#give that man a good old break down make him throw things through the room make him scream and destroy something

[paracosm-draw]

Rewatched ROTS for the 100th time tonight and I still can't believe that Obi-Wan didn't feel when Anakin fully turn to the dark side, betrayed Mace and the Council and killed all the younglings. There's no way, considering how close they are, that he didn't feel a thing like Yoda did, and I'll be eternally pissed about this 😤

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Please...

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- “Please,” she once again begs, “ I want you not him. Make me yours, please.” Wanda removes her head from your shoulder to look at your eyes with a new look of desire and lust. She somehow moves her lips closer to yours without them touching, knowing that if they touched, neither of you would be able to stop.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Implied/reference cheating, Fluff and Smut, Strap ons, Rough sex, Dom/sub undertones, Multiple orgasms, Fingering

This is an old fic I found from my ao3 so the writing quality isn't that good, apologies but I don't have the time to improve it.

General Master List

W/c- 1.5k

“We need to stop,” Wanda quietly whispered as her lips ghosted yours. You currently had her pinned to the wall, a knee between her legs, yours mouths millimetres apart as you panted against each other. “Vision is going to propose to me,” she painfully said while closing her eyes to avoid the look on your face.

“That didn’t stop you from proposing that I fuck you last night,” you murmur at the shell of her ear, hearing her breath hitch at your words. “Especially in the bed you share with him. The father of your children, the man who doesn’t deserve, never deserved you.”

“Please…” she whimpers placing her head on your shoulder as she still remain trapped between you and the wall.

“Please what?” you softly say, “Leave? Tell me to go and I’ll go. You know I’d never hurt you.”

“Please,” she once again begs, “ I want you not him. Make me yours, please.” Wanda removes her head from your shoulder to look at your eyes with a new look of desire and lust. She somehow moves her lips closer to yours without them touching knowing that if they touched, neither of you would be able to stop.

“Are you sure?” you faintly say while staring into those green eyes you could get lost in. “There’s no going back,” you warn as there’s a lot she’s giving up or changing for you. She answers your question by crashing her lips to yours like she’s been starved of this intimacy for years. A low groan escapes your lips as her hands wrap around the back of your neck to keep you in place. Your hands find her hips and press her more into the wall making her moan. Suddenly you lift her up and hold her against the wall as her legs wrap around your waist, the friction against her clothed core making her break away from the kiss with a gasp. Threading her hands into your hair as you pepper kisses along her jaw and neck, you push off the wall with one hand and move around your apartment. You stumble through the living room while stubbing your toe making her chuckle against your skin and eventually make it towards your bedroom. Well your bedroom door.

“Fuck,” she gasps out as you push her against the door and practically rip her shirt off her body. Her hands fumble for the end of your shirt and eventually pulls it over your head. “Bedroom. Now,” she rasps out between heated kisses making you fumble with the door handle. Quickly, the door swings open making you almost fall into the room but you keep steady with the help of her magic. You move towards the bed and gently place her on there before swiftly climbing on top of her and crashing your lips to hers once again.

“Tell me what you want,” you mutter along the skin of her neck as you make your way down to her bra covered chest. You nip at the top of her breasts making her back arch giving you the perfect opportunity to unclasp her bra before throwing it somewhere in your room.

“Fuck me please,” she whimpers out while her nails scratch down your back making you groan around one of her nipples. You gaze upwards to see her eyes closed in pleasure as you continue to suck and lick at her sensitive flesh.

“You have to be more specific love,” you taunt out while letting go of a breast with a loud pop. A quiet whine leaves her lips at your words as you know she gets embarrassed asking you for things but you also know how wet it makes her. “Come on love, use your words.”

“Please fuck me with your fingers, mouth, cock! Just fuck me please!” She whimpers beneath you and you move back up her body to kiss her with this new sense of desire. You pull back slightly to pant against her lips while looking up to see her green eyes blown with lust and want causing a smirk to appear on your face.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” you purr out while moving back down her body, leaving marks now as you don’t care if Vision sees them. “No one will be able to fuck you as good as me,” you murmur at the waist band of her jeans. In one quick motion, you pull down her jeans and underwear in one go leaving her bare beneath you and to gasp as the cold air connecting with her exposed core.

“Holy shit,” Wanda moans out as the feeling of your hot breath causing a wave of arousal to wash over her. You don’t waste anytime teasing her as you both just want each other. You attach your lips to her clit making her moan loudly and run a finger up and down her folds, gathering her wetness. Before sliding your finger in you pull away from her soaking cunt and look at her directly in the eyes while sucking her juices off your finger, moaning at the taste of her.

“You taste delicious my love,” you mumble out before returning to her clit and sliding a finger into her dripping core. A low groan leaves her lips as you slowly thrust your finger in and out of her before adding another one. You can feel her walls slightly stretch around them and decide to add another one making her back arch once again. You pick up the pace of pumping your fingers in and out of her causing her to whimper at the feeling while also moaning into her, the vibrations sending a different pleasurable feeling through her.

“Please, I’m so close,” she begs, her accent thick and sultry. You smirk into her core before sucking and licking harder at her clit while curling your fingers at her g-spot making her instantly cry out. You feel her legs shaking besides your head before moving to wrap around your back and neck, holding you in place as she crashes head first into an orgasm. Her whole body tenses and she lets out a string of moan before going limp in your hold as she recovers from her first orgasm.

“Good girl,” you praise while gently pressing your lips to hers, a whine escaping her at the taste of herself. The kiss remains gentle until her hips start grinding up into yours making you groan at the contact. You pull away abruptly to strip yourself of your clothes and you quickly grab the strap on from your bedside table. “Do you still want this?” you mutter against her lips while bracing yourself on one arm above her.

“Yes, please just fuck me,” her tone desperate as you pull on the toy as quick as you can. Her nails return to you back leaving red marks as you slowly press the toy into her. As soon as she’s adjusted to the size, you start to thrust your hips into her and lean down to take a nipple back into your mouth. You switch breasts before pulling back to sit on your knees, moving her legs to go over your shoulders making her scream out in pleasure. “Fuck right there please!” she groans out as you snap your hips into her repeatedly, the force of your thrusts making the whole bed shake. With how brutal you are fucking her, it doesn’t take long for Wanda to once again come but this time you don’t let her ride out her high before pushing her over the edge once again.

“How pathetic must he be if a piece of plastic can please you better?” you tease out while slowing your thrusts down so she can catch her breath. “And I didn’t even need to touch your clit,” you mutter while kissing along her chest and moving upwards to meet her lips. “You did so well for me my love,” you whisper while kissing her forehead, still buried deep inside her. “Can you do one more?” You feel her nod against you but you remind her to use her words.

“Yes,” she breathlessly says and that’s all you need to flip the two of you over. A sinful moan leaves her lips as she straddles your waist, the toy never leaving her cunt as you switched positions. Slowly, you guide her hips on your lap as you move to sit up so you can kiss her once again.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” you praise her again and again as you notice how her face flushes even more at the praise. Gently, you move your hand to circle her sensitive clit and help her reach her final orgasm of the night. You muffle the moans that escape her before carefully rolling her onto her back and pulling out of her. Swiftly, you go to the bathroom to grab a wash cloth and help her with aftercare before joining her in the bed.

“I love you,” she sleepily murmurs while nuzzling her face in your neck, arms wrapped around your body, legs tangled under the sheets.

“I love you too,” you whisper back before drifting off to sleep, holding her as close as possible.

[lost-in-fandoms]

"Tell me again."

Max hums, moving his hand in slow circles along Daniel's back, feeling his chest move against his side, his face hidden in the folds of Max's t-shirt.

He bows his head, pressing a kiss against Daniel's hair, shifting against the hotel's pillows until he's comfortable again.

"It's going to be sunny," he says, voice low, letting Daniel's curls tickle his lips and nose. "It's going to be sunset, orange, the trees all golden in the way you like."

Daniel's back shifts under his hand, his fingers twisting in Max's shirt.

"We'll be sitting in chairs, because you have old man knees, and would complain about sitting on the floor."

He twists away from the halfhearted poke in his side, then settles back.

"They will be those garden ones, the ones with the straw?"

"Wicker," Daniel corrects him softly, voice scratchy.

"Yes, wicker." He tugs Daniel even closer, not knowing how it is even possible. "With pillows, so you can curl in them like a little cat."

He smooths his hand down Daniel's back, like he does with Sassy, when she stretches out beside him on the bed, similar to how Daniel is now. Does it again when he feels Daniel's shoulders uncurl slightly.

"We will be drinking your weird beers, the expensive ones that taste worse than all the others."

"Craft beer isn't weird," Daniel argues, just like Max was expecting him to. He sounds like there's something stuck in the back of his throat, and Max kisses his hair again.

"It is weird, Daniel. Beer does not need to be that expensive."

He gives him space to reply once more, but Daniel doesn't.

"We will drink your weird beer, and we will talk about that time we ate pasta in your hotel room."

It wasn't just one time, but Max knows he doesn't need to specify. They're both thinking about the same one, illegal spaghetti ordered from room service, hidden from their trainers, sauce on the corner of Max's mouth, cleaned by Daniel's thumb first, Daniel's mouth later. And even if they aren't thinking about the same, it doesn't matter. Every plate of pasta shared, in every hotel room, would matter just as much, stepping stones in their story, just as important as that first kiss.

"And it will be rainy," Max continues, voice even lower. His t-shirt is damp, stretched by Daniel's tense fingers. Daniel's back is shuddering, even when he holds him closer and closer and closer.

"It will rain, and you will have a blanket, because you always get cold, even more when it is humid."

The thing that was in Daniel's throat is in his too now.

"We will talk about how stupid everyone was. We will say it was all unfair. But we will not be angry anymore, because it will not matter anymore."

Daniel's hair smell like Max's shampoo, even if he usually doesn't use it, because he hates how dry it makes it feel. Max can taste salt on the back of his throat as he shifts his head slightly, trying to at least keep his ears dry, now that his cheeks are a lost cause.

Daniel's breathing is a stuttered rhythm against his ribs.

"We will cook eggs," Max pushes on, pressing every word against Daniel's skin, hoping every one feels like the i love you that it is. "Because we will have chickens on your farm, like a real farm, so we will be good at cooking eggs. And you will drink your wine, and sing your songs."

His voice breaks, sudden betrayal, just as Daniel trembles in a sob, but Max pushes through. They've both always known how to push through.

"And I will ask are you happy and you will say yes," he says, making it sound like a promise, because it is a promise. "And we will not regret any of it."

He knows they won't. Not the angry moments, not the painful moments, not the annoying little moments they will never even remember. They will take all of them and throw them into the jar of their lives, little pebbles, and colorful marbles, and shards of glass smoothed out with time and love and distance, all mixed together.

"We will sit on your chairs, and they will have nothing, and we will have us."

He holds Daniel closecloseclose, because he's never learned how to let go of the things he cares about, has always clung to things with his teeth and desire bared, and he has no intention of starting now. He has no intention of starting ever.

Even if this is not the way he wanted things to happen, he doesn't believe in letting go, especially when it comes to Daniel.

He swallows, clears his throat to try and dislodge the tight knot of feelings there, raises a hand to swipe his thumb along Daniel's wet jaw.

"We will have chickens, and a garage full of dirt bikes, and I will ask Grace to teach me how to make the pasta sauce you spilled all over the carpet when you were five."

Daniel nods against his chest, fingers relaxing. His breathing is still uneven, Max's t-shirt is still damp, but he can feel him going lax against him, relaxing bit by bit.

"We will," Daniel murmurs, voice shaky enough it sounds closer to a question.

"We will," Max tells him, firm. Would be happy to tell him again and again, until Daniel's voice doesn't shake on it anymore. "We will eat so much food, and we will become fat, and we will be happy. We will."

Daniel nods again, then shifts, wiggling in Max's hold until he can properly climb on top of him, pointy elbows planted on the bed, above Max's shoulders, trembling fingers tracing the wet lines on his cheeks, red-rimmed eyes soft.

When Daniel kisses him, they both taste like salt, exhaustion and the future.

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

Doubt

Title: Doubt

Pairing: Alastor x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Part 1 of the Never and Always series

Word Count: ~2,881

In which the reader inadvertently lets her feelings slip, and she finds out what she really means to Alastor.

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, A cuss word in there somewhere, ooc Alastor maybe

When the Radio Demon himself had asked you out to dance, how could you possibly have said no? After all, he wasn’t just the Radio Demon to you, he was Alastor - the man who had saved you from a life of imprisonment after you had naively sold your soul to the Vees, who had brought you back to Charlie’s Hotel, and who had since become one of the most trusted people in your life.

Even now, you weren’t exactly sure what had drawn Alastor to you all those years ago. Whenever you asked, he was quick to change the subject or deflect. 

Not that you would ever complain, of course. Alastor had saved your life and demanded nothing in return, save for you staying away from the Vees’s territory, which you were only so happy to do.

Once you had settled into the hotel, you had found yourself a real family. One who watched your back and hugged you when things got hard. One who loved you despite your past and your flaws. One who didn’t abandon or use you. 

All in all, your life here was better than your life when you were alive. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Now, as you rifled frantically through your closet, you couldn’t help but wish that Alastor had given you a bit more warning before your outing. 

He had approached you only half an hour prior, materializing in your room and grabbing your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before straightening and asking if you would do him the honor of accompanying him to his old friend Mimzy’s club tonight.

You’d said yes, of course. Who would ever deny a night out? And how hard could it be to get ready in only an hour? 

Exceedingly difficult, as it turned out.

Your rummaging became increasingly desperate as you searched your closet in vain, throwing dresses, shirts, blouses, and everything else that you owned on the floor as you discarded them. You were going out with Alastor, after all. You had to make a good impression.

You were stopped by a sudden knock at the door. 

“Come in,” you called over your shoulder.

You listened as someone’s light footsteps entered your room. “Geez, dollface, was there a break-in or something?” The voice’s tone changed from confusion to amusement. “Or are ya finally burning all of your clothes so I can take you shopping?”

You huffed in indignation and spun to face Angel Dust, hands on your hips. “My closet is fine, thank you. I’m just-” you looked back at your empty closet and sighed, dropping your hands to your sides. There was no way you would be ready in the next half an hour without some help.

You turned back to face Angel, a sheepish grin on your face. “I don’t have time to go shopping, but I’ll let you give me a full makeover tomorrow if you help me get ready to go dancing at Mimzy’s club tonight.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back against your doorframe. “A full makeover? You going on a date or something?”

“I’m going out with Alastor.”

His smile only grew in size. “Going out with Smiles tonight, huh?” He glanced down at your discarded pile. “I guess I can put something together. How much time do I have to work my magic? A few hours?”

You flushed, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Can you make me presentable in the next thirty minutes?”

Angel waved his hand dismissively before grabbing your hand and leading you straight out of your room and across the hall to his own bedroom. “Of course I can, sweetcheeks, that’s nothing. I’ll have you ready in a jiff.”

You smiled appreciatively as Angel led you swiftly to his vanity and sat you in his chair. “I owe you one,” you promised.

