#just fucking bombed in out of nowhere

[knightofleo]

I was just going to make one short trip to a certain point in Leyndell because a bird told me there was one quest in there you kinda had to do before you fight Rykard, but I, uh

think I may have gotten turned around somewhere.

[bubbled-clouds]

dies a thousand deaths

[fiercynn]

okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.

here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.

and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!

and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.

and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?

maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:

continuing to send arms to israel

putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships

bombing yemen

bombing syria

bombing iraq

vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations

testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice

refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza

halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this

lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)

questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)

perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital

questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same

honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add

or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.

and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.

[yuri-alexseygaybitch]

Israeli settlers casually fleeing back to the US or Europe or wherever they want to go really thanks to passport privilege while Palestinians are literally trapped in a giant cage waiting for the Israeli military to bomb the shit out of them highlights another power asymmetry of the Palestinian occupation: the freedom of movement, or lack thereof. Palestinians are not free to move across their own land. Everything is controlled through the most elaborate and heavily militarized borders, security checkpoints, military blockades, minefields, etc. in the world. Even if those didn't exist you can bet a Palestinian wouldn't be able to just get on a plane and go wherever they please without so much as a visa (not to mention the likely thousands of Palestinians who have been put on no fly lists due to be pure racism). When conflict breaks out they simply have nowhere to go. An Israeli can hop on a jet and fuck off back to Long Island or wherever until it simmers down.

[kelluinox]

Current mood as an anti Russia Russian jew:

- Watching western college kids spout the same propaganda you heard on channel one growing up

- Hearing chants of "Death to America" and seeing the destruction of the American flag and whispering "of course" to yourself because you know exactly where this rhetoric came from and who sponsored it

- Watching the world waste its time on a democratic country fighting back against terrorists instead of paying attention to the real evil in the world like Russia, Iran, or China, because... antisemitism is more entertaining and you guys haven't been allowed to kill jews in a while I guess

- Being frustrated by the protests because nobody exerted this much energy on Ukraine and everybody has already forgotten about Ukraine and it's so painfully obvious that you all just hate jews

- Remembering the time you sat in class and had to listen to your professor say shit like "America is the greatest evil", and "America is committing modern day colonialism through globalization and global market" and then comparing that rhetoric to that of the brainwashed western college kids'

- Being terrified of the upcoming 9th of May because you have no idea what kind of shit your country will pull on the 9th of May

- Being very familiar with Islamic fundamentalism because you live near Chechnya and for as long as you remember you have been witnessing the murder of human rights' activists, attacks on lawyers, and young women and girls trying to escape families who promised to honor kill them, mutilated them or poisoned them with medicine - some successfully crossing the border to Georgia but many more being dragged back to Chechnya from where they were hiding in Moscow and St Petersburg to their deaths

- And then watching the west pretend that there is no extremism or problems because then you will be called a bunch of names and obviously that's very scary 👍

- Realizing you have nowhere to run because the west has been thoroughly infiltrated and is digging itself a grave and hasn't stopped doing so for 8 months now

- Losing friends because they either fell for the propaganda and don't see the danger you see so clearly, or they are too cowardly to call out the mob and lose followers on social media. Even though losing followers will be the least of your fucking problems when you lose your democracy and freedoms

- Being furious 24/7 because more sane people aren't standing up, again afraid of the mob and losing their social media status

- Honestly just expecting to be bombed by now

[camomileapplesyrup]

today i got into a heated argument with two TRAs over the twoXchromosomes subreddit. i made a post about the woman-centric subreddit now being overrun with men & MRAs who harass women that share their traumatic experiences with men. from SA, to spousal abuse, women found a space where they felt safe discussing their experiences in life.

posts expressing feminist thought, traumatic experiences & general fear of men were met with downvote bombings & harassment.

men pretend to be underage girls pretending not to understand masturbation and acting they don't know how to wash "down there", asking for advice for sexual gratification of course.

men CONSTANTLY adding their two cents to posts that absolutely do not need it.

the subreddit is now uncomfortable & stifling, mods do absolutely nothing about it. so i made a lengthy post and so many women responded. over 500 comments of women responding positively, and thanking me for calling out an ongoing issue.

well, apparently i am transphobic and i am acting "sussy" with saying; “every time i come here and a woman makes a post with the most MINUSCULE feminist intent, or sharing her trauma, or difficulties in her personal experiences, it doesn't just get downvoted to oblivion, but filled up with comments of dudes adding their two cents, tone policing, making sexual & or fetish comments or "not all men"ing her. this is a woman centric community. two X chromosomes. we aren't going to make our tones softer, be gentler and tip-toe around our individual experiences to make YOU, a dude, comfortable.”

all it took was this for two TRAs to gang up on me & call me transphobic. saying this is why they don't trust cis feminists, and patronising me with expressions like "you must be so brave for calling yourself a radfem". they claimed that i cannot call myself a radical feminist because it's just bigoted towards trans women, despite me living in a 3rd world country where we don't even have working woman's shelters and proper laws against spousal abuse. "im sorry your life is hard as a woman living in a misogynistic country, but that is here nor there with regard to the terminology we're discussing" i'm sorry, what?

most of us aren't privileged enough to be libfems. i wish pink fucking girlboss they/she queen xenogender discourse was what my country could be doing, but life is not fair for everyone. if a woman here gets abused, stalked, or raped, she has nowhere to go. no phone number to call. no police to call. no prosecutor to trust in. and i went through this, personally.

by the end i had to block them, because they were derailing the conversation. but fuck, even when i literally do my best and try to be inclusive to everyone, i get spat in the fucking face.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 10

pairing: darkish!marvel ladies x fem!reader, wanda x reader, natasha x reader, kate x reader, yelena x reader, carol x reader, maria x reader

sumarry: you were kiddnapped, but a group of the mightiest herous will save your life and you can´t be more thankful

warnings: kidnapping, guns mentioned, little dark themes, kissing, touching, dirty talk, smut!!!, eating out, nickname "sir", catching somone having sex, voyeurism kinda, slight angst, wanda controlling your mind, and also reading your mind, group sex mentioned, ladies talking about planning on using you, knife play a little, little shitty writting, it takes forever to get into something, oopsies, if anything else - let me know!

word count: 7k

an: our last day! little crazy how time flies, we wont get into it or ill cry, but truly thank you for all the likes, reblogs, shares and comments! im giggling like a little girl, since few of my favs here commented or likes something soooo thank u!!!! sm!

an2: it was fun and chaotic at the same time! i love you all, stay safe and hopefully i wont dip away.:P

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this last spooky day and be safe!

You couldn´t see anything at all, the only sense you could count on right now is your hearing, which is not much of a helper. All you could hear is the engine running and some soft music playing in the front. 

You try to move, but your hands are tied together and so are your legs, trying to remeber what happened made your head hurt, so you quickly gave up on that.

After what felt like hours the car finally stopped. You open your eyes, but it is still pitch black, even when you hear someone open the doors, there is nothing in your sight. Then it hit you, you´re maybe in a box, that´s why it´s so hot and you can barely breathe here.

Trying to feel where you are is a good start and you were right, you are in a box. 

Someone opens the back of the car, and you feel that you´re finally moving, they put you down, which wasn´t the gentlest way, but since you´re tied up, these people probably don´t care about your well-being. 

"Open it," you hear an old man says. 

"Money first," this is someone else, someone who is standing right next to you, you´re still seeing pitch black and that is the most terrifying out of everything right now. Even if your try to run away, you don´t know where to, there could be fifty other guys standing there, so you´re in really shitty situation.

"No. I need to see if she´s alive and if it´s truly her." It´s the first voice again. 

"She is, now give me the money." 

What the hell is going on? They want my organs? But they wouldn´t want me alive? Or would they? Maybe they need the organs fresh, shit. My organs? 

Your overthinking is making your heart beat faster, than if you would run a marathon now. 

But is it really overthinking if this is the most possible outcome of this... deal? 

"I want to see her. I won´t give you shit, if I´ll found her dead inside the box." The man is clearly mad now. 

You can hear someone else coming, it sounds like a motorcycle. "Oh so you brought backup?" 

"Me? Stop fucking playing around." You can hear that both of them are unease, their voices are filled with anger and it´s just a question of time, when they will explode like a bomb. You´re hoping you won´t be the center of catastrophe. 

The motorcycle stops and you can hear someone re-load a gun. 

A gun? Holy shit. 

"Oh come on boys? What do you think you´re doing here, hm?" You can hear a woman speaking, her voice has a hint of smokiness and a certain level of strength, making it both captivating and commanding. It's a voice that demands attention and conveys a sense of experience and resilience. You could bet your life that you already heard this voice somewhere. 

You don´t really know what´s goining on, but you feel like they´re just pointing guns at eachother, at least that´s what you´ve imagined.

The lady chuckles. "You are all surronded, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide," it was a quiet for a little bit, after she starts to speak again, "I wouldn´t done that if I was you, see the red dots? Yeah I have backup. And yours? Already arested," she adds. 

Arested? Oh she´s from the police! Police! Yes! 

You can hear how someone is walking closer to you, but from a totally different way then you heard the people talk before. But that is the last think you think of, before you completly pass out. 

... 

Beep, beep, beep. 

Is all you can hear, before you can even open your eyes. You take a few deep breaths and with that, you slowly open them. The light isn´t as sharp as you thought it´s gonna be, so you blink a few times and your already adjusted to being awake.

Looking around give you an answer where you are, the hospital. All of your clothes are on the chair, packed in a plastic bag. So it must have ended good, the lady arested the bad guys and now you´re in the hospital, which isn´t your favorite place, but hey, you could be in a coffin now, so you see it as a win. 

You don´t even feel in pain, maybe you´re head hurt a little bit, but you´re used to it. You slowly trace your hand all over your body, but you think you´re all good. 

A person coming into your room pulls you out of your thoughts, as you look up at them, you notice is The Natasha Romanoff. One of The Avengers. One of the coolest people in the whole world! 

Your eyes widen at her standing next to you with a little smile on her face. "You´re finally awake, how are you feeling?" her voice was so soothing, you feel like she could bring you from dead if that was the case. 

As you observe Natasha´s outfit, you can't help but be drawn to her effortlessly cool and edgy style. She's wearing sleek, form-fitting black pants that hug her curves perfectly, adding a touch of boldness to her overall look. The pants highlight her long, lean legs, accentuating her confidence. Her choice of a white tank top underneath the black leather jacket is simple, it shows you just enough of her abs to let you know, that she could kill with them. 

"I- uh good. Great. Amazing." She chuckles at your answer. 

"So I assume the pills are working." She nods her head and sits on your bed. 

"Meds?" A noticable confusion is written on your face and Natasha speaks right away, to ease your nerves. 

"How much do you remeber, (Y/N)?" Natasha puts her hand on your forehead to check if you have a fever. 

"Um... I remeber being in a box and being scared," Natasha hums, "I also remeber having my hands and legs tied and I- uh remeber and then I just..." you shrug. 

"Okay." She nods again. "You don´t have to worry now, we took care of them and you´re safe." Natasha gives you a smile, that did make you feel way better. You knew she was a badass and pretty too, but in person? 

She´s stunning, how can someone be this perfect? Like it is not fair. 

"Althrough..." she sighs. 

"What? Althrough what?" 

"We´re not sure if they worked alone and knowing your status, we can´t risk you getting hurt again." She adds. 

"My status? I´m sorry, I have zero idea what you´re talking about." If you were confused before, then you don´t know what you are now. 

"Oh, detka. They did numbers on you." You could see the concern in her face. 

Numbers? On me? What?

"You were missing for few months and when me and the rest of the team found you.. you were unconsious. That was 2 weeks ago, we weren´t sure if you´ll wake up. But you did and that´s amazing news, but we need to make sure, that you are safe." Natasha takes your hand in hers. 

After that Natasha left you alone and you were trying to piece the things together, but everytime you tried, you got horrible headache. 

What status? Who- what? 

... 

During the first week, it was only Natasha who came to visit you. Each time you inquired about leaving the hospital room, she staunchly insisted that you should stay and rest. Even though you expressed your boredom and eagerness to step out of the room multiple times, assuring her that you felt better, she stood unwaveringly by her belief that you needed the rest after everything you had been through. 

She visited you everyday and you realized how sweet The Black Widow actually is and how much comfort she brings you in those confusing times. But you couldn´t help, but notice what her slight touches make you feel. Touching your forehead to make sure, you don´t have a fever. Touching your hand to get your attention or just putting your fallen hair behind your ear. 

She brushes your hair every morning, reads to you, she even brought you a coloring book, which always brought you some sense of comfrot. And if Natasha wouldn´t be the one who brought it out, you would completly forget that something as kidnapping has happened to you. 

... 

This morning Natasha is not alone, she softly knocks three times as she did each morning and then slowly walks in with another person behind her. 

"(Y/N), this is-" You cut Natasha off. 

"Wanda Maximoff!" You basically yell. "S-sorry, I just... I know who you are." You sligthly blush at the two women in front of you. 

Wanda chuckles. "That´s me. Pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)." She comes closer and shakes your hand, her hand felt incredibly soft, like a gentle caress of silk against the skin, inviting warmth and comfort. 

"You don´t know what happened to you, but you remeber all of our names?" Natasha laughs as she teases. 

"I mean..." you shrug. "You are The Avnegrs! So of course I know who you are." You look away from Natasha´s gaze. 

"Sorry, that was a stupid joke." Natasha put few fallen pieces behind your ear and smiles at you. 

"No, no. It´s fine, you had a great point there." You smile back at her.  The readhead nods. "I brought Wanda, becuase she will take care of you now, for few days, before the doctors will release you." Nat smiles. 

"Oh really? When I´m going home?" You were so glad you´ll be home soon. 

Wanda just send a quick eyebrow raise to Nat. 

"What?" You look between the two women in the room. 

"Detka, you will be released from the hospital wing, but we still can´t promise there won´t be anyone waiting for you outside, so we decided that you will spend some time here, in the compound." 

"Oh." Natasha´s words caught you off guard as you really don´t know what to feel now. You couldn't help but blush and feel a bit shy as you heard Natasha call you by that nickname, but at the same time her words made you a little sad, you still have to kinda locked up.. 

Wanda notices right away, without having to read your thoughts, that you weren´t really sure about this scenario. "But I promise I´m way more fun, than boring Tasha. We can read, play games and after you´ll be on your legs we can bake, cook, I can teach you how to play guitar and many more exiting things!" You smile, that does sound good, but what about all of your clothes and... other stuff you had to have, before that incident. 

"We can go shopping too!" Natasha sends Wanda a quick glare as a warning. 

"Well... better to be bored than dead, right?" You chuckle, but none of them even smiled at your joke, which was incredibly embarrassing. 

"Don´t joke about that, detka." It was the first time you saw Natasha actually mad. 

... 

You are finally off the hospital wing, Doctor Cho told you that you need to rest and if there is anything wrong, you can call her asap. At the end she is working for the Avengers and getting calls in the middle of the night isn´t something unusual. 

Being a week with Wanda was so fun, she told you all the stories from her life, you watched many sitcoms together and her cooking skills are amazing! Anything she cooked for you, you crave for some more. You´re really positive about her putting some drug in the deserts, because everything was just so good and addicting, it´s not even possible. 

You two also spent hours on online websites shopping, for your new clothes, boots and everything you needed. Wanda payed for everything of course. Even though she told you, "Don´t worry about it," you still feel bad for spending so much of her money. 

You´re currently waiting for Wanda, to walk with you to the main room, for you to meet the rest of the team. You were very nervous, but if Nat and Wanda were so nice to you and made sure you were safe all the time, you believe that the rest of the team is the same. 

"There she is!" Wanda comes to you, hugging you closly. Like any other day, she was warm and you feel even better. 

"Here I am. But I can take it-" You say as Wanda grabs the one plastic bag with your stuff. 

"None of that, malysh. You need to rest." 

"This weights basically zero zero nothing, I could-" You met Wanda´s eyes, "thank you for taking my bag." You smile. 

"That´s what I´ve thought, malyshka." These nicknames will kill you, sooner or later.  The two of you went to the living room, which was a two floors above you. The ride in the elevator was quiet and comfrotable. 

Bing. 

Wanda immedietly links your hands with yours, which you don´t mind it at all, it´s actually calming your nerves and she knows it very well. There is no need to read your mind, your body is speaking for you this time, with your relaxed posture and the little adorable smile on your face. 

"They are nice, but little... hectic and full of energy. If anything, let me know and we can go to the bedroom." Wanda smiles. 

"Thank you, WanWan," you smile back, if her and Nat can give you nicknames, you will think of something too. "I think I can manage, um... will Nat be there?"

Wanda smiles at her new nickname and then shakes her head, "Natasha is coming later tonight, you know, Avengers stuff." You simpy nod. 

You could hear the other teammates right away, but you hear only women´s voices. You were honestly glad. Not like you don´t like the male Avengers, but... they are still males, so you already felt more comfortable knowing there are only bunch of ladies. 

Wanda opens the door for you and walks right behind you. "Ladies, I´d like you to meet someone, someone very special, so please don´t attack her with questions or any other... things." She giggles and you look around and you feel like in a dream. 

