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kwanisms · 7 months ago

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Dinner & Dessert — c.jh

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➮ virgin!Jongho × experienced!Reader wc: 3.6k summary: Jongho takes Y/N out on a nice dinner date but they decide to have dessert back at Y/N's dorm room. genres/themes/au: light fluff, smut; best friends to lovers (bff2l), college setting; non idol au, bff au, college au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than Jongho, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @bro-atz permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @suveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @simeonswhore @yangracha @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @chocolate-scoups @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin @juskz ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @starlitmark @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @confusedmoonchild777 @burnsmepls @nebulousbookshelf

join my taglist! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry it's taken so long to get this out but here's the next part of the Jongho Corruption Kink Miniseries. Thank you to Bro for reading this for me cause I wasnt sure if it was any good. I don't have much else to say about this other than I cranked this out in a couple hours so I hope you like it! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, praise (m receiving), slight body worship (f receiving), corruption kink, pussy drunk Jongho (man gets one taste and just goes feral), mild face fucking (f receiving), deepthroating, use of pet names (hers: baby, babe, angel; his: babe, baby), light fingering (f receiving), and I think that's all? Lemme know if I missed any!

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“I want you to teach me how to give oral.”

The words had caught you off guard as soon as they left your best friend boyfriend’s lips. Your lips parted in shock as you let the noodles from your meal slip off your fork while you fixed him with an incredulous stare.

Quickly, you glanced around before leaning in and meeting his gaze.

“We are in public, Jongho!” you hissed. He said nothing, merely blinking back at you like he hadn’t just said something inherently sexual and inappropriate for dinner conversation.

Not that you were opposed to this kind of behavior, you just didn’t expect it from your virgin best friend boyfriend. From you? Definitely but from him? Unexpected, but welcomed.

Ever since teaching him how to properly finger you, you’d seen an uptick in his eagerness and willingness to initiate sexual intimacy. Of course you’d never gone past touching one another as you didn’t want to pressure Jongho into doing anything he wasn’t ready for.

Clearly, he was ready for more.

“So?” he muttered, glancing down at his plate and back up as you set your utensil down and picked up your napkin. This was the last thing you expected when he asked you out for dinner.

Jongho had texted you right after class and asked if you wanted to get dinner. You initially had expected him to bring take out over, a pizza or some other favorite place but instead, he told you to be ready to leave in an hour and told you to dress up.

It wasn’t entirely like him to be so assertive but since you started seeing each other (among other things), Jongho’s confidence had seen a huge boost and you like to think you had a hand in that although you knew it was entirely on him.

He’d shown up to your dorm looking less like your chaste best friend boyfriend and was instead oozing every ounce of sex appeal you knew he had. The ride to the restaurant had been silent mostly but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest and you were thankful that he was distracted by driving as it gave your eyes the chance to wander and appreciate everything they could take in.

Jongho had gone beyond your expectations, going so far as to make a reservation, meaning he had to have been planning this for at least a week. You were beyond impressed by his efforts. You remembered a conversation the two of you had a week or so ago where he assured you that what you had was more than just the physical stuff to him. He wanted more and you did, too. It was just hard to keep your hands to yourself sometimes.

So when he suddenly sprang this on you, to say you were shocked was an understatement.

Your lips threatened to turn into a smirk before you spoke.

“Well, at least you’re taking me out to dinner first,” you mused, making Jongho look down at his plate as the hostess walked by, guiding a couple to another table. He looked back up to meet your gaze. “So will you?” he asked softly, eyes shining with a curiosity that was both adorable but also played into your more carnal desire to corrupt your virginal boyfriend in every way possible.

You lifted your wine glass slowly, taking a sip and maintaining eye contact, setting it back down before answering him. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” you asked. Jongho inhaled and exhaled slowly before nodding fervently. You admired how hard he tried to keep his composure but you could tell under the facade, he was eager to have you under him again.

‘Cute.’

Jongho would be a liar if he said he wasn’t eager to have you under him again. Ever since he’d made you come with just his fingers, he’d wondered what it’d be like to have you come undone on his tongue. He thought about it far more than he cared to admit even to himself.

Ever since that first night, months ago, when you made him come in his pants, he’d been insatiable. Knowing you wanted him as much as he wanted you and then some gave him a much needed confidence boost. Sure, this relationship was about more than just sex but no one could blame him for wanting to be intimate with his best friend girlfriend.

As he held your gaze, hoping you’d say yes to his proposal, you toyed with your fork, no doubt contemplating his words rather than if you wanted to continue eating. He hoped you’d say yes. He was about to beg (not like he wasn’t entirely above it. Not when he was dying to get a taste) when you smiled that lovely smile that always managed to give him butterflies, make his brain turn to mush, and his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, he was down so bad.

Before you could respond, the server returned to the table and Jongho took the opportunity to end the night. “Could we get the check please?” he asked. The server nodded before looking between the two of you. “Were we thinking of any dessert?” he asked. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly, thanking him before he nodded and walked away to get your bill.

“We’ve got dessert at home.”

No sooner than you were back in your dorm did Jongho have your door shut, locked your back pressed against it, lips on yours as his hands wandered, grabbing the material of your dress and slowly bunching it up past your thighs. “Jjongie,” you murmured as his lips left yours to trail kisses down the side of your neck. “We should probably take these off,” you added, trying to undo the button on your jacket.

Jongho let out an animalistic growl, grabbing your hands and pinning them against the wall.

“I’m getting to it,” he mumbled, lips attaching to your neck once more but his hands keeping your wrists firmly against the wood of your door. “Well hurry up,” you teased as you tried to pull against his hold on your wrists. To your surprise, Jongho gave in easily, letting go of your wrists and opting instead to fumble with the buttons of your jacket.

Once he managed to undo them, the fabric just seemed to slide off you as your own hands worked quickly to unzip his own jacket and push it off him. You felt his hands trying to pull at your dress, a silent plea to remove it but you had other plans, instead taking a temporary lead and guiding him to your bed only for him to gently but firmly push you down onto it.

Before he could guide you further back, you grabbed him by the hips, holding him steady as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Let me take care of you first, baby,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper but more than loud enough in the silence of your dorm room for him to hear.

Wordlessly, Jongho’s hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin and down over your bottom lip. “A-are you sure?” he asked nervously. You smiled up at him, not breaking eye contact as you slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. “Yes,” you whispered again.

“I’m sure.”

It didn’t take you long to pull his pants down just enough to expose his hard cock, hidden in the confines of his underwear. You carefully pressed your palm against it, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his boxers. You heard him inhale sharply and fought the urge to smirk. You’ve barely touched him and yet he was so responsive. You felt a small surge of pride over being able to have such an effect on him merely by touching him over his underwear.

Not wanting to keep him, or yourself, waiting, you ran your hand up, tucking the tips of your fingers under the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulling the material down until his cock sprang free, standing proudly and waiting for you to touch.

Tearing your gaze away from Jongho’s temporarily, you wrapped your hand around the base and gave him a tentative stroke, enjoying the way he let out a whimper. As much as you wanted to tease him about it, you chose not to, wanting to make him feel good.

Parting your lips, you took him by surprise by taking him into your mouth without any warning, making him gasp, one of his hands moving to your head, fingers tightening slightly in your hair. “Shit,” he hissed, breath already coming out raggedly.

Oh how you wanted to tease him for it so badly. Falling apart so quickly. ‘Another time.’

You sank slowly, taking more and more of him in your mouth, the weight of his cock heavy on your tongue. He tried to focus on his breathing, trying to keep his composure no doubt but you knew his resolve would crumble the moment you started bobbing your head.

And crumble it did.

No sooner than you started moving, did he let out a loud moan. Almost too loud. If anyone had been walking by your room at that exact moment, there would be no doubt in their mind what was going on behind the door. Not that you’d mind. You really didn’t care what your dorm neighbors thought.

The only thing that mattered was that your boyfriend, your oh-so-sweet and innocent boyfriend, was in your room, cock in your mouth, and the eagerness to learn how to please you after you got him off. It seemed only fair to show him what you could do first before teaching him what to do.

A preemptive reward if you will.

Each bob of your head had Jongho choking back a moan, resisting the urge to bite his fist to muffle the sounds even more than he was. You pulled back, his cock falling from your tongue to look up at him. Your hand took over temporarily as you looked up at him and spoke.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t care who hears you.”

Jongho shook his head. “I don’t want your neighbors to complain,” he whispered, stifling a groan as your hand worked him even more. “Fuck them” you retorted. “I want to hear how good I make you feel, baby,” you added. Jongho studied your face for a moment, contemplating whether he should just toss his inhibitions aside but the decision was made for him when you took him back in your mouth, letting out an unrestrained moan.

You felt a swell of pride in your chest as you moved, each unrestrained moan a dulcet melody to your ears. You continued to move, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back. Glancing up, you met his heated gaze, and felt that distinct throb between your legs. “Babe,” he moaned, gently stroking your hair. “Let me—” whatever he was about to say faltered as he let out a whine, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

You barely gave him a chance to recover as you sank further, taking his cock further until the head rested just in the back of your throat. Jongho let out a choked moan as you swallowed around him. “Fuck, baby, wait,” Jongho gasped, cock twitching in your mouth. You pulled back and looked up at him.

“I was about to cum,” he panted, making you smirk. “That’s the goal,” you said softly, licking your lips. “Just, give me a moment,” Jongho said breathlessly and you nodded, watching him regulate his breathing. The silence was punctuated only by his ragged breathing.

“Uhm, Y/N?” he finally spoke. You looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Could I… try something?” His voice sounded so soft and full of curiosity. How could you deny his genuine curiosity? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Of course,” you replied sweetly. “What would you like to try?”

Of course, at that moment, your sweet boyfriend’s words failed him. “I-I… I w-wanted to…” You smiled up at him. “Take your time,” you cooed. “I’m not going anywhere. And don’t feel embarrassed for asking for anything. I’m happy to let you try anything you—”

“Could I fuck your face?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to come out of his mouth but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Oh,” you said softly, caught off guard. Jongho’s face flushed in the low light of your room. “S-sorry,” he muttered quickly. “F-forget I said anything!” He started to pull his underwear up but you stopped him. “I told you that you have nothing to be embarrassed about, babe,” you said softly.

“If you want to try that, we certainly can.”

Jongho stared at you, eyes widening as you tugged his pants and underwear back down. “R-really?” he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. ‘Cute.’ You nodded, a smile ever present on your face.

“Of course,” you replied. “If I tap your thigh twice, that means stop, okay?” you asked. He nodded excitedly. You licked your lips before parting them and allowing him to guide the head of his cock into your mouth. You breathed in slowly and nodded, letting him know you were ready.

The first thrust was shallow, almost as if he was testing the waters. You nodded again. He gave you another shallow thrust. You pulled back quickly. “Don’t worry about me,” you said softly. “Just go for it. I’ll stop you if I need to.”

The moment his cock was back in your mouth, Jongho did as you said and went for it. One hand held your head in place, giving you a few tentative thrusts before just letting go. Each thrust had the tip hitting the back of your throat, making lewd sounds fill the room.

Jongho’s hand moved to the back of your head and you were taken by surprise as he pushed your head further, forcing the head of his cock into the back of your throat. You gagged, despite trying to fight it but he didn’t let up. Instead, he gave you another thrust, pushing further into your throat.

“Oh shit,” you heard him curse. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue and before he could pull you off him, you grabbed his hips, holding him firmly in place. “F-fuck, I’m gonna—”

His words were cut off by a moan as he came, load spilling down your throat. You held him still until you were sure he was done before pulling back, coughing slightly. “Oh shit, are you okay, angel?” Jongho asked quickly, taking your face in his hands and inspecting your face. You smiled at him.

“More than okay,” you answered, carefully pulling his underwear back up over his softening cock and zipping up his pants. Jongho pulled you into a kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue.

“Lie back,” he muttered against your lips, leaning over you as he spoke. You scooted backwards on your bed as Jongho climbed over you, lips pressing against yours as his hand bunched your dress up against your hip. “Can I remove this?” he asked softly. You nodded, letting out a soft giggle as his fingers skimmed against your bare skin as he hiked your dress up.

“Wait,” you said softly, grabbing his hands. Jongho looked up, meeting your gaze. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, searching your face. You cupped his cheek tenderly. “Take your time,” you muttered. “Don’t rush things.”

Jongho nodded, letting your dress fall against the bed, exposing only below your navel, giving him full view of your red lace panties. “Oh fuck,” he whispered. “You’re going to be the death of me, babe.” You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a smile as Jongho pressed a couple chaste kisses against your collar before glancing up at you, his hands slowly sliding down your chest, cupping your breasts briefly.

“I know I’m supposed to be learning to give oral,” he started, looking back up at you. “But could I please, take this off? Please, baby, please,” he murmured. “I really just wanna see your beautiful body.”

Hearing the compliment from him made your cheeks grow warm. “Another time, okay? Let’s focus on the lesson,” you replied. Jongho sighed and nodded, slowly kissing down your body over the material of your dress until he reached your stomach. He looked up to meet your gaze.

“Now what?” he asked. “Take your time,” you started. “Just do what you feel comfortable doing.”

Without another word, you stifled a giggle as his kisses tickled your skin. “Should I take these off?” he asked, fingers toying with the lace of your panties. You nodded. “Go ahead.”

You lifted your hips as Jongho pulled the fabric down, removing them and tossing them aside. “Do I just…” he trailed off. “Just do what you feel comfortable doing. You’ve touched me before, if you want to start with that, I’m fine with that. I just want you to be comfortable,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as Jongho looked up at you from between your thighs.

“Or I could just…” he trailed off, spreading your lips before giving you a light lick, tongue flat against your clit. “Yeah,” you said breathily as he dove back in. “You could do that, too.”

“Remember what I told you before. Focus on the cli— ah!” you gasped as you felt his tip of his tongue pass over your clit, already sensitive from not getting any attention earlier. “Like that?” he asked, peeking at you as you fell back against the bed. “Y-yeah, like that,” you answered.

Jongho gave you a cheeky smile which you didn’t see and went back to it, diving back in. Each pass of his tongue over your aching clit had you moaning, the backs of your thighs resting against his shoulders as he buried his face between your legs.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” you asked between moans, one hand moving down to tangle in his dark locks. “Cause it sure seems like you know what you’re doing.” Jongho hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the pleasure. “I’m sure,” he finally managed to get out, licking his lips. “If I had, I think we’d already be past this,” he added.

“Oh?” you asked, lifting your head. “Where would we be, then?”

Jongho pulled back, slowly caressing your thigh. “With you on your stomach, my cock buried in your pussy,” he replied nonchalantly. Your jaw fell slack, surprised at the sudden surge of confidence exuding from your boyfriend. “Should we skip oral and go straight to that or—?” you asked, resisting the urge to smirk when Jongho frowned at you.

“No,” he answered. “I want to learn this,” he continued. You reached to take his chin in your hand. “You seem to have a pretty good handle on it,” you complimented. “But by all means, keep going. Make me cum all over that handsome face.”

Jongho didn’t wait for another invitation, pulling you to meet his face, his tongue continuing its assault on your clit. You’d had partners go down on you before but none of them had ever been this eager. It was like once he’d gotten a taste, there was no stopping Jongho until you came, which you weren’t complaining about, not when you were being pushed to the edge every time he kissed, licked, or sucked. You wondered if he’d watched something or read something for pointers.

Maybe that’s what spurred this whole thing on. Had he been doing ‘homework’ so to speak? And he wanted to take this next step and prove himself to you? Whatever his motivation, you weren’t sure nor could you care when your thighs were threatening to squeeze around his head.

“That’s it,” you gasped, resisting the urge to grind against his tongue. “Just like that, baby. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

The praise did wonders for Jongho’s ego and it showed as his actions became more confident, making your back arch off the mattress as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Close,” you muttered. “I’m so close.” You heard him hum and felt two fingers toying with your slit before sinking into you.

Where the fuck did he learn that? No, when did he learn that? “Oh fuck, keep going, baby. You’re doing so good. How are you so good at this?” you hissed as his fingers curled inside you, pushing you over the edge and you gasped out a warning that you were about to cum.

You were grateful your boyfriend was so strong or you might have crushed his head. Instead, he held your thighs open as your orgasm washed over you, your hips moving to ride out your high until your body shook from overstimulation. “Okay, baby, that’s good,” you said breathlessly.

Jongho wiped his lips and chin on the back of his hand and grinned at you, clearly proud of his work. “How was that?” he asked, sounding just as proud as he looked. You lightly slapped his hand on your thigh and chuckled. “You passed. You got an A in fact.”

Jongho climbed over you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “An A, huh?” he asked softly. You hummed, nodding in response. “Hmm,” he murmured, giving you another kiss.

“How would I go about getting some extra credit then?”

Your eyes opened and looked up at him. “Extra credit?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Jongho said softly, kissing you again, one of his hands sneaking between your bodies.

“Gotta turn that A into an A plus somehow.”

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therealcocoshady · 2 months ago

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Kinktober - Day 6 - Sex Work

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : For the "sex work" prompt of Kinktober 2024 I thought I'd mix it up with a request I received as well. Granted, it's playing on the words of the prompt rather than the actual theme but I hope you guys like it nonetheless ! ✨ Also, I did have a second idea, which I might end up doing too 😏

CW : Mention of sex work - Flirty texts - Mention of hook up

The studio was buzzing with energy as the podcast got underway. Marshall sat at the head of the table, wearing his usual hoodie and cap combo, arms crossed casually as he listened to the banter among the other rappers. One former D12 member had decided to launch a podcast and, when he was ask to be the first guest, he was happy to show up to support his friend. In the past years, he’d grown more and more picky when it came to doing interviews and appearances, but he was glad he did this, supporting his buddy and talking about hip-hop in general, instead of just him. It was much better than random journalists asking about his professional life. The conversation had flowed from the evolution of hip-hop to its biggest influencers, and now, they were moving into more contemporary topics—reviewing music videos from up-and-coming artists.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when they cued up the next video for review. When the host dropped your name, though, his head perked up. You, the firecracker of a lyricist he had been « mentoring » for a while now. You weren’t to Shady Records, but you had worked together enough for him to respect your raw talent and commendable work ethic. He had been kind enough to offer some guidance and even some beats from his vault, and while you were still making your way in the industry, you had already built a reputation as an outspoken voice in the game. You had a good rapport, too. In private, you’d shared more than just a few laughs, and there was a mutual admiration that sometimes tiptoed into the realm of flirtation—compliments exchanged, gazes held a bit longer than necessary—but nothing too serious. It was always playful, a line neither of you had crossed.

The host grinned, looking at Marshall. « So, this is Y/N’s latest track. It’s called ‘Sex Work’. You haven’t seen this one yet, have you? ». He shook his head, a little curious but still cool. « Nah, she didn’t send it to me. ». His friend looked at him and let out a laugh. “You’re in for a surprise, then”. The video started, and the beat dropped—a heavy bass line that immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. But it wasn’t just the music that made Marshall sit up a little straighter. The visuals hit hard. You were on-screen, dressed in bold, provocative outfits, your presence commanding the camera. The scenes shifted rapidly, moving through a series of sexually charged, daring shots. It was unlike anything you’d done before.