He gave you a wink. “You don’t owe me nothing, sweetheart. Just sit back and let me work.”

~~~

True to his word, Angel managed to have you brushed up and looking like a princess in less than half an hour. To be honest, you were pleasantly surprised when you saw the finished look. 

Not that you ever doubted Angel’s skills, of course, but where you had expected a bold face of makeup and a showy dress that followed today’s trends, he had gone in a vastly different direction. 

Your makeup looked much more natural than you thought Angel was capable of. Your eyeshadow was dark, but subtle. Your eyeliner was winged, of course, and he had painted your lips a dark shade of red. The best part of the ensemble, though, was that he had dressed you in a surprisingly 50s looking modest black dress that he had had in his closet ‘just in case’. All in all, you had to admit that it was better than anything you could have ever put together.

You spun in front of his full length mirror. “I love it,” you said quietly, unable to stop the grin that spread across your features. 

“Of course ya do,” Angel replied from his place on the edge of his bed. Fat Nuggets had taken up residency in his owner’s lap, and both of them were watching you with smug glee. 

Well, as smug as a pig could get, anyway.

“And if I ain’t mistaken,” Angel continued, “Your date started five minutes ago. You should probably stop spinning and start walking.”

You stopped admiring your reflection and flushed. “I’m that late?” You walked backwards towards the bedroom door. “Thank you Angel, I owe you, really. See you later!”

The sound of Angel Dust chuckling kindly followed you across the hall as you quickly closed the door to your own room behind you. 

A voice sounded out of the darkness. “Ready now, are we?”

You jumped at the sound and whirled around, flicking your lights on and staring in surprise when you saw Alastor perched on the edge of your bed. 

“You know, my dear, it really is bad manners to…”

The demon trailed off when he finally caught sight of you.

You suddenly felt exceedingly self conscious as his eyes started to roam over your ensemble. It was 50s inspired, sure, but what if Alastor found it offensive? What if he thought it was laughable? What if he hated it? What if -

You stepped back as Alastor melted into the shadows and reappeared directly in front of you. His eyes studied your face almost curiously.

“Angel helped,” you piped nervously. “I couldn’t have done it on my own.���

“Nonsense,” Alastor replied as he raised a hand. He gently grasped your chin in his fingers and tilted your head from side to side. “The outfit you wore when I asked you to join me would have sufficed.”

You scoffed, pulling your chin back and looking down at the floor. “We’re going to Mimzy’s club, Al. I couldn’t have just shown up in a random shirt and pants.”

A clawed hand tilted your face back up to meet Alastor’s. You gasped in surprise when you saw that the two of you were practically nose to nose. “I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear,” Alastor said in a low voice.

“Never,” you breathed, not daring to blink.

If there was any one consistent presence in your life, it was Alastor. He had never steered you wrong, and the least you could do in return was trust his word.

The Radio Demon’s smile softened at your response. He released your chin and stepped back, looking you up and down one more time before turning away. 

“I meant what I said, darling,” he drawled, the static in his voice ever present. “You would have been quite a gem even in your-” he rolled his eyes and waved his hand dramatically “-random shirt and pants.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from rising up to your cheeks. It was one thing for Angel to appraise his own work, but it was quite another for Alastor to agree with his assessment. 

You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry I was late. Should we go? I know Mimzy doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

A lie. You’d never met Mimzy before in your life. But if you were going to try and stop your blushing cheeking from giving away just how much you appreciated his compliment, you had to distract yourself somehow.

Alastor looked down at his pocket watch and hummed. “I do suppose we should be on our way. She did request an audience, after all.”

You blinked. “An audience? I thought…”

The overlord looked back at you with a raised brow, looking more confused than anything. “You thought what, my dear?”

You felt your shoulders sag, though you internally chastised yourself for feeling at all disappointed. How could you have assumed that Alastor’s only goal today was to dance with you at a club? Of course he had another motive. 

You forced a smile on your face. “Nothing. Sorry. We should go.”

You tried to brush your disappointment away. It didn’t matter why he had asked you. The fact that he had asked at all was plenty.

Except it isn’t, a little voice inside of you whispered. For years now, Alastor had been your protector, watching over you and ensuring your safety, even while helping Charlie to look after the hotel and feuding with Vox. 

As time had slowly gone by, you had hoped that maybe you could help Alastor as much as he had helped you. He wouldn’t let you help at his radio station, and since the Radio Demon wasn’t exactly an emotional sharer, you had decided that the least you could do was be a constant, solid presence in his life. 

You had even thought that you were making progress over the past few months, and your hopes had been solidified when he had asked you out to Mimzy’s club. After all, he would never have asked you if he didn’t see you as some sort of friend, right?

Now, though, you could see how foolish you had been. How could you have ever hoped to help Alastor in any way? He was a demon of solitude, and your wish to help him had made you blind to that.

You started towards your door, hoping to hide the embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

But before you could make it, a shadow appeared ahead of you, frowning down at you as it blocked the door.

You refused to look him in the eye. “We’ll be late, Al. We need to go.”

“It seems as though you aren’t quite ready, my dear.” The static of his voice grew closer as he spoke. You tensed up when you felt his faint breath on the back of your neck. “After all, you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

You finally turned to face him, hating the feelings flooding through your veins and the thoughts rushing through your head. How was Alastor ever meant to learn to lean on you if you couldn’t even hold yourself together? It was bad enough that you lacked his grace and poise, and now he would see what a truly pathetic and fucked up specimen he had saved all those years ago.

Alastor looked down at you, his expression ever passive, his smile ever present. But beneath the mask, his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were narrowed as he studied your face.

From behind you, his shadow placed two gentle hands on your shoulders, carefully holding you in place as if afraid that you would bolt.

You swallowed and forced your head up to meet the Overlord’s eyes, plastering a false smile on your face. “I’m ready.”

“You most certainly are not, my dear,” Alastor replied, the static in his voice fading to a soft buzz. He raised his hand silently and placed it on your cheek.

Instinctively, you tilted your head and allowed your cheek to be cradled gently by his clawed hands, closing your eyes as you savored the feeling. It was almost enough to make you forget what had upset you in the first place.

“Mon chere,” Alastor said, something resembling concern present in his voice. “What’s troubling you?”

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring into his. “I thought…” you began once again before pressing your lips together. It would do nobody any good if you confessed your thoughts out loud. You might even inadvertently push him away.

“Thought what?”

His eyes were searching yours for an answer you weren’t sure you were yet willing to give. His hand remained cradling your face, and his shadow behind you had yet to release you from its gentle touch. 

You took a deep breath. Even if your true feelings did push him away, didn’t you at least owe it to him after all this time to be honest? Even if it was the last thing you were ever able to do for him.

You closed your eyes again. “I thought we were going to Mimzy’s to spend time together,” you admitted, hating the way your breath caught, hating the way your voice cracked, and hating the way your heart stopped. You pushed forward. “I didn’t realize you were going for business, I thought maybe you wanted to spend time together.”

A laugh bubbled its way through your lips. “It was silly of me to assume, though. I know you’re busy, I just thought maybe I was getting through to you. I thought you were starting to let your guard down around me, and that I could just be there for you.”

You stepped to the side, away from both Alastor and his shadow. “I thought we were becoming something like friends. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” You squeezed your eyes shut in desperation. “I know that I’m nothing more than a soul that you saved. I know that, I promise I do. And I won’t ever again mistake your actions for something that they’re not. So please don’t give up on me, Al. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

The room was silent. 

Too silent.

You slowly glanced up.

Alastor’s shadow was gazing at you, unmoving from his spot by the door. Beside him, Alastor was looking past you and at the wall, his hands clenching his staff and his smile strained. 

“You don’t need to say anything,” you said as you rushed to fix what you had broken. “Truly, you don’t. Let’s just go to Mimzy’s and forget that this ever happened.”

“Unfortunately, my dear,” Alastor drawled, his eyes flickering back to you. “This isn’t an interaction that either one of us will be able to forget by morning.”

You swallowed heavily, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to escape. “Please, Al.” Your voice was hardly a whisper. “Don’t give up on me, not now.”

At your words, his shadow melted into the ground and materialized before you, placing both hands gently on your cheeks and lowering his head down until your foreheads touched. Just as suddenly, the shadow stepped back and melted into the ground again, allowing the real Alastor to take his place.

He looked down at you once again, but this time, his expression was almost open, almost tender, almost endearing. He took your hand in his and pressed it to his lips before pressing it to the place that his heart would have been beating if you had met in another life.

For a moment, he said nothing. You waited with bated breath, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest at the fact that Alastor had yet to release you.

Then, when you thought you couldn’t bear the silence any longer, Alastor hummed softly. “I do hope you haven’t started to doubt me, my dear.”

“Never,” you vowed without a moment’s hesitation.

Alastor’s smile seemed to ease slightly. “I may not rely on you as much as you yourself would like.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was trying to choose his words carefully. “But do know this, mon chere. I doubt I would still be in one piece if it wasn’t for you. And I have no intention of giving you up.” His eyes flashed. “Not ever.”

Your knees almost gave out as you breathed a sigh of relief. Without thinking, you pressed forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around him tightly. “Thank you, Al,” you whispered, your spirit bright.

Alastor gently took hold of your shoulders and pushed you back, though his eyes shined softly. “Careful now, my dear. We wouldn’t want to ruin all of Angel Dust’s hard work, now, would we?”

You laughed and lowered your arms. “I guess not.”

The Radio Demon smiled down at you, holding out his arm like the gentleman he was. “Shall we, then, my dear?”

You smiled back at him. For all of his secrets and tricks, he had only ever been kind to you. Why wouldn’t you accept?

You linked your arm through his and grinned as he guided you towards the door. 

Perhaps you were doing a better job with Alastor than you had thought.

Part 2 Here!!

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your father’s nurse, Heather, doesn’t arrive until after noon. Your mother spends much of the morning waiting on her, wondering if something happened. The woman with the steely hair explains that she had to drive from several towns over. It doesn’t matter, you’re just happy to have her there.

Your dad remains despondent. Your mother frets and hovers as Heather’s voice carries through the old farmhouse. She enunciates and projects as she speaks to the husk sitting in the recliner. Your mother paces and as you peek in on the nurse trying to guide your father in a simple exercise, your heart knots and nearly breaks.

You fell outside, proclaiming to your mother that you’ll check the hen house for eggs. She doesn’t argue even though you already did so that day. You tramp out onto the porch and clatter down the stairs. Things change so quickly.

In the distance, you watch the tractor drawing a straight line across the fields. You shield your eyes from the sun and squint. Timothy steers the smaller of the machines closer by. It should be your father out there. He doesn’t belong inside, he’s no type of man to be so still.

You sigh and muster your courage. You go back inside and find your mother standing at the door of the front room. She watches Heather and your dad. He mimics her clumsily as she shows him what to do. He’s shaky and gives up with a harrumph. He’s never been the one to surrender.

“It’ll be okay,” your mother whispers.

“Ma,” you rub her back, “we should start dinner. The day’s half gone.”

She sniffs and nods, “you’re right, honey.”

You walk silently to the kitchen and start on the evening meal. Her special sweet and sour meatballs. The sauce is a family recipe and she serves the signature dish on white rice. The work will keep you both distracted.

🌾

Your mother helps your father to the table as you go out to get your brother and Walter. You find Timothy with a cigarette between his lips. You scowl.

“Don’t let ma see,” you warn him.

“Sorry, I… it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, I know,” you utter dully. “Just don’t smoke by the door.”

You leave him, searching around in confusion. Where’s Walter? Did he leave already? He swore he’d stay for dinner and it’s all your mother talked about as you cooked. You know she’s avoiding mentioning what’s on all your minds.

You walk along the front of the house and turn the corner, nearly colliding with Walter as he comes around. You cry out and laugh at yourself as you touch your chest. He doesn’t flinch.

“Sorry–” You begin.

“My fault,” he insists, “was just making sure the tractor’s read for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Tomorrow?”

“Still lots to be done,” he says casually.

“Right,” you agree, “er, dinner’s ready.”

“You cooked?” He wonders.

“I helped,” you say as you turn and walk ahead of him.

“I saw you. With the chickens,” he follows at half a step. He’s like your very own shadow.

“You did?”

“Tractor stalled,” he supplies. “I think I figured it out though.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you reply awkwardly. You’re not used to him speaking so much. Not to you. “I made dessert tho–”

As you crane to speak over your shoulder, simultaneously lifting a foot to climb the porch steps, your toe hits the wood. You cry out and throw up your hands, bracing for impact. You don’t hit the rigid zigzag, instead caught around the waist as you hover just above them. His strength is effortless as he has you bound up in his thick arm.

Again, Walter saves you from catastrophe. He pulls you back and rights you, brushing against you as he unhooks his arm. He clears his throat and runs his hand down the front of his shirt.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, I…” you giggle and shake your head, “I’m so… all over the place right now. I’m sorry–”

“As long as you’re fine, no need to apologise,” he assures you.

“Ha, yeah,” you rub the back of your neck and look pointedly at the steps. You take each deliberately, “just needa watch where I’m going.”

He hums and trails after you. As you get to the door, he reaches around you to pull back the screen before you can. You thank him and go inside, stopping to slip off your flats as he unties his boots. The savoury scent of dinner draws you in.

You wait for him and lead him to the dining room. Your mother welcomes him in as she sits close to your father and feeds him. Timothy’s eyes flick back and forth between your parents and his plate fearfully.

“Pat,” Walter approaches the table with you, “Maddie,” he greets firmly, pulling out a chair. Before you can do the same, he gestures you into the seat before him.

“Oh, thanks…” you accept and sit down at your father’s other shoulder and Walter lowers himself into the next chair. You catch your mother’s gaze as she peeks over at you.

“Thank you for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure,” your mother insists, “really. You are helping us so much, dear. I can’t–” her voice crackles, “I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“Ma,” Timothy utters, embarrassment lining his tone.

“It’s the decent thing,” Walter says plainly.

“Would you like some meatballs?” You offer, “rice?”

“Please,” Walter nods and sits back as he watches you scoop a healthy serving of both onto his plate, “thank you.”