Carol Danvers, Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova, and Maria Hill are all seated on a comfortable, oversized sofa, while Wanda still stands beside you. 

"Hai," you whisper as you awkwardly put your hand up in some sort of a wave. 

All you could hear was all sorts of greetings, "Hi! Hello! Oh finally, hey!..." The sudden outpour of warmth takes you by surprise, and you can't help but blush and offer a shy smile in response to their overwhelming hospitality. 

"Easy, ladies!" Wanda quickly says. 

"Move, Maximoff." The Captain Marvel herself says as she stands up. 

"No. All of you are like a bunch of hawks and (Y/N) is tiny, not a chance I will leave her all alone in this." Wanda grips your hand tighter. 

You blush as you look at Carol. 

"Im Carol, nice to meet you, (Y/N)." She smirks at you. 

"I- I know... and you are Maria, Kate, Yelena," you smile as you point at each of them. 

Wanda giggles. "She is our big fan," she explains. 

"Ohh, is she?" Maria finally speak, "do you kow the rest of the ladies?" 

"The rest?" You look at her, not knowing, who is the rest. "You´re living here with everyone? Like everyone? Where are the guys?" you obviously have many question. 

"Most of us do, but sometimes there is a mission of world so-" Carol is cut off by Maria. 

"Don´t start with this bulshit, Danvers. Like you´re something special, just because you can travel to space..." The brown haired girl rolls her eyes. 

"I didn´t say I´m special, you did." Carol winks at her.  Wanda leans closer to you and whisper right into your ear. "This is a daily basis on here, you´ll get used to it," she giggles and so did you. 

"To answer your quiestion fully," Kate clears her throat, "all the ladies live here, all of us got room and it´s just like a never ending sleepover." Kate chuckles, she is probably the same age as you, or little older, which makes you feel better around everyone. 

"And no. There are no guys. Is that a bad thing?" Yelena says without zero emotion in her voice. 

"No! No, no, no! I mean I bet they are great, but I´m into girls. I mean... as a fact, I think you guys," you point at them, "just do it better. Way badass, smarter, faster, everything is just waaay better, you know?" you tried to save youself, but it didn´t work at all. Even Yelena has a slight smirk on her face. 

"You were right, Maximoff. She is cute." Yelena nods towards you and Wanda. 

"So you´re into ladies?" Kate smiles. 

"No, yes. I mean yes, but I didn´t mean it like that in the previous context," you answer her. 

"What was the context then?" Now it was Wanda speaking right into your ear. 

You are quiet for a second and then just shrug, "I guess i didn´t want to talk shit about the male Avengers." you chuckle. 

"Don´t worry, we won´t tell them." Kate laughs. 

"Well... if you know a lots of things about us, isn´t it fair for us to know little something about you too?" Carol sits on a couch next to Maria. 

"Go sit, malysh, I´ll bring you something to drink." Wanda sligtly pushes you towards the couch, when her hand leave your lower back, you already miss her touch. 

You sit between Kate and Carol, while Maria stares at you with a slight smirk. So you quickly look at the youngest Avenger, and you can already tell, that she´s really exited to talk to you and get to know you better. 

You sit nervously between Carol and Kate, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the attention. Carol leans back confidently, a smirk on her face. "So, what's your thing, hobbies, what´s your favorite food?" 

"Um, well, I like uh, reading. And I enjoy cooking as well." 

Kate is like a exited pupppy. "That's cool! Any favorite books? Oh, and, do you have a go-to pizza topping?" 

Wanda comes back with the water and place it on the table, giving Kate a stern look, "easy Bishop," then she sits on the chair right in front of you. 

"I love reading fantasy novels. And, for pizza, I'm a sucker for pepperoni." 

Maria and Yelena, watching you, listen intently, their interest evident in their expressions. 

Carol smiles, "That's awesome. We should have a cooking night together sometime. What do you say?" 

You and Wanda make eye contact "Well... I already planned that with Wanda, so..." 

"Oh really, Maximoff? We´re already calling dibs? That is not fair." Carol rolls her eyes. 

"Or all of us can cook together?" You smile at Carol. 

"Carol in the kitchen is the worst way of dying, so it´s a no for me." Yelena mumbles and leaves the room, Maria following closely behind. "Agreed."

"I can teach you! The simple things are not that hard, right Wanda?" 

The girl infront of you just sighs and nods, "Sadly it´s not." 

"Oh come on, don´t be so harsh on her, I bet it´s not that terrible... right?" You feel more and more comfortable with all the ladies around you. 

... 

"It´s not that terrible, right?" Wanda mocks you as you see flour flying, ingredients get mixed up, and the result is far from what the recipe intended. 

Wanda and Kate exchange amused glances, but they both maintain their composure, trying not to laugh. You, though, can't help but chuckle, as you didn't expect this level of chaos in the kitchen. 

Carol, with a sheepish grin, looks at her culinary creation. "I promise, I'm better at saving the world than making food." 

"You better be, Danvers." Wanda smirks as she smacks her dirty hand on Carol´s ass, leaving a white mark on her black sweatpants. 

"Oh you´re so in, Maximoff!" Carol turns around and runs for her, to get her revange. 

You and Kate burst into laughter, all in good spirits. Despite the kitchen disaster, the shared experience brings the group closer together. 

You jump on the messy kitchen counter, smiling from ear to ear. "That was... fun." 

Kate nods and turns to look at you, "yup." She moves closer to you and touch your nose with her finger from... butter? You guess. "But at least now you see why is Wanda doing all the cooking. Sometimes Nat, but mostly our witchy." Kate is being very close to you know, her hands resting on your thighs. 

"Fair point." You look down and blush, "maybe we should start cleaning?" 

Kate shakes her head, "Wanda does a little poof and everything is clean, don´t worry about that." 

"If Wanda survives." You point out. 

"True." Kate chuckles. 

"You have very blue eyes." You don´t know where this comment came from. 

"I do, yeah. And you have very y/e/c eyes, (Y/N)." Kate is now whispering. 

Nodding your head seem like the only good idea, since you don´t trust your voice at the moment. 

"Would you like me to show you around and maybe later show you my room?" Kate asks, while staring at you. 

"Oh are you flirting, Kate Bishop?" You roll your eyes at her. 

She tilts her head, "what? You have such a dirty mind, miss (Y/N). I am not flirting with you, you would notice if I would." She squeezes your thighs and step away from you, "you going or what?" She smirks at you. 

And with the most dramatic groan you jump off the counter and follow her through the compound. 

... 

After Kate showed you around, you were positive that you need a map, because there is no way you would remeber all the catacombs and shortcuts. No way. 

And final stop, Kate´s floor. Warm, soft light streams into the room from a string of fairy lights above the windows, creating a cosy atmosphere. In one corner, a leather chair and a sleek, modern desk scattered with papers from her most recent missions indicate her dedication as a superhero. A collection of classic bass guitars in another corner, all neatly organized. Her two worlds—the life of an skilled archer and the spirit of adventure of a young hero—combine in balance in the room. 

"Oh my god- it´s so cozy in here!" You smile as you look around, seeing all the bows and special arrows on the wall. "Wow," you mumble as your hand wants to touch her black bow with silver ornaments on it, "may I?" 

"Go ahead, I don´t use these." She smiles. 

Your finger traces those shapes up and down, but your attention switches into something else, many pictures on the wall made you giggle out loud, "No way! You have Halloween nights here?!" You look at a few pictures on the wall, but one catches your eye right away.  

As you gaze at the Halloween picture, you can't help but smile at the fun and creativity captured in the snapshot. In the center, Kate Bishop stands proudly, dressed as a demon, her costume is complete with horns, pitchfork, and an impish grin that perfectly matches her cocky spirit. 

To her left, Maria Hill is a regal Queen of Hearts, her costume rich in detail, from the heart-adorned scepter to the ornate, card-themed headdress, giving her an air of authority with a playful twist. That she has even without this costume. 

Beside Maria, Natasha Romanoff stands as the Queen of Spades, her costume exuding an air of confidence. Her attire is a perfect blend of elegance and danger, with a spade symbol adorning her crown. And of course, her one and only iconic smirk. 

Wanda Maximoff, on the other hand, adds a touch of the Wild West to the group as she confidently portrays a cowboy. Her fringe-trimmed jacket, wide-brimmed hat, and toy six-shooter holster create a vibrant, yee-haw Western charm. 

Carol Danvers, in contrast, takes on a divine role, embodying a goddess with her shimmering costume and ethereal accessories. Around her waist, a gilded belt cinches the gown, emphasizing her muscle figure. It is adorned with intricate patterns and symbols that hint at ancient mysticism. Her accessories are no less impressive – a tiara with sparkling gemstones graces her brow, and her wrist cuffs shimmer with a radiant energy. 

Finally, Yelena Belova channels her inner child (kinda) as she steps into the shoes of Lara Croft. Her outfit mimics the iconic video game character's attire, complete with dual holstered pistols, a utility belt. 

"You thought we´re boring or what?" Kate walks up behind you.

"A little bit." You admit, "but this looks so fun! I´m quite upset I´ve missed that." 

"Don´t worry, you´ll get an opportunity. But I´ll bite, what would you dress up as?" Kate voice sending shivers down your spine. 

"Hm..." you turn around, "I take Halloween very seriously, so..." you try to think. "Well since Wanda was a cowboy, I would go as a reversed cowboy. You know, put a little UNO reverse card on my head. It´s funny and also good effort." You giggle. 

"Oh, sweet sweet (Y/N), you´re wilder than I thought," Kate chuckles, "I like that idea, now I´m quite upset too, you would be such a fun to our little party." She winks. 

You´re stomach feels like it´s filled with butterflies, that are trying to get into your whole body. 

"You feel my flirting, huh?" Kate smirks again. 

"Oh shush, I don´t want to boost your ego." You want to turn around, but Kate grabs you by your waist. 

"You don´t need to, pretty girl." 

"Kate..." You´re glancing at her lips, then back into her blue eyes and then back on her lips. 

"Hm?" Kate knows and you know that she knows and that makes you even more frustrated. 

"I- I don´t know what to s-" you barely whisper. 

"Then don´t say anything, I´ve got you. It´s all good, you´re safe with me here, okay?" Kate whispers and with you nodding your head, Kate leans in and your lips connect. Her lips are incredibly soft. Second ego, you were shy around the archer, but now, you want more, you crave more. She´s holding your hips, her strong grip making you feel secured and that´s all it matters now. 

As you found yourself captivated by the enchanting presence of the Bishop girl, it was a moment of shared intimacy, and none among you were present enough to recognize the subtle observe of the Witch and Captain. The door had been unintentionally left ajar, providing an unanticipated point for the two observers. From their concealed perch, they had a front-row seat to the scene. This unintentional voyeurism presented a silent spectacle that would be etched in the memory of all involved, forever preserving that delicate moment. 

"Really? Bishop is the first one?" Carol whispers, and Wanda gazes at her with a mix of understanding and frustration. She senses the storm in Carol, and it resonates with her because she feels the same emotions. Deep inside, Wanda hoped she would be the first to share that intimate moment with you. She had been so close, with Natasha temporarily away, but fate had other plans, and Kate Bishop claimed the coveted position first.

"Look, Carol, she´s really into it." Wanda´s jealous thought disappears, as she sees you pulling Kate closer and slightly biting her lip. 

"How many weeks did Natasha said to wait? 8-9? And we will discuss it? I knew it was bulshit." Carol chuckles. 

Wanda smirks and takes a picture of you and Kate making out, sending it straight to Natasha, with a message on it 'What if our new plaything is not waiting?' 

After literally 5 seconds, Wanda´s phone lit up with a new message from Natasha, 'omw.' 

... 

After your pretty heavy make out session with Kate, everything was different around the compound. Kate was by your side almost every minute and the other girls were as well. Everyone but Natasha. You didn't know if you did something wrong or if she had just a lot of avenger's work, but you wanted her attention. 

“I wouldn't go there, right now.” Maria says as she somehow appears right behind you. 

You were just about to knock on Natasha´s door to her office. Due to Maria, you pull your hand away, “why?” 

“She´s just not in the right mood now.” The agent explains. 

“Well, me neither, so-” you turn around and knock three times. 

“You´re really stubborn, huh?” Maria chuckles and turns around, walking away. 

“I already told you that I don´t have the time for your-” you hear behind the door, until the door opened, “oh, it´s you.” Natasha´s voice went from raspy angry spy to nice Natty, who used to brush your hair every morning, when you have been in the hospital wing. 

“It´s me.” You smile a little and without another word you step inside her office. 

Natasha watches you; she tilts her head waiting for your next move. 

“I kinda invited myself, sorry. But I have a question.” You give her office a quick glance, nothing original, just a big modern office, with lots of paperwork everywhere.  

The view is special though, you can take in the lush expanse of the garden, every detail from the blooming flowers to the trees. And beyond the garden's beauty, the panorama stretches out to reveal the entire cityscape. Skyscrapers rise majestically, their windows reflecting the sunlight, while the urban landscape sprawls in all directions.    “I´m listening.” The redhead closes the door. 

“Did I do something wrong? Or... like why don’t we talk anymore? You barely look at me when you come into the room, I just- did I do something wrong? I know you have a lot of work because the people who tried to... you know, but uh- like what's going on, Natty?” The nickname slips out and you don’t even notice, but Natasha did, she always notices those small details. 

You can hear her sigh, that´s never a good sign. 

Shit. 

“Detka, sit.” She nods towards the chair in her office, and you quickly did so. “It´s not like I don’t want to talk to you, I do. But I just thought that you´re already taken and I do not mess into someone else's business.” That was a lie, another one, that you can´t catch on. 

“What do you mean?” You quickly mumble, feeling like a kid who did something bad, since Natasha is standing above you now. 

“You and Kate.”  

“We- we uh are not dating, if that’s what you're asking.” You blush. 

“I'm not asking, (Y/N). But I would appreciate if next time you would be honest with me.” Natasha turns around. 

“But I am! We are not dating, we- are just friends.”  

“Friends?” Natasha turns back to face you, looking down at her phone scrolling, trying to find a picture that Wanda send to her. “Is this what friends do?”  

Shit, where did she get the picture?! 

“I-” you can't find any words that would help. You feel horrible, even though you didn’t do anything wrong, or did you? 

“I need to work now, to keep you safe, remember? So... if that´s all, see you at dinner.” Natasha looks sad, incredibly sad in fact. She opens the door for you and without anything else you leave. 

After few minutes of standing behind Natasha´s door, you decided that you need to blow off some steam and the Avengers compound has everything, so some boxing and sauna after don´t sound like a bad idea at all. Even though you had a boxing class like once in your life, you´ll manage, at least that´s what you hope. 

… 

It was not actually that bad, you feel exhausted, but also little better, hoping that sauna will do the rest of the magic.  

What you didn’t know is that you're not the only one craving to ease your nerves there. 

As you open the door you see quite a pleasing sign in front of you, Carol Danvers eating out Wanda right in the sauna, where you wanted to rest. You are like a deer caught in the lights, before you can say anything, the witch notices you and smirk. 

“We have an audience, Captain,” she whispers between her moans. 

Carol turns her head, and her eyes meet yours, “wanna join?” the blonde one chuckles as Wanda slaps her hand playfully. 

You don´t answer, you´re too occupied staring at Carol´s well-defined arms, you can see her veins, which switch something inside you. 

“Earth to (Y/N),” Wanda chuckles, “would you like to finish me, malyska?” 

“N-no, sorry! Shit! I didn´t know that- you uh- it will be occupied!” and with that you run away. 

“She was staring at you.” 

“She was basically drooling.”  

“Oh please! Don't let it get to your head! 

“Do you want to cum or not?” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“Then shut your pretty mouth.” Carol smirks as she dives back into the witch´s sensitive spot. 

… 

“I didn’t know Carol and Wanda are dating,” you sip from your newly opened water bottle. 

“Um... they are not.” Kate looks at you. 

“I´m pretty sure they are,” small giggle is escaping your mouth. 

“How so?” The taller girl tilts her head, “I´ll bite.” 

“I found them in the sauna together!” You look at Kate, “and they were... you know...” 

“Naked? Well that´s usually the scenario in the sauna, (Y/N).” She laughs. 

“I mean yeah they were naked, but they were... being close, intimate!” 

Kate is obviously not catching what you're trying to say. 

“They were fucking, Bishop.” Yelena says as she enters the kitchen. “Carol has pretty high sex drive since she´s ‘off planet’ most of the time.”  

“Oooh!” Kate says as she understands you now, but she does not look shocked. 

“So, they are like friends with benefits kind of a thing?”  

“If you want to label it, then I guess.” Yelena shrugs and you blush, imagining what you have seen earlier. 

Carol and Wanda then enter the kitchen as well, you don´t dare to look into their eyes, but you can feel that they are staring at you. You can bet anything in the world that they are also smirking. “What´s for dinner? I'm kinda hungry.” Captain Carol says. 

“You´ve just ate, Danvers!” Kate says it in a teasing way, which makes Wanda giggle and Yelena smirk. 