You were playing with the very imagery that dominated so much of hip-hop—the kind of objectification women often faced. Except you were not the object here. She was the one in control, flipping the narrative. The lyrics hit just as hard as the visuals, each line razor-sharp, calling out the double standards in the industry, using clever wordplay ad metaphors that drew a parallel between the music industry and sex work, too.

Marshall was caught off guard. The video was bold, even provocative. You were owning your sexuality in a way that was direct, unapologetic, and powerful. But then it hit him—some of the scenes were direct callbacks to his older videos. One shot mirrored the set of his “Superman” video, and in another, you were standing where one of his infamous adult actresses had stood, reclaiming that space. « Damn, » one of the other hosts on the podcast muttered, eyes wide. Marshall’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet. The lyrics kept going, and it became clear what you were doing—turning the tables on the misogynistic narratives you had been surrounded by as an up and coming female rapper. The video wasn’t just about sex appeal; it was a statement. You were deliberately playing with the same imagery that had been used to objectify women for decades, challenging it, and throwing it back in everyone’s faces. By the time the video ended, the room was dead silent for a moment. The host was the first to speak. « Marshall, man… what are you thinking? ». He leaned back in his chair, taking a breath. He could feel the eyes on him, waiting for some kind of reaction, maybe even expecting. You weren’t playing by anyone’s rules and it was the type of attitude he respected, especially then someone pushed the pen that far. « Well, first off, » he said, glancing around the room before locking eyes with the host, « she killed that ». The other guys laughed, but he wasn’t joking. « She’s always been fearless with her lyrics, » he continued, « but this? This is next level. She’s calling out the hypocrisy in the industry, and she’s doing it in a way that makes you pay attention. It’s bold as hell. » He paused for a second, gathering his thoughts. « I didn’t expect her to take shots at some of the imagery I’ve used in my older videos, but I respect it. She’s making a statement. She’s an artist, it’s what she should be doing. It’s what we do as emcees, you know ? ». The others nodded, clearly impressed with his take. « So you’re not bothered by it? I mean, some of those scenes were pretty close to your old stuff ».

« Nah, » he said, shaking his head. « If anything, I think it’s cool. That’s the kind of artist she is—smart, sharp, and always saying something with her work. Whether it’s a track about life or, you know… this ». He chuckled a little at the end, the edge of a smirk tugging at his lips. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected you to pull something this bold. Sure, you had always been outspoken, always ready to challenge the norms, but this? This was next-level boldness. The conversation moved on to other topics, but Marshall’s mind lingered on your video. He knew it was going to blow up and, truth be told, he was curious to know where that was headed.

The days following the release of your music video and Marshall’s appearance on the podcast were a whirlwind of noise. Social media was ablaze with debates, and hip-hop blogs pumped out articles almost hourly, all focused on one central question: Was Y/N dissing Eminem ? Marshall, sitting in the comfort of his home, scrolled through his phone, shaking his head at the ridiculous headlines. « Y/N’s Bold Move: Diss or Power Play Against Eminem?" or "New Queen in Town? Is Y/N Coming for Eminem’s Throne? ». Everyone had their own theory, and the conversation was only growing louder. What had started as you making a critique of misogyny had snowballed into a supposed rivalry between you and Em—a narrative the media had hungrily latched onto. It wasn’t surprising to anyone, though. Of course it was going to make for good headlines and farm engagement rates, even though it was a shame to have it take away from the main topic. Interviews, radio shows, podcasts—everyone was asking the same question: What did Eminem think ?

Marshall had been ignoring the noise for as long as he could, figuring people would see the bigger picture. But the hype refused to die down. Paul’s phone blew up with texts and calls, from journalists looking for comments to fellow artists wondering if there was any beef brewing. His team’s inbox was flooded. He wasn’t surprised that you were stirring things up—you were unapologetically yourself, always—but the whole “diss” angle? That was ridiculous. A week after the video dropped, Marshall finally caved. He knew he had to address it, especially after hearing that some major podcasts were going to dive deeper into the so-called "feud." There was no way he’d let anyone twist this into something it wasn’t. It was sort of unlike him, but he was pissed off about lies being spread and people making headlines about an imaginary feud. He wouldn’t have cared to address it if it had been anyone else, but he actually liked and respected you. He also had enough self-awareness to know that, if he let the whole thing escalate, some people would take « his side » and turn on you. Frankly, he didn’t have the time or energy for some stupid quid pro quo situation and he deemed it best to address the topic.

That morning, he agreed to hop on a Shade45 radio show that had been asking him for a statement for days. As the interview started, the host wasted no time jumping into the topic. « Alright, Boss, we’ve got to get straight to it, » the host said, his voice filled with anticipation. « Y/N. We’ve all seen the video. She’s been pretty outspoken, and a lot of people are taking her comments about the double standards in hip-hop and the scenes from your old videos as… well, a diss. What do you think? ». Marshall took a deep breath and leaned forward into the mic, choosing his words carefully but keeping his usual bluntness. « Look, » he started, « Y/N is not dissing me. She’s not coming for me or trying to take shots. What she’s doing is making a statement. A damn good one, too. People keep saying she’s going too far or whatever, but this is the same stuff that I, and a lot of other artists, have done for years. She’s just flipping the script, and now, suddenly, people want to act like it’s a problem ». The host nodded, but there was still an edge of curiosity. « So, you’re not offended by her recreating some of your visuals? Some people took it as her calling you out ». Marshall smirked, shaking his head. « Nah, man. Y/N’s one of the most talented artists out there right now. She’s smart. She’s sharp. And she’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind, even if it makes people uncomfortable. That’s what makes her great. She’s doing exactly what artists are supposed to do—make people think, make people talk. It’s the same shit I have always done with my music. And if she’s calling out hypocrisy ? Good for her. I’ve been there. I know how that goes ».

He leaned back again, more comfortable now. « You know, I’ve worked with her, produced a couple of tracks for her, and I’ve always been impressed by how real she keeps it. She’s not here to play by anyone’s rules. She’s doing what she wants, and I respect that. If you’re mad at her for being direct, maybe it’s because you don’t like what she’s saying ». The host paused for a moment, letting Em’s words settle. « So, to be clear—you fully support what she’s doing? ». « Yeah, » Marshall said without hesitation. « Y/N’s just getting started, and if people are mad now? They better buckle up, ‘cause she’s only going to keep pushing boundaries. She’s not afraid to call out the industry for its hypocrisy. And if anyone thinks she’s dissing me, they’re missing the point. She’s making space for herself, and she’s doing it her way. That’s what being an artist is all about ». The host grinned, seemingly satisfied with his take. « Well, there you have it, folks. Marshall’s got nothing but respect for Y/N. » Marshall chuckled, nodding. « Damn right. I’ll say this though : I’ve spent enough time with her to know that it’s more fun to be her friend than to be her enemy. So, anyone who’s been talking shit… Better be ready ».

After the podcast dropped, the noise around the supposed « diss » started to die down. Marshall’s words carried weight, and now that he had set the record straight, the media was forced to pivot. Instead of focusing on a non-existent feud, the conversation shifted toward what you had always intended—your critique of double standards. Now that people didn’t worry about a possible feud, they seemed more disposed to focus on the subject matter and the narrative surrounding you quickly took a much more positive turn. That evening, Marshall was sitting in his home studio, tweaking some beats when his phone buzzed on the table next to him. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen.

Y/N : Thanks for having my back.

He stared at the text for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. He wasn’t surprised you’d reached out; after all, you weren’t the type to let things go unacknowledged. He liked that about you. But he could tell by the simple message that you appreciated the support more than you’d probably say out loud. He picked up his phone and tapped out a reply.

Marshall : Always. Not that you needed it, though.

He fully meant it when he said that you didn’t need his support. He knew for a fact that you’d clap back if needed. There was a brief pause before your next message popped up.

Y/N : Yeah, but you saying it shuts up a lot of people.

He chuckled to himself, nodding as he read the words.

Marshall : Let ‘em talk. You’re doing your thing. If they’re mad, that means you’re doing something right.

Y/N : Guess I learned from the best.

Marshall leaned back in his chair, looking at your message for a second before typing a final reply.

Marshall : Nah, you’re making your own lane. Keep killing it.

He put his phone down, guessing the conversation was probably over for the night. But even as he turned back to the track he was working on, he couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of pride. You were carving out your own space in the industry, no matter how many people tried to twist her message or pit you against him. In the short while he’d known you, he had seen you evolve as an artist and, since you’d never failed to share how much his music had shaped your artistry, he felt proud.

Y/N : Also, I’m glad that you got what I did with the references to your video. It was an hommage, not a shot.

Marshall grinned, running his thumb over the screen as he typed his reply.

Marshall : Oh, I know. But now I’m thinking, if it was an hommage, why didn’t you just ask me to be in it ?

The dots on the screen danced for a moment, and then your reply came through, as sharp as your lyrics.

Y/N : I was only hiring professionals. ;)

Marshall laughed out loud, shaking his head. He liked your quick wit, the way you never backed down from a little back-and-forth. If anyone else had thrown that line at him, he might’ve let it go. But not you.

Marshall : You don’t think I’m professional enough?

Y/N : In music ? Sure. Can’t speak for the rest, though.

There was a pause as he crafted his next response, his smirk growing wider. He enjoyed it too much, couldn’t help himself.

Marshall : If you want to find out just how professional I can get, all you gotta do is ask.

He sent the message, leaning back on his chair. He could practically feel the heat of your flirtation building through the screen. You didn’t take long to reply, as bold as ever.

Y/N : Oh, I’ll keep that in mind.

There was no more texting that night, but the tension lingered in the silence that followed. Your dynamic had always teetered on the edge of something more, something neither of them had fully explored. Both of you had always kept it on the safe side. The energy between them you felt charged in a way it hadn’t before, following these texts and he liked it. There was something irresistible about a beautiful woman who was also smart and bold. However, he chose not to let it get to his head, not wanting to be that guy. Being a woman in a male-dominated industry, you probably had enough of those, even though he wouldn’t mind showing you the extent of his bedroom skills. He meant it, though. All you had to do was ask. He had made a point to avoid getting involved with celebs and fellow artists but he’d gladly make an exception for you.

Weeks later, the two of you found yourself in New York for an awards show. The ceremony was everything you’d expect—long, loud, and full of celebrities. But Marshall wasn’t really focused on the stage. He hadn’t seen you yet, but he knew you were there. He’d heard your name more than once as people in the crowd gushed about you, your bold video, and the statement you’d made in the industry. Your viral video had made you gain tons of recognition and everyone was gushing about you, even the ones who had been quick to assume you were dissing him in a desperate clout-chasing attempt. After the show, as he headed back to his hotel room, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Y/N : Nice performance tonight. Very professional. The Bradford. Suite 1602. If your offer still stands.

Marshall stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the message. The directness of it sent a jolt through him. There wasn’t any question about what you were implying. The words lingered on his screen, bold and unflinching, just like you. For a moment, he just stood there, processing. Then, without a second thought, he found himself heading toward the exit of his hotel. There was no hesitation now. His heart picked up speed as he walked out into the night, flagged down a cab, and gave the driver the name of your hotel, not too far from his. The drive was short, but each second felt drawn out, like anticipation was pulling time apart. As the cab pulled up in front of The Bradford, Marshall stepped out, the city lights glowing faintly around him. He walked through the doors and headed straight to the elevator, heart pounding just a little harder with each passing floor. When he reached your floor, the quiet of the hallway contrasted sharply with the rush of energy coursing through him. He stopped in front of Suite 1602, staring at the number on the door for a moment before knocking, his mind running through the million ways this could go. The door opened slowly, and there you were, standing barefoot in a simple yet alluring outfit that somehow made his pulse race faster than anything you’d worn in that music video. Your eyes met his with the same fire he’d always admired, but now, it was mixed with something more, something unspoken between the two of you that had finally found its moment. « Wasn’t sure you’d actually show up, » you said, your voice low but teasing. Marshall smirked, stepping inside. « Told you all you had to do was ask ». You grinned back, eyes glinting as you shut the door behind him. « Well, I am asking ».

If you liked this and want to support a struggling student, you can buy me a cup of coffee. ☕️

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #kinktober 2024 #kinktober prompts #kinktober #eminem kinktober

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earlycuntsets · 8 days ago

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english translation:

pg 1. "VISIONS

MUSIC FROM PASSION

www.visions.de

Gerard Way

and the fight against one's own image"

pg 2.

"Double attempt

my chemical rumanre

It is the story of an album that never became one and a band that is fighting against its external image: My Chemical Romance reinvent themselves as a pop art band, as futuristic Mad Maxes with funky laser guns in a universe of quotes, cross-references and broken meta levels. The end result is Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys - a record that would not exist in this form if My Chemical Romance had not failed at the first attempt.

TEXT: JAN SCHWARZKAMP

PHOTOS: SEBASTIAN ARTZ"

pg 3. " A new My Chem song with rough edges was Black Dragon Fighting Society, a hardcore hit in the Misfits style that suited the band perfectly. That's right: "was" and "stood". Because that too is now buried in the archives. "Some people will probably hate me for saying something like that, but: The song is more punk than punk. Nobody expected us of all people to record a song like that. The song was deliberately not meant to be longer than a minute and a half, because only the best songs are that short, if you think of Minor Threat alone." At this point, Gerard has no idea that he is about to make a new start and that Black Dragon Fighting Society will not survive. But there is something that will point the way for the future. A comic. "I'm currently working on a project called The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, which will be completely different to anything you've ever seen from me before. It will be my first adult comic, extremely violent. Imagine it as a sci-fi lo-fi punk odyssey, full of references to the Ramones and with a lot of laser-creaking." The stuff you can knit an album out of, as we will see.

SECOND ATTEMPT

End of September 2010, ten months later. A trailer for the new My Chem album has been circulating online for three days. Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys is what it is called. The trailer shows the four protagonists: Gerard, Mikey and the two guitarists Frank Iero and Ray Toro. No sign of black parade uniforms, but My Chemical Romance now look like four Tank Girls, reinforced by a sissy rollerboy. There is also action à la Mad Max vs. Power Rangers, a bit of 70s road movie flair in the style of Vanishing Point and the crude, grainy look of grindhouse cinema. The band's reinvention is complete. The light-shy moth has turned into a bright butterfly that fires laser beams.

My Chemical Romance - minus Frank, who is looking after his newborn twins - have been answering journalists' questions since the early hours of the morning. The most luxurious place to do this is the legendary Sunset Marquis rock star hangout in West Hollywood. Let's start where we left off the recording device ten months ago: with the comic, which has now become an album. "Yes, the comic is about exactly the same topics that are also found on the album," confirms Gerard. "The nice thing about the album is that there is no overarching story, it has no concept whatsoever." Gerard, now with red hair and a healthier complexion, is sitting on a couch again, this time without a cigarette. Ray and Mikey support him. Or not. Because if anyone has anything to say here, it's only Gerard.

No concept, then. But soon a comic and finally the corresponding album. On the record we meet the DJ called Dr. Death Defying

From black and long to blonde and short to black and the parade moved on. The new costumes are colorful, the record is not as grim as the last ones. "The new record is the most important thing. The last video we had I had this color palette of red.[makeup]"

FACE

With make-up and goth outfits, Gerard looked for a while like the illegitimate son of Robert Smith and Tim Burton, with his hair tied back. In that respect, My Chemical Romance only had themselves to blame for being perceived by some as a dark puppet show. At least you have to give them credit for being early on in this. "We did what we did, regardless of what others thought of it. When the whole thing became popular, we stopped it because we were simply done with the style. After all, our aim with The Black Parade was not to put on a cabaret show, but rather an expansive, theatrical death rock show."

HANDS

Gerard doesn't play an instrument, even though he's a guitarist. He takes care of the lyrics and conceptual ideas. Armed with a notebook, sketchpad and laptop, he works on his comics mainly on tour. "That works best. I sit in front of my computer and write scripts. I get the most done on the road because I have a lot of free time. And then there are the nights. So what do I do after a show? I write until two in the morning."

FEET

At concerts, Gerard walks a few hundred meters. No instrument ties him to one place. He is one of my absolute favorite front men," says brother Mikey. He is General Patton, that is his role. He is also so intelligent and eloquent. Having a brother in the band makes a lot of things easier. We would hang out together even if we didn't play in a band together."

HAIR

long. And now: red. The gloom has gone, the black look is sunny, the music - brighter. "The lyrics of the new songs on The Black Parade are so dark that I wrote them. The opposite." One change that the band turned to was that of teenagers. They were already fed up with black and white."

COMPLEXION

You can't tell from the photo, but the California sun is rubbing off on Way's new home. Gerard looks like he's just come back from a beach holiday. "I'm quite happy about that. There's no reason for me to stay pale," he says. Brother Mikey adds: "29 years of pale skin is enough."

T-SHIRT

"It has no political meaning. The American flag is used all the time anyway." In the interview, Way is wearing Chucks with the Stars Spangled Banner. We'll probably have to ask ourselves that question more often in the near future. The record is clearly not political, and neither is the look. We're just using it - a flag is like a tribal, you mark your territory with it. Our corporate identity, the symbol with the spider, is also such a powerful, universally applicable symbol."

PANTS & JACKET

The look changed: Gerard and the band won't be appearing on stage in simple denim outfits any time soon. "We wore marching band uniforms for three or four years," says Mikey. When we came back from the Black Parade tour, we had to redefine our lives and deconstruct ourselves. We wanted to drop everything and see what was left. Killjoys is the result of that - as if we were rebelling against The Black Parade, taking a stand against our own last album. A trailer shows the band as colorful end-time punks with laser pistols and Pontiac Trans Ams. Fans are already sending us photos, inventing color concepts for their Killjoy gangs and making their own weapons." "Sure, there have been things like that before," says Gerard, but what band offers that today? It's like a new Star Wars movie coming out. Nobody knows exactly who this Darth Maul is yet, but people are already dressing up like him. "Last time, our fans designed their own uniforms. This Killjoys thing is a bit more personal because it leaves more room for interpretation. The kids aren't dressing up like us anymore, they're creating their own characters."

pg 4. "Dr. Death. He delivers the intro, reads a traffic report and hosts the spectacle. There is a trailer for the record and now also a music video for the single Na Na Na, which is about our heroes and their new alter egos Party Poison (Gerard), Kid Cobra (Mikey), Fun Ghoul (Frank) and Jet Star (Ray). That's not a concept? "Well, yes, it is. But what it is supposed to be above all is a big pop art experiment. As it progresses, the fans and we will add more and more to the story. For the comic itself, my co-author and I already have precise ideas about what will happen. But we could also still question everything. If we shoot scenes in the desert, for example, they will dictate what the comic will look like." Aha. Let's wait and see instead of going into too much detail. Otherwise we'll get tangled up like in the confusing universe of Coheed And Cambria.