You recline and spoon out your own dinner. A lot less than his. You’re not very hungry. Your mom’s plate is barren as she focuses on your dad. Or you assume she does until you once more meet her eye. Her eyes drift over to Walter and back again.

“Very good,” Walter says after a bite.

“Oh, well, my daughter did all the hard work,” your mother preens.

Your furrow your brow at her lie. You are ever her helper. She told you what to fetch and to set the timer but she has to measure it all so precisely.

“Mmm, well, she was taught well, I’m sure,” Walter comments and shovels more into his mouth.

“I didn’t do that much,” you scoff as you slice into one of the large meatballs.

“Oh, of course you did, honey,” your mother chimes. “She’s a great cook, Walter, don’t let her fool you.”

You don’t argue. It isn’t the time and besides, it’s harmless. Just another distraction. She’s redirecting the attention so she doesn’t have to acknowledge the reality sitting right beside her. A few white lies are nothing compared to that.

[mschimdt]

The Stripper

mike schmidt x f!reader

warnings: so much things man, m recieving, breeding kink? dom reader, stripping bro litteraly idk just read at your own risk

2.5k words

---------------------MINORS DNI-------------------

.

mikes been stressed out lately, his job as freddys going awfully, hes been working there for just over a week and the weird shit thats happened to him there is fucking insane

he caught the animatronics moving on the cameras once, blood stains everywhere (which he cleaned up) and then he met vanessa, she told him what type of shit goes down in this placr and now hes terrified, he only goes there to prove to his aunt that he can keep a job

today was jist an ordinary night, mike was doing a night shift as a security guard at freddys, he usually just slept through his shift because who the fuck wants to break into an old abandoned pizzarea?

apparently someone did, a loud smash woke him up, when he looked at the cameras, it was a group of teenagers exploring but one of them got the attention of the animatronics and is now throwing things at it trying to stop it from chasing him, he got cornered in a room, mike watched him get his upper body get bit off on thr cameras "oh shit" he whispered to himself he realized he had to leave, or he was next after those teenagers he checked the cameras once again, to see where the animatronics are not giving a shit about the people that broke in, when he made sure the animatronics were distracted, he made a run for it, towards the exit

thats where he saw vanessa, holding her gun "the fuck happened mike?" she said, aiming her gun at the hallway infront of them "s-some kids broke in- one of thems dead i sae him on the cameras!"

"shit, we need to get out of here" he was looking at her confused on why her eyes widened, he looked behind him, there was an animatronic rushing their way, "HOLY SHIT" he yelled, running for his life throigh the exit door, up the stairs, and into his car where he was struggling to put the keys in

once he managed to get them in, he quickly drove away, once he was far enough he picked up his phone and called vanessa to make sure she was okay

she picked up "hey vanessa u good?"

"yeah im fine, i dont think those kids are tho"

he spoke to her for a bit before ending the call, parking in some random area he didnt recognise , he sat there for a bit, head against the steering wheel as he processed what happens

'if i keep working there thag might happen to me' he thought

he was abut to leave the unknown area before he noticed a sign above him 'strip club huh' he thought to himself, it was still 3 am, after arguing with himself for a while, he convinved himself to go in.

he took out the car keys, leaving his car, as he walked in purple lights blinded his vision, as he adjusted, he realized the security guy at the door was asking for his ID, "may i have your ID sir?"

"yeah- yeah sure" he handed him his ID, the man read it and gave it back to him and noded, as mike walked in. there were men recieving blowjobs and lap dances

he seated himself on a couch facing the stage, where a woman was dancing, as she finished her preformance your name was called, your stage name 'play kitty' he thought to himself, what a weird choice , as you walked on, mike stared at you, not believing his eyes.

you were the most beautiful thing hes ever seen he stared at you dancing on the pole mesmerised by you

you looked at him, all the guys here were the regulars, exept him. you've never seen him here before, he had his arms crossed across his chest while he watched you

you made eye contact with him- quite a few times on accident, he was an attractive looking guy

you finally finishrd your preformance, walking off the stage, where alot of guys followed you begging you to get a room with them, but you replied "i dont do private bookings!" the guys were still pooling around youx a few leaving after they heard what u said, but a few stayed still begging.

mike got bavk to his senses 'why would a woman as beautiful as her want me when she has all these guys anyways' he said to himself, going to walk around the club to look around, he caught you walking somwhere in the corner of his eye, but he iust ignored you, he couldnt stop his breathing speeding up though, your clothes were really revealing. g string, with a string bra

he walked somewhere, and sat down. opening his phone to check with max and to make sure that abby was okay

he felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned his head around, eyes meeting your beautiful ones

"u-uh hi-?" hr said, nervousness in his voice, "can i sit down with you for a bit? never seen you here." you said "yeah- yeah sure"

you sat down next to him "so what brings you here" you said making eye contact with him, or trying to, because his eyes would meet yours for a few seconds then he'd just look away

"i dont really know honestly" his voice deep, sadness showing on it

"rough day?" you asked

"yeah kinda"

"what happened?" you asked "never mind- sorry i shouldnt be asking"

"no no its okay i needed someone to talk to anyways, uh something happened at work- something really shitty, you dont happen to know that one abandoned pizzarea? freddy fazzbears or something"

"no way! you work there? i used to go there as a kid, you said smiling "what happened there?"

"well, the animatronics are haunted or some shit, some kids broke in while i was on my night shift and they all got absolutley obliterated by the animatronics- weird shit"

"i heard they were haunted, never thought it was real, yeah right whats your name?"

"mike" he replied "whats yours?"

"my stage names play kitty- weird i know, my actual names (Y/N)"

you had a little conversation, exchanged numbers, and mike left, he was definetley coming back here

it was 5 am now, mike drove home, as usual, doing his usual things

the day after, he went to work, he couldnt stop thinking about you, thats when you texted him

"hey mike its (y/n)!"

he picked yp his phone and read the message, then he replied

"hey y/n whats up"

"u coming today ;) ?"

"probably, not sure yet gotta finish work first"

"ill take that as a maybe, see you there"

you said, it was 3am again, "fuck this" mike abandoned his shift, locking up the outside of the pizzarea

he drove back to the club, walking in again the man standing at the door let him in, recognising him from yesterday

he walked in, you were on stage, when you saw him walk in, you eyes brightened, a smirk growing across your face

you continued your preformance, having collected a little bit over a thousand dollars from the guys there

you walked off, heading straight to mike, "you came!" you said with a smile

"why wouldnt i come back? couldnt resist a girl as beautiful as you-" he just said that- 'what the fucks wrong with me' he thought to himself "shit sorry"

u smirked "whyre you apologising? ur pretty cute mike" you said, chuckling afterwards

'she just said that? what?' he thought as you both made your way to a table to sit down

"what made you become a stripper- dont answer if you dont want to its fine" mike asked

"nah its alright, i just needed a but of extra money, i live alone and one job wasnt enough, plus i couldnt bare always staying alone at night- now im never alone im just followed around by desperate guys, theyre annoying but theyre the source of my income" you said

"my shifts almost over, if you want you can come to my place and we can continue talking there? id like to get to know you mike"

"yea- yeah sure why not" he said, shocked at your question, youve barely known him for a day and youre already inviting him to come over

you packed your things up, "mike u got a car with you? my friend drove me here today and im pretty sure she left aa bit ago- she told me"

"yeah sure, gimme ur house adress ill drive us there" he said

u got into mikes car, u told him the adress. he drove yoy both there , parking outside your house

you ooened the door, letting him in, as he walkes through the enterance, he noticed the house displayed your personality very well, clean and organised " alright gimme a second lemme set this stuff up in my room, you can come if you want to" mike nodded, following you into your room, he realized you were just a normal girl, trying to get some extra money to keep things running

" so mike, you got any siblings" mike froze for a second, remembering garret "you okay"

"yeah sorry, i have 2, or 1 techinaccly" "oh! im sorry for asking-"

"no its okay, it was a while ago, he was kidnapped infront of me i was 13, he was 8"

"im sorry mike.. what about your other sibling"

"yeah abby, shes 9, im doing the security gig to keep her, i beat up a guy at a mall last year and i lost my job, and i was going to lose guardianshio over her due to my aunt, so i have to work this shitty job now to prove i can keep a job"

you put your hand on mikes thigh, mike took a deep breath, looking down at your hand on his dark blue jeans, "are you okay mike"

"yeah im fine just somethings on my mind" he said, looking down onto his lap, where your hand rested, you pretended to not notice his growing erection, -shit shit shit' mike panicked he tried to cover it eirh his hands butyou grabbed him gently by the chin, turning his face to look at you, "you need some help with that?" you said, a smirk wide across your face "w-what do you mean?" mike tried to act confused, his face turning red "with this?" you placed your hand onto the growing tent in his pants

the moment your hand touched his erection, he threw his head back, letting out a soft moan "looks like you do" you said, climbing onto his lap, he rested his arms on your hips as you grinded your clothes cunt on his clothed erection

he let out soft moans, his head thrown back, his hands squeezing your hips you leaned down to his ear "whats wrong mikey? feels good?" you said, kissing his earlobe, making your way down his neck

you reached a hand under his shirt, exploring his torso, your hand wandering up and down it

"take it off" you said, mike obeyed, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his bare chest, light abs across his stomache, you continued kissing his neck, reaching his colar bone where you sucked and nipped making him release liw whimpers, creating a hickey, "gosh mike keep making those sounds and i wont spare you" you said, smirking across his chest, taking in his scent

he smelled like cologne, mixed with the smell of sweat

mikes strong arms wrapped aroundd your waist as you make your way down his chest , and stomache, without hesitation, you slipped your shirt off

mikes facial expression changed, he looked at your tits, then he looked away again "you can look mike its okay"

you made your way, kissing down his stomache, once you finally reached his v line you said "lay down mike, let me make you feel good"

he listened, once he layed down, you unbuckled his belt, and pulled off his pants, leaving his boxers on

you started palming his dick through his boxers, you could tell he was trying his best to keep quiet.

"dont hold back your noises baby, i wanna hear you" you said as you slipped your finger under the waist band of his boxers, slowly pulling them down, his cock sprung out free, he was big, so big, 7 inches minimum

you wrapped your hand around the top of his dick, placing your thumb on the tip wiping away the precum, "mmph" you slowly leaned down, parting your lips, wrapping then around his erect cock, you took as much of his dick as you could in your mouth, you could feel your wetness through your panties

you bobbed your head up and down, making mike release the most lewd noises youve heard a man make. and you quite enjoyed it, "o-oh my go- mph-d im close! im close!"

you just kept going at the same speed, bobbing your head up and down, you felt mikes dick twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close

he looked down at you

you let his dick out of your mouth, stroking it with your hands till he came

streaks of white painted your face and his stomache

"holy shit" was all he said, he rested his arms next to him looking down at you

"one more time? in my pussy this time?"

"yes please" as soona s you whard those words, your pants were already off , panties slipping off with them, mike stared at you completely bare "goddamn" he whispered to himself, you positioned yourself above himx slowly lowering yourself onto his dick, his strong arms held you as his length slid down inside of you

you adjusted, and soon enoughc you were bouncing uo and down his dick, the only sound in the rokm was the slapping noisea from both your bodys and the moans you both let out , your hands supporting you on mikes chest

mikes hand reached down to your pussy. fingers making contact with your slick clit, rubbing circles onto it

"shit mike im close-" "me too" he said throwing his head back to let our another moan

you came first, the knot in your stomache coming undone.

mike remembered he wasnt wearing a condom, "im not we-wearing- shit. a condom." he said oanting between each word

"cum inside me" you said, leaning down and kissing his lips, swallowing all his moans and he came close to releasing his load

he moaned into your mouth, before releasing the warm whiye liquid into your used cunt, you bounced up and down his dick for a bit morw helping him ride out his high, before you collapsed onto him.

after a few minutes, you both cooled down, he pulled himself out, watchinf the cum drip from your cum

he looked at you and all he said was "we should do this again sometime"

-------------------------------------------------------

part 2?

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 36 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

You are getting the feeling that Mariko Kimura doesn’t really like you. 

And maybe it’s stupid, but you’re really not used to that.

Worse yet, this woman basically has a license to beat the hell out of you as The Personal Trainer–how else are you going to learn how to defend yourself in this vicious world? Strikes, blocks, throws, joint locks–she’s taking her job seriously, and after a week has gone by you’re not sure how much more you can actually handle. Maybe you’re a hiker girl, but it’s been a long time since you’ve done any athletic activity that demanded you give everything you have, take a breath, and then give fifty percent more. Your body hurts everywhere. Your torso is bruised in twenty places under your top, and you think she might have knocked one of your back teeth loose with a dirty punch.

You do not want to complain to John. You know he went through so much worse, and it would feel like tattling. So you take a moment to compose yourself on a bench before returning to your room, breathing deeply. That hurts too–jesus fuck, did she crack your ribs? 

What you really want to do is have a good little cry, but that’s completely off the table. 

Show no weakness. 

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Your eyes fly open to find Winston Scott, looking dapper as ever in a pinstripe suit, standing nearby. You hadn’t heard him approach. That’s probably not a good thing, even in this supposedly neutral environment. 

“I’m fine,” you say brightly with a smile you know looks more like a grimace. “Just…catching my breath.”

“May I?”

You scoot over on the antique wooden bench, very aware that you are sweaty as the proverbial whore in church, surprised this fastidious man would dare come within six feet of you at the moment. 

“I must admit I was surprised when I saw that Jonathan enrolled you with Miss Kimura. She is close friends with Akira Shimazu.” 

“I…don’t know what that means,” you admit. 

“Ah. Well, Jonathan should.”

You blow out a long breath through your teeth, bracing your kidneys. Maybe a shower and a dip in the cool waters of the pool downstairs would be nice. 

“I don’t want to get anyone into trouble,” you sigh. If John suspects Mariko is playing rougher than what is demanded for some personal reason that has nothing to do with you, that could breed a whole new problem. You have enough problems. 

“As you wish. I am not sure you know this about our Jonathan yet, but politics are not his strong suit. He is the best at what he does, but the more subtle machinations of our world still escape him.”

This doesn’t come as a total surprise to you, although if you let Winston in on some of the psychological games John played with you not so long ago, the old man’s hair might have stood on end.

Or, maybe not. 

“Are you telling me it’s my job to keep him from killing everyone when the Camorra finally show for this sitdown?” 

“Well. I’m sure you’ve heard tell of what happened with Santino d’Antonio.”

“Yes.” 

“Perhaps Jonathan is in a better state of mind these days thanks to you. But I also fear what our dear boy may do, to defend you.”