“But I would still eat some more, what do you say Bishop, you up for it?” the blonde one tilts her head. But even the chuckle she lets out sounds like she means it. 

You are too stunned to speak or even move a little. You see Natasha and Maria coming to the kitchen as well, hoping one of them will save you from blushing and slowly melting away. The trained spy notices your shy behavior right away. “What did you do to our little one?”  

It´s like she pushes the small ‘argument’ you had away when she sees you struggling.  

“Nothing!” Wanda says. 

“Yet.” Carol ads. 

“She just caught Danvers and Maximoff fucking in the sauna.” Yelena explains. 

You instantly want to leave the room, not that you would be uncomfortable, but you can feel yourself getting too excited, just being with these women in one room is too much to handle, talking about sex? Seeing them have sex? You´re questioning how are you still alive. 

“Detka...” Natasha starts, all eyes are on you right now. 

“Hm?” Is all you can menage to let out, hoping it would satisfy all of them, but you´re wrong, shockingly, right? The Black Widow clears her throat, and your body automatically makes you look up at her. “I didn´t meant to, I just... wanted to use the sauna and Carol with Wanda were just there um-”  

“If I clearly remember Wanda and I were both inviting you, so I don’t see the issue here.” Carol smirks at Wanda. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks, hoping it will calm you down. 

“There was a moment that I thought you would join us, malysh. And I think that you do too, am I right?” The witch knows exactly what your thoughts were about, she´s pushing you to just admit it. 

“Um- no! No, not at all. No. I was- definitely not.” you shake your head more than you should, but you can´t help it. Trying to make it more believable, but you're failing, miserably. “Not that I think you don´t look great, you do! Your bodies were- are phenomenal! But uh-” 

You are cut off by Wanda slapping Carols hand, “I told you she was staring.” 

“And I told you, she was drooling,” Carol sends you a wink and you quickly look away from her. 

“Okay, ladies. Give her a second and you,” Natasha locks eyes with you, “how about we move to couch, you will sit down and take a few deep breaths, alright detka?” The redhead smiles at you as her soft hand touches you, leading you to the living room. You can just nod, but you're happy, because Natasha doesn’t look mad or upset anymore, actually there is this look in her eyes, you can´t quite point a finger what it means, but her eyes kind of shifted somehow. 

After a few minutes of Natasha saying sweet nothings, you calm down a bit, she whispers, “It´s okay to look, you know. No need to feel shy about it. Honestly, we all do appreciate a good compliment, especially from a pretty girl like you, (Y/N).” And there it is again; your cheeks are flushed, and your heart is beating fast again. 

“How about we all help? To make you feel better, that is what you want right?” Wanda comes in, her hands slowly massaging your stiff shoulders.  

“I- I don’t want to bother you, or like-” you stutter out, your mind being a little fuzzy, you just feel tingles all around you, in you, everywhere. 

“Shhh, we promised we will help you out, so just let us.” Wanda whispers in your ear. 

“Or not and we will find our way.” Maria finally speaks. “Besides, it would not be fair, Kate already had her time with you, and we all are good friends, we share things. That´s just how it works here.”  

You look at Kate, who's now standing in front of you, looking down at you with a smile on her face, that is telling you, that she does not have any regrets of throwing you into the cage full of hungry tigers. Infact, she looks like a kid on a Christmas Eve. Suddenly, your mind is craving any touch. 

What's going on? 

‘You want this, shhh, you´re safe. Everything is okay. Just enjoy this.’ 

I want this. So much. 

‘That is right, malyshka.’ 

Wanda nods, giving a signal to the rest of the girls. Kate immediately knowing what to do, she basically sprints out of the room to get some stuff from the ‘Avengers special room’, it´s not even a minute and she's back with some ropes, wand, few straps, and handcuffs.  

It´s your first time with them, so they don’t want to overstimulate you that much. Other toys for other days. 

Maria takes the ropes and starts to tie your hands together, putting them above your head, “Keep them there.”  

“Yes, -” you stop yourself and Maria raises her eyebrow, she knows that you wanted to use your manners and address her by a title, but your little messy head does not know which one to use. 

“Sir.” She smirks and you nod a little. 

“Yes, sir,” you give her a little smile, it makes so much sense, that this is her title. 

“Already being so good?” Natasha kisses your forehead, going to the kitchen and making sure she's putting the phone in a good place for the perfect angle of her little movie. 

Lots of things are happening and you feel people touching you all over your body. Hill finishes tying your hands together and she comes to Natasha, both of them are saying something, but you can't hear at all. Your attention is now on Wanda and Kate, they are slowly tying your legs together, is hot, but adorable at the same time as the witch is teaching the young archer how to do the perfect knot. 

Carol is already without her clothes, having only a big strap on herself as she is adjusting the harness and even though you saw her naked already, you don’t think you could get enough of her. 

Suddenly there are some lips on yours, when they pull away, you notice it´s Yelena, you smile at her instinctively. She is a bit harsh, but you actually like it that way, and both of you know it. “Have fun, when you´re done here, come to my room. Understood?” 

You nod, again, “Understood, yes,” you whisper. 

Yelena just smiles a little, and slaps your cheek, which caught you off guard, but it sends shivers down your body, making your pussy even more wet. You´re positive that you´re already making so much mess. 

Carol finally comes to you and picks you up, without a word she places you on the table in the living room, making you the center of attention. But you don’t want her to let go of you, she's so warm and her strong embrace is making you feel like the most secured person in the entire milky way.  

“Don´t worry, malysh. Captain is very cuddly after sex.” Wanda sends you a wink as her and Kate finishes the tight knots on your legs. 

Natasha comes with a knife in her hand, slowly cutting through your clothes and with a slight smirk she says with such a rasp in her voice, “who wants to go first?” 

THANK YOU FOR READING! 💕💕💕

This went totally different way than I wanted to, but hey, here we are :p

[ccuniculusmolestus]

one thing the tsh fandom will do is constantly overlook the significance and also implications of henry and bunny's friendship in favor of relationships like henry and camilla. (and these were all realizations i had while talking to a friend so-)

we never see Bunny directly break down. well, we never see anything period because we're looking through Richard's eyes, and Richard never sees Bunny upset. I don't mean the upset where he's being mean or being a drunk in his dorm, I mean the kind of upset where he's sobbing and yelling out insults and threats and wrestling with Henry on the floor of their palazzo. I'm talking the kind of upset where he's screaming at Henry to stop touching him while crying in his bed.

We only ever hear that fight, and the other one in Rome we just get to hear of it. None of the others ever saw Bunny in that state, and I doubt they knew how the situation even arose. Only Henry did.

Only you know the way that I break.

And matter of fact, nobody saw Henry genuinely angry too. Even when he was dealing with Charles, he wasn't pissed per se, he was just annoyed and more ready to commit his third murder. I can't remember a scene where Henry genuinely loses it with someone he knows well (so, none of his friends). We only hear of him losing his shit with Bunny EXCEPT for the scene with Judy.

You push my buttons in a way nobody else can.

You know that makes me think, again, that him losing his shit at the party had less to do with Judy and more to do with Bunny. Think about it. Why would they be at a party where Bunny is nowhere to be seen? Why wouldn't Bunny, a party animal, be there with them? You'd think he might have invited the others, or at least heard of their intent to go and wanted to join them- but he just wasn't there. Why? What made the perfectly composed, stoic Henry lose his shit over something that, characteristically, shouldn't even annoy him? Who was later established to be the only thing in Henry's life capable of making him snap to the point of losing all self-control and resorting to violence?

That's right.

Bunny.

In every other case of aggressive, intentional, sober violence displayed by Henry, Bunny is the cause, on the receiving end, both times.

Henry and Bunny knew each other too much, way too much, and I'm tired of pretending theirs was not perhaps the most significant relationship in this story. Put aside the fact that the story is literally DRIVEN by them, put aside even the fact that they both are the only ones to die at the end (too much symbolism here kms), but their relationship genuinely is so fucked up and heavy it leaves more questions the more you think about them. So no, I don't think "Camilla was the only one who saw Henry for who he was" just because she was the recipient of his occasional smiles, because Henry was not just the gentle-giant she got to see. Neither do I believe "Richard was on the same frequency as Henry" because they had a shitty childhood (tbh all of them probably did?) and because Henry saved his ass from freezing. Henry was more so his rage and the anger he tried to keep sealed with the rest of himself, a destructive force trying desperately to reign himself in. Yes, he was not a bad person per se, but he was, like Bunny, a ticking time bomb (albeit a much more destructive one).

But even despite the anger and bitterness that later poisoned their relationship, I sometimes like to think of them whilst keeping in mind the fact that Bunny was the only one who could make Henry laugh. And Henry was the only one Bunny directly told about his past/home life. I think of them as freshmen, with Bunny's hair catching the sunlight in his lazy curls as his eyes crinkle and his tone rears back in preparation for a joke Henry doesn't see coming. And Henry, awkward in his detachment, with his nose in a book, trying to keep his lips from quivering up as the awful, stupid joke registers, and then failing to keep the chuckle from slipping through when Bunny's stupidly expectant face wriggles its eyebrows at him.

They were soulmates before they were friends.

And they were friends before they were enemies

[soaps-mohawk]

The Unicorn

Kyletober Day 8: Frottage

Summary: You were hesitant at first until he proved himself. Now you just like watching.

Pairing: Kyle x John x John’s wife!reader

Word Count: 1,133 words

Warnings: brief fear of cheating at the beginning, Frottage, badly written handjobs, a couple and their unicorn, fingering, mention of munch!Kyle

A/N: This one was fun to write...you'll see why hehe

MASTERLIST

He's cheating. 

That had been the first thought that came to mind when your husband sat you down to have a conversation. He'd just returned from months of being away, and you knew he was going to drop the bomb. There was someone else, someone younger and prettier he met halfway across the world on deployment. 

What you hadn't been expecting was for him to come out as bisexual. After years and years of marriage he'd never even once hinted at it, much less told you. Then again, you know sometimes it takes time to notice and accept these things. You wouldn't have guessed though, your rough and manly husband who chops wood and works on cars and goes fishing is also interested in men? 

Never judge a book by its cover, they say. 

What had shocked you even more was his admission that he met a man he was interested in. Fear had spiked in your heart, thinking he was going to divorce you for this man, but what he said next shocked you almost more than him coming out. 

He wasn't going to leave you, he wanted to bring this man into your relationship. 

You had been hesitant at first, worried that he might wiggle his way into your husband’s heart and you’d wind up divorced anyway. 

Then you met Kyle. 

You’ve never been so glad you decided to try. 

Your thighs are slick as you watch them, a tangle of limbs and tongues. You're seated on the lounge in the corner of the room, watching your husband and his toy. Your thighs are still trembling slightly from the near mind-numbing orgasm Kyle had given you with his mouth a few minutes ago. 

Your husband is currently cleaning the remnants of it off Kyle’s face with his tongue. 

You're nowhere near satisfied, your pussy starting to throb again as you watch them. Kyle's hands are resting on your husband's soft waist, the prominent bulges in their briefs pressed tight together. Kyle moans into John's mouth as he pushes his hips against Kyle's, their cocks rubbing together through the fabric. 

“Bloody christ.” John groans as Kyle kisses down his neck, focusing on the spot behind his ear. You taught Kyle all of John's favorite spots, all the places that drive him crazy. 

“Fuck...” Kyle hisses as John grinds against him. 

“Let me see that pretty cock.” John growls, pushing Kyle back just slightly. 

You bite back a moan as Kyle pushes his briefs down his legs, that cute, pert ass on display from your angle. His cock stands at attention, longer than he is thick, but John makes up plenty for that. His cock is thick and heavy where it sits between his thighs. Your pussy flutters as you stare at them, two beautiful men so very different and yet so much alike. 

Kyle takes John's cock in his hand, pumping it as he steps closer. You half expect him to drop to his knees, but instead he steps right up to John, closing his hand around both of their cocks. You watch captivated as Kyle rubs their cocks together, his long fingers wrapped around both. Their eyes are locked, lips parted as they both breathe heavily. 

“So fucking pretty.” John groans, cupping the back of Kyle’s neck. “Look at you.” 

Kyle sinks his teeth into his lip, his head tilting back into John’s hand. You shift in the lounge, putting your feet up on the ottoman to give yourself room. There’s a painful throb between your legs as you watch them, your fingers slipping down between your thighs to try and ease that ache a bit. 

John tilts his head down, a glob of spit landing on their cocks. Kyle’s hand spreads it across their skin as he continues to pump their cocks, his hand picking up speed. You match his speed with your fingers on your clit, your pussy already wet and pulsing just from watching them together. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Kyle groans. “Feels so fucking good.” 

John leans forward, pressing their foreheads together, both of them staring down at their cocks as Kyle rubs them together. They’re a sight, the two of them. John is always the dominant one, and Kyle is always willing to sub for him. He trusts John on a level you can’t quite understand because you’re so separated from their world. It’s different from the trust you have with your husband, but perhaps that’s why the three of you work so perfectly.

Kyle lifts his gaze, staring into John’s eyes. His kiss-plump lips are parted as he moans, the sound like a sweet music harmonizing with John’s own deep, breathy groans. You sink your teeth into your lip to hold in your own as you sink two fingers into yourself, easing off your clit to delay an orgasm. You don’t want to distract them from this moment, you don’t want to pull them away from each other. Not yet. 

Kyle’s hand speeds up even faster, his hips rolling in time with his thrusts. “Fuck, fuck.” He moans, dropping his head to rest it on John’s shoulder. 

John grips his hips, both of them thrusting into Kyle’s hand. They’re close, the telltale needy breathiness pitching their moans higher. Your own fingers curl around the arm of the chair, the wet squelch of your fingers hidden under the wet sound of their cocks. You can imagine them coated in precum, slick and shiny as they get closer and closer to their orgasms. 

“Gonna cum.” Kyle moans, his words muffled against John’s shoulder. 

“Cum for me.” John grunts, cupping the back of Kyle’s head again. 

Kyle’s whole body shudders, his hips jerking as he cums, the white fluid leaking from his tip to coat his hand. John follows almost immediately after, a long groan leaving his lips as his hips press against Kyle’s hand. It’s such a tender moment, both of them breathing heavily, leaning against each other as Kyle’s hand slows to a stop, milking every last drop they can give. John eases Kyle’s head up off his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It speaks volumes of their care and love for each other. 

John leans forward to whisper something in his ear, Kyle’s lips lifting in a smirk. They both turn to look at you as John leans back, your face warm as they meet your gaze. Your legs close around your hand as you sit there, the energy in the room shifting. 

“Not quite done yet, are we, sweetheart?” John says, his gaze darkening as he looks at you. 

No, you’re not. 

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[silantryoo]

baek harin x reader

WARNINGS ; TRIGGER WARNING! heavy manipulation, love bombing, possessiveness, gaslighting, physical and emotional abuse, spoilers up to episode 8 of pyramid game

your thoughts ran wild.

harin probably already knew. somehow, she always figured out what you were thinking, as if you were an open book. she could tell your worries and your fears by glancing at you.

you did well. you knew that she would be proud of you, but still...

you shook your head. now wasn't the time to be nervous.

smoke wafted around the baekyeon heiress as you approached her, her eyes drifting in the distance. in her hand, a cigarette, laced with gold and stuffed with toxins that harin always seemed to indulge herself in.

her head tilted towards you, a dull sparkle in her eye.

"so?"

her voice was monotone, carrying out a sense of boredom that she only showed to a few others.

you watched her in all her beauty, the curls of the fog shaping the area around her. the heiress was stunning, and it always took you a couple seconds to reel yourself back to reality.

harin rolled her eyes as she approached you, tapping the side of her smoke as a warning.

instinctively, you straightened, your eyes wide as she smiled.

there was something so addictive about frightening you, something that was true genuine fear laced with an undying loyalty. you were impossible to replicate, a faithful dog waiting by her bedside.

you took a deep breath, inhaling the smoke through your nose. "i got ambushed by jaeun, suji, and them."

"i thought so." another puff of smoke exited her mouth. "did they mention anything?"

anything else?

you bit your tongue, your face ridden with guilt.

you were tired of the game, tired of getting hurt. as much as you yearned for harin's happiness, the exhaustion was getting to you. you just wanted one day to yourself, without eunbyeol and harin breathing down your back.

"no."

harin's eyes hardened, her gaze trained on you like a hawk. her pupils took in the sight; your quivering mouth, your avoidant stare...

she smiled.

"why don't i believe you?" harin clicked her tongue, pointing the end of her smoke near your cheek. "is it because you're lying to me?"

she knew. how did she know?

"no, i just..."

("join us.")

you never questioned why class 1-5 were in the middle of nowhere.

the building was nice, decorated with marble columns and sleek white paint. the washrooms were clean, close by, and rarely messy except for the occasional tissue lying on the ground.

it felt as if you were purposely isolated, the twenty-four other girls in your class being the only ones in reach.

sometimes, you even forgot other classes existed.