When we met last year, there were seven songs to listen to, none of which made it onto the album, or at most in a heavily modified form. What happened?

"When we met, we were mixing. Ray was at home with family things. Frank and I were trying to make the album sound the way we wanted it to. But it didn't work. Since I'm only the lyricist, I couldn't explain in musical terms what sounded wrong to me. Anyway, we had to approach it from scratch and talk to our producer Rob Cavallo about how we could do it. I had a song called Na Na Na that I had written in the desert. While we were still working on the old recordings, I said: let's record this song. We went into the studio and within one night the thing was done. That's when we realized that we had to rebuild the entire album from scratch, including the songs that we had already finished."

Last time you said that the new album would be a reaction to how you are perceived as a band. What is the situation now?

"It can't be about what anyone thinks of what you do. It's about doing it for yourself. That would be the worst thing: making music for the people who

not like you just so they like you. Should I be a bit tougher? Or more punk somehow? Will you like me then? Nah, not with me. That was also my biggest beef with the last recordings. They were good, but not outstanding. And if I had any complaints about them, it was the feeling that I had accommodated other people's views too much. We wanted to assert ourselves as a rock band. We only managed that with Killjoys."

The days of The Black Parade, the big gestures and all the pomp, definitely seem to be over. Looking back, did you lay it on too thick?

"Yes and no. It was an extremely ambitious album. I wouldn't say it was too hard-working, because we didn't try too hard. But we put a lot of work into it. We had to use a certain arrogance for the album. A lot of people thought at the time that we were a flash in the pan. We had released a hit album and were now going to go under with the emo hype. So we exaggerated everything, a defiant reaction. Even though it wasn't fun at times, we were constantly laughing because we felt kind of stupid doing it. With Killjoys we may not have laughed as much - but we had more fun."

THE WATCHMEN

The last sign of life from the band before Killjoys was the Bob Dylan cover Desolation Row on the soundtrack to the graphic novel adaptation The Watchmen. The video for the song was directed by Zach Snyder. "For free," Gerard marvels to this day. "Zach was so in love with his own film that he was still re-shooting scenes even though he had already finished it. This included the video for our song, which was obviously very important to him. He wanted to know what I thought about it. I told him that our cover version should sound like the Jim Carroll song People Who Died - like a big, loud 'Fuck you!', the film is one too." Snyder chose My Chem because he knew that Gerard is a comic book author and that his The Umbrella Academy, like The Watchmen, won an Eisner Award.

GRANT MORRISON

Morrison plays the bald villain in the Killjoys trailer. He's a comic book writer like me and my personal hero. We've been friends since The Black Parade. Greg is one of the most respected artists in the comics world, alongside Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman. He wrote his own character from the trailer and designed the costume himself.

COMICS FOR YOU

The second part of The Umbrella Academy, called Dallas, has just been published in German translation by Cross Cult Verlag and has already won Gerard and illustrator Gabriel Bá the Eisner Award. We are giving away three copies of the hardback piece of bloody pop culture. Write an email with the subject "Dallas" to [email protected]. The deadline for entries is November 19th.

11/2010 visions magazine

#mcr scans #my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way #frank iero #mikey way #ray toro #danger days #danger days era #2010 #done by google my german is nonexistent

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alexawynters · 1 year ago

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Scarlet Whispers - pt 2

Gif not mine

A/N: Not sure about the formatting, copy and paste didn't quite work out as planned. Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Master list here

You miss your stop.

Not only do you miss your stop, but you end up all the way at the bus depot before the driver notices you passed out in one of the seats. The driver, a kindly older gentleman, offers to give you a lift home since it is the end of his shift anyway. He takes pity on you, perhaps due to your tired and sad appearance. Interestingly, no one seems to notice the red wisps behind his eyes.

You appreciate his kindness, but you are anxious about returning home. A quick look at your phone reveals that it is well past 6 PM and you have missed multiple calls and texts from both of your parents. This is not going to end well. In simple terms, you are fucked. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem to notice your restlessness as your leg bounces nervously as he gets closer to your home.

As you exit the vehicle, you politely thank him and offer to pay for the gas, but the man refuses. His accent changes slightly as he says, "anything to help." You shrug it off, as it is not your concern where people are from. Your focus is on more pressing matters. After closing the door, you square your shoulders and mentally prepare for the absolute shit show awaiting you as soon as you step through the front door.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your father’s booming voice is the first to be heard. “Where were you?”

You start with the truth. “Dad I’m sorry, I was on the bus after my exam, I fell asleep with my headphones-”

”I don’t want your excuses! While you live here under our roof, you will show us some respect, you will follow our rules! You had chores to do today, why didn’t you do them?”

A bead of sweat trails down the back of your neck. You hate being interrupted, and you hate being asked questions when they clearly don’t want the answers. Besides, you are in your twenties, not a child. “As I was saying, I-”

This time your mother interrupts. “Don’t speak to your father like that. He asked you a question, we expect you to answer it!.”

You grit your teeth. “I fell asleep on the bus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Always with the excuses this one.” Your father laments. “Do you think your future employer is going to care about any of that? No. He’s just going to want to know why you weren’t there.”

It takes every ounce of your sanity to not snap that your answer is the reason WHY you weren’t there, and not simply an excuse. Instead you hold your tongue. They aren’t here to listen, they don’t care. They just want to yell at you, and for you to be sorry.

“I tell you, with behavior like that it’s any wonder at all you’d even be able to keep a job. They would probably fire you on the spot, and then you would be right back on our doorstep, our problem once again to pick up the pieces.”

It’s all hypothetical of course - you’ve never been late to any of your classes, but you have not yet had a job, you weren’t allowed to. You are sure you wouldn’t be late to it though if you were to treat it like your classes. You know you can’t tell your parents this however. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Yes Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Saying sorry simply doesn't cut it! Sorry doesn’t fix the problem that you caused, so tell me, how are you going to make the problem right?” he demands. A vein throbs in his forehead. Absently you think about how he knows he should watch his blood pressure, but that would require him to watch his temper. Y/D/N could never.

You know what he is looking for, he wants you to do your chores now, but it’s after 8PM and your exam is at 8AM. If you do your chores now, that leaves you little time for last minute studying, eating, bathing, sleeping, and then catching the bus back to the university. Helplessly, you look to your mother for help.

“Don’t look at me, this is your mess you’ve created. If you had just done what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you had just been good, you could be doing whatever it is you do with your free time right now.”

It had always annoyed you greatly that your parents were unaware of your academic achievements. While it's true that you didn't have the best grades as a child, once you entered university and chose a major, you became a straight-A student, even going so far as to make the President’s list the last three years in a row. However, in their eyes, you would always be the little underachiever they had to take care of.

Tears well up in your eyes. This situation wasn't fair. It was an accident. You had fully intended to come home and do your chores, but you couldn’t have known you would sleep through your alarm on the bus. You had been so incredibly exhausted that you experienced a vivid nightmare whilst awake. You were aware that you needed more sleep, but your degree was your only way out of this miserable place. You couldn't risk losing it all just because you missed a few hours of sleep now and then.

“Please?” You beg. You didn’t have anything else to argue in your defense. “I’ll leave my headphones in my bag this time, I’ll set multiple alarms, I won’t sleep, just please let me go study!”

Your parents look at each other, having silent communication. Seeming to come to an agreement, your mother speaks first. “Y/N we’re sorry it has to be this way, but you have already proven on multiple occasions that we can’t trust you to do the right thing. Tonight, you are going to do your chores even if it takes you all night to do it. Besides, we all know you’re not studying up there. For all we know you’re just up there masturbating in the window or something.”

Being stabbed in the chest would have been less painful. You don't understand why you're caught off guard; it's not like your mother hasn't said off the wall shit like this in the past. It's almost as if she thrives on finding the most hurtful and outrageous statements to throw in your face, as if you deserved them. As if you had ever done any of the things she accused you of. Like you were some sort of deviant, when all you wanted was simply the right to exist.

“What the actual fuck, Mom?!” you scream, having finally had enough. Both of your parents look taken aback. Rare is it for you to raise your voice at them, even more so to curse at them. “I know you’ve been pretty checked out of my life for a while now, but I’ve had a 4.0 GPA for the last three years. I don’t know where you got that… comment… from, but I can assure you that all I want to do is go to my room and study.”

“Now listen here young lady,” begins your father.

"No, YOU listen, Father," your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were right about one thing, and that is I am a gods damned adult. I take my studies seriously, and while it may come as a surprise to you since neither of you have paid any actual attention to my life since I turned 18, though it could be argued you really stopped paying attention earlier except for when I was being an inconvenience, but I am actually a great student. This is my last semester before graduating with honors and again, a 4.0 GPA, and I will have my choice of job opportunities. I will leave this place, and you miserable old bats will have no one to be your punching bag anymore. Then maybe just maybe you can finally take a look at the flaws and fix what's wrong with your own marriage, instead of trying to break ME!”

Your chest heaved. It felt good to speak your truth, but as the silence grew, you began to realize that you might have made a mistake.

Your father has finally gotten out of his chair, looming over you. A resounding slap echoes across the room as your father backhanded you, knocking you to the floor. “You ungrateful, miserable little bitch! I don’t know what lies those ‘professors’ at the university have been filling your head with, but you have no future, and you are lucky your mother and I care enough to let you live under our roof! And so long as you do, you will obey our rules, and show us the respect we deserve!”

Fearful, you scramble back to the wall and attempt to push yourself to your feet. “If that’s the price of living here, then I will happily live in the University’s library. One week, that’s all I need!” You step forward to make your escape from this house, but this time your mother shoves you, and once again you find yourself on your knees.

You raise your hands in self-defense, but your mother sneers, "Do it, Y/N, hit me, and you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink!" Crying, you lower your hands and prepare to allow her to strike you.

The lights went out all at once, and everyone froze. Has the power gone out? It couldn’t have, you could still hear the hum of the AC unit. So what was wrong with the lights?

The lights turn back on as suddenly as they had gone out, and all three of you look around in confusion. However, despite the lights returning, the room appears darker, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The shadows cast a looming presence over all of you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your home, which you have lived in for around twenty ish years, suddenly feels foreboding, and you wonder if it's too late to flee. It almost resembles one of the nightmares you have been experiencing recently.

Red mist fills the room, a dreadfully sinister voice speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

All three of you turn to the source of the sound - the corner of the room, as a red and black leather-clad boot, attached to black leather pants, steps through a portal and into the room. The Scarlet Witch follows, radiating her full glory. She warns, "If you wish to keep your body parts intact, you will never lay a finger on Y/N ever again."

You’re pretty sure your eyebrows have never been closer to meeting your hairline before and yet here we are. You don’t know who this unfamiliar lady is, nor how she seems to know you but God damned if that outfit doesn’t look as if it has been painted onto her. You blush at your sinful thoughts. Now is not the time, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a stroke of some sort. If nothing else, however, you are grateful for the reprieve from your beating.

Meanwhile, your parents had never taken well to being told what to do, by anyone, they certainly weren’t going to now by this costumed stranger. Your mother bristles. “Who is this Y/N? Another one of your little whores?” Completely disregarding the fact that you have never in fact had a partner in your entire life, and you don’t know whether to be pleased that she seems to think you’re capable of having a sex life or affronted that she thinks you’re some type of floozy. Your mother’s words, not yours.

“What? No, I-” You look helplessly from the floor between your parents and this woman you now recognize as the one from your visions, and the same one from your hallucination this morning. Is she here to help, or to hurt you? She has been your savior and aggressor in both; there’s no telling which she has chosen for now. Glancing between them, you are unsure how to de-escalate this situation. There is no way to convince your parents, for their own safety, that this woman is powerful and not to be trifled with. Nothing you could say, they would believe, and you were pretty sure this woman would kill your parents without a second thought if they didn’t tread carefully.

Seeming to sense your struggle, the woman speaks up in your stead. “As I’ve said, you would do well to keep your hands to yourself. I am here to take Y/N with me, and you will not stand in my way. This is your only warning, which I am giving to you out of consideration for Y/N.”

She reaches down for your hand to help you back up. Hesitantly, you take it, ignoring the shock that runs throughout your body, and begin questioning your entire reality. Take you with her? Who even is she? Where exactly is she going to be taking you? You had questions, and you would like some answers, but if you didn’t get your parents to stand down, you were pretty sure she would follow through on her threat. Sure, your parents were trash, but they were all you had. You loved them, and you were certain that, in their own warped way, they loved you, too.

She helps you up and proceeds to give you a thorough once-over, carefully inspecting your injuries. Her intense scrutiny makes you blush. Meanwhile, your parents remain silent, their thinly veiled anger evident as they observe your interaction. How dare this woman speak to them in such a manner? Thankfully, they wisely choose to keep quiet. Perhaps they also sense the dangerous aura emanating from this woman, perceiving her as a true threat. Then again, it could be due to the fact that she just stepped through a literal portal conjured out of thin air moments ago. Maybe they had been paying attention, but even you are unsure of what is real anymore.

Still holding your hand, the Scarlet Witch leads you back towards the portal she arrived through. "Come, Y/N, we have much to discuss." At this point, all you could do was helplessly trail after, hoping you weren't going from bad to worse. At least by leaving, your parents would be out of danger. As for yourself, well... It was clear that the Scarlet Witch wanted something from you. Hopefully, whatever that was would be sufficient to ensure your survival. Perhaps even enough to negotiate with.

At the last possible moment, your mother chooses, whether out of genuine love and concern for your well-being, or fear at the loss of her control over you, to reach out to take you from this bizarre woman. “Mother, no!”

Y/M/N finds herself promptly flung onto the wall behind her, and stuck there, unable to move. You aren’t sure who exactly screamed but you’re pretty sure it was every member of your family. The Scarlet Witch hadn’t even turned to look, the only indication she had even been involved is the raised hand, opposite the one holding yours, with dark, ink-stained fingertips, bent at slightly odd angles.

“Stop, please! Let her go, she won’t do it again, please! I'm sorry, please!”

Unsure of why you are begging for this woman’s life when she has spent the entirety of yours making sure you were miserable. Still, your heart lurched at the thought of anything happening to your mother. You didn’t like her, and if you never saw her again, that was probably for the best, but you certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

The Witch took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself, before turning to face you.

In the softest voice you had ever heard she whispers “Detka, I-.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, deciding what to say. To your absolute mortification and delight, she leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, and promises “I will let them live, but I must say my piece.”

You nod, completely dumbstruck at everything happening in this moment. What. The. Fuck.

Y/M/N, still pinned to the wall, whimpers and struggles to move but is clearly unable to. The Scarlet Witch turns from you to face your parents. Another wave of her hand, and your mother slumps to the floor, alarmed, but otherwise unharmed. It is clear whatever the witch did, both she and your father are now restrained.

Footsteps approach the pair, and the lights in the house flickered ominously. Despite your mother being nearly 40 years older than her (or so you assumed, as you had no idea of this woman's age), the power emanating from her exuded confident malevolence. She showed no fear towards them, and for once, although ashamed to admit it, you were glad to see that they were afraid of someone else.

Though she was only about 5'6", the woman knelt before your parents, her voice filled with menacing intent. "I know everything you have ever done, everything you ever could do, and everything you ever will do. I know what you are guilty of. I know what you deserve, and I can assure you that it is not mercy. I will spare your lives and leave you unharmed due to the kindness of your daughter, the daughter you’ve abused for decades." As her head tilts, you can't help but feel that she becomes even more dangerous. "But if you ever try to take her from me again, I will seek retribution on her behalf, and I promise you it will be the most excruciating agony you have ever experienced. Do we understand each other?"

You squirm uncomfortably. This should not be doing things to you, but then again, no one had ever stood up for you. Ever. Gods you needed therapy. It’s fine. Little boxes, and this was for a little box for later.

The witch stood up and once again took your hand, leading you through the portal and leaving your parents behind. Perhaps for good, you weren’t entirely sure, and you suddenly realized you didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here; even if this woman was dangerous, at least for the moment, she seemed to care about you, and that was enough for you to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Again, therapy…

The pair arrive at a massive stone temple, which you would later learn is called Mount Wundagore, the Scarlet Witch's temple. It is built into a massive, rugged mountain with steep cliffs, situated above dense forests and enveloped in mist. The mountain exudes an air of mystique and possesses an eerie atmosphere. Scattered across its walls are depictions of the woman in front of you, accompanied by various runes whose significance you suppose hint at a potentially supernatural importance.

The Scarlet Witch does not make much of an effort for introductions, nor explanations, simply heads towards the entrance to her temple.

“What is this place?” you ask, hints of awe and fear in your voice

“Our home.”

Your brain stutters. “I’m sorry, what now?”

“Detka, do not pretend you did not hear me, I don’t enjoy repeating myself. This is our home.” Her accent sounds vaguely Eastern European, and becomes more pronounced the more irritated she is. You wonder when she started trying to hide it.

Your mind balks at the idea of this being your new home, it couldn’t be less foreboding. “Uhhh… this.. is a giant stone temple in BFE nowhere, with ice, snow, and-”

Movement startles you out of your reverie. Beings made entirely out of stone shift from foot to foot, as if adjusting their stance. Their eyes have the same red glow as the woman who leads you now.

“Are those rock trolls??” The stone guardians loom threatening, but make no move to engage, they await their Queen’s orders. “Right. Rock trolls. Why is this our home? WHERE is our home? And,” you spin, taking the aesthetic of the temple in, trying not to have an anxiety attack. “What do you mean -our- home? Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

You can’t tell if the faint twitch of the other woman’s lips is in amusement or annoyance at your ramblings, but in your defense, she had let you speak uninterrupted. You were known for getting entire paragraphs out if left unsupervised - it was a talent and a curse. Personally you felt she should be grateful you weren’t jumping down her throat, you didn’t know anyone else who would be taking this half as calmly as you were. Then again, you were still waiting on your Hogwarts acceptance letter at 25.

“My name is..” she hesitated. “Wanda. I am.. I was an Avenger.”

You looked on blankly, hoping she would elaborate. The fuck was an “Avenger”?

"In my universe," (you filed away the fact that she implied the existence of a multiverse for later, as it was a problem for another time) "the Avengers are superheroes. Well, that's what we called ourselves - Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A bit arrogant, if you ask me. We dealt with threats that the military and ordinary people couldn't handle. We were the last line of defense. We saved the world countless times, but at a great cost of lives. We were vain, thinking we were above it all because we believed we were acting for the greater good. But try explaining that to those who were lost as collateral damage.

I digress. We.. were considered to be heroes. There were several of us, we were a team. A family. We lived together, fought together. Died together. Until we didn’t.”

Wanda explains the dynamics of the Avengers team, including how she and her brother Pietro joined. She mentions Pietro's death in the battle against Ultron, as well as the events leading up to and the battle against Thanos. She also covers the events of the “Blip”, and what happened afterward. However, she conveniently chooses to omit the events of Westview, as she didn't want you to know about that just yet.