Hearing anyone call your fearsome assassin John dear boy brings a little smile to your lips. You are glad that someone seems to be in his corner. You’ve gotten the impression from hearing John talk that Winston is like a father figure to him. You’re relieved it goes both ways. 

“I will keep what you’re telling me in mind.” 

“That is all I ask,” he says with a nod, standing. “And perhaps, a little break from the Trainer would do you good.”

A small laugh escapes you–you know it sounds bitter. “You give very good advice, Mr. Scott.” 

“I know I do. If only the young people around me would deign to benefit from my wealth of experience.” This is his parting shot, and you watch as he makes his exit stage left, leisurely strolling back down the hall like a king in his castle. 

***

Lounging in a warm bubbly bath–with John Wick’s solid naked body behind you, maybe makes the beatings you’ve been taking worth it. 

Ok, it’s totally fucking worth it. Nothing hurts anymore…except for when his soapy hands gently massaging your sore muscles find a bruise. There are a lot of them. 

It also helps that a few minutes ago he ran those soapy hands all over your breasts and aching center, coaxing a soul-wrenching orgasm out of you, all while talking you through it with his low voice in your ear.

He never actually asked if you’re alright, and you take that as a compliment. Maybe it’s fucked up, but you’re kinda proud of your pain tolerance–and John’s quiet approval. 

That doesn’t mean you’re capable of keeping your mouth shut about something else that’s bothering you. 

“Who is Akira Shimazu?” you ask sleepily, your head lolled back on his broad shoulder. His hands pause tellingly upon you, before resuming their soothing circuit. 

“She’s the daughter of one of my oldest friends, Koji,” he finally answers, his tone deliberately neutral. “He…was killed by the High Table, when I went to his Continental in Osaka for shelter.” 

There is a lot to unpack in that sentence. You start with the part that alarms you the most. “Wait…the High Table are allowed to break the rules of the Continental?” If those fuckers were coming, supposedly to play mediator–what good would it do, if they were not bound to follow their own rules? 

“Not usually,” he assures you. “The Marquis who was hunting me was granted…privileges.” 

“Sounds like bullshit.” 

“It was bullshit.” 

You decide this is all the information you need to connect the dots. If you were Akira Shimazu, you would probably blame John Wick for your father’s death too. And if you were Akira’s friend, and had no recourse to hurt John Wick directly–beating up his girlfriend was pretty much the next best thing. Great. 

“Why are you asking me this?” 

“Oh…just a conversation I had with Winston today.” You turn in the bath, reaching for the soap to return the favor to John, only in part to distract him. He weighs you with those dark eyes, only half believing you, or at least, sensing there’s more than what you’re telling him. You sit up straddling his lap, running your hands over his chest. His eyes slide closed, quiet for some time as you touch him. His wounds from the home invasion have healed now, his stitches out just the other day. Now they are simply slick pink flesh under your fingertips–as though it had all just been a bad dream.

These moments seem even more precious between you, now. You want to hoard them like a dragon with its pile of gold, keep them forever shining in your memory. You know what you’ll draw in your sketch journal tonight. You’ve been trying to keep up with a drawing a day, a way to pass the time, though the past week you’ve been too tired in the evening.

“Is Mariko…associated with Akira?” 

Maybe Winston doesn’t give John enough credit. 

“I think they might be friends.”

He touches a bruise on your arm with a new understanding, his dark brows drawn in a frown.

Well shit. So much for being subtle. 

“Is she hurting you on purpose?” 

“She’s…not pulling any punches. That’s ok, John. I’ve learned more this past week than in the five years I did in Tae Kwon Do.” You realize that is absolutely true. 

John’s eyes narrow as he searches out your bruises with new eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

It’s interesting to you, how it was par for the course before, but with the new information that it might be personal, it’s suddenly not ok. 

“Don’t be.” 

“I didn’t think I would be a good hand to hand combat teacher for you.”

“Why not?” you ask, not accusing, just curious. 

“Because when I put my hands on you I just want to fuck you,” he admits bluntly, raising gooseflesh all across your body, your greedy cunt suddenly clenching in insistent reminder of her state of abject emptiness...drama queen.  

 “Even…if we were fighting?”

Considering his penchant for chasing, maybe you already know the answer to that. He blows through his nose, pulling you close with those mitts for hands on your hips so that you can feel he’s hard just with the thought of it. 

He ducks to graze his teeth upon the curve of your shoulder, and your state of relaxation is starting to fly out the window again. This man. 

“Especially if we were fighting,” he admits against your ear, his voice gravely with desire. “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking you down. I’d fuck you right there on the mat, and you wouldn’t learn a thing except that you drive me wild.”

Your nipples tighten with the thought, your breath caught in your throat, and he lifts you easily in the water with that controlling grip on your hips, rubbing your now slick center against his throbbing cock. Tub sex can be tricky, but the bath water stands no chance against the suddenly raging state of your arousal. Without further ado he lifts you onto his cock, impaling you on his thick tip. The glorious glide and stretch of his girthy shaft inside you still takes your breath away, like you can feel him in your lungs, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” you squeak, winning a dark chuckle that scrambles your insides. 

“Yeah.”  

It’s the last intelligible word you manage, in the next few minutes, as he uses you just as he pleases, the water sloshing all around as he pistons inside you. It’s all you can do just to hold on, clenching tightly upon his insatiable erection the way you know makes him lose it. 

“Touch yourself for me,” he invites, though you know he’s close. You’ve reached that point in your physical relationship when you know each other’s bodies so well, your rhythms and sounds, down to the very tone of a gasp or the desperation of a thrust. 

“I don’t think I can cum again,” you admit, though you’re thoroughly enjoying him inside you. 

You really didn’t mean it as a challenge, but when he smirks at you with that certain sparkle in his anthracite eyes you just know you’re in for it. 

“Yes you can,” he insists, slowing his pace inside you, arching you back in his arms so that he can flick one of your nipples with his devilishly clever tongue. Oh. Well that’s not fair at all. You reach down to rub your clit while he fills you like this, delaying his pleasure to hit that perfect spot just past your entrance that makes you forget anything else exists in the world but you and him and the promise of a soul-snatching orgasm on the horizon.

“Give it up for me, my pretty girl,” he coaxes with his lips against your skin, and you know the snake must have sounded like that when he spoke to Eve. Tempting and forbidden and yet oh so reasonable. You’ve asked a lot from your body in the past few days. Maybe this is how you die–and what a way to go. That wonderful tingling pressure fills your hips and you moan, forgetting, again, that the other assassins down the hall probably do not want to hear more evidence that John Wick never misses. 

There are stars in your eyes and a ringing in your ears as this shining, bone-shattering release takes you. You are a ragdoll in his arms as he fills you to the hilt and bathes your cervix with the hot rush of his cum. It’s all the two of you can do, not to sink into the water and drown. With a shaky sigh you kiss his lips before melting against him, re-learning how to breathe with his arms wrapped around you, your head on his shoulder. 

He strokes your hair, whispering endearments so low you can’t really make them out, but the tone is so soothing you drift asleep for a few minutes. You only wake when he freshens the bath with more hot water, before drifting off again. 

***

Much later, when both of your faculties have returned, and your fingers have turned to prunes, he tells you, “I think we’ll give you a break. We’ll start weapons training tomorrow. That, I will handle myself.” 

This is news to you. “Here? In the hotel?”

“There’s an armory, a range, even a course.” 

“In this hotel?” 

He chuckles a little at your disbelief. “Yeah.” 

The New York Continental: anything and everything a killer could need…

And here you are, trapped amongst them with the man you love. You know this is technically John’s world, but a part of you just can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t belong here. That he shouldn’t have to be back here–it’s not fair. 

You sit up in the water, reaching for a little yellow rubber duck on the side of the tub, not meeting John’s eyes. You’re not sure where it came from; there must be some inside joke you’re not privy to…but it’s cute. 

You do feel some relief, knowing you’re not going to get beat up again tomorrow, though going through tactical firearms drills makes you more than a little nervous. You’re sure it will be different from plinking in the backyard on a Sunday with your dad and his drinking buddies. Ah, alcohol and guns–a time honored American classic.

“I feel like I’m walking out of here with my Certificate in Baddass Assassin Studies,” you say with a nervous little laugh. “What else is there? Are you going to teach me how to pinball flip someone with a muscle car? Maybe how to ride a motorcycle while swinging a katana?”

His lips twist in a smirk. “If you want, when we go home.” 

You find the thought buoys you with hope. “Will we ever get to go home?”

“Unless you really want to move to Argentina,” he needles you.

“Argentina does sound pretty bitchin’...” you tease him. 

He narrows his eyes at you; after all this time, it still gives you a thrill. “Are you sure your fascination with Argentina doesn’t stem from the good looking men who seem to live there?”

You make a raspberry at the thought. He still remembers Javi, it seems. You do too, of course, but all that feels like a distant dream in your memory. “Darling, I have all the Tall, Dark, and Handsome I can handle right here.” You place the rubber ducky on top of his head as though bestowing a crown, and he rolls his eyes before snatching you to him, water splashing all across the floor again. 

“Who’s going–to clean–that up?” you tease between kisses and giggling, suddenly drunk on his arms around you, his strong hand running down your side to squeeze your behind before long fingers quest further towards your aching center. 

“Baby, that is the least of your worries right now.”    

“I can’t!” you whine in protest as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You absolutely give yourself away with your joyful laughter that turns into a moan.

“We’ll see, cheeky girl.”  

This insatiable man really might prove the death of you. 

----

Pretty sure the rubber ducky is all on @sweetwolfcupcake …😂😘😘😘

[iouinotes]

Dark night, sweet lips | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter boys

warnings: smut, kissing, arguments (between Cole and Alex)

summary: Alex is arguing with Cole and you´re trying to make his evening better afterwards.

authors note: An anonymous person asked if I could write a scenario where the reader and Alex have (angry) sex in the car. I converted it a bit, hope it's still ok! It has taken me so long to finish writing this ff and I am relieved to finally be able to publish it…

Alex is probably the sweetest soul to walk this earth. For me, he is the most beautiful ray of sunshine, the brightest star and every spark of light that dispels the darkness.

He is my first boyfriend, but I feel it every time he smiles at me, that I will never want another man this close by my side. He is the second half of my longing soul.

The two years we have been together were the best of my life. I know that it is so often said that "love blinds you" and that the greatest heroes fell victim to love, fell so incredibly hard for it.

My love for him still blinds me every day, but I don't regret a single second of it.

He doesn't give me any reason to regret us, not when he does everything to make me happy.

He buys me my favorite sweets, gifts me books with the phrase "I thought you might like it", he kisses my forehead when I have a headache. And I just need to be quiet for a while too long and he will make me laugh until every bad thought inside my head has disappered. He cuddles me, watches movies with me, that make me cry, just to hold me in his arms and whisper to me, how much he loves me, during the credits.

Maybe some people will say it's too good to be true. That there has to be something to break through his perfect facade.

And actually there is something.

He breaks down when his feelings are hurt. If it happens, there's nothing I wouldn't do to see him happy again.

Just like now.

The reason for his anger is Cole. I know how much Alex loves his family and that deep in his heart, he sees Cole as a role model. Even if they fight each other over every little thing and throw words at each other, that will never be spoken of again.

While the first three hours of the family dinner went well, there was of course a point, that caused the good mood to change for the worse.

"Just because you didn't make it, I should skip college too? You're such an asshole, Cole." Alex's angry voice leaves an awkward silence, but only until the blond brother answers.

"I'm the asshole? I'm not leaving my family and travel to the other side of the planet!" When I meet Kathrine's gaze, I can see the desperation hidden in her eyes.

"Oxford isn't that far away, you shitty-" But his sentence is interrupted when George suddenly stands up.

"Boys, please be nice to each other! The evening was pleasant until now, stop acting like nine year olds." George's voice echoes in the room and despite the protests of the actual children, who are this age, the request doesn't help to stop the fight.

I usually stay out of the arguments, that the two brothers often have and Jackie normally does the same.

But this time we both look at each other and notice how much more tense the situation is becoming. And that every wrong word would only make their relationship worse.

"Cole, let's go upstairs. I think I left my history book with you." Her stern voice is the only thing that catches Cole's attention and when he turns his angry gaze to her, he seems conflicted of his next actions.

I also step in and gently put my arm around my boyfriend's, putting my lips close to his ear.

"Let's step outside for a moment, please." Alex's anger is also still clearly visible, but when his parents also get up to try to intervene, I manage to successfully pull Alex away from the drama.

His angry gaze softens slightly when he finally looks at me.

As we step out the front door into the cold night air and I close the door quietly behind me, Alex's unhappy voice immediately echoes trough the silence.

"He's such an idiot! Just because he couldn't go to college, he has to ruin it for me too. He's so selfish." I notice goosebumps spreading across my skin and only now realize, that I've forgotten my jacket. But I try do order my thoughts by crossing my arms over my chest, focusing on the boy in front of me.

"Alex, I know how upset you are with him right now. But he's just hurt, that his chance to leave this city and go off to college is gone. You know exactly how much the loss of football still affects him." I try to be reasonable, even though Cole's rude words about Alex's decision to go to college, makes me angry too.

"You don't understand, he said I was wasting our parents' money just to run away with it! You didn't see my mother's look when he said that." A sad feeling clinges to my heart, seeing him in such pain. I walk closer to him, gently holding his face in my hands and trying to meet his gaze.

His eyes, full of anger and despair, stare into my soul. I want to take away any sorrow from him.

"Alex, your parents know how much you love them. And that you would never do something like that. It is your future, your education and also your chance to change your life. They know how important this decision is, how important college is to you. Cole just can't handle it properly right now."

He sighs, his eyes briefly look at the dark, starry sky until the next moment, where he places his hands on mine and a small smile creeps onto his lips.

"You are wonderful, you know that? You are my heart and my mind, all combined. What would I do without you?" His words melt a part of my heart, which already belongs to him and I focus my gaze for a second too long on his lips.

As a cold breeze hits our bodies, I shiver slightly and faster than I can register, he strips off his jacket and holds it in front of me, so I can put it on.

As I slide into the sleeves and mumble a small "thank you", he quickly pulls me back to him. Wrapping his arms around my waist.

His eyes sparkle like a thousand stars.

“I just want to be alone with you right now. No arguments, nothing but you and me.” His whispering voice interrupts my many thoughts.

As I'm about to answer, a loud knock sounds behind us and I suddenly see his little brother making ridiculous faces. Laughing, I notice Alex's frustrated expression and hear him muttering under his breath.