"harin's a fucking bitch."

you paused. kim dayeon?

a girl like her wouldn't be caught dead in the library. there was no reason for her to be here, much less talk shit about the heiress of the entire school.

you kept your mouth shut as your thoughts wandered to the girl in question.

baek harin.

pretty, intelligent, soft-spoken. from what you've seen, all those things were right. you were always too shy to approach her, your thoughts clouded by the beauty that she held. from what you heard from others, she was the embodiment of niceness, going out of her way to lend others money with nothing in return (yet).

why would dayeon even say these things about her?

"god, you think she's all high and mighty." dayeon muttered, her feet shuffling as she paced back and forth. "that psycho probably wants us to worship the ground she walks on."

psycho? baek harin wasn't a psycho.

"a hierarchy game?" dayeon could already see it in her head. she had no choice but to agree at that moment, wanting to spare herself from her father later that day, but when harin had mentioned it... "is she demented?"

"pyramid game, dayeon." seo doah. that made sense as to why dayeon was here. "if you're gonna insult it, at least name it properly."

"shut it."

"you might also wanna check if anyone else is in the library." your throat ran dry as doah stood up, staring at you across the room. "right, y/n?"

you shot up, your eyes wide as dayeon stared at you. there was something in her eyes that was unfamiliar.

fear? what was she scared of? surely, it wasn't harin.

"um..."

"fuck." your eyes widened at her words. never in your life would you have thought that the eccentric kim dayeon would swear like a sailor. "don't you dare say shit, you understand me?"

you shook your head, your body stiff. "i won't-"

"you don't know what the fuck is at risk here." dayeon's anger roared throughout the library, her fist shaking. dayeon wouldn't hit you... right? "open your mouth and i'll stitch it shut."

you nodded, trembling as you packed your things to leave.

"jeez, dayeon..." doah shook her head.

you stood up, your bag half open, and your textbooks barely inside. in your arms, you gathered everything that you could, arms shaking as you rushed out the room.

a spark of fear lighted up inside you when you saw daeyeon fingernails imbed themselves into the soft skin of her palm. the crescents swelled a bright red, and you knew that she wasn't joking.

she was gonna hurt you. was she gonna hurt harin as well?

you needed to get out of here, maybe even tell harin how insane and dangerous her friend seemed.

how was that even possible? how could someone like dayeon hold a rage inside themselves like that? you could understand it from that suck up, wooyi, but dayeon?

you stumbled slightly as you turned the corner, the books nearly falling out of your bag as you collided with someone. a strong, sculpted hand grabbed your elbow, electricity shooting up your arm.

that feeling...

"is something wrong?"

her breath smelt faintly of nicotine, her perfume - one you assumed cost at least a couple hundred dollars - blocking the scent enough to not register in your brain.

you bit your tongue. "no..."

"you can tell me, y/n-ah." your heart leaped at her words, a cloud of affection and care seemingly coating them. "i don't bite."

harin's smile seemed so soft and elegant, like the status she so desperately upheld. her eyes gleamed gently (and if you looked any closer, void of life) as her cheeks dusted in a costly blush.

don't snitch. you thought as her worried gaze peered into your soul. why should i protect dayeon?

you bit your tongue, your chest bursting with guilt at the thought of dayeon laying a finger on the heiress in front of you.

"dayeon..." you whisper as an eyebrow on her pretty face raised. "she, um, she might hurt you."

you waited for harin's face to shift into worry, into fear, into a normal reaction. you waited for her lips to part and ask 'why?', to ponder what your words truly meant.

instead, she laughed, as if the thought of dayeon hurting her was a part of some greco-roman comedy and not a tragedy.

harin let go of your arm, moving your hair out of your face as your eyebrows furrowed.

"so i'm guess you heard about my game as well?"

you nod. you had forgotten that those threats had stemmed from some game dayeon had mentioned.

a hierarchy game... a pyramid game.

"what do you think about it?" harin's eyes shone in a playful demeanor, full of curiosity and excitement. you couldn't fathom why or how she wasn't worried. "doesn't it sound fun?"

the air shifted around you as her irises seemed to blacken. a heavy burden settled on your chest as she face twitched into a smile, and you felt compelled - forced - to agree.

"it does," you chuckled awkwardly. "i guess."

a soft hum escaped her mouth, her eyes glancing at your face, taking in the fear that had shifted from dayeon to her. behind your eyes, she saw something... something exciting.

the heiress smiled.

"i hope you're in 'a' with me." you had no idea what she meant, but the thought of being near baek harin made the room spin. "it'll be lonely without you."

she stepped beside you, a gentle touch on your shoulder. her breath wafted close to your ear as she spoke with a stiff voice, one you wouldn't recognize as harin's.

"thanks for the heads up about dayeon." you shivered, a cool line shooting up your spine. "i'll deal with her."

she walked away as a deep pit in your stomach emerged.

deal with her?

you gripped your books tighter as you listened to the fading footsteps, and the soft "hello, can i speak to mr. kim? it's harin." in the distance.

you didn't know why, but somehow, you made the wrong decision.

you were never scared of blood.

it was a liquid that flowed inside you and every person's body, just like how water seeped from the sky and into the ground. blood was a natural process, nothing more and nothing less.

but when you saw that knife, drenched from your classmate's fresh wound...

you shivered at the thought, while harin's soft hands fiddled with a strand of your hair.

"do you feel bad for her?" harin's smile never disappeared, not since the game started. it didn't disappear when crimson dripped onto the floor, either. "woori?"

her lifeless eyes bore into yours, jolts of electricity and fire rising throughout your fingertips and cheeks. her hand, close enough to feel your breath, paused as the rest of harin's body stilled.

all of her stopped, as if so curious about your thoughts that each cell of hers had to still.

"you can be honest." her breath laced in nicotine once more, her perfume no longer covering the overwhelming scent. "i wanna know."

woori was an 'f'.

being an 'a' yourself, you had the right to torture her, to manipulate and ridicule her.

you never did, leaving it up to dayeon to do whatever she pleased with her. part of you still felt bad for what happened earlier in the year, and each time you blinked, you remembered the heavy-handed bruises left on dayeon's face the day after you had told harin about the library incident.

you understood woori, though. the mental toll it must've taken, being bullied throughout the day, months on end without another student looking your way. telling the teachers only resulted in a beating at best, and at worst...

your eyes clenched tightly as your brain replayed that video.

"a little..."

harin chuckled, pulling her hand away and fishing out a cigarette.

"you saw her cut jaeun up." harin muttered through her smoke, her delicate fingers wrapped around the golden band.

you remember the marble on the classroom floor stained red in a way that you didn't think it would.

blood wasn't scary. fear was.

"i did."

"and you still feel bad." harin inhaled, smoke leaving her nostrils as she looked you up and down. "interesting..."

as of late, harin had been smoking around you more and more often. whether it be behind the shed or simply just the two of you in the library, clouds of smoke seemed to follow her, and in turn, you.

the first time it had happened, you had coughed violently, taken off guard as the heiress smiled. your tears were exciting to her, much like your overwhelming sense of loyalty clashing with your morality.

she had never met anyone who was so inwardly conflicted.

"did she really drop out, harin-ah?"

harin blinked, standing up from her chair as she snubbed the end of her cig on some random book cover in front of her. she threw the smoke onto the floor, grinding it with her heel. her eyes were cold, and dark, and you knew that you had messed up again.

you didn't cough this time around. she had no reason to be mad.

the heiress gathered her belongings, sparing not a single glance your way.

"y/n?"

your heart skipped a beat.

"yeah?"

"my name's harin." she glanced at you, unamused. "don't call me that again."

seong suji.

the girl was nice, a little naive to the happenings of class 2-5. you could tell from a mile away that the girl wanted to stay low and let time pass its course, but you knew better than anyone that she had a target on her back.

everyone's attention had been on her from the moment whispers spread about a new girl transferring into the class. the moment she stepped into the room, you watched as harin's eyes lit up, and a fire blazed inside you.

you didn't know whether it was guilt or jealousy.

"are you stupid?" harin clenched her teeth as she hovered over you, her eyes hardening like coals under pressure. "telling the new girl about my game?"

suji didn't hear the predators hiding in the tall grass. she didn't see their eyes, nor did she notice their bloodlust-filled gazes, but she felt it, and there were only two people in her mind who seemed to lack the barbarity that lingered in the empty halls of the complex.

"look at me!"

your eyes snapped to harin's, anger exuding from her lips as puffs of smoke filled the air and ashes fell onto the ground.

you winced.

"harin..." you had never seen this side of her, not directed at you. you had always watched from the distance as opposed to being the target. "i just thought-"

"did you?" harin's lips curled in a way that could only be described as disbelief, your utter incompetence boggling her mind. "or are you just as stupid as your dropout brother?"

you winced, the low blow winding your self-esteem.

"she looked confused." you tried your best to reason with an iron wall. "i didn't want her to feel like-"

harin's eyes widened, and her usual curiosity morphed into an unfiltered rage.

"like who? woori? jaeun?" she exhaled another cloud, your face getting covered in smoke as you struggled to breath. "you're so fucking stupid."

you felt the heiress lean closer, the tip of the cigarette centimeters away from your cheek.

"i'm sorry."

"you're sorry?" harin could feel her blood boiling. everything was ruined. "i had a plan. you ruined it for me. you ruined my game, y/n."

you closed your eyes, trying to drown out the sharp words and the blanket of burden that harin enveloped you with.

you just wished harin would go back to being curious and playful, and leave you ignorant to the fact that deep down, she was the monster dayeon had implied many months ago.

with a weak voice, you tried to reason. "i didn't mean to..."

"you didn't-" harin backed away, ripping the smoke from her lips and into her fingertips. "give me your hand."

your eyes widened.

"harin-"

she grabbed your wrist with a surprising amount of strength. her nails dug into your arm, your teeth grinding together at the dull pain. the heat of the cigarette hovered over your palm as you struggled to pull back, and you couldn't help but choke out a strangled gasp.

"harin, wait-"

the smell of flesh burning invaded your senses as your arm shook from the pain. lightning seemed to replace your veins, as a fire replaced your blood. your vision fuzzed, the tears in your eyes falling down your chin.

harin glanced at you, a small smile replacing her grimace. you were always so pretty when you were in pain.

"remember this." she threw her smoke onto the ground, her grip on your wrist tightening. "you mess with my game, you upset me. you don't want that to happen again, do you?"

the last thing you wanted was to see harin frown in your direction.

"no."

harin smiled, glancing at how your lips quivered and how your eyes held an intoxicating mixture of fear and want. quietly, she wiped a tear with her free hand, chuckling as you flinched at her touch.

"then stay away from seong suji." she leaned in, her voice soft except for the threatening undertone. "if i see you even look at her without my permission, i'll make your life hell."

her grip loosened, harin's eyes softening as she looked at you with what seemed to be worry and understanding.

"i..." you blinked, agreeing like an obedient dog. even now, you couldn't help but wonder which harin was the real harin, but all you knew was that you didn't want to disappoint her. "i understand."

harin sighed, glancing at the burn in your hand with contempt. "i don't like doing this to you."

you paused, your face brightening as the smell of tobacco stuck to your blazer.

"you don't?"

harin smiled. it was like catching a mouse in a well placed trap. you were predictable and easy to please. a couple right words and you'd be under her spell all over again.

"you think i do?" the heiress frowned, biting her tongue.

she loved it.

"no..."

with a giggle, she took your wrist, much more gently than before.

"let's get you patched up."

harin liked putting on lipgloss around you.

she liked the way your eyes darted to her mouth for a split second before they looked anywhere else in the room. the redness of your cheeks delighted her in the sense that she knew that no matter what, you'd be stuck under her thumb.

you were her stupid, little puppet. your strings strong and unwavering, and your heart tainted with a loved one that you thought she didn't see.

it was adorable, like a puppy chasing its own tail, or a whale, no longer strong enough to go up for air.

harin liked to send you on mindless errands.

it was a good way to keep you in check, much better than instilling fear. she could sense that someone like you liked to feel needed, even if it's something as simple as fetching her more of her favorite brand of smokes or picking up items that she used for bribery.

it gave her a good laugh when you would come back, beaming as if you accomplished something when in reality, one of her maids could have easily done the same.

you were none the wiser, currently on your way to getting her more coffee (well, to get doah coffee per harin's demand).

you were just about to leave the campus, but a strong yet gentle hand yanked you aside, dragging you out of sight from the windows of the complex.

"sorry, y/n-ah."

you tried to shake her off, but she was too strong.

"jaeun, let go." why was she doing this? more importantly, why was she taking you to the nearby convenience store. "i can't be talking to you. you know that."

jaeun stopped, and you thought that she had finally gotten tired of you complaining so much. instead, you looked at the scene in front of you, two girls sitting in the shade of a foldable umbrella.

harin was gonna burn you alive.

"harin's pet?" jaehyeong shook her head, staring at the taller girl beside you. "jaeun-ie, are you sick? do you have a fever?"

you frowned. you weren't 'harin's pet'. so what if you liked being around her?

"she's nice." jaeun muttered, ushering you to the other girls. you tried to turn away, but she moved you in such a way that you couldn't escape. "she helped suji out."

"that was a mistake."

suji raised an eyebrow. she didn't know what was wrong with you. how could someone change so much in a matter of two months?

her eyes wandered your figure, stopping at the burns that littered your right hand.

oh. that makes sense.

"hey, y/n-ah."

"yerim?" you turned around, your jaw hanging open as the trainee sat with the girls, sipping on a can of coffee. you glanced at her phone, watching as she scrolled through eunjeong's instagram. "what the hell is going on?"

you looked around, their eyes glancing at suji with hesitation.

"you're not gonna convince her, suji." yerim shook her head.

being in rank 'a' herself, she knew firsthand how you followed every word harin said. she could tell from a mile away what it was, yerim herself victim to the feeling with a certain swimmer.

but there was a difference between the two of you, one that could prove to be detrimental.

you needed someone to follow, while she didn't.

"i can." suji glanced at your hand again. "i know i can."

"convince me?"

you felt a lump in your throat, praying that somehow, in some way, harin would come barging in and save you from whatever was going on here.

you took a deep breath, and sensing danger was near, gripped your wrist for safety.

jaeun frowned.

"i was serious about bringing down the game, y/n."

the pyramid game.

that stupid game that harin focused all her energy into, hellbent on keeping the perfect hierarchy intact. the one where you watched your classmates get beaten to a pulp, bloody and broken to the point of mental disarray.

you had never spoken it out loud, but you were tired of it, watching everyone you know either do the hurting or get hurt (most times both).

but this was harin's game, and you'd rather hurt yourself than upset the girl you loved.

"harin'll be pissed."

yerim chuckled, a knowing smile on her face. she didn't expect anything less from you.

"aren't you?" suji glanced at your hand, one you held for dear life, as if you were afraid it would get burned again. "after everything you've done for her, she still burns you."

you frowned.

harin did it with good reason. she needed to keep you in line, to keep you from lashing out. she did this to you because, unlike wooyi or dayeon, she trusted you enough to understand.

harin did it out of the pureness of her heart.

"that was an accident."

"an accident?" suji could feel your doubt starting to seep through. that was enough for her, to see the light beyond the cracks of your love. "hurting you multiple times the same way was an accident?"

was it an accident? it had to be, otherwise, harin was just hurting you to hurt you.

you shook the thought out of your head, missing the way the girls looked at each other, satisfied.

"what do you want, seong suji?"

there was a beat in the air.

"join us."

she knew. how did she know?

"no, i just..."

you liked harin, even when she suffocated you with her smoke, staining your white shirt with the ash of her cigarettes. her eyes wandered yours routinely, and it felt as if she was trying to dig deep as if she needed you.

"i figured out a way to get to them."

harin's eyes sparkled. she would have never thought that you, docile and timid, would ever think of something other than her and school.

it was... exhilarating.

"sim eunjeong." you rattled out a breath, your eyes clenching at the very thought of what you were doing. "yerim... likes her more than we think."

the heiress laughed, the excitement in her chest bursting at the thought of you ignoring your morals just to please her and only her.

she leaned close to you, her face in front of yours as she moved a single lock of hair behind your ear. shivers ran up your spine.

"do you feel bad, y/n-ah?" harin hadn't felt this happy in a while. "ratting them out to me must be so heavy on your consciousness."

she looked you up and down, your eyes avoiding hers. your cheeks were tinged in red, and the guilt written all over your face didn't help the giddiness that was starting to overtake her.

"you're fun, y/n."

you'd do anything for her, even when she hurt you. even when everyone screamed and yelled at you to leave, ignoring the bright red stop signs.

"i like you."

> main masterlist.

[knightofleo]

The cover of my debut album.