“That’s.. wow. Wanda, that's a lot. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen your powers myself, I wouldn’t believe you. But all of that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You mentioned your universe as being so fantastical, why would you come here? And what do you want with me? If you’re a hero, why are you here in what totally looks like a villain’s lair and not with your other superhero buddies?” You neglect to mention the unease creeping up your spine.

This is fine. Everything is fine. Right? Right.

A look of utter despair crosses the witches face as she locks eyes with you before glancing away.

“I mentioned my team before, but I didn’t mention you.”

“…” You slow blink. This was not how you thought your day was going to go, and honestly, you were already getting a bit of a headache. Could she be less cryptic because that would be great. More details, fewer questions. Maybe another nap.

"Y/N, where I am from, you were also an Avenger. You had joined the team before Pietro and I, and were one of the few who made us feel welcome. Despite the fact that we had previously been enemies, you didn't treat us as ticking time bombs. Instead, you welcomed us with open arms. Your go-to tactics were kindness and understanding, which made it hard not to want to get to know you. When Pietro died, you were the only one who checked on me and cared. You taught me that grief is just love persevering. You became my closest friend, and over time, I couldn't help when those feelings began growing into something more.”

You swallow uncomfortably. It sounds like Wanda is telling you that in this other universe you both were an item. It’s not that you wouldn’t be honored to be with such an attractive woman, but it feels weird knowing that that was a different version of you. Someone with superpowers, someone likely more confident by the sounds of it. This feels almost as if you are intruding on something you shouldn’t, yet Wanda is the one telling you this; if it weren’t okay for you to know, she surely wouldn’t be sharing. You don’t really know what to make of this; if she has feelings for this other you, why is she here with this version of you?

“In the battle against Thanos, we learned that the source of your powers was an infinity stone embedded in your skull courtesy of H.Y.D.R.A. experiments, which altered your genetic DNA. Thanos had also learned you possessed this Mind Stone and sought to take it from you by force.”

Anguish on her features, the witch turns to you. “You were going to die, Y/N. We tried, I tried, so hard to protect you, to keep you away from him but at every turn he found you. If he had gotten the Mind Stone, he would have been able to enact his plan to rid the universe of half of all life. You told me.” She hiccups.

“Y-you told me it was okay, that you forgive me. That I needed to.. that I needed to destroy the stone to save the universe. I didn’t want to. I would have given anything else but that. But you held my hand and told me you forgave me, that you only felt me. Then Thanos came, and we were out of time. I was the only one with the power to do it because its magic was so similar to my own. I placed my hand to your head and I-.” She is unable to continue, breaking off into sobs.

Oh. So she had to sacrifice you to save the universe. Well. You agree with the alternate you, you didn’t blame her, and you would definitely forgive her. Awkwardly you try to find some way to comfort her. While obviously you were not the same person she had loved and lost, and you knew from your own experiences with loss that sometimes words just couldn’t cut it. Instead, you shuffle forward, making sure you were heard in case she wanted to refuse you, and pullher in for a hug.

Wanda tenses in your embrace, as if she can’t decide if she wants to sink into it or send you flying. “The worst part,” she continues, “was that it meant nothing.”

If you were a dog your head tilt might have been cute.

“In the end, Thanos was still able to get the Mind Stone, and you were still dead, by MY hand, and it all meant NOTHING!” Wanda wrenches herself from your grasp, looking positively unhinged. You probably should have been scared. You weren’t. Her wrath did… things… to you. Therapy…

“All because Strange saw supposedly every possible future and CHOSE to let you die to save everyone else. As if there was no other possible outcome!”

Oh, that... that makes more sense. The other you was still dead, and Wanda was definitely suffering from PTSD from her involvement in it. Her little stunt with your parents was probably her way of trying to save you or bring you back to life. But in your universe, there weren't any superheroes, magic, or Thanos to protect you from (that you were aware of at any rate). So what was Wanda doing? This wouldn't bring her version of you back to life. You may have looked and sounded alike, and you might have made similar decisions, but you simply weren't the same person. The lack of the same life experiences meant that you had different personalities, despite having a similar genetic build.

“So we saved the world, and I left to live in exile. After the funeral, Clint handed me your belongings, and in them was a letter. A deed to a plot of land you had purchased in our names where we were going to build a house. I think it was supposed to be a surprise after we defeated Thanos. We had never lost before, not since Pietro - I don’t think it occurred to us that we could. So I drove out to see and.. Y/N I was still so new to my powers. They were still mostly subconscious. I was grieving and... it would be easier if I show you. May I?”

“May you.. what?”

A subtle smile appears on the witches' face at your ignorance. You are tempted to mention how beautiful she looks with that smile. Shaking off the thought, you ponder if she can read your mind, as her smile becomes knowing and a slight blush colors her cheeks. Ink-stained fingers reach towards your temple, but she hesitates, waiting for your consent, and your heart fills with warmth. You nod once, despite not really understanding.

Her charcoal-colored fingers, cold to the touch, make contact with your temple. Just as you're about to complain about the lack of warning, you're abruptly transported into a completely different world, surpassing the immersive experience of any 3D movie you've ever seen. You not only hear and see everything in every direction, but you can also feel and smell it all. It feels as if you are truly present in that moment. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you are witnessing someone else's memories, to be precise, Wanda's memories.

She starts her memory with the unexploded bomb created by Tony Stark, which sat in the middle of the rubble of the Maximoff residence. In that chaotic scene, there were two children, the twins, hiding in fear under a bed. However, before you could offer any comfort, the scene shifted. The twins had been taken to HYDRA, where they were subjected to brutal experiments. Witnessing their suffering broke your heart, and despite your best efforts, you were unable to interact with your surroundings, although you desperately tried. Repeatedly you threw yourself against the walls of the cells in which the twins were held, hoping to free them from their hellish situation. You observed the twins' powers first emergence: Pietro's as he attempted to reach his sister's side, and Wanda's as she tried to defend Pietro from the scientists.

Scene after scene, each one as traumatic, if not more so, than the last, depicting all the events from Ultron and beyond. And then there's you. Except, it's not really you. You've certainly never possessed the power of teleportation, nor have you ever been so self-assured. This must be Wanda's universe's version of you. With bright eyes and a warm demeanor, you appear as a beacon of light in Wanda's otherwise bleak life. You observe as the version of you in this universe warmly welcomes the twins to the team, a stark contrast as to how the rest of the team treats the newcomers ranging from suspicious to openly hostile.

It’s surreal, watching yourself from outside your own body, knowing this version isn’t really you, but still no less real of a person. Wanda’s memories begin focusing less on missions and more on interpersonal relationships. Specifically, the one developing between yourself and Wanda. It’s intimate and you feel like an intruder watching this unfold. Sadly, as you grow closer, Wanda loses the only other connection she has - Pietro is hit by stray bullets while saving children. A true hero, and there was nothing anyone on the team could do to prevent it. You watch in horror both for the loss of Pietro as a friend, as well as knowing the absolute devastation this will cause your beloved Witch.

You can tell at this point that that’s what she was to you. It hasn't been long, but that bond has clearly already been sealed; you can see the signs in both your alternate self and Wanda. You would have to be blind not to. The loss of her brother does terrible things to Wanda and it’s all your other self can do to try to keep her afloat. “What is grief but love persevering?”

The scene shifts again. Time has clearly passed, and Wanda appears to have healed to some extent. She and the team have become much more cohesive, which delights both versions of you. Your relationship has definitely progressed, if the blush currently gracing your face, extending to your ears, is any indication. You feel the remnants of the emotions from your alternate self. They are not yours, but neither are they entirely unfamiliar. It makes for a disconcerting sensation to say the least. You don’t know Wanda like that, even though this version of you does. You wish you could view these memories dispassionately, free from your alternate self’s emotions that are bleeding through, but you suspect that’s not possible. Once again you try to reassure yourself that you are not the same person, no matter the genetic makeup.

Jarring you from your reverie, next you find yourself in another battle, and this one is massive. There are more superheroes here than you have ever seen before, either in Wanda's memories or in films. This must be the fight against Thanos she had told you about. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you contemplate what it will be like to witness your own death.

Traumatizing, for sure, though not for the reasons you had expected. While you are unable to interact with your environment, you are able to freely move about. Instead of looking at the memory entirely from Wanda’s perspective, you move to stand beside yourself. Wanda stands before you, ethereal, magnificent, yet utterly devastated. She knows what she has to do and pleads with you not to make her. It is unjust for a woman so powerful to suffer such loss, and still you implore her to sacrifice your life, her happiness, for the sake of the rest of the universe. It is unfair. It is cruel. You know it, but you ask anyway.

She never could tell you “no.”

You know the moment this universe's version of you had died when you witness the sheer devastation on Wanda's face. Most people would probably look away, but you couldn't. For some unknown reason, you feel compelled to witness this moment in all its horrifying detail, if only to gain a true understanding of the witch and the immense pain she has endured. There were surely few things more intimate than allowing someone to share their own memories, and here Wanda was, granting you unrestricted access to hers. The least you could do was accept this gift she was offering, no matter how painful it might be.

The images that follow blur together, evoking your personal experiences with grief and a sense of detachment from the world. The funeral is somber, one and all everyone dressed in black and grey. Wanda is present only in body, and you can’t blame her. Clint, the archer, hands her your belongings, including the letter she had mentioned. It unnerves you how detached Wanda appears to be at this moment, despite being surrounded by friends and colleagues. You worry about what lies ahead for her. So much loss in such a short time, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know this would surely take a toll on her. You prayed that her friends came to check on her, but you had a feeling either they didn’t, or in her grief, she refused them entry.

Colors blend into one another and fade out. You find yourself standing on a plot of land in a town called Eastview, crouching next to Wanda as she collapses to her knees. Her body is wracked with anguished sobs as she finally allows herself to grieve. You wish you could interact with this memory, to hold her and alleviate some of her pain, even if only for a moment. Instead, you sit with her, sharing in her pain as she releases it all into the world. Wanda allows herself to experience her grief in its entirety, no longer burying her feelings beneath a veneer of numbness. Colors leech from the world around her, turning it greyscale. You're pretty certain that even at their strongest, the average person's manifestation of grief isn't supposed to do that, but then again, the average person isn't the Scarlet Witch. Briefly, you wonder what consequences this will have on her world. Your head feels fuzzy, and as your vision fades to black, you suppose you are about to find out.

You regain consciousness and find yourself in a world entirely devoid of color. Disoriented, you blink as the details of your surroundings slowly come into focus. In front of you stands... well... yourself. Or rather, an alternate version of you who appears to be from the 1950s, slightly older but still alive. Seated beside 1950’s you is Wanda, also monochrome and dressed in 1950s attire. Blearily, you rub your eyes. It has been a long day, and you are extremely tired, unsure if this is just an incredibly vivid hallucination or if you have actually passed out somewhere.

Alternate you asks Wanda a question, to which you aren’t listening, and she replies with a quip - you still aren’t listening, wondering where you are and why everything is in greyscale. What catches you off-guard though, is the surround sound laugh track that‘s garnered in response. It’s galling to admit but you jump, startled, and look around. There’s no one else in the house besides yourself, the alternate version of you, and Wanda. Where did that come from?

Alternate you replies to Wanda, and again with the laugh track. This time you are not as startled, but no less unsettled. What fresh hell is this? Could this be Wanda’s doing? It doesn’t seem like you can ask her though, as you’re just a passive observer in this strange situation. The last thing you remember, Wanda was grieving in Eastview at the plot of land which alternate you had purchased to start your life together after retiring from being superheroes. Strange grey wiggly woos (as you were starting to refer to her magic) were emanating from the witch, quite different from the familiar scarlet color you had grown accustomed to.

Perhaps this was her doing, if only subconsciously. You tried to recall, didn’t Wanda mention something about her powers being new to her and mostly unintentional? This could be what she had been referring to. Apprehension made a home in your chest as you found yourself dreading whatever was about to unfold before you. Oh no, Wanda, what did you do?

It doesn’t take long after observing the hijinks and mishaps, for you to realize that Wanda's grief had manifested through her powers. She had transformed the town of Eastview into Westview, resembling a 1950s-style sitcom town. Wanda, along with an alternate version of yourself (if you were truly still alive - that part you hadn't figured out yet), and the entire town were trapped. While it may have started unintentionally, Wanda became aware of it and began actively using her powers to maintain her idyllic town, keeping it isolated from the outside world and preventing the townspeople from leaving. In her grief, Wanda was essentially playing house, holding everyone hostage. However, despite her powers growing stronger, it was clear that the people living there were suffering. If you could even consider their existence as living.

There were even two boys - twins, just like Wanda was a twin. Your heart broke, knowing this could not possibly end well. While technically not "real" and not even "yours" at that, watching these boys be born, live, and grow caused you to cultivate a love for them almost as if they were your own. Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest; you didn't want to see how this plays out, but you didn't have a choice.

Despite the dysfunction in your parents, you had always wanted a family of your own. An attempt to break the cycle and bring new life - happy and healthy - into this world. You wanted to raise your kids with the love and care you had never experienced yourself.

You understood the motivations of the witch, but that didn't justify her morally questionable choices. Once again, you are condemned to remain on the sidelines, unable to take any action to resolve the situation. You are forced to witness this charade unfold, hoping and praying that it would end well for everyone involved, yet knowing that it would not. How could it possibly?

Despite your bias, after witnessing everything Wanda had endured, you found yourself wishing for the best outcome for her, in particular. Among all the people you could think of, she deserved a break from the misery that had plagued her life until now.

Eventually, it all came to a head when another witch named Agatha Harkness had infiltrated the town with a book called the Darkhold, attempting to convince Wanda to join her and increase their powers. If Wanda refused, the witch planned to take Wanda's powers for herself. Something about a prophecy regarding a Scarlet Witch.

Meanwhile, the alternate version of you had become self-aware of the true nature of Westview. This version of you pleaded with Wanda to prioritize the wellbeing of others over her own happiness, once again. They urged Wanda to defeat Agatha and free the townspeople, even if it meant losing her spouse and children. It was an impossible choice, and you questioned whether you could have mustered the courage to make the same decision in Wanda’s position.

Wanda defeated Agatha, not that you ever doubted her for a moment. She said goodbye to you, again, and then to her boys, and released her spell. The town was free, but her family.. was gone. Wanda was once again on her own.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you awaken from the memories. It feels like it’s been ages, but from what you can tell, it must only have been minutes since Wanda first began sharing her memories with you. “Oh.”

Cringe. You wish you could have said something, anything more eloquent. Unfortunately, you feel as though you've just been hit by a Mack truck and could nap for a week. It doesn’t help that you were still feeling the effects of lack of sleep for the last couple of weeks.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good, is it okay if I lay down somewhere…?” A quick glance around the temple makes you second guess the question you were about to ask. Stone floors did not make a good bed.

With a tone much softer than she had been using, she replied. "Of course, Detka, you only need to ask."

An elegant wave of her slender fingers and gone is the stone temple, replaced by a cozy bedroom. At a cursory glance, you can tell it is a sanctuary of comfort and tranquility, featuring a plush, inviting bed. The room is adorned with personal touches, such as framed photographs of you and Wanda, and artwork that is somehow absolutely your aesthetic. Shelves display a carefully chosen selection of your favorite books, each waiting to be explored. These items add character and give the space a feeling that is unique to you, even though you have never set foot in this place before.

“Come,” A glimpse of Wanda and you are surprised to discover instead of her red and black uniform, she is now garbed in an oversized sweater and some cotton sweatpants.

“You have been holding space for others for so long, it is time you took some well-deserved rest. You work much too hard.”

“Uh s-sure.” About to make a comment that perhaps you should also change, but looking down to find that you are wearing your favorite worn Legolas shirt and some pajama shorts.

“Right. Rest.” Part of you wants to ask when you can return to your home so you can finish studying for your exams, but based on previous conversation, context clues tell you that’s the least of your concerns right now, and Wanda probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that topic of discussion right now.

Wanda takes your hand, leading you to the bed and it takes your overworked brain far longer than you care to admit to realize that she means for you both to share it. Your brain short-circuits at all the factors at play here: Knowing that you yourself are touch-starved; this absolute enchantress of a woman dated an alternate universe’s version of you, even going so far as basically playing housewife and mother of your children, and here she was asking you to share a bed. Sure, she wasn’t asking you to sleep with her, but she was still asking you to share a bed next to her and what if you accidentally spooned her in your sleep, and what if-

”You’re thinking too loudly, malysh.”

“What? You can- you’re a mind reader?!” you panic, backpedaling mentally, praying to every deity that existed that you hadn’t had any unsavory thoughts in her presence, and nearly fainting as you recalled that you in fact, had some rather explicit thoughts from the moment you first saw her.. The mortification alone was enough to put you into an early grave. You weren’t sure how you had missed that during everything she had shown you, but you reasoned you were probably more focused on the physical manifestations of her powers.

"Relax, Y/N. I don't intentionally read minds, at least not anymore. Sometimes, surface thoughts are so loud that I can't help but hear them. Like right now, you're practically yelling them at me," she said, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

Unfortunately, while you were no longer freaking out about having accidentally offended the witch, you were now spiraling down a different path. You were agonizing over the pain you had, and likely were still causing her by thinking so loudly. If you remembered any media involving mind reading, the person with the ability usually suffered greatly at the hands of others unintentionally. Naturally, the average person didn't know how to shield their thoughts, and you were afraid that you might be giving her a migraine. To the woman who had only tried to bring you to a safe place and offer you shelter.

You began to hyperventilate.

Wanda could see that you were spiraling, even without being a mind reader. It was written clearly on your face. However, being able to hear your thoughts helped her identify the source of your anxiety, and she berated herself for not considering that earlier. This version of you lacked confidence, and it was now Wanda's responsibility to help rebuild it. At least, according to her.

"Your parents really did a number on you, didn't they, detka?"

Cool hands gently held your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, Wanda invades your personal space, and the scent of vanilla fills your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from what was happening.

"We're just going to take a nap, okay Y/N? You don't have to worry about anything. I'm not bothered by any of those thoughts you have." A leering grin unfurls across her face.

“If anything I’m quite flattered by them.” She winks.

Heat flashes across your body, and you can’t tell if you were embarrassed, aroused, or both. Unfortunately, you knew your thoughts were likely betraying you. Gods, if only the floor could just open up right now and swallow you into the abyss. Yes, that would be fantastic.

"However, there is time enough for such things later. It's been years, Y/N, and I've just got you back. Nap with me, please?" The witch's eyes gaze longingly into yours, and well, when she looks at you like that, how could you say "no"?

She leads you to the bed and, with the practiced ease of her time in Westview, pulls you into her embrace as the little spoon. Earlier, you had been worried about accidentally touching her inappropriately or having a dirty dream. Now though, with her arms wrapped so protectively around you, sleep claims you almost instantaneously.

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader

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infinityyrp · 3 months ago

Text

Muse List: Teen wolf 🐺

☆Sundina Gloriana Deaton-Villanueva (TW/BTVS/shadowhunters OC)

☆Mieczyslaw 'Stiles' Stilinski

☆Isaac Lahey

☆Kira Yukimura

☆Malia Hale

☆Vernon Boyd

☆Romeo Bennett (TW/TVD OC)

RULES and what I'm looking for:

☆Always looking for partners.☆

•25+ MDNI.