But when I look behind him, I see the blue familiar car, leaning against the barn and an idea forms in my head. I point with my hand in this direction and confused he raises his eyebrows at me.

"What's on your mind, darling?"

Smiling as he keeps his gaze on me, I slowly drag him down the stairs by his hand. The warmth he radiates, makes me never want to let go of him again.

"Just you. Only ever you."

When we are just a step away from the car, I push some strands of hair out of my face and turn my back to him.

Waiting for him.

"Now we can be silent, if you want." He smiles at me, I see it in the corner of my eye, until he finally wraps his arms around my waist and together we walk to the car. Leaning my back against it and facing him, we laugh.

"Maybe I want to fill in the silence." I raise my eyebrows, smiling at his words.

The metal is cool, Alex's body in front of me warm. His eyes watch every expression on my face until they finally move to my blue dress. Which moves gently in the wind.

“You look wonderful tonight, so beautiful. My girl, more radiant than the night sky." His face gets closer and closer, until I feel his breath on my face.

How beautiful he looks today, black shirt, tight pants and disheveled hair. These lips that are as inviting as the look he gives me.

I feel myself trying harder and harder to breathe, he has this effect on me.

As he leans closer to me and places his hand on my cheek, I close my eyes.

He slowly leans in and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, my fingers tangle in his hair.

His hands are not idle either, they stroke the sides of my hips and grip the light blue material of my dress. Pressing myself closer to his warm body, I have to suppress a shudder.

His lips press harder against mine, I feel my heart beating so fast. My chest feeling so warm, like a sun exploded inside me.

Then his tongue strokes my bottom lip and as I open my mouth, he slides his tongue inside of it, gently pushing me against the car now.

Without being able to stop it, a soft moan escapes me, his hand that is on the back of my head moves to my chin as he pulls away from me.

I take a breathless breath, he lifts my chin slightly to meet his gaze and when I look into his eyes, I realize again how incredibly in love I am with him.

If he only knew what he was doing to me.

"Maybe we should go back inside now." Such a gentleman, always so accommodating. His thumb strokes my heated cheek and I swallow loudly as his eyes return to my lips despite his words.

"What if I don't want us to go in yet?" His eyes now look into mine, confusion swirling in his irises.

“Then what do you want, pretty?" I lean close to him, searching his gaze and breathe a single word at him.

"You." His eyes widen and when his mouth opens in surprise, I lower my hands to push his jacket off my shoulders.

His gaze doesn't leave me. I see nervousness decorating his handsome face.

"What, here? Now? But, someone might see us-" I place my finger on his lips, pulling my hand down until I intertwine mine with his.

"Then open the door." I see him swallow and as the jacket hits the ground, he seems to come back to life.

Nodding, he seems to compose himself, rummages in his trouser pocket and, luckily, pulls out the key.

As the lock is turned, he opens the door for me and I smile softly as I sit in the back seat.

As he joins me and closes the door, darkness surrounds us. As soon as his hands find my body, my heart pounds loudly.

I silently wonder if he can hear my heartbeat.

"Won't the others be curious, if we're gone too long?" My hand moves up his thigh, gently pressing on the bulge that's forming in his pants.

“Then hurry up." I pull his hand to the straps of my dress, giving him time to trace small patterns into my skin.

It's not our first time, but definitely a primary one, to be intimate somewhere else other than our beds.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom with me." I slowly push him against the back seat and sit on his lap. His hands quickly find my waist and I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I answer him breathless.

"Check my pocket." When he tries to contradict me, he stops as soon as he pulls a small bag out of the pocket of my dress.

"You're amazing, how-" but when my lips meet his, he has to swallow at my next sentence.

"I love your voice Alex, but I would love it even more if you would whisper dirty things into my ear, instead of asking why I carry a condom with me, which is obvious for many reasons. Now, please touch me." My whiny voice is enough to finally get him to move.

His hands wander under my dress and stroke the bare skin of my thighs, I press my mouth against his neck and leave kisses there.

I feel his heart racing beneath my hands as his fingers find my underwear.

"Can I-" I nod in frustration and pull his shirt over his head, his messy hair and the nervous look in his eyes making me squeeze my legs together.

"You look so good, Alex. So, so good, I need you inside me." As if he's finally deciphering the situation, a smile spreads across his face and when his hands stop moving, I want to protest.

"Shhh, I want to look at you first." I pull my lip between my teeth and feel his fingers touching my lower lip, sliding over it.

"You can look at me, while you fuck me." The shocked look in his eyes makes me pause for a moment, but then I slowly raise my hand.

Confused, he waits for my next move and when I take his hand into mine and push his thumb into my mouth, I swirl my tongue around it.

I keep my eyes on him. His fascinated expression makes my heart skip a beat.

After a few seconds he pulls his fingers out of my mouth again, I lean in further to whisper to him.

"Stretch me, please. I need something inside me." It takes him a moment to register my words and when he does, his fingers trail anlong my body. Letting the wetness wander down my arm until his hand disappears under my dress.

I have to inhale sharply when his thumb strokes my clothed core and I have to stop myself from begging him to finally do something.

When I turn my gaze to him, he is already looking at me.

As his fingers push my underwear to the side, collecting my wetness, a moan escapes my lips.

"Please-" Then his finger slowly sinks into me, I want so much more of him. The sound is dirty as his finger slides into me so easily.

"Always so polite, have you been this wet all evening? Or does my hand make you feel that good?" I nod quickly, wanting to tell him I need more. But before I can open my mouth, he lowers a second finger into me and my eyes close in pleasure.

My mouth opens slightly, a tremor running through my body as his lips meet my skin.

My cheek, my neck, then my collarbones and finally across the fabric to my chest. I put my hand on his hair, tugging at the strands as my head spins.

When he looks into my eyes, the look so sweet and mischievous at the same time, I could cum on the spot at the sight of him.

Why does this boy have to have freckles too? Shit, you'll be the death of me.

"Can you hurry up? I want-" When his fingers hit the special spot inside me, I tighten around his hand. I feel my eyebrows knit together in frustration.

"What do you want, pretty one? I thought you wanted my fingers. You have them." As I lean closer to him so we are face to face, I kiss my way down his chest.

When I look up at him, his lips part slightly.

"I'll give you some motivation to figure it out then." His fingers pull out of me, but before it annoys me too much, I lower myself to the floor and wrap my hands around his waistband.

I kiss the fabric, letting my hands roam over his stomach. I see his hands trying to hold onto the leather.

Then I break away from him and quickly help get rid of his pants, pulling down his boxer shorts as well. A short breath escapes his lips, as the cold air hits his exposed skin.

"Do you really want to-" As soon as I put my hand around his cock, he stutters.

I twist my wrist around his cock, collecting the precum at the tip, starting to move my hand up and down. His brows furrows and he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Then, without warning him, I gently wrap my lips around his head, sucking lightly as I swirl my tongue around him.

His head hits the back of the car with a grunt, his hand quickly finding its way into my hair.

I slowly sink my mouth lower, hollowing out my mouth as his loud breathing rings in the silence. He chews his lip with his teeth, then he finally gathes his strength to look at me with lustful eyes.

It only takes a few movements of my tongue for his grip on my hair to tighten.

When I realize he's about to cum, I pull my head back. When I look up at him I see his flushed cheeks.

"Why did you stop?" His lazy eyes look into mine and as his hand cups my cheek to hold my face, I feel myself dripping.

This sight, me on my knees in front of him, him with his chest heaving rapidly and his eyes wide open - he looks like an angel.

Well, a naughty angel.

I smile sweetly at him, his eyes almost automatically go to my mouth. I know how much he wants my lips around him again, but when I swing my legs over his lap, he realizes my intentions.

"Take off my clothes." He doesn't need to be told twice.

His hand wraps around my dress at my waist and when he looks at every part of my skin exposed to him, he pulls my dress up.

As I raise my arms, he helps me to take it off. Now I'm sitting only in my underwear in front of him. His hand moves over my breasts, caressing the lace bra, my sensitive nipple and I shiver as the cold air hits me.

He grins at me as his left hand finds the clip on my bra and he opens it with a click. His fingers slowly stroke my arms, goosebumps appear as he pulls the straps from my shoulders and takes off my bra.

As he maintains eye contact with me, he leans forward, I hold my hand to the back of his head as he swirls a nipple with his tongue.

I close my eyes as the feeling intensifies, his one hand resting on my hip while the other hand cups my breast. Without noticing, I lower myself onto his thighs. Trying to put pressure on my core.

But he just tightens his grip around my waist, pausing the movement as he pulls away from my chest and his fingers stroke over my stomach.

Anticipation builds in my stomach as his right hand wraps around the material of my underwear. As I lift my hips, he slowly slides the material down my legs.

As I lower myself again, his hand moves around my thighs. Our heated skin meets when there is no longer any material separating us.

As our hands connect, he brings mine closer to his mouth. Kisses the skin and makes a smile appear on my lips.

"Ready?" His quiet voice makes me nod.

His hand wraps around my waist, helping me lift myself up as he directs his cock at my entrance and we both let out a loud sigh, when we meet.

I pull my arms around his shoulders, cupping both of my hands around his face as I lower myself further onto him.

The tugging hurts slightly, but it's pleasant as he leans in, stealing my attention as he places his lips on mine.

The kiss is a mixture of our breathing, love and pleasure.

The heat that arises between us warms up the car. I see the windows fogging up out of the corner of my eye.

When my hips are right on his own, he stretches me out so much, that I feel him all the way into my stomach.

His sweet lips brush the corners of my mouth, my cheek. His hand goes around my back, trying to give me time to get used to him.

"Do you feel good?" As I rock against him and he's moaning in respone, I laugh against his skin.

"Does this answer your question?" The look he gives me, leaves me out of breath.

"God, you´re amazing." I smile to myself, slowly lowering myself back onto him. His eyes follow my movements, as his lips settle between the valley of my chest.

His breath is warm against my skin, I almost want to close my eyes, but decide against it when I meet his attentive gaze.

When I finally move, I let out a shaky breath. I need a moment to savor the feeling. To savor being so close to him.

"Do you need help, beautiful?" I nod slightly, feeling his hands wrap around my waist and helping to lift me up.

As soon as I lower myself, I murmur his name like a prayer.

"Alex-" A groan escapes me.

"I know, beautiful. You're doing so good." My hands roam from his shoulders over his bare chest, over the heated skin. As my fingers wrap around his neck to rest my forehead against his, he lifts his hips.

His hands press into my skin, surely leaving a mark for the next day, but his mumbled words draw all attention away.

The sight of his freckles look like a gorgeous work of art.

"You like that? If everyone could see you? Fuck-" He takes a sharp breath as I start moving faster. His question makes my stomach tingle.

"I just want you to see me." His mouth twists into a smile and I lower myself to steal a kiss.

"I only want you too." His lips feel warm aginst mine. His tongue traces my bottom lip and as my thighs shake, his hands roaming my back.

“Do you want to swap?” Out of breath, I just nod, wanting to finally come.

The next second, I'm lying in the back seat, a laugh escaping me as his mouth hovers over my stomach.

He leaves dizzying kisses there, my fingers stroking his wet hair. For that moment as we look at each other, there is only us.

Then he slowly kisses his way down my thighs, across my stomach, up to my chest and finally hovers over my face.

He supports himself on the armrest while my fingers stroke his cheek. As he enters me again, my eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and my mouth hangs open.

I feel his grin in the darkness.

"Stop doing that." My voice sounds slightly embarrassed between us, but a smile still creeps onto my lips at his satisfaction.

"What? I just want to make my girl feel good." I wrap my legs around his waist, connecting our bodies even closer.

"You´re so beautiful, you know that? I could stare at you all day and it still wouldn´t be enough." His hip movements are so deep, that I can feel him in my stomach.

His hands wander over every part of my body that is spread out in front of him. My mouth opens in pleasure as I feel my climax approaching.

“I want to come so bad, please- Alex, please let me come.” His mouth settles on my collarbones, leaving marks, and all I can do is moan, unable to care.

"You deserve it, you've been so good to me. Let go, you can." It's always these moments, his whispering voice, his seductive, sweet words and that look in his eyes. It's as if the world stops the moment I reach my climax with him.

The thought is the last thing I need and as his hand wraps lovingly around my cheek and he gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, I see white.

I feel so good, only hearing in the background as he lets out a long moan and comes inside me with one last thrust. I notice how he lets his weight rest lightly on me, before he grips my hips and swaps our positions.

A slight moan leaves me as he pulls out of me and with my last remaining strength, I lay my head on his heated chest. Our breaths synchronize perfectly in the next seconds and I feel deeply lovestruck.

“I love you.” His fingers stroke my temples, brushing individual, sweaty strands from my face.

“I love you more.” How wonderful these three words sound, when they are said by him.

As we lie together in the dark and the bright stars shine down on us, there is nothing more beautiful than this moment.

Well, maybe him.

[xcaptain-winterx]

Plz plz plz make part 2 of the Steve rogers x Recuit reader🙏🥺

Be a man

Steve Rogers x reader

summary: Steve is a burned chicken nugget

warnings: awkwardness, Bucky being a wingman, angst, fluff, flu, shy Steve, no cum

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc. I think I did a lot of mistakes in this fic

Part 1 Part 3

Main Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist

“How is he doing?” Sam asks as Bucky steps out of Steve’s bathroom.

“You mean because of how he embarrassed himself in front of his girl or because of the fact that he swallowed his own cum?”. Bucky leans against the wall next to Sam.

If Steve wasn’t feeling that bad and if he hadn’t witnessed, the whole thing in front of him, Sam would have laughed at the mere fact that Bucky used swallowed and cum in the same sentence. He would’ve never thought that Steve would do this kind of thing. He thought Bucky would do that to be honest, and on purpose.

“Both”.

“Not good, not in the slightest. Probably won’t ever come out of his room again. Can’t blame him though” Bucky says, giving Sam a sad smile, “I would have changed my name and moved states if that happened to me, and faked my own death for my new identity”.

Sam gives him the side eye, “sounds like you already planned this whole ‘if’ situation. Sometimes you really fucking scare me, Gandalf”.

Now it’s Buckys turn to give Sam the side eye, “Don’t call me that”.

“Why?”

“I’m not like him in the slightest?”

“Yeah, old, wrinkly, gray hair, bad posture, looking lost all the time, long hair, packed, greasy-“

“I’m not greasy, bird brain, and what do you mean with packed?”

Sam thinks for a second; he’s been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. “It means good, very good”. He can’t wait to tell Tony what he did.

Bucky turns to Sam, “so you think I’m a good guy?”.

“Definitely, a very packed guy” Sam says nodding, hiding his smug smile. He doesn’t miss the small happy expression that crosses Bucky’s face. Just as Bucky is about to say something, they hear Steve emptying his stomach again. Bucky curses and rushes into the bathroom to Steve.

He rubs Steve’s back while he is throwing up, exactly like he did back in the old days. Back when everything near Steve could make him sick.

Once he emptied his stomach, Bucky fills him a glass of water and sits down next to him on the bathroom floor. Steve’s eyes are red and teary and face pale as a ghost. He gives him a faint nod as Bucky gives him the glass.

