, so when I venture into the street I’m guaranteed to get a face-full of armpit. But playing video games is part of my job - I produce apps and games related to Nick shows.

That is the Dream. What’s your favorite game you’ve worked on?

Probably TMNT: Legends. We had a tremendous team of real fans, and the game looks great. Plus, I got to go visit Montreal where the team is based. I highly recommend that everyone spend years developing a game with a blockbuster studio, so you can visit, too.

Did you choose the cartoon life, or did the cartoon life choose you?

Wow, I really need to get “Cartoon Life” tattooed across my stomach. It was mutual selection. As a kid, I’d go to my grandma’s house and draw through all the paper she had. I looked up to Sergio Aragones of MAD. I was always drawing in the margins of the handouts at church - that’s the only way I’d sit still. But in high school, I stopped drawing for a bit - I guess I was partying too much, or maybe I just lost all my pencils in one of my oversized neon Tommy Hilfiger jackets. Then, I got back into it in college, drawing editorial comics at my school newspapers. I get inspired by people like Matt Groening. He was grinding out “Life in Hell” for like 40 years - well after he became a TV tycoon with The Simpsons and Futurama - just for the love of it.

How did you come to pitch for GO! Cartoons?

Just a random Google search, looking for places to send some stuff. I only barely met the deadline. I put together a thumbnail pitch and sent it on in.

Did “The Bagheads” change much from pitch through production?

The core story was always a brother and sister arguing over trash take-out. But it fluctuated in length quite a bit. There were a lot parts I added and then we condensed or cut out. There were intros, flashbacks - at some point, probably dragons and ice zombies - a lot did have to be trimmed down. Which was tough, because as you can probably tell, I’m a pretty big blowhard.

Who inspired the Bagheads, and were they always, you know… bag headed?

The Bagheads were always bagheads. As a little kid, I used to doodle baghead people with my brother, who inspired me to start drawing at all. We’d draw the guys from Guns ‘N Roses, but with bags over their heads—I have no idea why, but probably because I was kid who was crappy at drawing and couldn’t draw faces. Anyway, it became a running gag between us, we called them Guns ‘N Baggies. And over the years since, I’d draw those types every now and then -- a muscle baggie, an old baggie, whatever. So when I was getting ready to submit to Frederator, I knew the character’s personalities, but I didn’t know their appearances. So I reached into my childhood and pulled out the Bagheads.

What do you enjoy the most about Elbow and Artemis?

Well, what I enjoyed most about the short in general was working with so many talented people to bring it to life. I gotta give a big shout out to Eric, Kelsey, Michelle, JoJo, Sylvia, Paul, Bill, Kevin, Stephen, our cast and everyone else at Frederator and Salami Studios who made this happen. I did not do this alone - nowhere near it.

As for Artemis and Elbow, I’ve always liked duos with friendly antagonism, like Ren and Stimpy, Bugs and Daffy. Those good-natured conflicts where you’re kinda buddies, but you’re also kinda at each other’s throat. I like that Artemis and Elbow’s personalities create conflict: she’s hyper-competitive, he’s lazy. And then there’s their poor clueless dad, who’s working too much and constantly worried about the safety of his kids but doesn’t realize the biggest danger to them is each other. Those relationships can serve up a lot of fun, simple stories.

What inspired Nuke Man Jones, who’s still pulling off the eternal dunk as we speak?

Harlem Globe Trotters, for sure. They basically have superpowers. I was really looking for things that Elbow might see at a high altitude and I wanted something silly. Nuke Man is stuck up there in Earth’s orbit now, cursed to never complete that dunk like some Sisyphean baller fate.

The billion dollar question: do the Bagheads have bags for heads, or are they wearing bags over regular people heads?

Ya know, I’m gonna opt not to answer that one. The question of the bags can remain an unanswered mystery if it gets a series. It’ll be like The Leftovers for kids.

How about some favorite cartoons?

I mean, my Top 10 would just be The Simpsons, Seasons 1 through 10: that’s my all-time favorite TV, right there. South Park can’t get enough love—those guys have turned out classic after classic, and they’re the smartest gross-out humor in history. Looney Tunes, Ren & Stimpy, Beavis and Butthead - Mike Judge is a genius. Jim Henson and The Muppets, even though it’s not a cartoon; puppets count, right? MAD Magazine stuff like Sergio Aragones features or “Spy vs. Spy,” which was an inspiration for this Bagheads short.

I’m also really inspired by old school newspaper comics. It breaks my heart that they’re disappearing. Calvin and Hobbes is gorgeous and the most inspiring thing to me. I just read the entire series again, and it’s as good as ever. I appreciate that Bill Watterson refused all the licensing and merch deals people wanted to make for it. I read once that he left something like $400 million on the table.

That’s amazing.

Yeah. Once, I made a parody album cover for a local comic shop’s art show, and I made one based off of Notorious BIG’s “Ready to Die” cover: Notorious HOB’s “Ready to Live”. People wanted prints so I started selling them, and then it dawned on me that I was breaking the spirit of Watterson’s anti-commercial stance. So I stopped selling them, and just told people, “Sorry, they’re gone!”

What do you like to do outside of your work*? (*everybody else’s play)

I like to connect with my inner hillbilly - errr, inner hippie - whatever it is. I go to the beach and state parks pretty often. And I love stand-up: I just saw Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, Amy Schumer, Jeff Ross and Kevin Hart at Radio City Music Hall. It was insane.

What are you working on now?

At the moment, I’m investing all my resources in trying to score “Black Panther” tickets. Otherwise, I'm working on a musical animated series idea with two musician friends, Jeff and Matt. It's really cool and is somewhere between Hamilton and Freaks & Geeks. I'm also working on a comic strip about animals in a post-human world. It's really cartoony, except the president is a photo-realistic opossum whose speeches are just incoherent, ear-piercing screeches. I'm not sure where that falls on the fiction/non-fiction spectrum. So much for giving up politics!

youtube

Great talking with you D.R., thanks for the interview! Looking forward to all of your future endeavors. And I’ll be sure to vote for you if you ever return to politics / being a spy for those wily Pennsylvania Dems.

Everybody: keep up with Phatypus Comics on Facebook and Instagram, @phatypus! And here on Tumblr: @phatypuscomics

- Cooper

#The Frederator Interview #frederator #frederator studios #go! cartoons #interview #cartoon #comic #animation #comics #cartoons #new cartoon #The Bagheads #phatypus #phatypus comics #DR Beitzel

71 notes · View notes