•All Muses 21+, mature and dark themes will be present. Looking for MXF or FxF Roleplays, with me in the F role for mxf: I NO LONGER DOUBLE UP! I PREFER THE FEMALE ROLE DUE TO UNFORTUNATE EVENTS OF PARTNERS NOT BEING EQUAL AND TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME AND MY MALE MUSES.

☆My Muse for my OC is always high: Replies, posts, and starters for her will be rapid fire. Medium-high activity.

♧My Muse for my cannon characters vary: so that means replies, posts, and starters for them will vary. Medium-Low activity.

•Looking for a partner to play as Derek Hale and Scott McCall: I am okay with Genderbent!F Muses for them as well! (If you need ideas for FC's I have a few in mind.) Please actually enjoy it and want to play them as well. It's not fun for anyone if both parties don't enjoy it.

•Looking for Clark Kent from Superman and Lois:

•Looking for a Faith Lehane from BTVS: My main OC has a slayer verse. She was a potential slayer (unfound) and when Willow did the slayer awakening spell, she arose to the occasion.

•Looking for Tasha Williams from The L word: But make it supernatural

•Looking for Angel Reyes from The Mayans: But make it supernatural.

•Looking for Ricky Underwood from SLOTAT: but make it supernatural.

•Looking for Jace Wayland from Shadowhunters: Post series.

•Looking for Zade Meadows from Haunting Adeline:

•Looking for Zeke Landon from manifest: But make it supernatural.

•Looking for all other cannon characters for platonic interactions— potential romance:

•No guarantee on interactions: just because you send a starter to me or reply to one of my open starters, does not mean I will reply to you. I will kindly decline a roleplay if I don't vibe with your style. I will never ignore you though, that's very rude and disrespectful. You will get nothing but kindness from me and I expect the same in return.

•Semi-selective.

•NOT GHOST FRIENDLY: Please be an adult and communicate the issue so we can either change things up or part ways respectfully.

•Mun is 29 almost 30: I am an adult and want to be treated as such. Drama will not be tolerated, if you can't respect me, you will get blocked.

•This blog is for entertainment purposes only: It's purely fiction and is supposed to be fun. I'm not here to fulfill some fantasy that you have, I am married and a mom and write for the storylines. Nothing more.

•No god-modding.

•Respect my limits and triggers and I'll respect yours:

No rape, pedophilia, blood incest, heavy mentions of abuse, heavy mentions of death, extreme gore, and bathroom play. Those are my HARD no's.

•My preferred method of roleplay is on Discord. My UN is: infinityyrp

TUPPERBOX IS A REQUIREMENT.

•I will roleplay here if need be.

•I prefer the female role, with the exception of my side/background male cannon characters.

•I will not accept anything less than a paragraph: Though my motto is always quality over quantity.

•I enjoy text style roleplays from time to time: Especially when things get busy for me/us.

•50\50 smut and story: Fluff will be kept at a minimum. I enjoy drama of all kinds(cheating, love triangles, double life, pregnancies, one night stands.) The list goes on. If that's not your cup of tea, then I'm not the partner for you.

•please be POC friendly: my main OC is a woman of color— Alan Deatons daughter.

•lgbtq+ friendly.

•I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but I do have the right to decline a roleplay, just as you do.

•Communicate effectively.

•Please be consistent: Consistency is key in my book. If I'm waiting days for a reply (without communication), I lose interest. I understand life happens, I have a job m-f, but I also know most of us have our phones on us at all times, and it literally takes 2 minutes to send a message explaining your absence.

•Please be willing to talk ooc and be enthusiastic about our stories: I like to make Playlists and plot and talk about our ships and be friends outside of the roleplay.

•Most important, have fun!

•Open starters will be in the comments: DM me about which one you like and I'll tag you in a starter on the TL or we can make a server on discord and go from there!

•You can add me on discord and message me anytime.

•My DMs are open for discussing potential partnership/plots.

•Kink friendly: Will discuss privately

•Taboo friendly: will discuss privately.

Are we besties yet?😉

Send an Emoji when you DM me to let me know you've read and understand my preferences and rules:

Thank you for your time! ❤️

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roseychains · 9 months ago

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sorry for being a little shit and asking so much (I asked twice 🏳️🏳️) but do u PERHAPS write like, idk maybe sorta fluff?? but not hardcore fluff. something in me just wants to see brother!sukuna x sister!reader but not smut or anything. ^_^

also, I’m not anonymous so I don’t rlly need a sign off but it’ll still be 🫧🕊️ bc I’m greedy. please and ty in advance! Ik writing can be tiring and so can getting tons of requests :’)

Brother Sukuna

A/n: so it’s obi gonna be out of character cuz sukuna but more so it’s gonna probably be atleast a little unrealistic bc I have a twin brother, who is anything but sukuna-like.(for reference, he’s a big shot in our schools band, the only one who made state and lowkey a nerd) I’ll try my best tho lol

C/w: NOT A SHIP. PURELY PLATONIC. mentions of bullying, as well as assault. (Neither done by Sukuna).

First and foremost, protective but not in the way you’d expect. If you ever come to him complaining about people bullying you he’d probably brush it off and tell you to not concern yourself with others opinions, but then the next day those same bully’s were beaten into a pulp

An actual menace. A prankster if you will. Bluring the line between playful and hands down annoying. Take for example, drinking your drinks you put in the fridge to get cold, eating snacks you bought for yourself(he’s a fatass), NEVER PUTS THE TOILET SEAT DOWN, blasts music when your trying to sleep, takes controllers from you when he needs them, at anytime without asking permission, the list goes on.

But he does have equal amount good quality’s as he does bad ones. Despite his annoying habits, he makes up for it in other things. He drives you to places, anytime he’s bring home food he will get you something too(50/50 chance if he asked you or picks for you), and 11 out of 10 times sides with you in arguments you have with people. Additionally, he will also show up to any events you want him too, even if sometimes begrudgingly so. I can also imagine him getting pissed off if you try to compensate him for anything like gas or food, offended you think he’s poor

He gives me stoner vibes. So, as a sibling, he wouldn’t let you do anything till ur an adult and once u are he would only give u his stuff when your together and safe

At any point if you ever text him that your in trouble and need him to pick you up, he’s immediately on his way without a second thought. He might be a dick sometimes but he doesn’t play when it comes to your safety

Speaking of safety, if anyone victimizes you, more than just regular bullying I’m talking physical or sexual assault, he will do a whole lot more than just beat them up. Let’s just say he’s not afraid of being potentially jailed. Knowing the justice system, even if he did end up in jail he’d probably have a not terrible time, seeing as people who killed/severely ingured an assaulter are often respected

As children, when you would roughhouse he would find himself holding back and letting you win. As much as he likes to antagonize you he won’t ever hurt you

In summary, he’s genuinely very caring but never shows it. It kills his tough guy personality but deep down he does care for you deeply

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk ryomen #jujutsu ryomen #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader

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essaytime · 1 year ago

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I think the main thing that absolutely infuriates me about the "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb, horny teens" take is this implication that because they were so young, their relationship had to boil down to them being dramatic and inventing some great romance to moan about, or lust and hormones. As a teenager, it makes me want to tear the speaker apart with my bare hands. Interchangeably with stabbing, maybe.

When you look at the text, you can clearly see that there is some emotional connection between Juliet and Romeo. Their first conversation is literally a sonnet - which already indicates some sort of understanding and mutuality, and it's also beautiful poetry. They are the only characters in the entire play that they are really fully comfortable talking to. The adults are caught up in the feud, Nurse loves Juliet, but cannot understand her (and makes a dirty joke at her expense in Act I, which for a person Juliet's age would be awfully unpleasant), Romeo's friends, though I Iove them, don't get his sensitivity - Mercutio laughing at it and Benvolio worried by it - which Juliet, in turn, appreciates. They speak of each other with respect and admiration, quite unusually in Verona, where all is conflict and even Juliet's own father insults her: look at the sonnet, the balcony scene, Romeo comparing his sweetheart to the sun or a jewel (in contrast to his earlier quotes about Rosaline, which are literally a compilation of clichés stacked on top of one another). Even when Juliet awaits their wedding night, in a speech clearly centered on sexual matters, there is a visible softness and affection with which she treats Romeo ("cut him out in little stars"...). She waits for the night because it's him, not "I want to sleep with someone because I want to sleep with someone". The two genuinely care about each other, and are fond of each other. Of course, we can wonder if this love would last if they were given an opportunity to grow older, but when the play takes place, this love is there, and it's beautiful.

(Off-topic, I'd also like to note that this is an Elizabethan play that takes place in even earlier times, presumably late medieval - early renaissance Italy. They wouldn't live in the modern world where you can date many different people and settle well into your thirties or fourties. The average marriage age for girls in Shakespeare's time was about twenty, in fifteenth century Florence it was eighteen. Both of them were from wealthy families, so they'd likely be expected - even if Juliet's parents did not force her into a marriage with Paris - to marry earlier, for financial and political purposes. There couldn't be a "growing older" like we imagine it. Even their hypothetical different relationships would be early relationships for today's standards)

And it makes my blood boil when the visible genuine bond between these two is reduced to just "dumb kids being horny". The motive behind these words being partly, of course, the high-school-acquired All Required Reading is Nonsense edginess, but also a deeper issue - the inability to comprehend the fact that teenage love is also often real love.

Being capable of having deep and meaningful romantic relationships does not come baked into your birthday cake when you turn eighteen or attached to your first ever bill. Not every single feeling a teenager might harbour is at its core shallow lust and wanting to get laid. Of course, there's lots of cases of shortsighted infatuation where the pair really have nothing in common! I could name at least a few examples I have seen personally. But still, on every street and every corner of the world, and often a few metres from these pointless infatuations, teens fall in love because there's something more to it. Because they find they have a lot in common, because they get along well with each other, because they are able to see the good in the other person - their kindness, their intelligence, their enthusiasm, you name it. "Teens" including the younger teens, from thirteen to fifteen. And this love is a deep emotional bond. Sure, in most cases it will not last until death (and to be honest, relationships not working out is not really a teenage-specific phenomenon and a sign that young love of all is inherently doomed and it has to die so the curse of growing up is fulfilled), but it doesn't make it less of a love when it still remains, and it includes all the things love is about. Young couples go on dates, and have fun. They confide in each other. They support each other through hard times, they show care, they sometimes make sacrifices for their loved one's good. As any person in love does, at any age.

When I fell in love four months ago, I did not fall in love because I wanted to sleep with someone so bad. In fact, I do not want to - not for the next several years. I realise it's something I might want someday, but it's not today; and above all, I'm way too young. If anything, what I want is to kiss someone, or run my fingers through his hair, or read with his head in my lap - but it's not something I'd go out of my way and date a random person to get, come on. I fell in love because he is actually the first boy that reminds me of myself so much, the first I can understand so well. Because I also have a penchant for history and writing, I also tend to use formal and flowery language in very informal situations, I also enjoy people's attention (though I seem to worry more about being a potential inconvenience than he does), I also believe that we should judge people as individuals, because there's too much nuance in one person to make proper statements about large groups - and I find in him so many things that I can relate to, though of course I can't say I know him well enough to speak much for sure. Besides, he's simply a wonderful person, not flawless, of course, but he has a good heart. He is always kind, and well-mannered, and intelligent, and you can laugh with him. I think he would care if something bad happened, no matter if he says that he wouldn't. I think I know him well enough to say this at least. And if he loved me back (a thing I consider unlikely for now, but not entirely impossible), would we stay together forever? Heaven alone knows! Maybe not! It is up to the higher power. But even if we broke up, that wouldn't erase the fact that I loved him, and I would have done a lot for him, and we were able to have meaningful conversations. Just because a love isn't forever, doesn't mean it was never there.

Because - what the "dumb kids" people don't seem to grasp - teenagers are also human beings with a functioning, even if not fully developed, brain, capable of having complex feelings and thoughts just like an adult. Note that Shakespeare's leads, at least Juliet, actually do that - hence the pre-wedding night monologue, the "deny thy father and refuse thy name", her statement (I don't know the English original of that one, to be honest) that she is too soft and loving towards Romeo already, but it's because she has such profound feelings for him she can't even pretend to be strict. It's noticeable that she has some emotional maturity, at least - she shows some critical thinking abilities, she understands the consequences of many actions, she is able to see that the feud is pointless and a name is just a name. She's a teenager, and someone in their teens is also a Homo sapiens specimen, not a being from a different planet. Teens think and feel. It might not be the same reality as the adult one, and they don't deal with emotions with such ease as an adult would, but that doesn't mean they are unable to truly love and care, to enjoy talking to someone and want the best for them, like grown-ups do - as developing an affection for someone that makes you happy is a very human thing, and I can guarantee you a thirteen or fourteen-year-old is a developed enough human being to experience it.

So, to sum it up, if I hear any "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb kids being horny" on my watch, the author of this statement will presumably be mercilessly killed, and then I'll do as Fulvia allegedly did to Cicero and stab something through their tongue, except instead of a hairpin, I'll probably use one of the darts my little brother got for Christmas. They are very sharp. We have several holes in the floor already.

#and today I live up to my URL and write a full-blown essay #romeo and juliet #shakespeare #classic literature #my Romeo and Juliet rants

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the1975attheirverybest · 2 years ago

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Girlie we need education pt.3 I’m begging 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

Well, you know I can’t say no to you. So, here it is. Lesson #3: Pain is NOT the opposite of Pleasure

Warning: smut

—-

Amelia paused at the restaurant door for a moment trying to find the courage to go in there. Her clammy hands reached for the door handle. She focused her vision on the “pull” sign, trying to stay calm. Ever since the last time that she and Matty slept together, she’d tried her best to avoid him. It wasn’t too difficult. Mostly because he’d been traveling around the country, doing interviews and promoting the band, appearing on radio shows and in magazine articles. So, it didn’t take a lot of effort to not be around him. But he was back now, and she had to see him and be around him all night. She told herself that she didn’t care; that he’d made his feelings quite clear, and that she’s an adult who can handle rejection. He’d drawn his boundary and she has to respect it. But, for some reason that she couldn’t quite articulate, she’d chosen to wear this dress for him. And now that she was about to walk into the restaurant, she felt foolish about it.

She took a deep breath. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. Just have a good time. The boys are gonna be there. It’s gonna be fine.

She walked in, squeezing through the group of people waiting for a table at the front, and looking around for her people. She spotted George by his tall figure and bright hair. He’d brought Charli along, too. Jamie was there. Dan, Ross and Adam, a couple of people from the label, and, of course, Matty.

“Hey guys” she made a general greeting, everyone at the table turning towards her.

She made a deliberate choice not to look in Matty’s direction. First win of the night. So, she didn’t notice that he’d gotten up from his seat to get her a chair and set it next to his. She sat at the other end of the table, next to George.

Dinner seemed to go smoothly. In fact, for brief moments, whenever she was talking to Adam about his baby, or to Charli about her work, she’d almost forget that she was sitting a few steps away from Matty. Or that she’s supposed to be putting on a nonchalant act. Inevitably, though, she would find herself glancing in his direction every time she heard him speaking, or laughing at something that someone else had said. Or leaning over the table to talk to George. She’d hoped to catch him looking at her, but it never happened. She expected herself to be relieved. Not to have to look into his beautiful brown eyes and fake neutrality. But, a piece of her was always disappointed. She hated that about herself. Whether it was desperation or a desire to hurt him the way that he’d hurt her. She didn’t want to be petty and vindictive. But it was hard not to.

“Right, I think it’s time for me to head out.” Jamie spoke, looking around the table. “You two have to be in the offices early tomorrow.” He nodded at George and Matty. Matty downed the last of his drink, setting his now empty glass down and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Mhm.” He nodded.

“So don’t have too much fun tonight.”

“No fun for me, thank you.” Adam said, bowing out. “Gotta get home soon. Dad stuff.”

“Yeah, none for us either.” George added. “Charli has a thing tomorrow. I gotta finish up at the studio and go with her, so I can’t get shitfaced tonight.”

“Wow…are we saying we’re all going home at a reasonable hour?” Ross laughed. “We’ve really gone and grown up , haven’t we?”

Matty’s face dropped. “It would appear that we have, yeah.” He spoke, a hint of regret in his voice.

“I’ll get the tab, then.” Jamie left his seat.

Matty pulled out his phone, scrolling through his texts to find the thread that led to his last hookup. His finger hovered over the last text. He looked up over the table at Amelia, then back down at his phone.

People had started to leave the table and disperse in different directions. He needed to make up his mind quickly. He watched her stand up and hug George goodbye.

He sprung to his feet to catch up with her. He walked behind her as everyone lined up to leave the restaurant. When George and Charli headed off in their own direction, it was now just the two them. He stepped to the front to stand by her side on the pavement, looking straight ahead at the cars as they drove by. “Hey.” He mumbled.

Her heart raced in her chest and she wondered if he could hear it. Slowly, she turned to look at him. He was, as always, perfect.

His curls fell beautifully around his face, his simple black sweater clung to his body, a charming smile lit up his face. He’d been looking healthy lately. It always warmed her heart.

“So….dinner was fun.” He stated, digging into the pocket of his jeans for his cigarettes. “It was, umm, nice to see everyone. We’ve all been doing our own thing for a bit.” He lit his cigarette. “Want one?”

“Nah. When are you gonna quit that disgusting habit anyway?”

His lips curved into a smile, tilting the cigarette to the side. “Hmm….someday?” He shrugged. “You heading home?” He blew the smoke out of his mouth, obscuring her view of his beautiful face.

“Yeah, guess so. You?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Walk to the station together, then?”

“S-sure.” Just when she thought she’d managed to get through the night without embarrassing herself.

***

“Why’s the train so crowded? Is there some….some political protest or some football game I don’t know about?” She squeezed closer to him to make room for the flood of people getting on behind her.

Matty shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I’ve been so disconnected from the news, lately.”

“Probably should’ve just got an Uber.” She muttered under her breath, looking behind her at the packed car. No seats whatsoever.

“Wanna just….get off at the next stop?”

“Umm, no, no. It’s fine.” She sighed.

It was decidedly not fine. Every time the train had to pause in the tunnels or come to an abrupt stop, the standing passengers lost balance. Herself included. The first couple of times, Matty steadied her with his firm grip, making sure she doesn’t fall. Then, she clung to his arm a few times, looking up at him and trying not to sweat at the sight of his pink lips so close to her face. Eventually, and she has no idea how, Matty had wrapped his arm around her, holding her close to him as his other hand held on to the metal poll in the center of the car. Keeping them both balanced. She could smell his cologne. The drink he’d had. The cigarette he’d smoked. She could feel his soft sweater against her cheek. She knew he could see her face, which, no doubt, betrayed all her secrets.

Matty’s eyes weren’t on her face, though. He was looking somewhere further down. At the way the cut of the dress highlighted her breasts. Or was it the bra that did it? He didn’t care much for that how. She glanced up at him, catching him looking. “Umm…you, look- nice dress.”