“Slow sips” Bucky says, helping him holding the glass du to him shaking. Once Steve is done, he gives Bucky a small thanks and rests his head against the wall.

It’s silent now, no voice that echoes through the bathroom. You can only hear the faint sound of Sam’s foot tapping the floor outside the bathroom. Bucky is the first to break the silence.

“What are you feeling?”

Steve scoffs, and Bucky swears he can see his eyes water for a second. “I feel like an idiot” Steve says.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asks, helping Steve as he tries to get up. Steve looks deep into Bucky’s eyes when he finally stands. Bucky can see the clear pain in his eyes. Not only pain, but complete exhaustion.

“I was an idiot for thinking I actually had a chance with her” he whispers before pushing Bucky’s hand off him and walks out of the bathroom.

Sam was in with a confused expression, questioning what they talked about because Steve just walked away. Normally Steve is the last person to walk away from a conversation with his Bucky. He won’t say best friend because he’s obviously Steve’s best friend. 100%.

“What happened?” Sam finally asks.

“Get your running shoes” Bucky says, not giving Sam a single glance as he walks out. He leaves an even more confused Sam behind.

“Running shoes?”

Two days passes in which Steve didn’t leave his room ones. In that time Bucky had to bring Steve some food because he wouldn’t even leave his room for that. Bucky didn’t care about Steve’s reasoning that he’s a super soldier and can go days without eating. It may be true, but there is no way in hell that Bucky would let Steve ‘starve’ himself. Bucky’s mom would be proud of him for still taking care of poor Steve.

Steve appreciated Bucky for taking care of him, even though he told him to stop. He just wanted to be alone under his bedsheets, wishing he was dead.

Somehow, Steve managed to get sick. Steve, the super soldier Rogers, got sick.

It took Bucky every strength to get Steve to agree to put on some pants and go see the medic. Now he’s helping Steve walk to the med. Knowing Steve isn’t a big fan of people seeing him in such a state, especially someone specific, they take the stairs instead of the elevator.

“Sit down, pal” Bucky says, walking to the examination bed and helping him up and making sure that Steve is comfortable. Just as Steve is up on it, Bucky’s phone starts to rink.

“Hello?” Bucky asks, picking up the phone quite fast. Steve stares at Bucky, trying to listen to who it is. He’s been in his room for days, not doing anything. Seeing Bucky talking to someone on the phone is the most exciting thing he has seen in days.

“Alright” Bucky hangs up. “I need to go”

“What?”

“Sam is in trouble”

“And he called you?” Steve asks

“No, security did”

“…..what?”

“I need to go, Steve. I will come back later”

“Wait wait wait, no!” Steve begs, grabbing Bucky’s hand as he stands up “don’t leave me alone. I can’t do this without you”. Steve gives Bucky his best puppy eyes.

“It’s just the doctor, Steve”

“But what if-“ Steve gets cut off by Bucky.

“I really need to go, Steve. The faster I go the faster I will be back” he says walking out, giving no room for Steve to say something.

Steve is now alone in the med, waiting for the doctor. Hopefully Bruce.

He tries to calm his breathing, telling himself that everything is ok, that she isn’t here, then Banner will soon be here. You’re not a medic or something close to-

“Hello, Mr Rogers”

God, please no

“I heard you aren’t doing that good. What’s wrong”

No, no no no

“Mr Rogers?” you ask, putting on some gloves.

Steve snaps back to reality as you touch his shoulder. Even through the glove, he can feel the warmth of your fingers. There’s nothing more he would rather have than hold your hand in his. He imagines how he holds your hand while dancing to some soft music, any kind of music. Steve would even dance with you to heavy metal if that’s your favorite music. “Hello”.

“Hi” you say smiling at him. “How are you feeling?”.

“I uhm…I’m tired, my eyes are burning sometimes and I feel like a burned chicken nugget” Steve says. He remembers how one’s Sam told him that ‘burned chicken nugget’ means feeling warm.

Steve looks up at you and gives you a small smile. He is trying his best not to cry because of nervousness.

“A burned chicken nugget?” you ask, chuckling.

Steve blushes “y-yeah”. Hearing your sweat laugh makes him turn bright red. He just hopes you don’t notice. You likely will, though.

“Well, isn’t that a unique description” you say while writing down his symptoms. After writing it down, you take a thermometer and turn back to Steve, “please open your mouth, Mr Rogers”.

Steve does as he’s told, and you put the thermometer in his mouth. Steve uses the moment where you are not looking to take you in fully. The lab coat really suits you, so does your small bumblebee patch on the front pocket of the coat. Not only does your outfit make his heart beat faster but also your eyes. You are wearing something Steve believes to be called mascara. At least, that is what Natasha told him a few months ago, as he had to wait for her to finish her makeup before a mission.

Soon a beep tone comes from the thermometer, and you take it out of his mouth. You looked at the thermometer shocked “oh, you are hot”

“So are you” Steve says without thinking.

“What?” you surely misheard him.

“What?” Steve wants to throw himself out the window. The silence between you two screams that this is awkward. Thankfully, you just drop it and instead take your glove off and place your hand on Steve’s forehead. He’s burning up.

“I think we should perhaps draw some blood, Captain” you walk to grab everything you need while Steve already rolls his sleeve up. Only problem is that he’s wearing a sweatshirt, despite feeling like he’s on fire, and he can’t roll it far enough up. You see that and say “perhaps you should remove your sweatshirt”.

Steve is dying on the inside. The hesitation is clear on his face and you notice that.

“I mean you don’t have to, but I won’t be able to draw some blood”

You know that it’s important to draw some blood, especially from him, because a normal person would be close to dying with his temperature. He most likely isn’t because of the serum, so you aren’t panicking that much, but he is still suffering.

Steve can hear the concern as you speak and knows it’s important to draw some blood. He needs to just be a man for ones and jump over the shadow of little twink Steve. With that he takes his sweatshirt off, revealing his sweat covered bare upper body.

You stare at his chest for a bit, checking out his almost shining muscle, while making a ‘damn boy’ expression.

Steve can’t tell if you’re judging his body or if you think he looks good. He hopes you think he looks good. He stops breathing as you take your eyes off of him and prepare to draw some blood.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, immediately wanting to slap yourself as you realize you asked freaking Captain America if he’s scared of needles. “Sorry, obviously you aren’t”.

Steve chuckles. “They are nothing new to me. Had to get them a lot when I was smaller”.

“You got sick a lot?”

“All the time. I was the sick kid back then. This is the first I’ve been sick in seventy years”

“Well then, we better make sure you get better soon” you say preparing the needle. Even though Steve is not scared you still try to distract him from the needle “I heard you sketched a lot. A true artist”.

Steve smiles at that….until he realizes that you know a thing that he almost no one knows. It’s true that he likes to sketch and draw, but he does that when he’s alone. There is no way you could know that.

While Steve questions how you could possibly know that, you start to slowly push the needle into his skin. He comes back to reality when he feels your hand touch his bare arm. Surprisingly, he’s not getting hard.

He still puts a hand over his area, just to make sure.

“Yeah, I uhm did- still do”

“What do you sketch?”

“Buildings, the nature, animals, just beautiful stuff in general” he says, not telling you that you are currently his number one thing to sketch. Steve doesn’t need to see you to sketch you. You are constantly in his head, every detail of your face is tattooed in his brain.

“I always love to paint sunsets” you say.

“You paint?” he asks, kind of surprised, but also excited.

“Yeah, I used to go to art classes when I was a teenager” you say smiling, carefully pulling out the needle.

“I did too”

“Seems like we have something in common” you say, looking up at him and giving him smile.

“I guess we do” Steve says, looking down at his lap, blushing even more. As his eyes move back up, something yellow caught his eyes.

A bright yellow bumblebee bandage.

You notice him looking at his arm. “Oh, I uhm-I don’t know where the other bandages are and I always carry those with me. I know they aren’t exactly what people above the age of ten prefer, but I like to say they bring luck” you say, not looking him in the eyes. It’s at that moment that Steve realizes that he never liked someone as much as you. “I��m sorry if you don’t like it, but Dr Banner didn’t tell me where they are before he left”

“Left?” Steve asks.

“With agent Romanoff. I believe she told me they were going to Norway”.

He definitely missed a lot during his depressive episode.

“You are done” you say, giving him his sweatshirt. “The results will come in tomorrow. I will inform you once they are here, Captain. Till then I can give you something that can perhaps help you, at lest for tonight”.

Steve nods, putting his sweatshirt back on “t-thanks”

“It’s my job, Captain Rogers” you say, looking at him with a smile that he can only describe as the smile of an angel, filling his body with a warmth that he never felt before.

“I-I know, but still” Steve says, looking you deep into the eyes. He takes a deep breath. This may be his chance. “Perhaps I could repay you. W-would you like to go-“

The door slams open and Tony fucking Stark walks in.

Oh, how much he wants to throw Tony out of the window just now.

Tony stares at the both of you, raising a brow, continuing his search for something. “Am I interrupting something?” he asks.

“No, Mr Stark”

“Yes, Tony”

You look at Steve, while he stares at the floor. He feels so embarrassed as he realizes what he said. It doesn’t make it better that Tony stopped walking and is now staring at him too.

“Damn Rogers, didn’t know you-“

Steve slams the doors open and storms out. This is even more embarrassing than as he swallowed his own cum in front of you. Everything was going great. He was talking to you without stuttering like a complete idiot. He managed to not get hard while you touched him. You both were talking about something you have in common.

He wishes Banner would have checked him up, then he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself like that. Why did he have to be sick the one time Banner isn’t there? Why didn’t Bucky tell him that Banner wasn’t-.

Steve stops walking as he realizes.

“You are fucking dead, Barnes”

tag: @purple-ash27 @catluv3rrr @james-bb-1917 @bitchy-bi-trash

[themalhambird]

Aaaaaand now, for a little post-bar-late-night-chit-chat between the boys....

It should be bliss. The bed is soft, the flat is warm, and for the first time in what feels like a decade or three Charles Whiteman can go to sleep with the absolute certainty that he’s not going to wake up bombed to pieces. But he can’t sleep, because he keeps straining for the tell-tale hum of the sodding luftwaffe. He’s still bracing for the sirens to start blaring, and the streetlights fading softly through the curtains are making his chest tighten, convincing him that right now, this street is thrusting its arm up in the air yelling pick me- actively volunteering to be Hitler’s prime target. He stares up at the ceiling for another ten minutes then gives up, rolling out of bed and making for the sitting room. This television thing is smashing- stuffed to the brim with rubbish that has no right to be so mindlessly entertaining and of course, a whole lot of good looking women in short skirts. Some really short skirts. Whiteman wonders-

The thought drops dead when he takes one step through the sitting room door, going for the lightswitch before he clocks Hillinghead. The man’s sitting in the armchair nearest the window, curtains open (that damned street light) but otherwise  in complete darkness. Reading. “No wonder you need glasses,” Whiteman says. 

“Whiteman. Can you not sleep either?” 

Whiteman drops his hand from the lightswitch without flicking it on. “Too quiet,” he says. Hillinghead does that hum-snort-scoff thing of his that Whiteman figures is amusement. 

“Too loud,” he counters, turning the page. 

“Mind if I get the lamp?” It’s not escaped Whiteman’s notice that the other man finds electric lights uncomfortable, even more than they make him feel. It makes sense, Whiteman guesses. They’re bright by his standards- he doesn’t know if Hillinghead even has electric lights in his home. 

“By all means.”  

Whiteman crosses to the right hand corner of the room and grabs the metal stem of the standing lamp. It comes on with touch. Fascinating. He throws himself on to the sofa and stretches out, angling himself so that he’s looking at Hillinghead. “Do you sleep in your suits?” he says. The man is, no kidding, wearing a tie at four o’clock in the morning. 

“No, I just- get dressed if I’m leaving the bedroom.” Hilinghead closes his book and stands. For a second Whiteman thinks he’s chased the guy off, but he just says

“Tea? Coffee?”

Whiteman hides a smirk. Electric lights might get on his nerves, but electric kettles, Hillinghead really seems to like. And the abundance of tea and coffee is something that they both appreciate: for Whiteman, a combination of rationing and supply problems can make tea in particular tricky to get hold of; for Hillinghead, coffee in particular was a rarely-consumed  luxury. And, Whiteman was convinced, the man just really likes using the kettle. A bit of a weird quirk, but everything about this situation is weird. “Sure,” he says, “Whatever you’re having.” 

Hillinghead nods and leaves the room. Whiteman gets up to pilfer his book and throws himself back down, studying the cover. Lady Audley’s Secret, the front cover declares- flipping to the title page, Whiteman sees that it was first published in 1862. When Hillinghead comes back five minutes later with two mugs of steaming black tea, Whiteman waves it at him “Reminds you of home?” he asked. 

“My wife- before we were married, we were…fifteen , I believe. Her mother said she wasn’t old enough to read it so she asked me to buy her a copy and to read it to her while she sat with my mother on a Tuesday afternoon.”

“Your mum didn’t mind?”

“My mother was ill, by that time, she would be asleep on the sofa twenty minutes after Charlotte arrived, more often than not,” he pauses. “She died before we could finish the book. We both did finish it, but separately - I read it myself and then I took off the cover and rebound it with-” he breaks off abruptly, and takes a long sip of his tea, avoiding Whiteman’s eye.

“What,” Whiteman prods. “What did you do? Cut a novel sized hole in the Bible and shove it in?”

“No.”  Hillinghead takes another long sip of tea and then confesses, sounding a little embarrassed: “...it was a collection of Hymns, Psalms, and other Spiritual Poetry.” Whiteman starts to laugh. “When my father found out he whipped me so hard I still had the bruises a month later,” Hillinghead adds. “It was his book, I shouldn’t have taken it.”

“Still,” Whiteman says. “Neat trick.” There’s genuine fondness in Hillinghead’s voice when he speaks about Mrs Hillinghead. Whiteman wants to ask more about this “Arthur” Hillinghead mentioned in the pub that afternoon, but without that 21st century daylight, and without Hasan’s and Maplewood’ casual acceptance, it feels like a topic too dangerous to be broached. Whiteman doesn’t care, per say- he’s always been one to turn a blind eye, or even shoot off a quiet  warning to the odd blokes not quite being discreet enough with the eyes they’re  making at each other. But it’s not something you openly talk about, not for him and certainly not for Hillinghead. So instead he sips his own tea and says,

“When I was a nipper, my dad caught me eating the biscuits my mum had made to take to this meeting, her and her friends got together once a week and they took turns bringing the cake or whatnot.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“He helped me finish them off, then we figured out how to make more.” Whiteman grins. Hillinghead actually laughs. “We got away with it, too,” Whiteman says. “Mum said she couldn’t figure out what she’d done differently that time to make them taste so good,” Hillinghead’s laughter grows. “If I can get the stuff together, I should make them for Esther when I get back.” His good mood dims a little. “If I get back. If she’s alright when I get back. I gave her a couple of people to go to, if - if I went out one night and didn’t come back. The bombings…y’know. Rabbi Goldstein. Inspector Calloway. Either of them would look out for her- but only if she goes. It’s been hard enough convincing her to do what I say when I am around.”

“I am sorry,” Hillinghead says quietly. “If nothing else, from what you’ve said the child sounds like she has a knack for survival.”

Whiteman snorts. “She does that.” 