[getmeoutofhell]

HEYY!! i have a req! could you do where like reader dresses up as art for halloween? but like not during the day but when he gets home? like reader is dressed in black and white lingerie? like the top is a white lacy corset and the underwear is black and lacy too?? and when he comes home he just sees the reader and shit goes DOWN! if not its totally okay! make it as long as you want make it as short it doesn’t matter! whatever your heart desires! im sorry if this is also to much to ask for! but ily and take your time or dont do it! whatever youd prefer! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Art the Clown x F! reader smut

summary: reader decides to dress up as art for a surprise, but he had other plans.

warnings: smut!, cussing.

it was 9pm, art should be home soon. you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before walking out yalls shared bedroom. you decided today you wanted to dress like him as a surprise. if we’re being technical, your outfit wasn’t exactly like his. it was a lingerie version. before he got home you had also cleaned up the house (basically cleaning up after him as usual). you and art have been together for some time now, meaning yalls anniversary is coming up soon, so you thought now would be the perfect time.

you hear the door downstairs creak open, indicating art’s finally home. you miss him every second he’s away from you. you bought him a phone, to text him while he’s away, and not even a week later he broke it. you told him not to put his phone in the bad of sharp objects, but of course he has to be stubborn and do everything his way all the time. you watch art as he shuts the door and places his bag on the side before stripping out of his clown shoes. he must be really tired to take off his shoes right as he enters the house, it’s rare for him to do that. he then grabs his air horn and starts to abuse it, it’s his way of letting you know he’s home. “hi baby! i have a surprise for you but you have to close your eyesss.” he immediately complies and covers his eyes with hands as you walk down the stairs. you tell him no peaking before guiding him to the living room couch, having him take a seat on the sofa. you can see him smiling due to how high his cheeks are raised, making you smile at him. he’s so cute when he’s not out killing, but his evil side also attracts you in a way.

“okay are you ready?” you ask, placing your hands over arts. he nods like a small school boy, eager to see what his surprise is. you start to count down from 3. “3…2…1…open!” he opens his eyes before looking you up and down with the biggest grin known to man. he starts to clap his hands and toot his horn and the sight of you. “i’m you, kinda.” he loves it!! that’s good, maybe it’ll make him not so sleepy. when all of sudden, he stops clapping and his face goes blank. you step back slowly, confused on his sudden change of emotions. you know art is a ticking time bomb, one minute he’s happy the next he’s pissed off and you don’t know why. as you were about to ask him what’s wrong, he gets up from the couch standing directly in front of your face. you feel his hot breath against your nose as he looks down at you. in moments like these, you feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. what if he decides to just bash your fucking brains in, not caring about you or anything anymore. not that he cares about anything right now anyway, but still. he places his left hand on your cheek. your eyes never left his face. you take notice in his facial features, noticing his wrinkles around his eyes and his blonde eyelashes, his little black hat that he always wears on his head. he was handsome when he was serious, but also he was deadly.

he out of nowhere suddenly grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you let out a scream. “art!! what the fuck!” you’re then taken upstairs to y’all’s shared room, as he throws you on the bed. he takes this chance to guide his hands down to your legs, before spreading them open for him. art has this problem where he randomly gets horny, but i guess you did wear the costume on purpose or whatever…but that’s not important right now. you take a look at arts pants, seeing a boner forming. i guess dressing up as him did work. you can’t help but crack a smirk at that. you’ve been waiting all damn day for this moment, so why not enjoy every bit of it. art then starts kissing you up your neck, you feel him leaving hickeys or at least trying too anyway. you slightly moan feeling his tongue slide over your delicate skin. art takes advantage of this, sliding his hand inside of your panties, immediately attaching his ring and minder finger to your swollen clit. “oh!”

you then put your hands on his back, grabbing the zipper to his costume and unzipping it. “baby, let me take this off of you.” he ignores your request by pressing his fingers against your clit harder. a couple minutes later and you’re on the edge of your first orgasm of the day. “baby, i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” he looks at you and cracks that certain smile that lets you know he might stop at any given moment. you beg him not to, wanting to let your orgasm ride out. he finally rolls his eyes and let’s you cum all over his fingers. it feels so good, you can’t describe how much pleasure he makes you have. someone so cruel and sick like him has your toes curling and back arching. it’s a blessing and a curse. he slowly removes his hand from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his mouth. he shoves them in, tasting your wetness on his tongue. he acts like you’re some sort of drug, he’s addicted to your pussy, it’s his favorite dessert after a long hard day.

his head somehow was now deep between your legs, licking up your pussy lips. the way his tongue dances on your clit makes you think he needs it. he acts like he does. your head was thrown back into the bed, and it felt so fucking good you couldn’t even moan properly. black and white face paint spread all over your inner thighs, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was cumming all over his face. “fuck!” you started grinding over his wet mouth, feeling your second orgasm approaching by the second. it was getting to much to the point where your legs started to shake like no other. what type of spell does he have on you? how does he know how to make you cum so fucking fast? you know you have no answers to those questions. you moan his name like a chant, as you finally let yourself go for the second time. your body couldn’t take it, you were so sensitive and he knew that.

as you’re trying to calm down from your orgasm, art didn’t even give you the time to before he lined his cock up with your entrance. “baby, i can’t take all of this at once.” once again, he ignored you and slide right in. your eyes had a mind of their own as they rolled in the back of your skull. his dick was so good, he’s fucks you like his life depends on it. he knew exactly where your g spot was and always abused that spot each chance he gets. you loved when he marked you as his, the way his cum filled you to the brim and you watched it drip out of you. “yes baby, give it to me! harder!” you moan his name again as skin on skin could be heard from everywhere, his balls slapping your ass. not to long later you feel art slow down his pace, telling you he’s about to cum. you always want him to cum inside so you bring him closer to you than he was already. arts legs started shaking against you. you’re cumming. it’s uncontrollable at this point, feeling your body go limp under him.

you wonder, does he actually know how much you mean to him. does he feel the same way?

hope this was to your liking!! let me know if you enjoyed :)

[shixcherie]

Bathbombs & Little Deaths | Kim Hongjoong ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

☆ Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 02 : Praise, Body Worship

↬ [ Synopsis ] : What do bath bombs and little deaths (orgasms) have in common? When they burst, the aftermath is heavenly and ultra soothing. And HongJoong is here to give you both. Will you survive what Joongie has planned for you in the warmth of the bathtub, or experience a little death in the process?

Word Count : 2.4k Genre : Idol Au, Smut, Angst. Pairing : Boyfriend! HongJoong x F.Reader

WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), a bit of plot, oral (fem recieving), bathub intimacy, use of jewelery (rings), dom/ sub undertones, multiple orgasms, bodyworship, praise, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, angel ), mentions of alchol consumption, aftercare, nipple play.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 2 is here, ma chéries, and it’s a HongJoongie fic day! I’ve always wanted to write something involving a bathtub, so here I deliver. I may have gone a bit overboard with the word count, staying up late at night, so I hope you enjoy this pieceand shower it with alot of love.

Also, "Little Deaths" in French means "Orgasms." They’re called that because they’re so intense, it feels like you die and are reborn as a new person (a reference from Emily in Paris, S1).

Sorry for the long note, but here’s a glimpse of the bathroom (imagine it with more space for your hands) where our Y/N experiences her little deaths!

After the best album release and a power packed comeback..all Hongjoong wants is to relax in bath tub...with you of course.

Saying Hongjoong was on cloud nine would be an understatement. After pouring their blood, sweat, and tears into Ateez’s latest album, the concluding part of their The World series, the leader was incredibly happy and proud to see the album breaking records, winning numerous awards, and charting on global rankings. Most importantly, the Atiny were going loco for their title track "Crazy Form." The group had already celebrated officially with all the team members, but Hongjoong decided to throw a mini party just for the members, inviting their close friends to join in the celebration.

It was 2 in the morning, and finally, everyone had left after having a crazy yet cozy night. You and HongJoong had somehow managed to send San home since our little kitten had gone overboard and gotten a bit too drunk. It took Wooyoung and his girlfriend dragging him out while he babbled about protein, gym and working hard for atiny — our kitten was such a gym freak and fucking adobarble but extremely sincere idol that even in his drunken state, he couldn't stop declaring his love for atiny.

As you cleared the living room, making sure no one had left anything behind, you noticed Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen.You paused for a moment, listening to the quiet house, the faint sound of water running upstairs catching your attention. A small smile appeared on your face, already knowing where Hongjoong is, you made your way upstairs, to your shared bedroom. When you reached the bathroom door, you could see yellow glow of candles peaking through the door, you both loved scented candles and night baths, so having them in you bathroom was a must.

Hongjoong looked up as you entered, his sleeves rolled up while he dissolved your favorite vanilla lavender bath bomb. A soft smile spread across his lips. "I thought you might like a relaxing bath," he said, standing up and walking over to you. His hands slid around your waist, gently pulling you closer.

You felt the tension of the evening start to melt away just from his touch. “You read my mind,” you murmured, your hands resting on his chest.

“After tonight, I think we both deserve it.” he replied.

You could feel his heart beating steadily beneath your fingertips, a calming rhythm that matched your own.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Come on,” he whispered , “let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You smiled, letting him help you undress. His fingers were gentle as he worked your clothes, guiding them down your legs. Once you were both undressed, Hongjoong stepped into the tub first, holding out a hand to help you in. The water was perfectly warm, enveloping you like a soft blanket.You settled between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as his arms wrapped snugly around you, pulling you even closer. The water rippled gently around your bodies, infused with the sweet scent of your favorite vanilla and lavender bath bomb, now fully dissolved, creating a soothing, fragrant haze in the tub.

You could feel his breath against your neck, his lips brushing your shoulder with a soft kiss. You sighed and leaned back into him. While his lips decorated your neck with butterfly kisses, his hands were busy massaging your breasts, occasionally pinching your nipples. His cold silver rings added another layer of stimulation, sending sparks throughout your body. Eventually, his tender lips made their way to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “Thanks for tonight, love. Without your help, this party wouldn’t have been possible,” he whispered, his mouth now kissing the most sensitive spot behind your ear, which instantly turned you on.

“I’d do anything to see you happy, Joong. But if you really want to thank me, I can think of a few ways we could make tonight even better…” Your head leaned back on his shoulder. You were extremely turned on at this point, and the ache between your legs was proof of it.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed, slightly biting the skin below your ear. You winced with equal parts pain and pleasure, eventually succumbing entirely to pleasure as Joong’s hand traveled down south while his other hand was busy playing with your left nipple. His rings left a trail of goosebumps whenever they came into contact with your skin.

“Have a few things planned for you, babygirl,” he whispered, his thumb now busy rubbing up and down your entrance, his platinum ring on his middle finger coming into contact with your pulsating core, collecting your slick to gently make circles on your clit. A tremble passed through your entire body. You never knew a few silver rings could stimulate this much. Each touch on the sensitive nub and the cold metal contact had you jolting a little, and you could feel your eyes begin to well up with tears because of the stimulation.

“Joong, please…” your bottom lip was between your teeth, fully flustered by the way his hands and lips were miraculously working on your body.

“Does that feel good baby ?” he asks.

You sigh “feels so good” that last part comes more like a whine.

“You wanna cum, honey?” he asks again, his digits moving faster now, rubbing your entrance, slick juices leaking onto his digits and coating his silver rings. You were extremely wet and desperate for a release, responding to him with a breathy moan. Suddenly, his movements stopped, all at once earning a whiny whimper from you. He quickly took a lick of his fingers, where your juices coated and glistened on his shiny rings.

You twist your body to face him. “Joong, I need yo—” he smashed his lips to yours, hands cupping your face as you melted into the kiss, tasting yourself mixed with his saliva. Your hand traveled to his neck, pulling him impossibly close as you deepened the kiss. Your body twisted fully toward him, never breaking the intense, firework-like kiss you two were sharing.

Breaking the kiss after who knows how long, he took a moment to admire your face. A red blush decorated your flushed cheeks, your puffy cherry-red lips looking more inviting with every passing microsecond, and an angelic glow coated your whole face, causing a volcanic eruption of emotion in Hongjoong’s chest.

The moment not only made Hongjoong’s cock twitch from desire, given how turned on he was at that very fucking moment, but his heart ached with so much love for you. The only way to put this feeling into words was to either write a whole freaking album about you or fuck you till eternity. Only one of these could satisfy the fire blazing through his entire body.

For now, Joong decided to go with the latter, letting his desire take the lead.

“Can you sit on the surface, baby?” he asked, helping you stand and eventually guiding you to lay on the island, your elbows propping up your body. Your legs remained in the water as Hongjoong settled comfortably between them. Gently opening your legs, his lips found their way to your smooth thighs. He had always admired your thighs for how soft they were, but right now, he was needed somewhere else—somewhere very urgent and aching for his tongue.

But Joong planned on savoring you little by little, and sleep was not on tonight’s schedule, so he was in no hurry. His mouth coated the inside of your thighs with gentle kisses, occasionally surprising you with playful bites, reminding you how much of a switch he could be. Sweet kisses trailed their way to your aching core, where you needed him the most. Your world was spinning, and all you could do was encourage him with your needy moans.

He took a micro moment to admire your glistening core, shining and waiting eagerly for him to devour. Wasting no time, he gave a gentle yet thorough lick of your core, just to taste and satisfy his anticipation. The taste short-circuited his brain, your sweet juices inviting him to feast.

He dove in deeper, his tongue exploring your glistening core, savoring the sweet juices that turned him on while his unattended cock hardened with desire. Each teasing flick sent shivers through your body, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Joong…ahh...oh my god, keep going, please,” you whimpered, urging him to go on. He responded by intensifying the swirling of his tongue over your most sensitive spots and switching to suck on your bud, driving you wild. The world around you faded; all that existed was him and the intoxicating pleasure he was giving you at that very moment.

“Almost there, baby; I can feel you coming,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin. “Give it to me, baby. I want to taste every bit of you.” With one final swirl and a harsh suck on your clit, the knot in your stomach snapped, and you cried out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your body arched, trembling under the force of your release.

He didn’t stop, eager to drink the last drops of you, his mouth still working its magic. “You taste divine, honey,” he grinned, pulling back to admire your blissful expression. “You’re absolutely perfect, and I can’t get enough of you.” The satisfaction was clear in his eyes as he enjoyed your pleasure drunk face.

Was he done with you tho, heck no…not so early.

While you recovered from the high, he swiftly got out of the tub, grabbing the towels from the shelves and laying them on the bath island for you to get comfortable. As you moved onto the fluffy towel, he made himself comfortable on top of you, not fully crushing you but putting just the right amount of weight to maintain that sensual feeling. Somewhat recovered from your high and realizing the position you both were in, you gently wrapped your legs around his waist. A swift pull brought his lower body entirely onto you, his cock settling perfectly on your core. Your toes curled at the sudden contact with his hardened dick.

He settled his face between your boobs, kissing the center, eventually taking your right boob in his mouth. His hands balanced his upper body while his dangerously skilled tongue swirled around your nipple, sucking and biting, erupting pleasure throughout your entire body.

With each suck on your nipple, soft gasps escaped your lips, your body arching into him as pleasure radiated from your chest. “Oh, Joong, that feels so good,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at his roots and earning a groan from him. His mouth worked its magic, his warm tongue swirling around your sensitive yet now hard nipples, sending electric shivers through you.

He took his time, alternating between gentle nibbles and deep, hungry sucks, each sensation earning soft whimpers from you. “Mmm, just like that,” you encouraged, feeling the heat rise in your core with every tug of his lips. The way he lavished attention on your breasts ignited a fire deep within, leaving you breathless.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his tongue dancing playfully, devouring your soft breasts before pulling away just enough to tease. You felt a rush of heat as his eyes flicked up to meet yours, a mischievous gaze adorning his face.

The weight of his body pressed down on you, the heat radiating against yours driving you wild. “More, please,” you whisper begged, in a sultry tone.

“Want more, baby? Are you ready for me?” he teased while positioning himself at your entrance. “Hold on tight,” he murmured, giving you one last teasing kiss before shifting his weight, his hardened length pressing against your soft skin, ready to push inside you. The anticipation was mind-numbing, and you could hardly contain your excitement.

“Please, Joong,” you whimpered, feeling every inch of him as he hovered at your entrance, desire clouding your mind. “I need you.”

Wasting no time, he slowly began to push inside, stretching you deliciously. A gasp escaped your lips as he filled you, every inch sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good, baby” he breathed, sinking deeper and deeper; it was painfully pleasurable.

With a steady rhythm, he began to thrust, each movement earning soft moans from you. “Oh, Joong, yes!” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, encouraging him to go faster. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a sultry melody that resembled ATEEZ’s alluring and catchy beats.

He quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, guiding you to the edge. “You like that, baby?” he rasped, his voice low and filled with desire. You nodded, lost in the pleasure, the heat pooling in your core.

“I'm close, Joong” you breathed, your vision almost blurry, on the brink of seeing stars, both literally and figuratively. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your cries as the tension peaked.

“Cum for me, baby” he urged, his thrusts becoming merciless, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure washed over you as you cried out his name, your body trembling beneath him.

With a few more deep thrusts, his release came, a low “fuck” escaping his lips as he spilled inside you, pushing both of you over the edge. Those bath bombs and little deaths truly marked the end of you both, leaving you breathless and satisfied. Hearts racing, you lay together as the world around you faded, leaving only the sweet memory of the moment shared.

You checked the time on the wall clock; it was about 5:30 AM in the morning, the sun almost about to rise. After laying down together for a few more minutes, Hongjoong helped you clean up. The morning rays made their way into the bathroom from the large windows of your bedroom.