She smiled. Men can be so blind sometimes. “Thanks.”

“Is it new?”

“This? No. Not at all.”

“Well, umm” he felt his mouth go dry. “It’s - n-nice.”

***

“So, umm, that’s my stop coming up.” She loosened her grip on his chest, moving away to get closer to the door.

“Right, yeah. Have a good night, I guess….” Matty’s lips parted again, the look in his eyes felt serious, but as the automatic doors opened, she looked back, and he was silent. Letting her walk out onto the platform.

On the streets, she felt her body shake as she sprinted towards her home. She didn’t think she could take another second in that train, packed like sardines with him so close to her. Looking, smelling, and sounding so good.

Over the echo of her own footsteps, she could still hear his voice faintly in her ear. The way he’d smile when she would turn to look at him. The way he’d say her name…

“Amelia!! Yo! Waiiiit! Amelia! For fucks sakesss!!”

She turned around. She wasn’t imagining things. In the distance, she saw Matty running towards her.

“Finally! Is this how you normally walk or are you in hurry for something?”

“W-what are you…” she looked down at her waist to check that her purse was still attached to her. Has she forgotten something? Her phone maybe?

“I- umm, it’s late. You shouldn’t be walking home alone in the dark.”

She frowned. “Since when are you….such a gentleman?”

“It’s not about bein’ a gentleman. It’s purely about safety. Have you read the statistics lately?” He was feeling his confidence act begin to crumble, so he looked ahead, beginning to walk again.

“No, have you?”

“A man can’t walk his friend to her door safely without an interrogation now? What a sad world we live in.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Well, thanks, Matty.”

They walked in silence for a while. Each of them desperately trying to think of something to say to the other without making things more awkward than the silence.

“So,” she spoke, smiling playfully. “Would you, like, fight off gangs for me? Robbers? Do you have a ninja knife or something hidden in your back pocket?” She laughed.

“Fuck off.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I’m very strong now!” He flexed his arm, pretending to show off. Or maybe a small piece of him wanted to show off.

“Yeah, I- I’ve noticed.” She cursed herself in her head as soon as the words slipped her lips. She was losing the upper hand her. God. She hated those kind-games. Those conversations they’re having in order to say what they can’t say. What they won’t say. Trying to communicate without actually communicating. She found that shit exhausting. She was never any good at acting cool and collected. And in this case, she didn’t want to be. She wishes she could just…talk to him.

“You’ve noticed, huh?” Matty raised an eyebrow, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, got over yourself, Matty.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, like, I noticed in the way that…you know- people notice. If your friend gets a haircut or loses or gains weight or whatever. People notice, okay!” Nope. She’d overdone it. By, like, a lot.

Matty watched her face contort itself in embarrassment, laughing softly.

“Shut up.”

“What? I haven’t said anything.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Whatever you say, Amelia.”

***

“You wanna come inside?” She turned to face him, fumbling with her keys.

“I mean, sure, if- you’d like me to. If it’s not too late.”

“I believe the conduct manuals say that when a gentleman risks his life to walk a lady home, etiquette dictates that she must offer him a nightcap.”

“Well…if that’s what the manuals say… wouldn’t mind a glass of wine, actually.

***

“How’re you doing with- uhh- our lessons.” He felt sleazy just saying it.

She set her glass down to avoid looking surprised by his question. “W-what do you mean- I- what?”

“I mean have you been practicing? Sucked anyone off yet?”

“What the fuck is that matter with you!” She shoved his arm lightly, mentally noticing that, he has, indeed, grown some muscles.

“What?” He giggled. “Just inquiring about your progress.”

“No, I haven’t. Yet.” She folded her legs, sinking back into the couch. “Have…you?”

“Haven’t had the time. But I’m free tonight….if you wanna brush up on some stuff.”

“I see. So the gentleman act has ended. Alright.”

***

In the dim light of her bedroom, she stood by the foot of the bed, with Matty towering over her.

For the second time tonight, she found herself unable to take her eyes off his lips. “Friends don’t kiss, friends don’t kiss, friends don’t kiss…” she repeated the mantra over and over in her head until Matty’s head dipped down and he kissed her, crashing his lips against hers with just a little bit of force, his hands holding onto her hips.

When he pulled away, her hand reflexively flew to her lips, as if grabbing at the lingering feeling of his mouth. She was utterly speechless.

Matty stepped away for a moment, taking off his sweater.

She mumbled a curse when she saw his shirtless chest.

“Pardon?” He turned to look at her and smiled knowingly when he saw her eyes wide open.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if she’s ever seen him naked before, or if she’d simply never noticed that he was this attractive.

“Oi! Eyes are up here.” He joked.

She was too overwhelmed to think of a clever comeback. His silence alarmed him.

“Hey, Mia, you alright?” His thumb and index finger touched her cheek.

“If you’ve had a change of heart, we don’t have to.”

“It’s umm, it’s been years since you’ve called me ‘Mia.’” She whispered.

“Has it?”

What did it mean? Why did he suddenly bring that nickname back? Was he trying to tell her something? Does he genuinely not remember? “No, I’m fine. I wanna do this.”

“You sure?” He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Y-yeah. Umm. Yeah I’m positive.”

“Alright, then. May I undress you now?” He looked into her eyes, smiling.

“I - can-“ her hand grabbed searched behind her back for a zipper.

“No, no. Please. Let me.” He walked around in a semi circle to stand behind her. “This gorgeous dress? want to peel it off your body myself.”

She felt her cheeks burn up. Perhaps this dress was the right idea after all.

Matty gently pushed her hair to one side of her neck to find her zipper, causing her skin to prickle with goosebumps. His lips kissed the bottom of her neck where it meets her shoulder softly. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her breath getting caught in her throat.

But the kiss ended a bit too quickly for her liking, she heard the zipper travel down her body and felt the dress loosen around her, dropping in a pool at her ankles.

Matty bent down to pick it up. “Step out for me…good girl.”

Shit. They’d barely done anything yet and she was already desperate for him.

With the backs of her knees against the bed, Matty dropped to his knees running a finger over her clothed crotch and making her gasp.

“Matty-“

“Let me start by reminding you of the last thing we did.” She saw a faint smile on his lips before her eyes closed and she melted at his touch again.

“Already wet?” He clicked his tongue. “Needy, baby.”

She let the slightly embarrassment wash over her. Driven away by the waves of pleasure that his expert fingers were giving her.

“Right. Take these off for me.” He tapped her hip, snapping out of the blur she’d fallen into.

She did as he said, eager to get his hands back on her as quickly as possible.

Silently, Matty took both her wrists, placing her hands on each of his shoulders. “Hold on tight, yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Almost moaning.

His lips wasted no time finding her center. She almost yelped at the feeling of his tongue licking into her. She felt his hot breath against her as he let out a small giggle at her reaction. This wasn’t just fun for her. He was taking delight in the way he made her feel.

“Matty- oh! My god…”

It seemed he’d already memorized all the perfect motions and spots that got her going from last time. It was like he knew exactly what to do and when to do it.

“Fuck! Matty- I’m- ah, if you don’t- s-stop, I’m gonna-“ without thinking, or intending to, her hands found his hair, pulling harshly and moving his mouth away from her.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to. Umm… are you okay?”

Matty laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

“No it’s not, I practically took off a chunk of your gorgeous hair. It must’ve hurt!”

“Yeah, but, I liked it.”

“You…did?”

“Yeah, yeah. Pain and pleasure….mix well sometimes.”

He could see by the confusion in her eyes that she’d never felt that particular mixture. “You’ll see.” He winked.

Was that a threat? A dare? A preview of things to come?

He placed a small kiss to her wet cunt, to give her a little tingle, causing her to lose balance and lean on the bed behind her.

Matty crawled into the bed, hovering on top of her. “See, that’s why I said to hold tight.”

“S-sorry.” She whispered, feeling small as she looked into his eyes above her, his curls dangling and creating a bit of shade over both of them.

“It’s alright. Kinda ready myself. If…you are? Wanna keep going?”

“Mhm…condom?”

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling his wallet out. “Got it.”

As she watched him unbuckle his jeans. the thought that they were about to have sex kept running through her head. She waiting for it to be weird. To be surreal. For her brain to remind her that Matty’s her friend. Friends have no business getting this intimate. But none of that came to mind. All that she was thinking about is how good he’d finally feel inside her.”

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She looked into his eyes. “You?”

He smiled. “I’m really great, baby.”

She felt him get closer, then slowly push into her. Her eyes closed reflexively and she held her breath. Matty noticed her whole body stiffen. His own mind struggling to remain focused at the feeling of her around him. “Umm, no, Amelia. Open your eyes for me, please?”

It took her a second to muster the courage, but she did. “That’s better. I promise you, it’s gonna feel so much more pleasurable if you relax, yeah?”

“S-sorry, I-“

“You nervous or something? It’s okay. Trust me. Breathe. Yeah. That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

She hasn’t really thought about to before. That she tended to clam up when a guy thrusted into her. Maybe it was the anticipation. Or the nerves. She just did it without thinking.

Matty pushed the rest of the way into her and let out a moan that surprised her. She’d have thought he was the quiet type.

“Fuck- y’feel so good, Mia.”

His overwhelmed face suddenly disappeared, he looked down at her. “Felt that. Praise girl, huh? Noted.” He laughed.

“Shit!” She felt the knot in her stomach tight as he pushed particularly deep. “Fuck, Matty, I- you’re so- feels good.” He smiled, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Right, ready to take it up a notch?”

He rested his weight on his forearms, settling into a rhythm with his hips. Leaving her a moaning mess underneath him. Chanting his name, begging for nothing in particular, letting him know how good she feels.

“Cum with me, yeah?”

She nodded, lifting her head off the bed to kiss him.

Matty waited carefully, at what he hoped was just the right moment, he dipped down and lightly bit her shoulder as she unraveled around him causing another wave to hit her, her body trembling around him as her mouth hung open.

She swore she almost blacked out for a second. With Matty placing small kisses all over her neck and body as she came down from the aftershocks.

Slowly, he collapsed on top of her. His thumb reaching for the bite mark on her shoulder and rubbing it soothingly. “See? Told you. Pain isn’t the opposite of pleasure.”

Her blurry eyes fixed on the ceiling, her chest still panting, she ran her fingers through his hair. “Guess not.”

Matty took a deep breath, rolling off of her. “Ready for round two?”

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #matty healy fic #matty healy oneshot #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you

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brw · 3 months ago

Note

Do you have any criticism towards the Magnus Family fans?

Anon, all I got is criticism, I'm a full time hater ❤️❤️

Okay unironically though, if you're looking for specifics, well my prevailing feeling about Magnetfam folks is that a lot of them feel like Batfam people who got lost. By that I mean it feels like a community built around fanlore and fan material, as opposed to actually engaging with the text itself, or if they do engage with the comics, it's often being read with those fan interpretations in mind. You see this with people making House of M to be this great AU thing that makes them a royal family, and not the deeply ableist, misogynistic, racist storyline that it is.

Equally, and I want to make it clear that there's no wrong way to get into comics, and this conversation is much more about how movie characterisations keep them from engaging with comics on their own, but a lot of them appear to have gotten into comics via the X-Men movies, and specifically via the prequel films, which offer a very warped view on Magneto, and especially one on Pietro, not that you can call that character Pietro in a meaningful way. It's in the way the focus is primarily on Magneto, with Wanda and Pietro (especially Pietro) being more accessories to him than actual characters.

Look, I hate the retcon as much as the next person, but Wanda and Pietro's mutant identities, while important, have never been a defining aspect of their characters, and you can easily make a recognisable Pietro and Wanda without making them children of Magneto. But then they wouldn't be related to the X-Men, and you can't expect us to read something that isn't the X-Men, right? It's interesting, because the bulk of the comics that discuss Wanda's mutant identity and her experience of being a Rromani mutant witch are Avengers comics, but those don't count because X isn't in the title. Pietro makes more sense to be related to the X-Men (he was in two different volumes of X-Factor after all), but even then, his character journey can never be contained to just what he does in X Books, and I feel like a lot of people ignore this because of the preoccupation with Magneto. It isn't a bad thing to have a favourite character–but it feels weird to position yourself as a fan of the whole "family" while Wanda and Pietro's relation to the family is only an nth of the total comics they've been in.

Also, I get frustrated with the blanketing of all the interesting dynamics in the family to be the same, "I choose you and I love you" relationship they seem to have now. This is going to be a controversial statement, but I don't think Lorna and Wanda should necessarily get along. I think they respect each other a great deal, but they have never grown up together in any way, and they've never enjoyed the same experience of being on the same team and building a solid dynamic like Lorna and Pietro. And that isn't a bad thing! As someone with family members I was estranged from my whole life and only met as an adult, sometimes you never gain the same level of intimacy and love that you do with people you've lived your whole life knowing, and sometimes you just don't really get on. And that's okay too! It's an awkward situation, but that's just family as a whole a lot of the time, and I would have appreciated seeing the different ways different people in those situations react to suddenly having an entire sister they never knew about. Plus, it would be an interesting spin on the norm, which is that Wanda is much more approachable and social than Pietro, but with Lorna she's suddenly the one struggling to make friends. I dunno, I just think a lot of the complexity of family dynamics gets sucked out and that's a big shame to me because one of the most interesting parts of this side of the Marvel Universe is the exploration of navigating new family as an adult, which is a difficult experience I rarely see represented in media.

Finally, and this is completely a me thing, but I don't like the way Vision and Crystal are excluded from the family. Regardless of your opinions on the healthiness of their respective relationships, objectively speaking they are incredibly important to the family as the reason why Wanda and Pietro each have children. There is no Tommy, Billy or Luna without Vision and Crystal, and it kind of shows how the emphasis really is on Magneto and Magneto alone, because everyone who doesn't have a relationship with him is excluded. As I've discussed before, Wanda objectively loves Crystal as a person, and she should be far more prominent as someone Wanda values as a sister in law than she is. Additionally, Vision and Pietro have a much closer and more mature relationship than they are depicted with in fanon, because people saw that one panel of Pietro calling Vision a watch out of context and have never read anything of them together since. Vision and Crystal ARE a part of their family, and if you can't accept that then I think you need to get into something else.

#asks #anonymous #not sure how to tag this so I'm not gonna

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dathen · 10 months ago

Text

With Season 4 of Hello from the Hallowoods just a week away, I'd like to throw out a fresh post that the Hallowoods Haunt discord is welcoming members!

The server is designed to accommodate people still listening through the series, or just starting out. We have separate spaces for discussing old or new episodes, sharing fanworks, talking about your favorite characters, and more! Members 18+ are welcome, so please confirm that you’re 18 or older when you DM.

Please check out the rules under the read more, and shoot me a DM if you’re interested!

1. This is a sfw server. Please refrain from sharing or discussing explicit sexual content. No judgment, just setting my moderation limits!

2. Racism, misogyny, transphobia, aphobia, identity policing, etc. will not be tolerated. This is an inclusionist, queer-supportive space.

3. Be respectful. We’re all here to have fun and enjoy the series together, but that will all hinge on how we treat each other! Please be respectful of others’ boundaries, ideas, and preferences. Avoid cutting people off to change the subject mid-conversation. If a ship, headcanon, etc doesn’t interest you, just avoid it rather than putting it down. This is an 18+ server, and all members are expected to generally interact on an adult level. This includes…

4. Don’t police others’ ideas. This includes insisting people conform to your headcanons, popular fanon, or behind-the-scenes author commentary. As part of this, we ask that any outside-of-show creator commentary on the show–whether from the official twitter/tumblr account, tiktok, discord, and so on–use a spoiler cut to keep in optional in this fan space. For instance: “(creator) [[Information here]].”

5. Use spoiler cuts for commonly triggering content. This includes graphic descriptions of violence or body horror, in-depth discussions of abuse or bigotry, etc. Put a warning in parenthesis before the cut: “(transphobia) [[spoilered text]].” There is a dedicated channel for lengthy discussion on the topic.

6. No dragging in outside drama. This includes from other fandoms, other discords, or gossiping about fans outside the server.

7. No parasocial shenanigans: Talking about the cast/crew in the context of the show or its creation is fine, but please avoid speculation or invasive discussion (relationships, sexualities, morality, etc.)

8. Please avoid sharing sensitive private information. The show covers many dark subjects such as abuse, mental illness, and queerphobia. Relating to these areas in conversations is expected, but sharing intimate personal information such as detailing an abusive childhood or sharing a full mental illness history is not appropriate for this server. Please keep in mind that this is a semi-public server that includes strangers.

#hfth #hello from the hallowoods #the last time i posted in the tag about this was... *squints* 2021?!#anyway we have lots of fun and always happy to meet new people

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dyinglikenarcissus · 1 year ago

Text

Stripped Naked

Part III

Warnings: 18+ only! Contains: Virgin reader, stripping, alcohol, vaginal intercourse, a couple consenting adults having a good time. It’s pretty vanilla but sometimes all you want is vanilla

He wanted you to come over after your third date but you weren’t ready yet. You knew what ‘coming over for dinner’ meant. It took two months to finally work up the courage to ask Steve to ask you over for dinner again. It was so backwards and silly. And you just weren’t quite ready.

And he respected that.

He kept your dates public and always made sure you were comfortable. He was so respectful it was almost unbelievable.

It took you almost an hour to plan out your text message only for Steve to call you in the middle of writing it and force you to stutter through your speech.

“You are so fucking adorable,” Steve sighs through the phone after you tell him your date idea.

“Should I, um, bring like an, uh, over…night…bag?” You draw out the question as long as possible fearing how ridiculous you sound.

“I don’t know. Do you plan on staying the night?” You can hear the smile in his voice and your face heats the more you think about it.

“Do you want me to?” You whisper.

“I would love for you to stay the night.” There’s such a heavy emphasis on the word ‘love’ that your heart skips a beat.

You suppress a whine at his heated words. “Okay! See you Saturday! Bye!” You rush and toss the phone at your bed. You hear his chuckle because you were too dumb to actually hang up the phone and a muffled, “See ya, sunshine,” before your phone beeps.

You’re so nervous and excited, you have your bag packed by Wednesday.

He was going to have Bucky cook but you thought it would be more fun to cook together. “I don’t know what we have, sunshine,” Steve sighs as you walk together through the grocery store aisles.

“You have to have salt. Bucky’s a chef.”

“You should call him and ask,” the blond suggests while pushing the cart.

“Do you go in your kitchen at all?”

“I go in there to get drinks. I know we have beer, and bourbon, and whiskey, and those limearita things which we need more of. Oh! And there’s water in the door.”

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle as he continues to list all the alcohol in his home. You wind your way around the grocery store and learn far more than you have on any date. Steve has a huge sweet tooth. He wanted every ice cream tub and candy bar he saw but settled on a cherry pie you could share. He’d stand there and read the labels on all of them to convince himself he didn’t need it. “I could have like five protein shakes or this one ice cream bar,” he’d mumble and put it back on the shelf.