They both turn their attention to their tea, each  sinking into their own thoughts. But it’s a companionable kind of silence, the knowledge that the other man knows at least a little something of how he’s feeling is a comfort to each. Whiteman hasn’t told Inspector Hillinghead that his daughter’s name’s a household one in his time, that Vera Lynn, Charlie Chaplin, and Polly Hillinghead keep Britain marching on, and he wonders if he should. He wants so badly to know about Esther. But Maplewood has said they need to limit their knowledge of the future as much as possible, or their knowledge of the immediate future of their own times, at any rate, and Hasan had agreed - citing the authority of “science fiction” in general and “Doctor Who” in particular. So mum’s the word- he hasn’t even told Maplewood or Hasan. And much as he wants to, he isn’t going to attempt to try and  trace Esther. Right now, he can just about convince himself that she’s out there somewhere, an absolute rogue of an old lady with an army of  grandchildren, like his mum had always wanted to have. He’ll take Esther to meet his mum, when this is over. If he presents a sort-of grandkid, she might stop nagging him about a daughter in law. Well, a man can dream, can’t he?

…but he doesn’t, not for the rest of that night: the first he knows about falling asleep is Maplewood yanking the blanket off him. “Oi!” he complains, and then: “...where did that even come from?”

“Budge up, I want to eat my cereal and you’re hogging all the sofa space. You didn’t grab the blanket?”

“Nope.” They both look over to the armchair. Hillinghead has nodded off, a blanket of his own and his still open book held limply on his lap. “Soft touch.” Whitehead mutters affectionately. 

“Don’t wake him up!” Maplewood whisper-hisses. 

“Hey- you woke me up, yelling about your bleeding cereal,” Whiteman counters, but he makes room for her on the sofa as he says it. “So,” he says. “What’s the plan, for today?”

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Never Say Die [part 6]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | you are here

Eddie looks up at the window, the one he is expected to climb and shakes his head no. Hands crossing over his chest as Steve’s stay on his hips in that Stance that Eddie’s only going to ever be able to describe as Steve. Eddie tilts his head, giving Steve a dirty look. No words are said but it’s obvious what he’s saying.

‘There’s no fucking way’

“Steve why can’t we just go through the front door?” Eddie whines. Throwing his hands up in the air. Feeling a few of his rings digging into his skin a bit uncomfortably. He’s being dramatic, but he’s sure Hopper wouldn’t be that pissed to find out Steve was sneaking out.

“Because, Hopper nearly strangled Mike when he snuck into the house that one time.” Steve comments, no more explanation or story telling about what happened. Only causing Eddie more anxiety, which seemed to be the point of the story as he tilts his head and looks at the other dumbly. “You’re dead man, so fucking dead. Don’t worry, I’ll make some arrangements and you can be buried next to my grave.” He jokes.

Before he’s moving, jumping up and climbing the pipe with such ease that it scared Eddie a bit. How the hell anyone got that good at breaking into houses, must have made some mistakes at some point right?

“Wait- how the hell am I supposed to get up there?” Eddie hisses. Staying as silent as possibly as he glares a hole into the others head. Watching the way the others hair moved and swayed a bit as he climbed. It was a tad weird to watch, as he was so sure the other put so much product in his hair that it was to stiff to move. At that thought, Eddie doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen Steve actually put anything in his hair. Steve’s head pops out the window, looking down at him.

Old Eddie would have made some stabs about how this seemed all familiar. King looking down at his peasants and all. But that wasn’t the case. Eddie had thought he was the sheep herder of the group, finding those who were lost and bringing them together to be something more. No, standing here and looking up at Steve for the numerous time that week has made him realized that Steve was the sheep herder. Finding those who were just as lost as him and showing them it was okay to be that way, and Eddie’s ninety percent sure that is what the man is doing right now with him. And he’s even more confident that if he walks into that house, goes into Steve’s room and stays the night? That Steve has officially brought him into the group.

Steve looks down at him with a charming smile, though Eddie could also tell that the other couldn’t see him that well from all the way up there. “I’m going to go unlock the door and let you in. Just be prepared to die.” Steve laughs gently. His hair was swooping over his forehead, doing something that Eddie wasn’t sure of. But it causes his heart to go into his throat, nod his head up at the other dumbly as he also secretly coming to a agreement with himself to never allow Steve to use anything ever again. By that he means, hair gel making his hair hard and perfect in place. Eddie didn’t like perfect, he liked whatever this Steve was.

Steve moves back into the house, disappearing from Eddie’s view. Eddie moves stumbling around the house. Hands shaking as he watches the front door open. Steve’s head poking out of the frame with a soft smile, quickly grabbing the others hand and pulling him in.

It felt like a secret romance, what those obnoxiously annoying teenagers did in those movies. Eddie had been convinced that he would never have a normal experience like this. Never have something that every normal teenager would have. Sure, it’s not romantic but it was something that caused excitement to go through him. Made him feel younger then what he has been for months. With the whole being queer thing he never thought he would be welcomed into anyone’s house. Especially from someone like Steve Harrington. It was causing him to have whiplash, along with the fact that he fully accepted not being a teenager ever again after everything with the upside down.

But here he was, stumbling along behind one Steve Harrington. Heart racing as he acts like this is more then what it really was. They make it to Steve’s room safely, both of them releasing a breath as they both softly laugh together. Both of their backs pressed up against the door, as something light shifts between them. Breaking through the darkness that they have both revealed to each other- well Eddie has revealed the last few times they’ve been held in private.

Steve’s smiling brightly, seeming more boyish then what Eddie has seen him like in a long time. He forgets the others supposed to be nineteen. But the way the other carried himself it was like he was in his forty’s. Just the other night the other had been whining about getting grey hairs.

Eddie returns the smile, feeling the scar on his cheek stretch to accommodate it. Before his hand is being let go. Realization hitting Steve who’s smile becomes more crooked. As if he was trying to hide himself. Eddie stays in his spot, watching the other move into the room. Kicking his shoes off before shutting the window that was still open. It was still dark in here, but the light from outside shined in.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Eddie asks hesitantly. Watching the other glance over with his mouth partly open, breathing a bit heavy as he nods his head. Smile breaking across his face once more.

“Yeah, go ahead. Clothes are in the closet and dresser.” He hums. Moving and getting the bed situated.

Eddie listens, biting his lip as he finds a yellow sweater. Scrunching his nose up, he’s never seen the other wear it before. “Never see you wear this?” Eddie pulls it out. Watching as recognization hits Steve’s eyes at the familiar clothing.

“Hm- haven’t gotten a chance to. You can wear it if you want. Didn’t take you for a yellow kind of guy.” He teases. Eddie scoffs, looking in the closet for something else. Not finding anything as soft as the sweater he held in his hands. Groaning he gives into his brain as he moves pulling his shirt off. Tossing it to the floor. His bandages were finally off and the scaring was still healing.

Steve snorts, chuckling a little bit. Eyes on Eddie who feels a bit self conscious now as his face scrunches up in a agitated manner. About to snap at the other before the other interrupts him. Breaking Eddie’s defenses quickly, “Hm- looks like we have matching scars Munson.” Steve laughs gently. Moving and straightening his back up as he pulls his shirt up a bit. Sure enough he had similar scaring on his side. Causing Eddie’s face to blush as he looks curiously, though he catches sight of even more marks on the others skin.

He can’t help himself, pulling the sweater over his own body as he grins. “Holy shit- your scars look metal as fuck dude.” The sweater covers his eyes for a few moments, Steve coming back into his vision after a moment of seeing nothing but yellow.

This- this was another thing Eddie has noticed. The way the other curls into himself, the way he never takes his shirt off even though his wounds were healed and nothing was stopping him from swimming anymore. If Eddie had been waiting for this moment, to just give him a compliment. That was for him to know. And only him. His smile is genuine as he looks at the other man- who’s features are slowly softening around him. As if he was trusting Eddie more and more to reveal the boy that was locked far inside.

“Is- is metal a good thing? Or bad thing?” Steve asks. Confused as he looks over at Eddie. At any moment he looks like he was going to throw another layer of clothing on. Eddie smiles softly.

“It’s a good thing Stevie- now. Do you have a hair tie I can borrow?” Eddie asks. Watching the other get distracted for a moment before nodding his head and rushing out the door to return with a hair tie. Watching Eddie carefully pull his hair in a bun, before moving and throwing himself at the bed. After pulling off his, pants. Which he had done when the other was outside the room.

Eddies head lands on the pillow, taking space as Steve hesitates. Before pulling his shirt over his head. Leaving his sweatpants on as he climbs in the bed. Pulling the sheets over his body. Feeling their body’s heating each other up.

“So- king steve.” Eddie drags out. One hand gripping onto the pillow underneath his head. Smile growing as the other makes eye contact, looking suspicious as hell. “Pillow fight?” Eddie grins right as Steve’s mouth forms a no. The pillow is already out from underneath Eddie’s head and smacking Steve right in the face. His no now muffled by the pillows fabric.

Sorry about missing a few days, I graduated last night and was very busy :), though next part I plan on doing a flashback of Steve in the prison so that’s just a heads up.

Second, I’m currently working on the next chapter of bark at the moon for those who are waiting for that :) last but not least I hope you enjoyed this part.

Almost forgot, I wrote in Eddie’s point of view without thinking 😭 I hope it was still as enjoyable to read

Tag list:

@totallynotagoraphobic @flustratedcas @shunna @spookednsaucy @steddie-as-they-go @estrellami-1 @xxbottlecapx @gregre369 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thing-a-ling @radioactiveartz @bestwifehaver @idkwwhatimmdoiing @goodolefashionedloverboi @bringmethelow @thescribblerdragon @starman-jpg @lilaclilyroses @resident-gay-bitch @wolfscreations @adhdsummer @victor-thee-corvid @happymediummm @decadentworld @sidebarre @foundintheshallows @jamieweasley13 @yellowdevilkitten @catlovesfandoms @gryffindorsareidiots @thephantomhood @vampireinthesun @awkwardgravity1 @itsall-taken @gezell-igg @chaoskiro @daeb820 @liketheocean @croatoan-like-its-hot @malicia62 @thebrazilianatheist @anaibis @evix-syne666 @an-deeznutz @yikes-a-bee @0o-queendean-o0 @alyelf @starlight-archer @weirdandabsurd42 @zerokrox-blog @mightbeasleep

[didyoutrydynamite]

The Compromise

Scene: *Jaune and Lucien walking through the woods outside their home. It is just a week away from Beacon’s initiation and just before the night Jaune was going to make his escape. But things have drastically changed now that Lucien has come home early from his working trip, barged into the house not too long ago and demanded that they take a walk outside together, bringing them to now. Neither have yet to say a single word and the mood is palpably tense.*

Jaune: S-so, how was the hunting trip?

Lucien: I cut it short. While I was out there I had gotten an interesting call from an old colleague of mine. Have I ever told you about Glynda Goodwitch?

Jaune: Um, I don’t think so.

Lucien: Used to go to Beacon around the time I was a student. Even now she’s still there as a teacher. She called me because she happened to come upon your transcripts and wanted to confirm some details with me.

Jaune: Dad-

Lucien: *Holds his hand up to silence Jaune* To say I’m disappointed would be an understatement.

Jaune: *Looks down, feeling the weight of guilt hit him*

Lucien: *Continues, his tone firm* Do you have any idea what kind of position you've put me in? The position you’ve placed yourself in? Thank the Brothers it was Glynda who caught it first so I could straighten this out!! *Grumbles to himself* At least before that conniving bastard had gotten to it first. Ozpin would have snatched you up in a heartbeat.

Jaune: I’m sorry…

Lucien: You’re sorry?! What were you thinking!? What was the plan?! That you waltz into one of the most dangerous schools in the world with no training, no prior knowledge, no AURA, and walk back out a Huntsman?!

Jaune: *Voice wavering* I just... I wanted it so badly, Dad.

Lucien: Wanted what? To throw your life away?! Because this is-

Jaune: I WANTED TO BE LIKE YOU!

Lucien: *Taken aback by Jaune���s outburst, his expression softens, a mix of surprise and concern* Jaune...

Jaune: *His voice breaks* The Arcs have always been great warriors. You've always been this incredible Huntsman, this hero, and I... I'm nothing like that. I wanted to prove that I could be someone like you, that I wasn't just a failure.

Lucien: Jaune, I have never thought of you as a failure.

Jaune: Then why won’t you give me a chance?! Why do you refuse to train me!?

Lucien: It’s not that simple-

Jaune: -Why don’t you believe I can be a hero too?!

Lucien: Because you can be anything!

Jaune: *Taken aback*

Lucien: *Takes a deep breath* My father never left room for choice. Since I could walk, he placed a weapon in my hand, grooming me solely for the life of a Huntsman... And now, Jaune, I’m trapped. I have a wife and eight children, and the only way I know to provide for them is through a life of combat, never knowing if it will be the last time I see any of you again. It's not that I regret the path I've taken. It’s a job that needs doing, and if it meant finding the love of my life and having the most wonderful kids in the world, I'd make the same choices again. But there isn't a day that passes when I don't wish I could leave the Hunt for good, put down my weapon, and just live out the rest of my days safe at home with my family.

Jaune: *Quietly* Dad I didn’t know…

Lucien: *Sighs heavily, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and understanding* You couldn't have known, Jaune. I’ve done all I could to hide it. I wanted you to have choices not burdens. I won’t make the same mistakes my father did, so I want you to be able to be anything and know I still love you.

Jaune: *Silent for a long moment* Then let me do this.

Lucien: *Expression softens* There's equal honor in living as a good man as there is in being a skilled warrior, Jaune.

Jaune: Then I want to live as both.

Lucien: *Takes a long sigh, closing his eyes as he frustratingly runs his fingers through his hair.* One. Year.

Jaune: What?

Lucien: *Opens his eyes* Give me one year to shape you up. If you still want Beacon after that, I'll put in the application myself.

Jaune: Really?!

Lucien: *Raises a finger* But there are conditions.

Jaune: Name it! I’ll do anything.

Lucien: First, you have to finish high school and earn your GED.

Jaune: Of course!

Lucien: And I'm not talking about barely scraping by. I want you on the honor roll.

Jaune: A's and B's! Got it!

Lucien: Next, you have to join either a sport, a club, or some other activity this year.

Jaune: *Confused* What? Why?

Lucien: Because it builds character and life experience. Plus, whether Beacon happens or not, this is your last year to enjoy being a kid. Trust me, savor it while you can. Take this extra year to make memories with your friends and family.

Jaune: *Silent for a moment, then nods* Right. I will.

Lucien: And lastly, I'll be the one in charge of your training. Over the next year, we'll be delving into the basics to ensure you're ready. You'll follow my instructions to the letter, the way I instruct you and when I instruct you. I'll be shaping you just like my old man shaped me. Unfortunately for you - we've got only a year to nail this down. Fail my training, you can forget about Beacon entirely. Understood?

Jaune: *Gulps* Understood, sir.

Lucien: *Stern* I need you to Arc’s Promise me that you understand.

Jaune: Arc’s Promise!

Lucien: *Deeply sighs* Alright then. First things first. I need to activate your Aura.

Jaune: Wait, you can do that?

Lucien: Anyone with Aura can do it. Now, stop talking, and come here.

Jaune: *Walks up to his dad* 

Lucien: *Places a hand on his son's shoulder, then focuses* For it is in honor that we wield our swords. Through this, we become guardians of justice, defenders of the weak against the tides of injustice. Noble in purpose and unswayed by temptation, I release your soul, and by my valor, standby thee.

Jaune: *Feels the Aura flow through him, awakening something inside.* Woah…

Lucien: *Genuinely looks impressed.* Woah is right. If you got one thing going for you already, it looks like you have a hell of alot of Aura. *Softly smiles* That’ll come in handy.