As you both stepped out of the bathroom, the morning sunrise greeted you both. Basking in the rays for a few seconds, Hongjoong said, “I love you, baby. I love you so much” as he looked at the sun outside, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body. “I love you too, Joong” you replied, a smile dancing across your lips as you reached to kiss his cheek. He smiled earnestly at you.

“And now we sleep, baby. I need my eight hours to handle Wooyoung’s tantrums in the office” he chuckled as he mentioned his teammate. A menance Wooyoung’s face crossed your mind. Closing the curtains, he dragged you onto the bed, and you both fell into a blissful sleep.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[mavrintarou]

[8:53 AM] Hatake Kakashi

Happy (belated) birthday to my first love in all of anime history

Warning: medium spice/smut

.

Kakashi was too old to be out after 10 PM.  He took one last shot with his friends and family and excused himself, leaving the bar.

He checked his phone, no new messages were waiting for him.

The message he sent twenty minutes ago was left unread and he knew without a doubt why.

There was only one place he wanted to be tonight and he headed straight there.

.

He found her exactly where he had expected. She was stretched out on the couch, lying on her stomach, nose deep in a book, with headphones over her ears, likely playing the music she’d chosen as the soundtrack to her novel.

Her phone was nowhere in sight, so it was no surprise to him she hadn’t responded to him.

As if sensing someone was staring at her, she slowly shifted her intense gaze off her book and turned her head, her eyes widened and she squealed. “Kakashi!” she shouted, a hand over her heart. “You scared me!” She chuckled and suddenly frowned, “what are you doing here?”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed onto her chest, seeing she was wearing an oversized shirt, her perky nipples erect against the materials. He could only guess why she was turned on from her book because it was hardly chilly. “I texted you.” He let himself in with the spare key she had given him. He approached her like a predator with their eyes locked on their prey. “Why didn’t you respond to me?”

Y/n quickly sat up on her knees, not before putting her bookmark in place before closing her book. She pulled off her headphones and set them aside before blinking and probably wondering where her phone was. “It’s charging in my room, I didn’t hear any notification through my headphones.”

Kakashi stood in front of her and cupped her jaw, tilting until their eyes connected. He loves her hazel eyes. With his height, she was at eye level with his hips. Her eyes dropped to his crotch and he growled, instantly hardening.

Her eyes shifted up towards his, “why are you here?”

“It’s my birthday,” he tells her, his thumb rubbing her jaw. “I wanted to see you…” he said what his heart longed to tell her.

“It’s your birthday?” Y/n’s tone is accusing as if she doesn’t believe him.

He reaches inside his back pocket and whips his wallet out at her.

With her jaw still in his grip, she snatches his wallet and opens it, seeing a wad of cash and cards and then his ID. “Well,” she looks up at him, “happy birthday Hatake Kakashi.” She hands his wallet back to him. “Should I feel special that you’re here with me on your birthday night?”

Kakashi’s eyes land on her lips and he hums. “You feel special even though I’m the birthday boy?”

He doesn’t take the wallet so she stuffs it inside his pocket. Her fingers hook around the loops of his belt and she tugs him closer. “Then, why have you disturbed me and my reading then? You shouldn’t have come if I didn’t respond to you. What if…” she looks up at him, “I was with someone else?”

His eyes narrowed, “are you with someone else?”

“Always with my book characters,” she answered teasingly. She jerks her jaw away, leans forward, and rests her forehead against his lower abdomen. Y/n let out a breath before turning her head to look up at him, “I thought we agreed we should stop seeing each other?”

Kakashi’s heart dropped and he sighed, he knew she would bring it up. He couldn’t help but hope she wouldn’t. That he could fuck her good and he could leave, like all the other times.

But the last time, three weeks ago, she dropped the bomb on him, wanting to end things between them.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” She said after he pulled up his pants. She tossed him his shirt. “Let this be the last time, okay?”

He’s done it more than once, ending things with other women, and never had a problem walking away. But he couldn’t help but feel like he was just punched in the guts by her words. “Okay,” he answered coldly, pulling his shirt on. He muttered before taking off, “take care, Y/n.”

And that was the last time they have spoken.

Kakashi’s hand slipped underneath her jaw and gently forced her to look up at him again. “I know, but I can’t stay away and I realize,” he swallowed, “I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”

 “What are you trying to say?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.

“That I’m in love with you, damn it.” He growled before dropping down and crouching in front of her. “I’m in love with you and I want to be with you, just you.” He declared softly, staring straight into her hazel eyes. “Tell me you want that too?”

Their relationship started as a one-night stand that eventually became multi-night stands. They both understood their needs for each other and sought out one another when their needs needed to be met.

Kakashi saw another woman aside from Y/n and over time, he realized he was beginning to see Y/n in her. He could no longer deny that his heart was making a spot for Y/n. Eventually, he cut all ties with this other woman and only focused on Y/n.

His career had him traveling far and constantly that he did not want to settle. He doesn’t know when things started changing, but he found himself wanting to be home more, wanting to just see her, wanting more relationship-related things. He stayed the night once and woke up with her in his arms and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt something so right.

Everything felt right with Y/n.

“Kakashi,” Y/n whispered, her eyes softened. “Are you sure? Are you sure… you I’m enough?”

He lets out a chuckle, “I should be asking you that, am I enough and worthy for you? Compared to your book boyfriends?”

She scrunches her nose and looks away thinking. “Some of them are debatable but want to know a secret?” She beckons her hand for him to come closer and leans to whisper in his ear, “you’re who I imagine in my books… with brown hair… black hair… it’s always you.”

Kakashi groans, his grip on her tightened. “You always know how to rile me up.”

“Stand up,” she murmurs with authority.

He raised a brow and stood up and his eyes bulged when she reached for his belt buckle. “What – what are you doing?”

She freed him, freed his cock out from his boxer briefs. “I want you – in my mouth.” She peered up at him beneath her lashes. Her hand fist around his cock, barely going wrapping around his cock as she brings the tip to her lips, rubbing his pre-cum along her lips. “These lips…” she kissed the tip, “or the other lips?” She reached to touch between her legs, no doubt rubbing herself.

“Both?” he asked, hopeful in his tone.

“Since it’s your birthday… I guess I’ll let you be greedy.” Her mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, her tongue swirling and lapping along the ridge of his cock. She could feel the veins against her tongue and took him further into her throat until she gagged.

Kakashi gaze down at her watching her choke on his cock as he combed his fingers through her air. Grabbing her face firmly, he began thrusting into her mouth, rocking his hips and groaning in pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum…” he announced and spills down her throat. He praised her, “good girl… my good girl…” he pulled out and watched some of it drip down the corner of her lips. “Always so good for me… no wonder… you stole my heart.” His thumb wipes away the residue and he licks it.

He hauls her over his shoulder and marches to her bedroom in one swift movement. His palm slaps across her ass, “now onto the other lips.”

Y/n giggles as she pushes her hands against his ass to hold herself upright. She gives his tocks a good squeeze, earning another slap to her ass from Kakashi. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

With a hand pressed behind her upper back and one wrapped around her knees, he gently lowered her down onto her bed. He crawled and straddled her, towering over her.

“I need the truth,” he rasped, “do you – do you want me for me… for 44-year-old me?” He pauses, to see her attention is all on him.

It made him uncomfortable when he discovered how she would give him all of her, sincerely and genuinely. He never had a woman want him for himself before until he met Y/n. She’d gazed at him and listened to him, wanting to know things that no one else bothered to ask. At first, Kakashi had no intention of keeping her around when she began wanting to know how his day went, and how work was going… he didn’t want to give her hopes of being a boyfriend. But she genuinely wanted to know his day, know who he was and he couldn’t deny her that. He longed to feel needed and not just be a distraction. He wanted permanent, not temporary.

“I have a demanding career there might be times I won’t see you for weeks on end,” he swallows the lump in his throat. “All my life, being in the military was all I needed and known… until you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Since meeting you, you rewired my entire existence and it scared me, scared me shitless.”

“Kakashi…”

“You’ve made me want to finish up my mission faster and safer… so that I can come back to you,” he admitted softly. “When you told me you wanted to end things with me, it destroyed me and I did what I did best… run. It wasn’t until the days got closer to my birthday that I had a reality slap, making me realize that I was going into another year of life, and for once, I wanted something different. I wanted to make a difference.”

He inhales softly, “I don’t know what I can give you, for sure my heart… and mind-blowing sex… but anything you want from me, I’ll give it to you. Just give me you too.” He rests his forehead against hers. “So, will you take me?”

Y/n’s fingers thread through his silver hair from the back of his neck. “I have fallen in love with you the moment you began reading my books with me…”

Kakashi let out a laugh, “they are good…” he paused and his eyes widened, “you love me?”

She nods, “yep, for a while.”

A soft breath exhales from his chest, “I don’t deserve you, but I want you still… tell me, do you want me? You still haven’t answered.”

“Always.”

“Okay, Professor Snape,” he teased, pressing his lips to hers. “Can I… take your offer on the other lips?” He slipped his hand inside her panties, feeling her wet sex. He slipped a finger inside, groaning. “Can I?” he eagerly asked.

“Yes, always…”

Looking into her eyes, he smiles, “no more fucking… just love-making…” he frowned at her pout, “what?”

“But I like your fucking though…”

He groaned, he loved her innocent dirty mouth. “You can have both – fucking-love-making…”

. . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 8: She's The Salt Of The Earth And She's Dangerous]

A/N: Be sure to vote in the poll pinned to the top of my blog AFTER you finish reading!!! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, RIP Jace (again).

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “She's A Rebel” by Green Day.

Word count: 7.4k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“I’m sorry if I was a creep when we first met,” Aegon says. He’s been oddly philosophical since he was burned. “I hadn’t seen a hot single chick in a while, and I wanted to fuck you.”

Cregan siphoned just enough gas from a decrepit Chrysler Sebring in Merna to take the Tahoe two and a half hours west to Little Thunder Bay Campground on the shores of Lake McConaughy, a manmade reservoir and New Deal project from the 1930s. You glance over at Aegon dubiously, amused. “Do I count as hot?”

“Yeah, Chippendales, you’re hot. In like a…you live in a cabin and knit sweaters by a crackling fireplace kind of way.”

You smile. “So you got over that.”

“Oh no, I still want to fuck you. Now I just know you better, so I wouldn’t want to offend you by being obnoxious about it.”

“That’s sweet, I guess. I appreciate your discretion.”

“No problem. If you ever decide you want to take a ride on a less distinguished Targaryen brother, let me know.”

The two of you are fishing from a boat launch, dry splintering planks of wood, opaque rippling water, soft wind and bright sunshine from an aquamarine, cloudless sky. Cregan found the fishing poles in the abandoned RV you’ve moved into, a Winnebago Spirit with one of those stick figure family decals on the back window, Mom, Dad, four lovely children and a dog too, all of whom are perhaps alive but more likely dead and in any case nowhere to be found here in this tranquil corner of western Nebraska, 150 miles from the Wyoming border. Helaena digs worms from the earth, then Rhaena slices them into wriggling segments with a hunting knife and brings them to you and Aegon to be impaled on barbed hooks. Aemond, Rio, Daeron, Luke, and Cregan are swimming about twenty yards down the beach, soaked boxer shorts and nothing else, splashing each other and scrubbing the grime off their skin from a morning spent gathering wood for the firepit and the grill; Ice is paddling joyfully alongside them. Baela floats on her back and peers vacantly up into the vast blue nothingness. Aegon is not permitted in the water, as his leg is an open wound beneath his bandages. You ask him as you recast your fishing line: “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

You shrug, smirking guiltily. You thought it was obvious.

Aegon throws back his head and cackles, slow and lazy. “Oh, I get it. A loser.”

“I didn’t say loser.”

“You thought loser.”

“I implied loser.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been called worse things by people I admire much less.” He contemplates his answer as he gazes down into the water, sluggish stoned reverie. Aemond must be almost out of morphine by now. At last Aegon says: “I think the first thing I ever learned was that no matter how hard I tried, no one was ever going to love me. Not in a normal kind of way, Disney movie love, Christmas rom-com love. So I stopped trying. Mother wanted me to play piano, so I bombed the recital. Father wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, so I skipped class, went golfing and yachting, didn’t even bother to pay someone to write halfway decent essays for me. If they couldn’t love me unconditionally, I wasn’t interested in meeting their conditions.” Then he chuckles, the breeze combing through his hair, ninety degrees and only getting hotter. “I refused to work. All you’ve ever done is work. You must hate me.”

“No, I get it.” You reel in your line; a fish has stolen the worm from your hook, tiny clandestine nibbles. You impale a slimy new victim and recast. “No one wants to be used.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I wasn’t going to spend my life doing shit I didn’t want to do so my parents could brag about me to their insufferable friends and absolve themselves of their mistakes. Mother married a man who didn’t give a fuck about her, Father ignored us all. Me being a success story would have given them the impression they did something right. I couldn’t have that.”

So Aemond had to be the success story instead. You glance down the beach at where he is bursting through the water and slicking back his dripping hair from his face, showing Luke a bone he found in the muddy silt of Lake McConaughy, hopefully not human.

Aegon follows your eyeline. “Aemond went the other way, I guess. Always so pathetically desperate for their approval. Scrabbling for crumbs of it like a rat. That’s what the thing with Alys was all about, it’s the only explanation I have. Older woman, surrogate mother, comforting but chilly, fawning but forbidden, always keeping him at an arm’s length and rewarding his tricks with treats.” He smirks flirtatiously, then sees that he’s hurt you. “Oh, um, I mean…look, it wasn’t…it wasn’t a good thing, you know? He wasn’t happy. It was a seven-year-long psychotic episode, not a relationship.”

“You mentioned that Criston likes Aemond,” you say, pivoting. “The…what is he? A family friend, an assistant?”

“My mother’s personal security guard. And yeah, he cares about Aemond. He’s proud of him, he trust him, he thinks he’s more capable than any of the rest of us, and that’s probably true. It’s definitely true compared to me. But that doesn’t mean Criston always knows how to express it.”

You look out over the water, trying not to imagine Aemond touching Alys, this woman you hate without knowing her face. You wonder if he ever wishes you were more like her: older, clever, entrancing, masterful. “It must have been a strange way to grow up.”

“Cold,” Aegon says. “Hollow. Holidays, birthdays, vacations, everything. You go through the motions but something’s always missing. When you’re little, you think it’s your fault, and then eventually you realize that they’re going to be miserable whether you’re there or not. But you can get out if you’re willing to run far enough.” He scratches at his forearm, and your eyes catch fleetingly on the black ink of his tattoo: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground. You had told Rio something similar when you were stranded on that transmission tower in Catawissa, Pennsylvania. “This is fucked up, and I don’t mean that I don’t feel bad about what happened to Jace, and I get that millions of people have died agonizing deaths, and that all sucks, believe me, I know, but this…” He gestures vaguely, to the zombies and the desolation and the collapse of everything you’ve ever known. “It was kind of my Get Out Of Jail Free card. And in a weird way…sometimes I feel like I’ve been happier since the world ended than I ever was before.”

You smile. You know what he means. “Even if your leg gets infected and we have to saw it off without anesthesia like you’re a Civil War soldier?”

Aegon laughs and shakes his head, his hair flopping around. It’s almost long enough for him to have a man bun like Cregan’s if he wanted one “No, probably not. Also, what’s the Civil War?”

“Forget it.”

“No, now I want to know.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Aemond said something interesting this morning while you were picking blackberries with our favorite Trump supporter,” Aegon tells you, salacious and sly, offering a tantalizing morsel he knows you’re powerless to refuse. He pauses and waits for you to admit it to yourself.

“Fine. Okay. What?”

“He said that when you and Cregan are standing next to each other, you look like you belong together.”

You groan, quite loudly. “I have zero interest in Cregan romantically. Literally zero. I don’t think he sees me that way either.”

Aegon shrugs. “The dating pool is awfully small nowadays, Banana Chip. Anyone who’s not a corpse or an immediate blood relative starts to look tasty.”

“So that’s why you like me.”

Aegon grins, teeth he shows often and easily, so unlike Aemond in every way. “No. I think I’d like you anywhere.” He tugs languidly on his fishing pole. “I want a new golf club.” He forgot his at the house in Broken Bow where Jace died.

“We’ll see.”

“I want new shoes too.” One of his Sperry Bahama sneakers was burned beyond repair and filled with shreds of his own singed flesh, scraps like soft bacon fused with the padding and insole. “And some polos.”

“I’m not a Big Lots.”

“Who the fuck shops at Big Lots?” Aegon’s fishing line jerks, and he yanks hard on the pole before reeling in his catch. Suspended at the end is a long green creature, yellowish spots and a villainous angular face. “That is one ugly bitch.”

“It’s a pike,” you say, and then when you grab it you observe that the misfortunate fish has the barb of the hook piercing not through its lip but one of its bulging, glassy eyes. “Oh my God!”

Aegon squeals, horrified. He offers no meaningful assistance. “That’s so gross, that’s so gross, what are we going to do?!”

“We have to, like, I don’t know, grab the back of the hook from inside its mouth and pull it out of the eyeball, I guess…?!”