He was also extremely picky which was shocking for an adult. “I don’t like brussel sprouts,” he frowned when you read it off on the ingredients list.

“We can have some other vegetable. Green beans?”

“No.”

“Carrots?”

“No”

“Broccoli?”

He paused and thought. “Nah.”

“What do you like?”

He thinks again for a moment, leaning his tall body over the basket handle. He looks like a giant buff child after saying no to every vegetable you could think of off of the top of your head. “Bucky makes a zucchini pasta that I like.”

“Zucchini then,” you smile.

“You don’t come to the grocery store often, do you?” You ask when he comments about how many types of bacon there are.

“Nah, Sam and Bucky do the grocery shopping. I deal with the cleaning and the fixing and the house work. Target and Home Depot are more my speed,” Steve sighs and slips his hand in your back pocket while you wait for the deli man. “I’m good with my hands,” he says as he squeezes your ass and you practically jump out of your skin. He just laughs and thanks the deli man for you before tugging you away.

You weren’t sure what to expect from the home of three bachelors but it certainly wasn’t this.

“You’re sure this is your house?” You whisper as he pulls into the circular driveway.

“I’ve got two roommates with actual jobs. I’m taking full advantage of it,” Steve grins as he backs into the garage attached to an enormous mansion. You notice his bike next to another more classic one. It must be Bucky’s but otherwise the garage is empty. Steve promised Sam and Bucky would be out for the evening leaving the house to just the two of you. You were a little embarrassed by the thought of other people being in the house while the two of you…

Your face heats just thinking about it.

Steve only lets you carry his pie while he leads you into the house with the rest of the groceries. You’re a little glad he did because you’re in awe the second you step through the back door. And it just leads into the kitchen. The chef’s kitchen. With a giant fridge and freezer, a double gas stove, four ovens, and one of those countertop sinks like the Kardashians have!

You almost drop the pie.

“You need a tour,” Steve laughs as he takes his precious dessert from your hands. He links your hand with his and leads you into a dining room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking a beautiful rose garden. There’s a game room, a theater, an infinity pool. The gym even has a stripper pole.

“Why do you ever leave your house?” You question looking up at the enormous chandelier in the entry way.

“Gotta pay the mortgage somehow. I made that, by the way,” he sighs gesturing to the light fixture you were in awe of.

“No!” You hiss.

“Yup. I was going through a sculpture phase. Sam convinced me to go with it and Bucky told me to just make sure it’s functional. So, that’s what happened.”

“Wow,” you whisper walking around in a circle to get a full view of it. “It’s beautiful.”

“The whole thing is recycled plastic. All of the ‘crystals’ were 3D printed and chained together with hot glue. The rods are cut up PVC. All a facade,” he sighs leaning against the table at the center of the entry way.

“Is there a story behind it?” You ask noticing his melancholy attitude toward the piece.

“I went through a bad breakup. She was very beautiful on the outside but completely fake on the inside. Making that was how I got over it.”

“Oh,” you whisper wanting to know more but knowing better than to ask too much about exes. But there’s something you have to ask. “Do you miss her?”

He sighs as you step in front of him, the points of your flats meeting his loafers. “I think part of me always will but I think I’m worth so much more than a pretty face.”

“You are,” you smile. “If she couldn’t see that, I don’t think she really knew you.” He instantly lights back up, smiling down at you before pulling you closer. He kisses your forehead, then your nose, then the very corner of you mouth.

And then you meet his lips. Your hands travel up to his face, cupping it as you pull him that much closer. He groans into your mouth and you feel something stir in your core. Steve’s hands find the backs of your thighs and lifts you to wrap your leg around his trim hips. His lips leave yours to travel down to your jaw before he buries his face in your neck. He teeth nip at your throat and you whine his name not knowing what to do and feeling so much all at once.

“What do you want, sunshine?” Steve husks into your skin.

“You. Make me yours.” He growls. Actually growls. And your need for friction overrides your brain as you grind against his hips.

“Want that. I want all of you,” he swears, placing opened mouth kisses over your pulse and sucking the blood to the surface of your skin. “But we have to make dinner first.” You cry out softly and he chuckles before carrying you back to the kitchen. “Get to work, woman!” He laughs and spanks you softly after placing you back on you feet.

“Is this how you treat Bucky?” You laugh and start unpacking the groceries.

“I spank him harder,” Steve smirks and helps you find some cooking equipment. Cooking is fun and extremely stressful as Steve practically wraps himself around you while you attempt to pan fry two salmon fillets and roast vegetables. He doesn’t even let go when the oil in the pan starts popping.

That’s real love.

You do the same thing to him while he cleans up: standing on his feet and latching onto him like a koala. He seems to love it, stealing kisses every chance he gets.

“Alright you. Time for bed,” Steve announces after drying his hands. He puts you over his shoulder and totes you upstairs like you weigh nothing.

“This is my room,” he announces opening a set of double doors.

“Wow! I love how everything is upside down,” you giggle.

“She’s got jokes when it’s just the two of us,” he observes before dropping you on the bed. You bounce once before getting a good look around the space.

It’s sparse. White walls and leather furniture. There’s a drawing above the bed of Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha. They’re all laughing and hugging and it makes you smile. “Who’s that?” You ask seeing a half finished portrait on a large canvas near the window.

“Sam’s sister. Bucky’s got a huge crush on her and he asked me to paint it for her. I’m having trouble finishing it.”

“A crush?” You laugh. It sounds so juvenile when the man is, like, thirty.

“He used to be such a lady killer now he has a break down just thinking about asking a girl out. The military changes you,” he sighs.

“How did it change you?” You wonder.

“I used to be 5’7” and 110 pounds soaking wet.” You give the giant man a dubious look. He just tugs out his phone and scrolls for a moment before showing you a photo. “Used to stand on a fucking box to reach Bucky’s height.”

“Did they experiment on you or something?” You guess taking his phone to enlarge the picture of him in an enormous suit and Bucky in his army greens.

“What do you think they do in the military?” Steve laughs and swipes through some picture for you. “I just hit puberty late and basic training did the rest.”

“Wow,” you breathe watching the progress photos. “I need to join the army.”

“Nah, you’re perfect,” Steve quickly denies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You just give him a coy look and stand up to inspect the painting more closely. He really is an amazing artist. “Why can’t you finish it?”

“My inspiration is focused on something else,” Steve mutters and picks up a sketch book on his bed side table. He opens it to a marked page and hands it to you.

It’s the selfie he took with you at hero training. But it’s not? “You drew this, huh? It’s amazing,” you sigh in awe.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you grin.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I made it…bigger?”

“No, of course not.” He inhales sharply before opening a door and pulling out another large canvas.

“Don’t get mad.” He prefaces before showing you the art on the other side.

You gasp. It’s the drawing blown up and painted in neon colors. “That’s me?”

“Yeah,” he says tentatively.

“You made me blue like an Avatar! I love it!” You cry happily.

“You really like it?” Steve asks sheepishly.

“Stevie! I love it! It’s amazing! How did you pick the colors? It’s like it’s normal if you don’t think too hard about it.”

“I made a personalized color wheel every regular color corresponds to neon color so the theory still makes since. It’s like a negative but I picked my own opposite colors.” He excitedly explains all the details in depth to you and you just can’t believe someone would take the time to draw you let alone make up a color theory revolving around you. No one’s ever…cared that much.

You stand on your toes to press a kiss to his lips, stopping any further words. When you pull away, all you whisper is a soft “thank you”.

“You’re welcome,” Steve exhales.

You both stare at each other for a moment and that feeling in your core starts to go haywire again.

Steve turns to lean the painting against the wall before spinning back on you. “Can I just…?” He presses a kiss to your lips without even finishing his question. Whatever it was, you would’ve said yes. You tangle your fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. So soft and fluffy and “eek!” You trill as he lifts you by the backs of your thighs.

“Want you in my bed,” he mutters without ever breaking the kiss. You just nod, a soft whine escaping you when one of his big hands gropes your ass.

You suddenly feel your back meet the plush duvet and it all feels so real. The way his hand travels up your skirt and feel of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs.

It’s a little too much.

“Wait!” You cry, breaking away from him.

He immediately stops And pulls away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I-I just…can I use your restroom?”

“Of course, sunshine,” he smiles and points to a closed do before rolling off of you.

You sprint towards the door and double back to grab your duffel bag before closing it firmly behind you. You don’t even turn on the light. You’re too nervous.

You hold your face squeezing your cheeks between your palms to try to calm yourself. It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s Steve. It’s just Steve. The man you’ve grown to love and trust.

He won’t hurt you.

All of the apprehension is in your head.

You heard him. He thinks you’re perfect. He’s perfect. You just need to make it through this first time.

You take a deep breath and rifle through the clothes you brought before finding the bright yellow garment.

You can do this.

You had so much confidence when you bought it but putting it on for the man you bought it for is the true test of strength.

You return to the room to find Steve lounging across his bed. His face instantly lights up when he sees you attempting to hide behind your bag.

“My sunshine girl!” He grins and beckons you back to the bed. “Don’t try to hide that gorgeous body from me. Come here.” You take a shaky breath and put down your bag before approaching the bed. “Beautiful,” he sighs getting an unobstructed view of your body wrapped in a strappy yellow lingerie set you got for him. He takes your hand and makes you twirl for him. “I’ve got to see you on a pole. Come on.” He’s off the bed in an instant and tugging you toward the door.

“What? Where…?” You gape attempting to slow him down.

“The gym,” he laughs and pulls you again.

“Oh no! I’m not leaving this room in this.”

“There’s no one here. Come on.” You let out a soft whimper but you follow him anyway. “Here.” He tugs off his shirt and hands it to you knowing you��re uncomfortable with the idea. It’s still so warm as you slip in on and follow a little more confidently.

Steve takes an experimental spin on the pole before holding out an arm for you. You happily fall into his embrace and his kiss.

His very shirtless embrace.

You place a hand on his toned stomach. So many muscles. You let out a satisfied hum as your hand roams up to his large pec. He let out a growl and nips at your bottom lip.

A feeling flutters through your stomach and heads straight for your core.

Steve grips your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. “Show me your moves, sunshine.” Steve places your hand on the pole below his.

“Right now?” You laugh nervously.

“Yup. Right now,” he grins and steps away from you to take a seat on one of the benches. “The t-shirt really makes it.” You giggle and toy with the hem of his shirt before gripping the pole a little more confidently.

“What are you dancing to?” He asks tugging his phone from his pocket.

“You pick,” you smile and do an experimental twirl for him.

“You don’t even need music,” Steve chuckles and plays some surprisingly soft big band music. You weren’t expecting this.

You hum softly as you contemplate the song before doing one of the five moves you know.

“Perfect,” Steve cheers as you successfully spin down the pole hanging on by just your legs. “You know, it helps if you have more skin contact.” You roll your eyes and finally remove Steve’s shirt. “Fucking beautiful,” he sighs as you continue your dance.

“You really think so?” You ask making a jump at the pole.

“I know so,” Steve sighs and stands to join you. “Come here.” He pulls you into a kiss, his hand holding you by the bare small of your back. You feel it slowly inch up but you’re so lost in his lips and body that you don’t notice him unhook your bra until you feel the material loosen around your chest. You let out a soft gasp and attempt to catch it but Steve grips one of your hands. “I want to see you. All of you.” You stare back into his deep blue eyes before finally giving him a small nod. The bra falls to the floor and his hand runs up your side, his thumb tracing the crease of your breast making you shutter. “Can I touch you here?” You quickly nod again wanting for more of that feeling but he grips your chin and directs your gaze back to his. “Can I hear you say it?”

“Yes, please, Stevie,” you whisper.

“Please what?” He smirks still holding your face and caressing the skin just shy of your nipple so you can barely think.

“Please, touch me!” You finally whine. “My breast. My ass. Everywhere. Please!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve grins and finally connects with your pebbled nipple making you moan his name. “I love when you say my name like that,” he groans and bites your bottom lip.

“Stevie,” you whine in response, wiggling against his roaming touch.

Then one long strong finger slips just between your clothed folds and you practically crumple at the feeling.

“Like that?”

“Mmmhmm,” you moan squeezing your eyes shut as he adds a little more pressure to your clit.

“You know what I’m gonna ask,” Steve goads as that sinful finger makes a lazy circle around the bundle of nerves.

“Please, play with my pussy. It yours. All yours,” you husk leaning back against the hard metal pole to support yourself.

“Such a fast learner,” Steve chuckles but removed his hand from your core. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. I just need you to trust me.”

“I trust you,” you agree instantly.

“Such a good girl,” he sighs and hooks his fingers into the band of your panties to shimmy them down your thighs and to the floor. “Such a beautiful, perfect girl,” he mutters as his kisses trail lower to you neck and collar bone. He nips at the thin flesh there making you shutter before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Steve! Please! Ohhhh!” You cry as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh. You hips make waves against nothing as you grip his shoulder and the pole behind you.

“Do you need some attention down here?” Steve asks running his fingers along your folds. You nod still unable to open your eyes. “Look at me,” he orders and you reluctantly focus on him. He’s on his knees now in front of you, his beautiful face level with your chest as you watch him. You caress his cheek and he turns to press a kiss into your palm.

“Let me make you feel good.” You nod and he lifts one of your thighs just to toss it over his shoulders and dive face first into your pussy. You almost scream at the feeling. He skillful tongue makes loops around your clit and you’re forced to grip his hair for balance. His fingers squeeze into your ass, forcing you closer as his mouth delves deeper into your folds.

Steve’s nose bumps your clit as his tongue wiggles into you and your knees give out completely.

But he’s so strong. He just holds you there. And oh god! You just hump against his face as he pulls something out of you that your vibrator never could. You let out a soft whine as your climax hits and practically smoother him in your core but he keeps going and you feel it getting higher and faster and tighter and-

“Eeek!” You scream as squirt right into his waiting mouth. Your breaths are shallow as you ride out your orgasm on his face, his tongue keeping pressure on your clit until you’ve had enough.

You’re mortified. You’re body’s never done that before. You slowly release the death grip you have on Steve’s scalp only to find him grinning up a you.

“Fuck. I’ve never gotten anyone to do that before,” he chuckles and presses kisses to you mound and hips.

“What?” You try to process what just happened while he showers you in affection.

“You just came, sunshine. And it was glorious.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head quickly as Steve stands back up showing off his soaked face. “That’s all me, huh?” You ask, running your fingers over his wet chin.

“All you. And you taste amazing.” Your face heats but you don’t have time to feel embarrassed as Steve tugs you from the gym. “I can’t let your first time be on the gym floor. We gotta do this right,” he insists as leads you through the halls completely naked. But it doesn’t bother you at all in your dazed state. You just nod and let him take you where ever he wants.

Then Steve’s bedroom door clicks shut behind you and a little part of you wakes up.

It’s really about to happen.

Steve brings the hand he was just holding to his lips before placing it at the crotch of his jeans.

“You feel that, sunshine?” You gasp at how big he is. You grip his confined cock slightly and he lets out a soft hiss. “You feel what you’re doing to me?”

“So big,” you mutter.

“All for you.”

You remove your hand from his crotch and undo his jeans shakily. You look up at Steve to find him watching you intently. “It’ll fit?” You ask making him smile.

“I’ll make sure it fits,” he assures you and presses his jeans and underwear down his hips. He’s built like a god. Thick muscular thighs and a red cock that drips precum like a broken faucet once it’s exposed.

You shutter slightly but let him guide you to the bed. “Lay down,” Steve mutters, following you on top of you while pressing kisses to your lips. That’s all you can focus on. The way his lips make your stomach do somersaults and your core flutter. You completely forget how nervous you were just a few minutes ago.

He makes you feel so comfortable as his hand strokes your arm and hip softly.

“I’ve been told that it stings a little your first time,” Steve mutters, pulling away a little to watch you. “I obviously don’t have much experience with that but I don’t want to hurt you,” he trails.

“You’ve been perfect so far,” you assure the blond, pressing your body up to kiss him. “I trust you.”

He nods and presses one of your thighs to your chest. He takes in a shaky breath. “God, this pussy is fucking beautiful. Do I need a condom?”

You shake your head with a small smile. “IUD.”

“Last chance to say no.”

“Stevie. Please, fuck me,” you beg just wanting to get past the pain and trusting he’ll bring you pleasure.

“Alright. Okay. Deep breath.” You nod and inhale just for him to press into you as you start to exhale. You let out a soft cry as he slowly fills you.

This was something you’ve never experienced before. You felt so full and tight and then it got to the point where it burned. You hiss as Steve pulls you a little tighter to him.

“Relax. You’re squeezing the shit out of me.” Steve instructs and you attempt to take a deep breath.

You gasp as he rocks into you, inserting just a little more at a time. “Almost there,” he mutters. “You’re doing so good for me, sunshine.” You feel so full as he finally bottoms out leaving you whimpering into his neck.

Steve pauses deep inside of you, letting you adjust to his girth.

He’s so heavy.

Your breaths come out shakily as he pulls away. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

“N-No,” you whisper. “You’re just really…really big.”

He chuckles at your words. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Let me know when I can move.” Steve presses his lips against your temple before trailing them down to your jaw. You smile at the affection and attention, preening as he whispers sweet nothings into your neck.

“You feel amazing, sunshine. Made for me.”

You whimper and wiggle under his hold not sure what you want but you feel restless now. With him deep inside you, stretched to your max, his touch and words sending butterflies around your stomach and to your core with every breath. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take.

“Stevie, I think I’m ready,” you whisper.

His voice starts with a soft hum against your skin. “You sure?” You nod and he quickly pulls away and lifts a skeptical brow at you.

You can’t even laugh, you’re so full but you still smile up at him. “Stevie, I want you to fuck me the way you’ve been threatening to since I met you. That’s an order,” you state confidently.

He grins down at you and wordlessly grips the calf of your leg folded against you, pressing into you a little further.

You’re pretty sure you’ve lost your breath.

You let out soft squeaks with each of his deep thrusts until you feel like you might pass out.

“Hey,” Steve breathes, slowing down to a soft wave. “Are you breathing?”

You gasp and laugh in embarrassment before taking a deliberate breath. “I think I forgot how to for a minute.”

Steve tosses his head back in laughter. “Did I take your breath away, sunshine?”

“Give it back, Stevie,” you demand playfully.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it,” he grins and presses a kiss to you lips, then another, and another. Steve tosses your bent leg over his shoulder giving you much more breathing room as he goes back to fucking you.

His thrust are deliberate, like he’s searching for something; never hitting the same spot twice. You start to ask what he’s looking for until it hits you like fright train.

“Fuck!” You groan, tossing your head back into the pillows.

“Yeah, there it is,” Steve breathes. Your eyes squeeze shut as everything sparks in your body at once.

Your vibrator has never done this. You can’t help but whine as he rails into that spot over and over.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Squeezing the shit out of me,” Steve moans as he grips your thigh. You can barely feel it. Every nerve ending is firing on all cylinders. You start to feel like you can’t catch your breath but your lungs are completely full.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you cry repeatedly.