Jaune: *Smiles and hugs his dad* Thanks dad.

Lucien: *Hugs his son back* You’re welcome, son. By the way, you’re grounded until school starts.

Jaune: What?!

Lucien: Consider yourself under house arrest for the rest of summer break. I’ll be damned if I did all this just for you to sneak off to Beacon anyways. Also, you committed a felony.

Jaune: Yeah, fair enough. And don’t worry dad, I won’t be going anywhere just yet. I mean, like you said it’s just one more year, what could I possibly miss?

A/N: So this is basically the new idea I've been playing around with. An Au where Jaune doesn't get into Beacon and experience Volume 1-3 with the rest of the main cast, but instead trains with his dad for the next year to prepare legitimately for the next school year. This will mostly follow Jaune's home life and training in his home village along with his family and a cast of friends and other characters around. Name is still a work in progress, but I think for now I'll call it the One Year Au.

[battorlstuff]

Story: Fall of the Jock P.4

Filling his Ego

Suddenly it's as if Jace had regained his strength, fighting and throwing insults, but instead his body seemed more weakened than ever.

Those muscles that he boasted so much had deteriorated, those abs that he kept flexing in front of the mirror were no longer even visible, instead a tender roll of fat ruined the complexion of his abdomen that now protruded a little outwards. His arms looked big, but they didn't have anywhere near the same definition and his legs and butt were quite flabby now, his pecs were turning into mobs and jiggling as Jace struggled.

"This is the last video of Jace in that chair, I think I'll move him to a couch, you know he's getting quite fat, our pig will need more space"

Despite his declining physique, Jace continued to disparagingly insult the man, calling him a fat pig, but that only made things funnier for his captor who was standing in front of Jace watching him fight. He laughed as the new flab that covered his entire body wobbled at his outburst.

The man left for a moment, leaving Jace struggling in the chair, then with a squeak the man entered dragging a large standing mirror.

"Time for Jace to see what I've done to his tight body."

"What the hell have you done to me?! No, I can't be fat! My abs, I've had abs since high school...I couldn't let you do this to me...I'm disgusting"

Jace screamed and cried as he watched his once beefy pecs jiggle like tits, while he felt the heaviness in his numb legs and watched his belly grow and bury his abs.

"Well, he didn't take it so well..." a close-up of the boy's new flaccidity from every angle, the man brought the camera closer and shook his new layer of fat, twisted and played with his nipples, gave a few spanks on his butt that It looked like jelly now. On his legs his thighs were beginning to come together and finally he gave a few good pats against his new belly, that flaccid navel, far from what used to be his hard abs, looked swollen creating a small belly, and the rolls of fat were beginning to appear hiding his old six pack, needless to say, his v-line also disappeared under the layer of fat.

There was a cut and the title appeared on the screen: "His real punishment begins, week 5 238lbs"

"An old friend has a good restaurant, and Jace will try the specialty"

A huge pot was on one side of the couch, Jace had a marker lying there at the bottom, it seemed like it was hot in the room because the boy was sweating profusely and even his captor had sweaty shirt. It only gets worse when I drag Jace near the steaming pot.

"Chili with meat and beans...I ordered the leftovers, anyway, that's what pigs eat, right?" The man takes a huge ladle, dips it, and then brings it to Jace's mouth. "Come on, try it." He doesn't wait for Jace to react, instead he shoves the wooden ladle between the boy's lips and makes him swallow a handful of beans and meat.

Impatiently, the man took a funnel and began pouring the chili through it.

"oh no buddy...I won't let you stop, you don't deserve a break"

"mmmmfd..please...too much...vomit...mmmm" Jace grunted, as his stomach swelled beyond its limits, meat falling down his torso, broth accumulating between his rolls of fat, but the man continued pouring the chili for almost ten minutes.

Then, seeing that Jace might vomit, he decided to make it slow again. Even though he still didn't want to give Jace a break, he dipped the ladle into the pot and fed Jace.

He had barely finished the first bite when the spoon was in front of his mouth again. He chewed and swallowed nonstop, but the pot was still far from finished. It seemed just as full as when he started,

Jace stopped for a moment again, trying to recover a little and fighting not to vomit. There was less than half of the chili left and his captor was waiting for that pot to finish.

"Oghghh" Jace grunted as he was forced to continue eating, his captor wouldn't give him a break, the taste of the chili was disgusting, it was clear it was leftovers from days ago, Jace's stomach growled as he continued eating, he felt cramps but the man didn't stop, delighted to see Jace's stomach grow.

"FUCK! You're too slow!" shouted at him after almost half an hour Jace was halfway through the pot and it was evident that he could no longer continue, Jace was panting and with his mouth open, saliva was dripping out along with the chili.

"Maybe you need motivation huh?" the man wasted no time in starting to masturbate Jace hard, the now ex jock had gotten used to this, he didn't need more stimulation, if his stomach was full and swollen, his dick would be hard.

Jace did not react, he was barely able to moan as he released his load, that was new, Jace took several minutes to finish shooting and his captor would make sure that all of his semen fell into the pot.

The following days the routine was repeated, the pot was emptied and the man refilled it, little by little Jace lost all trace of muscles, he went from 238 lbs to 298 and now on his "last day of chili" the man helped him walking to the scale.

Jace is weak, his legs and arms atrophied from the lack of movement, stretch marks were visible on his butt and belly, and a laugh was heard when Jace reached the scale, the video ends with Jace being masturbated once again, the man pokes his belly, spanks his deformed butt, and squeezes his new mobs, Jace had reached 316 lbs, and when he sat down again, the chair broke under the weight of the now fat boy.

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic recs (mostly nc-17; jeongcheol, minwon, verkwan, wonchan + other)

JEONGCHEOL

"is it casual now?". au. oneshot, 1.5k. r.

They had agreed on something with no strings attached four years ago.

"lightning in a bottle". oneshot, 2k. pg-13.

Jeonghan hasn’t said a word since they peeled away from the group, and he doesn’t say anything now. He looks around the waiting room, then cocks an eyebrow at Seungcheol, who is locking the door.

“Aren’t we too old for this?”

"teach me a lesson, get me where it hurts". au. oneshot, 2.5k. nc-17.

“I said we’re not dating.” He frowns sweetly. It’s almost a pout. “I never said anything about this.”

"i don't think i can stop it". oneshot, 3k. nc-17.

Seungcheol sees the Dazed covers and goes a little bit insane. (Jeonghan is along for the ride)

"a summer's harvest". historical!au: farmer!sc, prince!jh. oneshot, 3.6k. nc-17.

seungcheol is a farmer caring for the dry and hot soil of the countryside, not having anything else but his cattle to entertain. something changes when there is a rumour about the crown prince visiting their land one summer.

"why don't you do right?". historical!au: mafia boss!sc, club singer!jh. oneshot, 5k. nc-17.

As Jeonghan begins to sing, a lamp turns on at the rear table and his eyes lock with a dark, heavy-lidded gaze. So this is him, the youngest crime boss in the city; the man with the million dollar smile that closes million dollar deals; the Prince of Diamonds himself, Choi Seungcheol.

"oxygen to a flame". au. oneshot, 5.5k. nc-17.

Jeonghan spends most of his time in the lab, his brain wired to work through analytical experiments; definitely not to make a clay pot in a pottery class with an extremely hot instructor.

"the eye of the wind". historical!au, pirate!au. oneshot, 8.6k. nc-17.

‘My quartermaster tells me you’re worth your keep. That I shouldn’t throw you off my ship.’

It’s a question; he’s waiting for Jeonghan to prove his loyalty. He expects him to beg.

‘I’ve been cleaning your deck in the hot sun for almost a week, Captain. What more would you have me do?’

"sunflower, vol. 6". office!au. oneshot, 9k. pg-13.

Yoon Jeonghan is good at a lot of things. Being oblivious is at the top of that list.

"sour candy". office!au. oneshot, 11k. pg-13.

New hire Seungcheol is a nice guy. The nicest guy in the world, some would say. Somehow, Jeonghan is the only person Seungcheol is capable of hating.

MINWON

"angel baby". au. oneshot, 5k. nc-17.

On some days, Mingyu comes home to a different Wonwoo – softer, more pliant, often dressed in Mingyu’s clothes and nothing else other than a rosy flush and a mellow smile.

"wabi-sabi". omegaverse: beta!ww, alpha!mg. 17 chapters, 73k. nc-17.

Destiny has never favored Jeon Wonwoo, and he knows it never will.

He has come to accept his cruel fate, used to life's tribulations, but Kim Mingyu makes it harder for him to simply give up.

"s.o.s. d'un terrien en détresse". historical!au. 15 chapters, 129k. nc-17.

Wonwoo lives in a village that refuses to see him. One day, Mingyu opens his eyes.

VERKWAN

"down to earth". au: teacher!sk, police officer!vn. oneshot, 9k. nc-17.

No one at HQ has managed to find out just how Officer Chwe keeps such a cool head.

↳ "eyes can't shine". au: teacher!sk, police officer!vn. 3 chapters, 15k. r.

Hansol had known from the start that this arrangement was in no way sustainable. He was simply a weak, weak man.

"summer, the cicadas, and their songs". au. 4 chapters, 104k. nc-17. ♡

For as long as Seungkwan could remember, summer had always meant Hansol. Six months after they break up, they find each other again under a shared roof with their best friends – with the stars, the sun, and the cicadas to help guide them back together.

WONCHAN

"suffocate". college!au: professor!ww, student!dn. oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

Professor Jeon offers up the opportunity for extra credit.

Lee Chan takes it.

"get it (big)". college!au. oneshot, 16.5k. nc-17.

Chan chases after Wonwoo's monster dick and gets more than he bargained for.

OTHER

"twin flame". wonwoo/mingyu/seungkwan/dino. oneshot, 4.6k. nc-17.

Mingyu and Wonwoo didn't know what the night would bring when they invite Seungkwan and Chan over for dinner.

[bam-bi-buck]

911 Lonestar 5x08 SPOILERS

Don’t answer it again!

Holy shit

Said we’d find you Julio - so it’s not because he’s at his friends house - that’s what I thought because of the promo - wrong place wrong time

Dude my heart is racing

Wyatt 😭

Wooo! Get em Julio!

Why are you standing next to the tree? Somebody’s gonna be there in know it

I screamed - I knew it was coming and I still screamed

Jojo 🥺

Enzo 😭

Well I’m glad he didn��t do it because of greed but idealism

Still doesn’t help him 😭

Boarding school until he’s 18?? 🥺

Whose gonna hug him 😭😭😭

Give me a good rating or Nancy’s gonna kill me lmao

Throwing up sucks, it’s been a few years for me, I’d hate to be in a sich where it’s continuously gonna happen

Love Owen supporting Tommy 🥺

Screw the insurance company

Put em up whoever dined the claim - we fight at dawn

Dang - Carlos’s voice when he woke up

Raised by some institution - TK 🥺

He has a point (imho)

Nooo, don’t fight

But no I agree this is hard choice but

That “bye” legit took me out

My mama “ooh you in the doggy house”

Owen going to the top

I hate this man already

Owen’s gonna make this man regret everything - in this case I’m okay

“Again?”

“Can I have the room?”

“You stay”

Mama “you stay bigmouth”

Oooh this is the case that wraps everything together

Two days?!?!!

“You didn’t hear that” lmao

Carlos let that boy eat his lunch

Owen bringing the budget - hell yeah break it down!

The two belt buckles being mentioned 🤣

I don’t know how I feel about this detective after how he treated Grace but I will admit he was funny this convo

Owen’s gonna go to that budget meeting and rip it apart

👏🏻CAPTAIN👏🏻NANCY👏🏻 in the house👏🏻

Damn killed the man they were looking for

Made it right? He’s dead now, how can you get info from him?

“Can I have a word with your paramedic?”

“I think that’s a decision for your husband”

LOVE CAPTAIN NANCY

“I’m not backing down, it’s my little brother” 😭

TK 😭😭😭

The attics bleeding - ew 🤢

Omg it’s Nestor!

He may not wake up - after all that

“The better half. Be right back”

“Speaking of”

“Middle of a thing”

Oh Carlos

4 kids??!

That thing on their ties kinda bugs me ngl

Knew they were gonna do that

“Tree Killer” 🤣

Oh dang - was not expecting that

The police are helping - though tbf the 126 specifically has helped the police a LOT through this series

“Bet you feel like a big old jackass” you tell him mama!

Love that me and my ma talk to the characters like they’re gonna talk back

“Set the president or kill the president?”

Special fund for Tommy!!!

Tommy!!!

No deal?!??!

Tommy no

Tommy yes???

Holy moley!!!

Heck yes!!!

“Surrenders not in my vocabulary either” 🤣

“He was a cop but he was my friend”

“Mine too” 😭

Oh a Ranger sold out a bunch of people?

Oh Campbell?

I’m not sure I believe it

My mama was like we’re gonna see some vigilante shit lmao

PROMO

NY?

Oooh

No! Carlos!

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

mean soap….what about mean könig?

This is the ask that GOT me earlier cause a mean König would make me screech. He would be nothing like our beautiful bb boy in Rocky start, he would be intimidating af! (and something about the fact I'd never considered something like this before got meeeeee)

Warning: Smut (18+), mean König

Mean König would take every chance he could to show you how weak you are, how easily overpowerable. He would pin you up against the wall, holding your two hands in only one of his while he clasped your jaw with the other, and put that big hooded face of his right up against yours. His eyes would be aglow with all the terrible thoughts they had swirling inside them, betraying a building tornado waiting to be unleashed. He'd growl low and menacing in your ear - you could swear you feel the cool blow of ice cold breath escape through the thick material, but really its probably the shivers wracking your body - and König would be so threatning and dominating.

"You know, even for a new recruit you're really quite pathetic. You can barely keep up with the others, you're slow and you're a terrible shot. I'm beginning to think this is all you're good for," he'd rumble, inhaling your scent through the hood.

"König! Please I didn't- I didn't mean to fuck up so badly in training today, those guys were much bigger and I just couldn't get an edge on them, can't you just give me a break?"

"No. And you know why? Because you need to learn a lesson, If you don't have the will to fight in a place like this...you're going to be eaten alive."

He'd yank your wrists then and throw you out in the middle of the room, and you'd stumble on the threadbare rug, cursing the old worn thing like it was sentient. As if it were to meaningfully blame for your downfall. Then you'd do your best to regain your balance as you stumbled toward the bed, gulping as you saw König advancing toward you again, his heavyboots landing hard on the squealing wooden floors.

"König, please! Be nice to me!"

"Poor little newbie, you want me to be nice? You don't think I'm being nice now? You want to know how mean I can really get?"

You'd whimper and watch as he advanced toward you, crossing the floor in a matter of seconds and pinning you down on the ground as if you were nothing. His full weight would come down on you and angle over your prone body like a monster inspecting its kill. His chest would lay heavily over yours and his legs would be impenetrable.

It didn't matter what you did. It'd be no use. You'd moan out and try to kick out at him, but he'd crowd you so badly you'd barely be able toget a foot free. You'd struggle, man you'd wriggle so hard and get so hot you could swear there were flames licking at your sides, but there's no way König would budge. You'd scream, headbutt, shove and twist your hands and fight all you could, but he'd stay on you like concrete that had moulded into place. It'd send you crumbling. You were just as every bit small and vulnerbale as he made you out to be.

"It's a good thing you have me watching over you, Schatz," he'd whisper, eerily low. "Who knows the levels of depravity that some of the men on this base might like to go to with you? Aren't you just so lucky you have someone that wants to protect you like this?"

A noise would ring out into the room, a sharp pitiful noise. A whine. A whine of anticipation, of fear, of longing, of unknown unnease. You'd shiver and try to close your eyes, try to pretend like you didn't want the giant on top of you to ravage you and take out every bit of anger. Your body would betray you though, he'd know. He always knew.

"Why don't you just lie back and let me take control now, hm? Leave everything up to me. You've never been one for thinking, afterall."

"König!"

you'd give one last try at a protest.

But it'd be no use, he'd harden his lake blue eyes into tundras and you'd purse your lips, not wanting to dissapoint him any further.

"That's right. Just listen to me, don't think. It's what you're best at, Schatz."