“Yeah, awesome. Good luck with that.”

You reach tentatively into the pike’s gaping mouth. Its jaws snap shut, needlelike teeth stinging your wrist. “Ow!”

“Cregan!” Aegon bellows. “Cregan, help!”

Now the others are running to the boat launch to see what’s going on, Helaena and Rhaena from the shore, everyone else from the lake, Luke helping Baela wring the water from her sundress and Ice galloping alongside Cregan. He gets a look at the pike and guffaws, loud and rumbling.

“Poor little guy. That’s some bad luck he’s got.”

“Can you get the hook out?” you ask, eager to surrender the fish, which is still thrashing franticly and gnashing its teeth, mindless cold-blooded death throes.

“Of course I can.” Cregan plucks the pike from your grasp, shoves his massive hand into its mouth, and rips the hook out with one effortless maneuver. The pike is freed, but its eyeball remains speared on the hook. Then Cregan spies blood on your wrist. “You okay there, Miss Chips?”

“Oh yeah. I’m fine.”

“Freaking disgusting, man,” Aegon mutters; he and Rio are ogling the disembodied eyeball, complete with a frayed optic nerve like a tail, with identical, stunned revulsion.

You turn to smile up at Aemond, but he doesn’t notice you. He is staring at Cregan, his sole blue eye narrow and fixed and flat like still water.

~~~~~~~~~~

“The closest town is Ogallala,” Aegon says as he lays his map across the wooden picnic table. The rest of you are seated around him and picking flaky white meat from between the thin, fragile bones of the pike, which Cregan has gutted and cooked on the large metal grill that careless camping families once roasted marshmallows and hotdogs over. Helaena is at the edge of the table and writing in her spider notebook, elegant loops of cursive. Ice is lying on her belly and gnawing on a rabbit she killed for herself, its doomed black eyes gazing up at you.

“That has to be what, ten miles south?” Rio says apprehensively.

Aegon licks grease from his fingers. “Yup. A little more, probably.”

“What about Lemoyne?” Daeron says, pointing. “Or Keystone, or even Belmar? They’re all closer.”

“See how small the names are written?” Aegon tells him. “That means they’re not actual communities. They’re like a few stop signs and maybe a Dollar General and that’s it.”

“I love Dollar General,” Cregan says, nostalgic. “Man, do y’all remember Chicken in a Biskit? I used to park myself in front of the tv and eat boxes and boxes—”

“It has to be Ogallala,” Aemond insists. “We need pharmacies and grocery stores and cars to siphon gas from, we need a real town.”

Rhaena chews her lower lip anxiously. “The Tahoe is empty. We have maybe half a gallon left and that’s it. Just enough to get down to Ogallala if we’re lucky, but not back.”

“So we’ll drive until it dies and then we’ll walk. Cregan has a gas can in the back, if we find fuel we can bring some back to the Tahoe and continue from there.”

“Walk, huh?” Aegon says, looking down at his bandaged left leg, which he can’t put any weight on. He gets around by hopping, leaning against other people (oftentimes against their will), and being carried by Rio.

“Well, you’re not going,” Aemond tells him. “And Baela isn’t either.”

Baela, gazing blankly down at the map, says nothing. A brown striped snake darts through the grass only a few feet from the picnic table, moving swiftly towards the lake, and there are alarmed gasps and yelps.

“Northern water snake,” Helaena says, glancing up from her notebook. “Not venomous.”

“Good,” Rhaena replies with a shudder.

Luke says fearfully as he reads the map: “Aemond, last time we went into a town that big was Broken Bow, and…Jace…the farmhouse…”

Aemond slams his fists down on the table. “We have to, okay? We need food and water. We need bullets. I need more pain meds and bandages for Aegon, I need antiseptic and Neosporin, and Vaseline for when he’s healing, and supplies for when Baela goes into labor too, since I’ve had to use everything I had saved.”

“We need pads and tampons too,” Helaena says as she examines the black-ink inventory in her notebook. “And Advil, lip balm, bars of soap, hair ties, and socks and underwear. And that green jelly aloe vera stuff for Aegon’s sunburn.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Aemond agrees. “We need a lot of things. And we have to refuel so we can keep moving west.”

“We could stay here,” Baela says, so softly that at first you aren’t sure if you heard her right.

“What, Baela?” Rhaena asks gently.

“I want to stay here.” Baela is more resolute now. “I want to have the baby here.”

Nobody knows how to respond. Rio gives you a troubled glance. You nod in agreement, so subtly you doubt anyone else notices. Not an option.

Aemond is calm but unwavering. “Baela, I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

She pleads her case. “I like the Winnebago. I like the lake. I’m comfortable here, and we’re out in the middle of nowhere, and I…I think we could make this our home for a while, now that we’ve found someplace like this. Someplace quiet and safe.”

“We’re not safe here, Baela,” Aemond says. “It feels like we’re safe, but we’re not. We aren’t a big enough group to reliably be able to defend ourselves. We don’t have adequate supplies. We have a lake to our backs, sure, but the rest of the shoreline is open for anybody to walk right into, and our visibility is blocked by trees. No one has stumbled across us yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. And if they do we’re extremely vulnerable. But when we get to the west coast, we’ll be home.”

“I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being afraid.”

“I understand. I am too.”

“It’s different,” Baela says, abruptly fierce. “You don’t know what this feels like. None of you do. I’ve never given up and I’ve never asked to be taken care of, I’ve always been the strong one, but I’m so goddamn tired, and I want to have my baby here, and I…I…” Her large dark eyes are glistening, haunted. “Every time we’re driving I feel like I see him sitting next to me, or standing out in the middle of the road, and then I have to remember what happened all over again, and…I just…I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Rhaena takes Baela’s hands in her own, skims her thumbs across Baela’s knuckles; Luke rubs her back reassuringly. The rest of you can only offer silent, pitying looks. There are no easy answers, no fortuitous gold strikes, no shortcuts. The only way out is through.

“Whatever you guys decide, I’m leaving either way,” Rio says. “Sophie’s waiting for me in Oregon. I can’t just hang out in Nebraska forever. I’ll walk if I have to.”

“It’s over a thousand miles,” Aegon tells him.

“Doesn’t matter, man. I gotta do it.”

You add: “Obviously, I’d have to go with Rio.”

Both Aemond and Aegon appear startled. “We’ll be on the road again soon,” Aemond promises. “Tomorrow, if we can find gas in Ogallala.”

“I’m not going,” Baela whispers.

“We have to, Baela,” Rhaena implores. “It’ll be alright. We’ll take care of you, and the baby too when the time comes.”

Baela stands, strides to the Winnebago, disappears inside and slams the door behind her.

“She’ll be okay,” Rhaena tells the rest of you. “She’s…you know, she’s shaken up. She’s not thinking clearly. But she’ll realize this was the right decision. The only decision, really.”

“It’s best if we can get set up somewhere permanent before she goes into labor,” Aemond says, as if he’s defending himself. “Traveling with a baby…Baela recovering…it would be very dangerous for all of us.”

“Luke and I are thinking the same things, Aemond. We agree with you.”

He gives Rhaena an appreciative smile, very small but sincere. Then he turns to Daeron. “Baela and Aegon will have to wait here when I go south to Ogallala, since they can’t walk in the event the Tahoe runs out of gas. You’re going to stay behind to protect them.”

“Got it,” Daeron says soberly. All the bullets are gone; his compound bow, fed with arrows fashioned from sticks, is the best weapon you have left. Cregan has his axe, Rio still prefers to bash skulls with the butt of his Remington shotgun, everyone else must make do with hunting knives from that cellar back in Pennsylvania and kayak paddles found here at Lake McConaughy.

Aemond looks around the table. “I’ll need Rio, Cregan, and Luke.”

“And our beloved furball Blue Raspberry Icee,” Aegon says, smirking. “To sniff out any zombies.”

“Yes. Ice too.”

“What about me?” you say, staring incredulously at Aemond.

“Not you. You’re staying here in the RV.”

“If you and Rio are going, I’m going.”

“No, you’re not,” Aemond says. “You’re the best shot, and we all agree about that, but we’re fresh out of bullets. You therefore have no advantage tactically.”

“What’s Luke’s advantage?”

There are awkward chuckles. Aemond leaves the picnic table and gestures for you to follow him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Why?”

Aemond doesn’t answer; he keeps walking until he’s hidden amongst a small grove of Kentucky coffeetrees, oval emerald leaves and umber seed pods that hang from branches, reminding you of skate egg cases—what some people call mermaid’s purses—you once found washed up on the beach outside Djibouti City. Rio teases you: “Ohhh, you’re in troubleee…”

You swat him on the back of the head; his hair is getting long too, dark curls that flutter in the breeze that comes in off the lake, hot and humid, the infinite wildness of July. “If I’m not going, you have to swear that you’ll—”

“I got it, I got it,” Rio says, blasé and jolly. “I’ll look underneath things, I’ll look on top of things, I’ll look everywhere. Okay?”

Aegon kicks him with his good foot. “Get me a golf club.”

“I’m not a Dick’s!”

“Dicks?! Who brought up dicks, you sicko…?!”

You go after Aemond and meet him in the shade, an island of twilight in the omnipotent golden morning. He pushes you against one of the Kentucky coffeetrees—rough bark to your back, prodding you through your t-shirt—and nuzzles your throat as he presses his hips to yours, blissful clandestine surrender as your knees weaken and you gaze dizzily up into the canopy of leaves.

You sigh: “This is not an explanation. This is a distraction. A very enjoyable one, but a distraction nonetheless.”

“Daeron is good with a bow, but he’s young,” Aemond murmurs. “I need you to help him protect the others.”

“You’ve managed to make this sound like a promotion.”

“And,” Aemond continues. “When things get risky and chaotic, and I’m trying to make sure everyone is safe…I find you being around to be…distracting.”

“Rio doesn’t think I’m a distraction.”

He chuckles, avoidant. “That’s not an equivalent situation.”

“I get that Luke has binoculars, but I am also perfectly capable of using binoculars, and I could borrow his and he could stay here. I really don’t think he’d mind being benched, he’d probably prefer it—”

“I always ask you to stay near Rio, and you never do, and then I have to worry about you getting lost or bitten or imperiled in any one of a million other ways.”

“Because it’s not that simple! Rio gets it, I have to be able to improvise—”

Suddenly, Aemond pulls away and asks: “Do you trust me?”

You are bewildered. “What?”

“Because I could understand if you don’t.”

You search his scarred face; he has that look like he’s trying not to reveal too much of himself, to show that he’s nervous or vulnerable or afraid. You touch your palm to his ravaged cheek, your voice soft. “I trust you, Aemond.”

He seems relived. “Good. Then please stay here.”

“You’ll watch out for Rio?” you say threateningly.

“Of course.”

“And yourself too.”

He grins, those small secretive teeth he loves to hide. “That’s the plan.”

“And you’ll check under things and on top of things, and you’ll remember what I said about the racks? When you go into stores and you’re rummaging through—?”

Aemond kisses you, warm and slow and kind, the curve of his lips pleased and mischievous. “It’s flattering that you’re so concerned.”

“And don’t forget the pads and tampons.”

His scarred eyebrow rises half an inch. “Oh?”

“I’m already having pre-period cramps. I’ll need supplies in a few days.”

“You’ll have them. Don’t fear.” Then he studies you, concerned, his brow furrowing and his palm testing your cheek and forehead. “You feeling okay? You’re sure that’s all it is?”

“Oh yeah, totally. It’s very routine at this point, I’ve had a decade to get accustomed.”

“Alright. If there’s anything else you think of before we head out, I’ll add it to the list.” He takes your hand and examines the shallow scratches left on your wrist by the needlelike teeth of the pike. “Let me clean and wrap that up for you. I think I have just enough bandages left.”

“Your worst nightmare came true,” you joke. “I was bitten after all.”

Aemond doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s long after nightfall and you and Aegon are keeping watch just outside the Winnebago Spirit, slumped in folding camping chairs people once told their legends from: scary stories, workplace grievances, familial mythology. In the firepit, logs split and pop, and embers glow a bloody red. You’re waiting for the Tahoe to return and trying not to think about the possibility it might not.

“These suck,” Aegon says, garbled by a mouthful of Cheddar Whales, grimacing at the bright blue box. “Why do you and Rio eat these? They’re like…dodgy Goldfish.”

“Are you kidding?! They’re way better than Goldfish! Goldfish don’t taste like anything.”

“And Cheddar Whales taste like salty cardboard. The American Dream.” Aegon passes the box back to you. “They better come back with some SpaghettiOs or Rice-A-Roni or something. I can’t survive on Cregan’s overcooked fish.” He lights a Marlboro Gold cigarette by sticking it into the fire and takes a deep drag, looking up at the stars. Aemond gave him the last of the morphine before he left, and Aegon is floating on a feathery, narcotic cloud.

You say after at last working up the nerve: “So you’re a slut, right?”

He snickers, firelight dancing on his sunburned face. “Slut, loser, you’ve got me all figured out.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a slut. Why?”

“Have you ever had trouble…” Your hands flail around aimlessly; it’s so awkward to say out loud. “You know…getting it in?”

“No, not really. But I’m hung like a hamster.” He looks over at you, curious shimmering stoned blue eyes. “Technical difficulties, Chip And Dip? Not enough dipping going on?”

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re probably just nervous. Aemond’s a doctor, he’d be able to tell if you had something wonky down there, like those chicks who are born without a vagina. Or with two vaginas. Jesus Christ, can you imagine the possibilities? Why can’t I meet someone like that?”

You stare into the fire, discouraged. “I’m going to ruin everything.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Aemond will assume it’s his fault. He thinks everything is his fault.”

Through the darkness, you spot headlights bobbing as the Tahoe approaches on bumpy dirt roads. “Oh, thank God. They’re back.”

“About time. If Rio didn’t find me a new golf club, I’m going to drown him in the lake.”

“He could break you in half.”

“But he wouldn’t.”

“No.”

“Because he likes me too much.”

“Right.”

“Maybe you like me too,” Aegon says as he exhales smoke, his glazed eyes listing to you, his grin crooked and drowsy. “Just a little bit.”

You smile reluctantly. “I might.”

“Cool.” He beams up at the stars, and then says again: “Cool.”

As the massive SUV rolls to a halt, the headlights cascading over you and so bright they’re nearly blinding, you notice the red letters on the grill: GMC. “That’s not the Tahoe,” you say, panicked.

“What? Then who is it?”

“I don’t know.” You stand up, instinctively reaching for one of your M9s; but they’re both empty. All the guns are. Your hand drops to your side.

Aegon, unable to rise on his own, remains in his chair and grips the armrests tightly. He whispers: “Should we go inside…?!”

“They’ve already seen us. But they don’t know who’s in the RV.” Rhaena, Baela, Helaena. With a shiver like a bolt of cold lightning, you recall what Aemond said at the bowling alley back in Shenandoah, Ohio: I don’t want them to know we have women with us.

The GMC Yukon is still running when two men step out, the headlights disorientingly bright. They are both armed, you see immediately, pistols that you’d guess are Colts. Aegon’s hand juts out and closes around your forearm as the strangers approach. They are both young, maybe twenty, and wearing jeans, camo jackets, and baseball hats like they’re going hunting. They stand in the yellow-white glow of the headlights as they watch you.

“Hi,” you say congenially, forcing a smile.

The men glance at each other, then one greets you with a nod. “Howdy.”

“We’re set up here,” you say. “But it’s a big campground. You’re welcome to any of the other spots.”

The man who spoke earlier chuckles and scratches at his short beard. You steal a glimpse back at Aegon: his eyes are huge and horrified.

“It’s real quiet on the lake,” you continue. “We haven’t had any problems, and we’ve been here a few days. It’s a good place. We’re happy to share it. We don’t…” You deliberate what words to use. “We aren’t interested in making trouble. We just want to be left alone.”

The man replies: “I camped here every single summer growing up, learned to fish here, swam in the water with my cousins, brought my girlfriends here to fuck. And now you’re inviting me to stay? You’re not from here. I can tell by your accent. This is my backyard. You’re the one who should be asking for permission.”

Aegon is making a low, whimpering sound; his fingernails are digging into the defenseless, downy underside of your forearm. “We don’t have anything of value,” you say, your voice trembling.

“Uh huh.” The stranger’s gaze flicks to the Winnebago.

“We found it. There’s no gas, no keys. Two of the tires are flat. It’s just shelter.”

“Who else is in the RV?”

“No one.”

The second man is squinting at Aegon. “Is he a cripple?”

“He was burned. That’s why we’re resting here for a while, so he can heal.”

The first man points to the bandage on your wrist. “Did you try to kill yourself? My neighbor did that when her kid got eaten. Slit her veins open out in the middle of the street. Bad scene.”

“I got mauled by a fish,” you reply numbly.

He laughs, a slow, rolling, mocking sort of sound, not taking his eyes off you. Then they drop to the Beretta M9s you have holstered at your waist. “Are those loaded?”

“Yes.”

He signals to the nearest Kentucky coffeetree. “Prove it. Shoot that tree.” You stare at its trunk, stark in the headlights of the strangers’ SUV. Long seconds tick by, the only sound the idling of the engine and the crackling of the firepit. “You can’t,” the man says, grinning. “Because you’re out of bullets. But I’m not.”

He raises his pistol and fires, a thunderclap, a mechanical roar. A small circular wound appears in the tree. Aegon shrieks and tries to stand; he tumbles to the earth when the raw, weeping flesh beneath his bandages betrays him. The RV door flies open and Daeron is the first one out, clutching his compound bow but still blinking his way out of the dreams he was jolted from. He won’t be able to nock one of his makeshift arrows before they shoot him.

“What the hell’s going on—?!”

“Drop it!” the stranger shouts, and both he and his companion aim their pistols at Daeron. He freezes. Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena exit the RV and begin screaming, clinging to each other.