“Let go for me. Fuck,” he groans. “Come on!” He barks and you almost cum on sight. Your breath hitches as stars light the darkness behind your eye lids. You feel like you’re gasping for air as you body wracks against Steve’s. Somewhere you start to feel kisses against your neck and jaw as you catch your breath. Your fingers trace the back of Steve’s shoulders as you start to return his kisses. “There you are,” you can hear the smile in his voice as you slowly open your eyes to meet his ocean gaze. “You okay?” You nod. You think all you can do is nod. He strokes your cheek and starts to pull out of you.

“Was that it?” You ask a little disappointed that it’s over.

“You aren’t satisfied with that?” Steve smiles stroking at your now empty but so sensitive core.

“I-I am! That felt amazing! But I thought it would be…longer?” You question, not exactly sure what you wanted it to be. It was good, really good! But it didn’t seem finished.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far,” Steve laughs and leans back on his heels to watch your prone form. “But I’m not done with you. Turn over,” he commands. You quickly scramble onto your stomach and wait for further instructions. Steve just chuckles behind you. “I didn’t think you were that green. On your hands and knees.”

“Oh,” you squeak and quickly follow directions.

“God, this ass,” Steve groans as he spanks you softly before squeezing the fatty flesh with both hands. “I’m gonna get a little rougher with you, alright. You let me know if you need a breather.”

You nod before remembering yourself and give and affirming “okay”.

Steve manipulates your body, spreading your knees and pulling back your hips until he has you in a bizarre yoga position.

“Comfortable?”

“Not really,” you admit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“You won’t care in a minute,” Steve laughs and grips your hips. “Let me know if you need a break.” You nod and he slips back inside of you and you both let out soft groans.

This feels different. This feels deeper and there’s more friction and you feel more grounded and “Ugh!” You can’t help the noises that escape you as he finds that spot again but it’s so much more intense as he drives right into it over, and over, and over.

Your breaths come in short gasps and soon your arms can’t hold you up anymore. You fall onto you elbows smoothing your face in the pillows below you. Your cries and moans are muffled while Steve sets a punishing pace inside you.

You’ve cum at least once like this but you can’t tell anymore after that. They all seem to blend in as Steve fucks you into the bed. Moisture drips down your thighs as the noises your slapping skin gets wetter.

“Fuck! You came like a faucet, baby,” Steve moans. Your core clinches at his words making him groan and spank you again. “Let’s see if you have another one in you.” Steve grips your shoulders and pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest.

“Oh fuck,” you whine. This new position just gives him more leverage as he attempts to destroy your insides.

“Yeah. That’s it,” Steve groans, pressing his lips to your throat as he tugs your head back by your braids. “Fuck, I’m close. Give me one more.” And with all that he’s doing inside you, he presses his fingers to you swollen, sensitive clit and rubs tight circles over it. You let out a hoarse scream as you cum again but Steve doesn’t stop. His fingers continue to work and his dick continues to stir you up until you let out a soft shout and you feel something so satisfying empty from your core just in time for Steve to fill you up again.

“Shit,” Steve groans as he paints your insides in hot sticky cum just as you paint his bed in your own. “Fuck,” he pants when you feel his cock jerk inside you and release a little more.

He collapses back on his heels dragging you down with him as he catches his breath. You pant as you lean back against him. You never felt so raw and vulnerable in your life.

You can’t wait to feel like this again.

Your eyes finally slide open to see the trail of drops left on Steve’s comforter from your release.

“Fuck, sunshine. Look at that masterpiece,” Steve sighs referring your cum.

“Steve,” you shy away, attempting to hide your face but you’ve already opened everything to him. What was the sense in hiding now?

Steve presses a kiss to your cheeks as his hands wrap around your waist. He holds you so close and you feel so good in his arms, you start to relax and instantly feel his cum start to drip from you and onto him and the bed.

“I’m definitely going to have to wash this,” Steve laughs. “Totally worth it.”

You smile and look back to press a kiss to his lips, tangling your fingers behind his head to pull him closer.

“I love you,” you whisper softly against his lips.

“It was that good?” Steve asks with a soft smile as his fingers tickle your sides.

“It was that good,” you confirm confidently.

Steve hums in satisfaction and presses another kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he sighs into your skin making you shiver.

Steve lets out a soft groan as he slips from inside you making you whine softly from the loss. “How are you feeling?” He asks, rubbing your shoulders. “Satisfied? Was that enough? If not, give me a couple minutes and we can do it again,” he grins making you giggle.

“I don’t think I can take anymore,” you whisper. “Am I supposed to be this sore?”

“Again, I don’t have any experience on your end of it but I think so.” He finds a dry spot on the bed to lay down and watch you still sitting back in the position he left you in. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs. You just shake your head and glance over his naked body.

“You’re gorgeous,” you admit looking at all those muscles as he lounges across his bed.

He just smirks at you a reaches for your hand. He pulls you to him and you pick around the wet spots to lay against his chest.

“So, you’re not a virgin anymore. How’s it feel?”

You giggle, snuggling into his side before answering. “Um…I feel the same?”

“You’re telling me virginity is a social construct meant to keep women from exploring their sexuality?” He gasps making you giggle again.

“I guess so,” you agree, your fingers tracing shapes around his abs.

“Thank you for sharing your first time with me,” Steve sighs.

“Thank you for being an amazing partner,” you smile.

“Next time, you’re on top,” Steve declares and moves to get up.

“Where are you going?”

“Gotta clean my girl up. Unless you want my dried cum all over you. I’m not complaining. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

“Oh,” you squeak at his sudden possessiveness.

“Too much?” He smiles pressing a kiss to your head.

“No, I like it,” you whisper and lay back against the pillows.

“So, I can keep you locked up here? You can be my little sex prisoner?” Steve jokes as he walks off.

“Depends,” you muse and stretch only to curl back into the pillows.

“On what, my little sunshine?” Steve asks returning with a damp towel. “Open up,” he requests pointing at your legs.

You wince slightly at his touch. You didn’t realize how raw you truly felt. He glances up at you after tossing the towel on the floor to focus in you. You give him a coy smile. “Depends on if you’ll strip for me.”

“Oh, honey. Name the time and place,” Steve coos nuzzling his nose against your as you pull him into an embrace. “On one condition: you’ll strip with me.” Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head which he counters with an adamant nod. “It’ll be so much fun! Couples routine! I’ll have my choreographer make us something.”

“Steve! I can’t-no!”

“Yes! What was all that about trusting me? It doesn’t have to be for a paying crowd. It can be just for us,” he mutters against your lips. “It would be so hot.”

“It can be just for us?”

He nods, kissing your nose. “Just for us. And maybe Nat. And Sam and Bucky have to see it of course. And my choreographer, of course. And Carol! She’s trying to replace me and I need to assert my dominance.”

You giggle at his enthusiasm. “Stevie, no one can replace you. But this is starting to sound like a lot of people…”

“Sunshine, you haven’t met Carol. She’s blond, she’s tall, she was in the air force. Her stage name is Captain Marvel. She’s coming for my entire brand! And I want to show you off. I want people to know you’re mine,” he trails.

You watch him for a moment and try to look at it from his perspective. Dancing was a huge part of his life. He wanted you to be part of your life.

You think you can put your insecurities aside for one evening. For him.

You take a deep breath and nod. “Okay.”

“Really?” Steve grins excitedly.

“Yeah! Really,” you giggle. “Let’s do it. Show Carol there’s only one Captain America.”

Steve presses a deep kiss against your lips. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too.”

Part II | Master List

#steve rogers fic #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader

78 notes · View notes

kwanisms · 2 years ago

Text

Kinkuary 25 Seokmin — period sex // massages

➥ service top!Seokmin x fem!Reader

summary: Seokmin knows that Y/N’s period can cause some pretty intense cramps and after reading that sex can help with the pain, has decided to test the theory out.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): protected sex (be responsible like Seokmin and Y/N), period sex (so mentions of blood obviously), reader is miserable and in pain for the first third of the story, Seokmin is an attentive and caring boyfriend and willing do try anything to help the reader out, massaging, nipple play, and I think I got them all! If I missed anything, let me know!

a/n: TW: PERIOD SEX. IF YOU ARE BOTHERED BY THIS, DO NOT READ!!! Seokmin seems the type of boyfriend to do anything he can to make his partner feel better and period sex is right up there. I hope you enjoy this part of Kinkuary! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan

Seventeen taglist: @aikisbbq @niktwazny303 @indigo35 @moonlightsora @witherednotes @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @yeosayang @katsukis1wife

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.

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Taglist closed.

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“Minnie, can you hand me my heating pad?” You croaked out from under a pile of blankets. Seokmin moved to grab the device, handing it to you and watching as you tucked it under the blanket with you before he plugged it in.

When he came home early to surprise you, he didn’t expect to find you curled up in the bedroom, crying and holding a pillow. He rushed to ask you what the matter was, immediately wrapping himself around you.

His question was answered when you let out a cry of pain and he realized what day it was. “You started your period, didn’t you?” He asked softly, resting his chin on your shoulders as he gently stroked your arm.

When you nodded in the affirmative, he quickly worked, tucking you into bed, piling your favorite blankets on you and grabbing everything, water, medication, even making a quick run to the convenience store down the street to get you some of your favorite snacks.

He returned to find you engulfed entirely in the blankets.

“Thank you,” you mumbled from under your blankets. Seokmin smiled and knelt by the edge of the bed and lifted the edge of the blankets to peer at you. “No need to thank me baby,” he replied. “I got you some snacks,” he added.

You smiled at him weakly. “Thank you babe,” you whispered as you settled back under the covers. “Let me know if you need anything baby,” Seokmin said as he moved to the door to give you some quiet and watch some TV.

He’d barely been sitting for a couple minutes before he lost interest in the show he was watching. His mind was preoccupied with you. He didn’t want to bother you but he wanted to check on you and see how you were doing.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he sent you a simple text.

Dokydoky💕: how are you feeling baby?

My princess💖: aren’t you in the other room?

Dokydoky💕: i didn’t want to bother you by coming in ):

My princess💖: you’re too sweet ;-; i’m as okay as i can be

Dokydoky💕: cramps won’t go away?

My princess💖: no 😭

My princess💖: i took the medicine and i’ve got the heating pad but they aren’t going away

Dokydoky💕: my poor baby 😔

My princess💖: ㅠㅠ minnieeeee~

Seeing that you were still in pain made his heart hurt. He hated when you were in pain, especially when he couldn’t do anything to alleviate that pain. Closing the message thread, he decided to a quick search to see what might help you.

As he scrolled, he found that the common remedies were over the counter medications, heating pads, rest, sleep, blah, blah, blah. He was about to close the app when something caught his eye. A single word that piqued his curiosity.

Sex.

He decided to do another quick search, in an incognito window so he wouldn’t have his agency asking why he would be looking that up.

He didn’t scroll far on the page, clicking on one of the first results and started reading. It sounded easy enough. It wasn’t sex perse that made the cramps go away as much as the orgasm.

You and Seokmin had never had sex while you were on your period. It wasn’t because you thought it was gross or something, you just were usually so miserable that the thought never crossed Seokmin’s mind.

He decided to check more remedies and found that in addition to sex, massages, especially abdominal ones, seemed to help. With new information, he got to his feet and let them carry him to the bedroom.

He peered in and saw your head peeking from under the blanket, playing on your phone. Upon entering, you looked up and smiled at your boyfriend as he came over to the bed and climbed on, settling next to you.

“Feeling better?” He asked softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You shrugged. “It still hurts but it’s not constant,” you answered.

You spoke to soon.

A sharp pain, starting in your stomach and shooting down your thigh, made you cry out and drop your phone onto your chest as you tried to curl in on yourself.

Seokmin felt his heart tug slightly and decided to go through with his idea.

“Come here,” he started softly, pulling back the blankets and joining you under the blankets. He held out his arms, allowing you to cuddle up next to him before he enveloped you in a warm hug.

“You know,” he continued. “I did some reading. Just to see if anything else might help.” You glanced up at your boyfriend as he spoke. “And one thing the articles I read all had in common other than the things you’ve already tried, was… sex.”

He glanced down nervously at you, ears turning red as he saw the peculiar expression you gave him. “I’m not trying to turn this into some sort of ‘I’m horny and wanna convince you to have sex with me’ kind of thing!” He explained quickly.

“It’s more about the orgasm. Apparently, an orgasm helps alleviate pain and since you’re not feeling well and clearly in pain, i thought maybe it could help.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you sure?” You asked. “I thought you wouldn’t want to because it’s gross—.” Seokmin cut you off with a kiss.

“The only time you’re gross is when you burp when I’m kissing you,” he answered making you whine. “That was one time! It came out of nowhere!”

Seokmin laughed, hugging you tighter. “I know,” he said smiling. “I just like to tease you.” You whined again, pouting for added measure. Seokmin captured your pout in a kiss. “So what do you think?” He asked. “I could always just help you get off and then take care of myself later,” he continued.

“Okay.” Your voice was so low, he almost didn’t hear your reply.

“O-okay?” He asked. You nodded. “Let’s try it.”

It took much research on Seokmin’s part and layering the bed with a sheet protector and a couple towels before you were ready. Making sure to go slowly, Seokmin took his time working you up: starting with a massage.

“I heard this can help,” he murmured as you laid on your back, shirt pushed up as he carefully and gently massaged your stomach, focusing just under your navel. “I could always give you a full body massage,” he added, glancing up at you.

“I know you said your back always hurts while you’re on your period.”

You didn’t need much convincing, sitting up to remove your top and turning over onto your stomach. “Just relax,” Seokmin said as he straddled you, his hands working over your shoulders and back, using his thumbs to massage your muscles.

“You’re surprisingly tense,” he commented as he moved down your back, massaging the places you often complained hurt during this time of the month. His focus and determination to make you feel better was already working wonders as you started to relax.

As his hands moved further still, you couldn’t help but giggle as he massaged your butt, giggling as well as he jiggled your cheeks. “Stop being weird,” you whined jokingly, making him clear his throat and apologize though a smile was still present.

He resumed massaging your butt, taking care to not tickle you.

“Turn over for me,” he said, climbing off you.

You pushed yourself up to look at him. “What?” You asked softly. Seokmin motioned for you to roll over. “Full body massage,” he reminded you.

You sighed and obliged, rolling onto your back and making sure to lay on the towels. Seokmin went back to work, massaging your hips before moving his hands down to your thighs.

As he massaged your calves, avoiding your feet because the last time he tried to massage them, you almost broke his nose, kicking out when he touched them, you couldn’t help but feel wet. Whether it was your period or not, you weren’t sure but you knew that familiar coiling in your belly.

Seokmin’s hands continued back up your body, past your breast to massage the area around your shoulders and collar. You let out a soft moan as his fingers worked over your skin.

Seokmin felt his ears burn as did his cheeks. He was painfully hard in his sweats and wanted nothing more than to sink himself in your warm walls but this wasn’t about him. This was about you.

"Does it feel good?" Seokmin asked softly, one hand moving to cup your cheek. You nodded slowly. "Please touch me," you whispered. Seokmin chuckled softly. “I am touching you, Y/N,” he answered.

Letting out a frustrated whine, you grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and moved it down, placing his hand between your thighs, his palm resting against your center.

Seokmin’s eyes widened at your sudden surge of confidence but his expression softened as he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. “Of course,” he replied, slowly working his fingers up and down your sex over your shorts.

Just the light touches alone were enough to start. “Don’t stop,” you whispered as his hand continued to move.

Seokmin’s eyes scanned your face before leaning into kiss down the side of your neck, lips leaving soft but wet kisses in their wake. You moaned out louder as he took your nipple into his mouth, giving it light licks as his hand continued to working you up, adding more pressure.

Your hand moved, fingers carding through your boyfriend’s hair as he let your pert bud fall from his mouth, his breath fanning over your skin as he turned his attention to the other side.

“Minnie,” you moaned, back arching slightly. You felt him smile against your skin, whining as he pulled away. “You always say my name so sweetly,” he murmured, kissing you. “More,” you whined, rolling your hips.

“You ready for me?” Seokmin asked, watching your face as you nodded, brows furrowing in pleasure as you drew your bottom lip between your teeth. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You nodded again. “I’m sure, Minnie.”

Your boyfriend pushed himself up, removing his hand and grabbing the handle of the bedside table drawer to pull open, reaching inside to grab one of the condoms from a box you kept there. You whined softly for him as he removed your shorts and underwear before tugging off his clothes and throwing them to the bedroom floor.

Seokmin carefully tore open the foil packet and rolled the condom down his length before kneeling between your thighs. “Are you sure? Last time I’m asking,” he said with a cheeky smile. You nodded once more. “Please.”

Seokmin pushed into you, tip gliding easily into your wet cunt. He knew it had more to do with the blood than it did with you being wet but when you moaned only in pleasure, he knew you were more than turned on.

“You okay?” He asked softly, having bottomed out already and now was just pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead. You hummed in response as your body adjusted rather quickly to the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock stretching your walls out.

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Feels good. Really good.”

Seokmin smiled, kissing the tip of your nose, pulling back a little to thrust in to you slowly. “And that?” He asked. “How does that feel?”

“Do it again,” you whined, Seokmin chuckling as he obliged.

He thrusted back into you a little harder, reaching a little deeper, making you gasp.

As quickly as he started, Seokmin stopped. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No, don’t stop!” Seokmin studied your expression as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in. The way your lips parted slightly and your grip on his bicep told him all he needed to know.

His hips snapped against you a little harder and faster, setting a steady pace, one hand grabbing your thigh to hike it higher on his waist while the other grabbed the sheets under you, holding himself up on his elbow.

“Just like that,” you moaned, thighs squeezing around his waist as the head of his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Right there!”

Seokmin aimed for the same spot, watching your face as he did. “Like that? Right there?” He asked with a slight chuckle as you nodded frantically.

“Just like that, baby,” you answered.

The room was quiet save for the faint music in the background from Seokmin’s playlist, the sound of skin on skin, and your occasional moans and grunts.

“I’m close,” you whispered, a thin layer of sweat covering both yours and your boyfriend’s bodies. “Me too,” Seokmin panted, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he chased his high.

“Oh shit, Minnie,” you whined, your orgasm finally crashing over your tired body as you came, thighs shaking and tensing as your walls squeezed around Seokmin’s cock and sending him over the edge.

He cursed under his breath as he came, filling the condom and nearly collapsing on top of you. You felt him press a couple kisses to your neck as he panted heavily, your hand moving to comb through his sweaty hair.

“I’ll get off you in a moment,” he said in a shaky voice. “Just let me catch my breath first.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “It’s okay, Minnie,” you replied, just as breathless. “Take your time,” you added. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Seokmin let out a laugh. “Yeah, but we still have to clean up.”

You whined, wrapping your arms around your sweet, caring, and attentive boyfriend. “Later,” you answered.

“Just let me hold you for a bit.” Seokmin laughed before lifting his head to look at you. “Wait, your cramps—.”

“Are gone. Just like you said,” you replied with a smile.

“And I think we know exactly what to do if they come back.”

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