“Do what they ask,” you tell Daeron, trying to remain calm. With great hesitancy, he sets his bow on the earth and puts his empty palms in the air. There are hunting knives inside the RV, you think. Where did we store them? In a drawer, in a cabinet?

The men are now herding you all into the RV, jabbing the barrels of their pistols against your backs and bellies. “Let’s go, everybody in,” the first one says. The second man hooks an arm forcefully under one of Aegon’s and drags him through the threshold, Aegon yowling as his burned leg smacks against the doorframe. The second man forces Aegon and Daeron to kneel on the floor at the front of the RV near the driver’s seat; the other one arranges the women at gunpoint, instructing you to squeeze together to sit in a row on the floral couch. Helaena—farthest from you and closest to the kitchenette booth—is sobbing and covering her ears. Rhaena appears to be hyperventilating. Baela’s head is held high, her face furious and defiant.

Aemond, Rio, Cregan, please come back…

“Now this is interesting,” the first man is saying to his friend. He uses his pistol to indicate to each of you. “We’ve got G.I. Jane, this delicate little sweetheart, a pregnant lady, and Cinderella. Where should we begin…?”

You glance at Rhaena, catch her wide frenzied eyes, then look meaningfully at the drawers across the aisle near the kitchenette stove and sink. Knife? you mouth.

It takes her a moment to realize what you mean, then she inclines her head, an elusive nod. She remembers where they are, where they were stored once she cleaned them this afternoon in the lake water. That’s good; but in order for Rhaena to grab a large serrated hunting knife, the men will need to be distracted.

“There’s a bed in the back,” the second man is saying. “I can see it from here, down the hallway…”

Your gaze is darting around the Winnebago. Aegon is yelling something; the second man pistol-whips him, fortunately not hard enough to fracture his skull.

“Don’t worry,” the first man tells Aegon, background noise you try to ignore as you search for an opportunity. “You’ll get to watch…”

Helaena is trying to get your attention, staring at you with her wide, gleaming blue eyes. You furrow your brow at her, not understanding…and then you see the burlap strap she’s looped around her wrist. Her messenger bag must be in the kitchenette booth beside her. And as you watch, and only for a second, she arranges her fingers in the shape of a gun.

The Ruger, you realize, amazed, that tiny revolver she was always so repelled by. Helaena never used it, but she still has it. And it’s loaded.

Baela is arguing with the men, words you tune out. Helaena points to you, but you shake your head. There’s no way for her to get the Ruger to you without them seeing. You mouth to Helaena, your face severe: You have to do it. Then you look to the first man, presently waving his pistol in Baela’s face.

“I’d like to go first,” you say casually, and all the noise stops.

“No, no, no, I’ll do it,” Aegon tells the men. “You want a blowjob? You want to fuck me in the ass? I’m down. I’m not scared of no dick. I experimented in college.”

Both strangers burst into hysterical laughter. “That’s a mighty generous offer,” the second one says, swiping a tear from his eye. “But that’s not the team we’re on, is it, Wesley?”

The first man, Wesley, is smiling down at you. His gaze sweeps over your body, from your bare feet to your eyes, calm and level. “Why do you want to go first, darling?”

Shoot him, Helaena. Shoot him right now. “I’ve never done it before. I figure I should give it a try before it’s too late.”

Helaena whips the Ruger out of her burlap messenger bag and opens fire. She winces each time it goes off, and her aim is terrible; bullets pierce the ceiling and the walls, striking nowhere near Wesley or his accomplice, but their panicked ducking buys valuable seconds. Daeron and Aegon tackle the man closest to them and wrestle the pistol from his hands. Aegon presses the barrel to his skull, pulls the trigger, kills him instantly. Rhaena flies to one of the drawers and yanks out a hunting knife ten inches long. She buries it in Wesley’s throat, the blade disappearing until the hilt rests on his collarbone. When she rips it free, scarlet blood jets from his severed carotid artery, spraying you, soaking you. Blood is in your eyes and nostrils, hot coppery carnage; when you scream, you can taste it in your mouth.

People are reaching for you and telling you to calm down, that they’ll help you, but you can’t wait. You use your t-shirt to mop as much of the blood as you can from your face and bolt through the door of the RV, running towards the lake. You drop to your knees on the sand and splash yourself, cool moonlit rivulets that wash the blood away. You’re trembling, you’re crying, and when somebody grabs you by the arm you scream and strike out at them, clawing like an animal.

“It’s me,” Aemond says, and only then do you get a good look at him, blood and lake water beading on your eyelashes. He’s wiping blood off your face with his palms, he’s inspecting you for fresh wounds. “Don’t fight, it’s me, it’s me, whose blood is this, what happened—?!”

“You were right,” Baela says to Aemond from where she stands on the sand, a hand resting on her belly. Drifting from the RV are the voices of the others who have just returned: Rio, Cregan, Luke. “We’re not safe here.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, rain falls as you lie entangled with Aemond in the attic bedroom of a ranch house in Red Desert, Wyoming, flashing lightning and flickering candles illuminating bare skin. You are kissing feverishly, your hands all over each other, and Aemond is pushing himself into you; or, rather, he is trying to. There is pain, and you can feel your body turning treasonous, rejecting him, shrinking away from him, fearing that you’ll never be able to satisfy him.

No, no no no…

His voice is hushed and gentle as his lips brush your ear. “Hey, you’re shaking, why are you shaking?”

“I’m okay, I’m fine, keep going.” And then, when he stops: “No, Aemond, don’t—”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You have to. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Instead, he lies down beside you and turns your face to his, fingerprints on the slope of your jaw. He asks again, more firmly: “Why are you shaking?”

All the walls and arches of you collapse, stones tumbling to crack against the earth. You are suddenly fighting tears. Your words come out in a whisper. “I want this to be real.”

He studies your face, distressed. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to lose you. I never thought I’d have something like this and now I’m so afraid of fucking it up.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what Jace thought.”

Aemond pulls you against his chest and holds you as you sink through him into dark, cold, watery dreams, and doesn’t make any more promises he can’t keep.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What time is it on the East Coast right now?” you ask Rio. It’s May and almost a hundred degrees every day in Djibouti City—arid, rainless, sun glare and dust that sting your eyes—so the Navy has you building at night when they won’t have to deal with quite so many Seabees dropping over from heatstroke. Outside the day is turning to a soft lavender dusk and your shift will begin soon. You are dressed—sand-colored t-shirt, camo pants, work boots—and toweling off your hair, still wet from the shower.

Rio is sprawled across the floor of your room, taking up almost all of it; housing at Camp Lemonnier consists of converted shipping containers, each outfitted with its own perpetually whirring air conditioning unit. He is reading Fifty Shades Of Grey. “Like seven hours behind here, so early afternoon, I guess.” Then he looks up at you, suspicious. “Why?”

“I should probably call.”

“Should you really?”

“I want to. I’ll feel guilty if I don’t.”

Rio shakes his head and returns his attention to his reading material. “I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

“You love telling me what to do.”

“I wish you loved listening.” He flips a page, puzzled. “Why the fuck does Sophie like this book so much…?”

You open Facebook Messenger on your phone and make a call. The wifi isn’t good for videos, but old-fashioned audio calls usually work okay. There is an answer on the fourth ring.

“Yeah?” she says, and you can hear the entire house when she turns on speakerphone: the squeaking of the recliner, the droning of a talk show, indistinct speech and chuckling from other people, glass—cups, bottles, baking dishes, ashtrays—clinking sharply.

“Hi, Mama! Happy Mother’s Day!”

“Aw, ain’t you sweet to call.” And you are testing her voice like water from a tap, icy cold, hot enough to scald. At the moment, Mama sounds perfectly lukewarm. “I didn’t count on hearing from you. I know how busy you are.”

That’s a landmine that you step gingerly around. “We definitely have a lot going on here, and there’s the time difference and everything…but I wanted to make sure to say hi, even if I can’t talk for long. What are you up to today?”

“Oh, nothing much.” You hear her smoking: breathe in, breathe out, a cunning sort of pause as she decides how to proceed. Of course there were no extravagant festivities planned. Nothing ever felt like a real holiday at home: Mama getting sloshed and burning the turkey on Thanksgiving, Christmas presents that had to be returned for grocery and gas money, fistfights and doors ripped off hinges on New Year’s Eve. You had decided years ago that Hallmark channel magic was pure fiction…but sometimes you get glimpses of it now. Thanksgiving dinner in some unceremonious chow hall with Rio and your other friends feels more like a holiday than anything else you’ve ever known. “You still in Africa?”

“It’s Djibouti, Mama, I told you. It’s on the Horn. Across the sea is Yemen and Saudi Arabia.”

“Why can’t they put y’all to work in your own goddamn country?”

“Well, we do that too sometimes.” You stall, listening to her smoking. Rio glances up at you from where he’s still reading on the floor. “They have some incredible beaches here. Yesterday morning we went down to the water and there were all these cute kids playing, and they only spoke French but Rio showed them how to play tic-tac-toe by drawing a board in the sand—”

“I like the beach,” she says, and you know you’ve made a mistake. “You remember that?”

Deflated now: “Yeah, Mama. I remember. Are the boys going to take you to Virginia Beach this summer?”

She scoffs. “We’ll see, but I doubt it. It’s expensive, girl.”

You sigh deeply. Rio was right. I shouldn’t have called. “We talked about this. I need to be saving up to get my own house one day, and my own car, and all those things I’ll need to have a life when I get out of the Navy—”

“And what about my house?!” Mama cries, damn near wails. “I’m gonna lose it! I can’t make the payments!”

You reply calmly: “Mama, that’s your house. That’s your business. And you’ve got more than one kid still living at home long after they’ve turned eighteen, so they need to be the people you’re asking to help, not me.”

“You’re gonna let your Mama be homeless? Is that what you called to tell me on Mother’s Day? What the hell kind of daughter are you?”

“I got out!” you shout into the phone, and Rio is scrambling off the floor to rush to you. “I’m learning things and I’m making money and I’m building schools and hospitals on the other side of the fucking planet, and you can’t be proud of me because you think it means you’ve failed, but the truth is that you could have gotten out too! All of you could have! But you didn’t, it was me, it was just me, and now you hate me for it!”

“You need to come home now,” Mama says. “You gotta take care of me, take care of your Mama. You only got one and she needs you, so you gotta heed me. That’s what’s right.”

“I am not going to spend the rest of my life watching you get wasted in that filthy house, and I’d work where, at the Dollar General? At Arby’s? And get knocked up by the first guy who shows any interest?”

“You’re giving me heart palpitations. I’m gonna have to go to the emergency room and it’s all your fault.”

Rio is whispering into your other ear, one of his massive palms resting on the back of your neck: “Just hang up. It’s not worth it. You can hang up, just hang up…”

“I want things to be normal,” you tell Mama, you plead, tears stinging in your eyes. “I’ve tried so hard to get along with everyone, and help you as much as I can, but no matter what I do it’s not enough, and you’re always mad at me, and you’re always fighting with me—”

“You’re damn right I’m fighting with you, because you’re a spiteful, selfish child.”

“Hang up,” Rio is murmuring. “Hang up, hang up, hang up…”

“Mama,” you say, your voice strangled. “I’m sorry. I have to go now.”

“When I’m homeless, you know you got no one but yourself to blame—”

You hit the red button to end the call, throw your phone down onto the bed, stare at the wall and swallow noisily, choking back sobs. You won’t let yourself cry. You’ve cried enough for them already. You have to keep moving forward. The only way out is through. “You were right,” you say to Rio at last, quiet and raspy. Your hands are trembling. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“Hey.” He grabs your face roughly, forces you to look at him with your miserable shimmering eyes, grins hugely. “I’m your mom now, bitch.”

You laugh as tears spill down your cheeks, let him bury you in one of his smothering bear hugs, cling to him like a life raft in a storm.

[dreamwatch]

Kick 'em When They're Up

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Prompt: Band on the run | Word Count: 997 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, the press being scumbags, angst, Eddie Munson needs a hug, and Steve is going to give it to him, they're in love your honour | AO3

*title from Dirty Laundry by Don Henley

****

It’s taken eight years for it to come out; one world tour, three albums. One video that blew up on MTV. And that was the problem.

Because being a metal band, while they were famous, in metal magazines, in the scene, they weren’t famous. They weren’t Metallica. But it was cool. They were successful enough, they had everything they ever wanted.

But see, you have a successful single, and people who don’t know you, well, now they know you. And they want to know more about you, so they buy magazines. And some magazines, some shitty, low rent, nasty fucking rags, they really dig.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen his photograph alongside Chrissy Cunningham's.

They’d barely got off the stage in Quebec before Phil, their manager, was getting them into cars and back to the hotel. No one telling them a goddamn thing, just “We have a situation, we have to go.” They all piled into Phil’s hotel room, still sweaty, towels around their necks, before the bomb got dropped.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says, even though he can see it in Phil’s face. He scrambles to turn the television on. And it’s there, on the news, not just MTV either, it made CNN. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the bathroom floor. People have been knocking but he ignores them. They probably need a piss. They’ll have to go to someone else’s room.

There’s another knock and he just wants to tell them to fuck off but they speak before he gets a chance.

“Eddie?” Jeff, talking to him so softly, which makes him feel worse. Because this isn’t just about Eddie, it affects them too. If this blows up— fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Dude? Steve’s on the phone. I think you should come out and talk to him.”

And that’s the trigger, that’s the thing that gets him off the floor and unlocking the door. What he walks into isn’t a hotel room anymore, it’s a fucking war room. Phil is on another phone, the cable leading from the corridor outside the room. Their tour manager and publicist have their heads together at the desk. There are members of the road crew coming in and out of the room, dropping off food and drinks. When the door opens he can see security posted on the door.

Holy fuck. All because of him.

He takes the phone and turns to face the wall. “Steve?” His voice is rough from the adrenaline and stomach acid. He needs a drink.

“Hey,” says Steve in that oh-so-gentle voice, and God how he fucking needs him right now. “How are you holding up?”

“Been better,” he manages to force out. 

“Shit, sorry, stupid question.”

And Steve knows what he needs to hear before he can even form the words; Wayne is fine, Steve is fine, yes there are photographers and press outside his house, no there is no one outside of Wayne’s. 

“You’re all on flights out of Quebec this afternoon, okay?”

“To where?” They were supposed to be back in LA at the end of the week. But now… he has a hot stone in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it.

“Dublin via Toronto. You liked Ireland, right? And it’s quiet, it’ll be easy to hide there for a bit. Dustin has a friend-of-a-friend thing going on, but basically he’s got us a house in the middle of nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

“We?”

“I’m at LAX now. You’ll probably beat me there, you can hide out in the lounge and drink all their booze.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. He never stops marvelling at the way Steve just knows him, knows what he needs morning, noon and night. 

He clutches the phone, knuckles turning white. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. You won’t be alone, Phil is going to fly in with you, he’ll take care of everything. Just, tie your hair up and keep it under a cap. And take your rings off, okay? Keep your arms covered if you can.”

“Try not to look like Eddie Munson?”

There’s a pause at the end of the line before Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just for now though, right?”

“Right.” 

“I gotta go, my flight is boarding. I love you, okay?”

Eddie feels broken, the thought of hanging up like cutting his lifeline and he almost can’t bear to do it. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Always and forever?”

Eddie can hear the light teasing in Steve’s voice, and he smiles for the first time since Phil told him his life had been turned upside down again. Because that is what Steve does to him; blows away the tears and the clouds and the rain. Takes the open wounds of him and pulls them taught, stitching them together and making him whole again. 

“Always and forever,” he whispers back. 

He still feels sick, still has that putrid, adrenaline-filled rock in his gut just sitting there, but Steve’s voice reminds him of what they can’t take from him. They can take his band, his career, everything he worked for. But Steve will always be there for him. So many times in his life he’s questioned whether he is loved, like, truly loved. Even Wayne, who gave up so much for him, Eddie always worried that it came from a sense of obligation, even though deep down he knew better. But now, trapped in the middle of this maelstrom, the target of another witch hunt, he’s never been more sure of this: Steve Harrington loves him. And he loves him back in a way that should be scary but feels like oxygen, feels like life. And that’s what it comes down to, ultimately;  Steve is his life. 

And no shitty third rate magazine is ever taking that away from him.

****

Thanks to the wonderful @devondespresso for beta-ing!