#literally i have 2 choices masturbate or cut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cornacopicimagines · 5 years ago

Text

after hours│t.h

pairing: professor!tom holland x reader

words: 6.9k (hehe nice)

warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.

summary: It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over.

a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry

masterlist

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y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.

She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.

This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.

She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.

Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.

"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.

"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.

Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.

In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.

The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.

Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.

"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"

This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."

"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.

Yes.

"No," she replied hurriedly.

"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.

Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.

"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"

Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!

With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.

Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.

Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."

y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.

"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."

She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.

Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.

He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.

God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.

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y/n really didn't want to be doing this.

She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.

She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.

y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.

"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.

"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"

"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.

"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.

"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.

y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.

The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.

She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.

It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?

She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.

Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.

Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-

"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.

"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.

"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.

"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.

y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"

Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.

"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.

"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.

"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.

"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.

Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.

"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.

"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.

"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.

"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.

At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.

He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.

He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.

He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.

She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.

Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.

His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.

"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.

"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.

Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.

y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.

"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.

"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.

"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.

y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.

"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."

"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.

She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.

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The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.

y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.

The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.

Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.

Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.

"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.

He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.

So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.

It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.

She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."

Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.

"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.

y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.

Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.

"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.

y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."

Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.

He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.

Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.

"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."

Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.

y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.

He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."

Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.

"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."

"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.

He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.

"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.

Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."

The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.

Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.

"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.

She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.

"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.

"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."

"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.

"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.

As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland smut #professor!tom #professor!tom holland #professor!au #tom holland x you #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #marvel imagines #actor #actor smut #actor imagines #actor x you

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buckybeardreams · 3 years ago

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Unwanted

Chapters: 10/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,583

Tony went to Brock's to tell him about winning the case against Obie and Pierce, and ended up making another less expected announcement. One that Brock followed up with good news of his own.

"Wait? You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone. We're not telling people yet," Brock told him.

"I'm sorry, what? If I hadn't just told you I was pregnant, would you not have told me?"

"Probably not."

"What the fuck, Brock? I'm your best friend!"

"Yeah, but you know I was an only child, Tony. Not from a lack of trying on my parents' part either. They went through three miscarriages before they finally used in vitro to have me. If this baby doesn't make it, I don't want to deal with a whole bunch of people pitying me while I'm grieving."

Tony reached over and pulled him in for a hug.

"Okay, I get it now, but can I at least tell Steve?"

"Honestly, it's inevitable. I went to the hair salon yesterday and my hairdresser told me that Jessica, some girl that lives in her apartment that I don't even know, was having an affair with her current lover's ex-lover, not to mention she's married with three kids. I spilled my guts the moment Sam got home. Keeping things from mates is practically impossible."

Tony bit his lip.

"I haven't told Steve."

"Of course you didn't. You just found out, Tony. You literally haven't even left the room and your phone is sitting on the coffee table. How would you have told him?"

Tony shook his head.

"No, not that. I mean that I'm pregnant."

Brock blinked at him for a minute before narrowing his eyes.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously.

Tony fidgeted nervously.

"I don't know how he's gonna take it," Tony admitted.

Brock rolled his eyes.

"Good God, you're pathetic," Brock groaned in exasperation. "Seriously? That boy lives to please you. He's gonna be thrilled that you're gonna need massages and foot rubs for the next nine months. Not to mention, now he's gonna have two people to order him around. He's gonna be so excited to spoil your little mini-me, Tony."

Tony glared at him halfheartedly.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm still anxious about it and I'm not entirely sure why. I know it's ridiculous and I know Steve's gonna be thrilled."

Brock eyed him for a moment.

"Yes, we've established that," Brock said, watching Tony carefully. "What about you? Are you excited about it?"

Tony bit his lip and looked over at Brock guiltily.

"I don't know. I know that I should be. I know that babies are like miracles and all that, but I never thought I'd have one. I never thought I'd have an Alpha and now I do, and now this. It's just a lot and I'm not sure if I'm ready. I'm not sure if I want a child."

Brock nodded.

"If you need someone to go with you to take care of it, Tony-"

"No, no, I'm gonna keep it. I already considered that, but I think I'll regret it if I do."

Brock frowned.

"There's nothing wrong-"

"No, I know, Brock. It's not that. It's just- I think I'm scared, because this wasn't part of the plan. Steve wasn't part of the plan and the plan has completely changed. It's a lot, but I was scared about Steve, too, and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe this baby will be like that too."

Brock nodded.

"Okay, if it's really what you want then I'll support it and be happy for you. I'll support you no matter what choice you make, you know that right?"

"I do and I love you for that."

Brock rolled his eyes, but he smiled softly and pulled Tony in for a hug.

"Now let's talk nurseries," Brock said when he pulled back.

Tony grinned at him.

*****

"We're buying the bar," Tony said to the group.

He had invited everyone over to Steve's place, since his place was bigger and neater and just overall better for hosting people. He chose to do this on a Sunday night, the only night that the bar wasn't open, so everyone could be there. Everyone was so excited about having won the case, but also scared about what that would mean for them. They had all figured when they first decided to take their boss to court that they would be left jobless regardless of the outcome.

Clint raised his hand like he was still in elementary school and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Clint? Do you have something to say to the class?" Tony said sarcastically.

"Um... you're doing what?"

Tony sighed.

"We-" He said, gesturing between him and Steve, "Are buying the bar. This way we can all keep our jobs, have decent fucking pay checks, get the benefits we deserve, and just overall have a positive work environment. Sound good?"

There were murmurs and nods of agreement. Bucky stood up and grabbed the bottle of wine on the counter.

"Okay, well, I think we should all drink to that and to our new bosses."

"Yeah, um, we should clarify, that while I'm technically gonna be on the lease, it's really only because it looks good to have an Alpha on it," Steve said. "I'm an artist. Um, leadership? Yeah, that's not really my thing. Tony, though, he's gonna make a damn fine boss. So yeah, he's gonna run the place and work with you guys. I'm just gonna do the paperwork and manage schedules. That kind of behind the scenes stuff."

Tony giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Steve's gonna be a great co-owner and let me do whatever I want with the place, so I suggest you kiss up to me, if there's anything specific you want out of the renovations," Tony teased. "Steve will also be very busy raising our child and being a work-from-home dad while he paints and helps manage the bar.

Tony rested his hand on his flat belly and all the eyes in the room went wide and congratulations and cheers went off after a moment of shock. Steve was the most shocked though and it took him the longest to say something.

"Wait? Are you serious? Tony, if you're joking then tell me now before I get my hopes up."

"Nope, not joking," Tony told him with a grin, but a part of him was nervous that Steve would be unhappy about it.

"Oh my God. Oh my God! We're having a baby!" Steve practically shouted to the room in his excitement and scooped Tony up into his arms.

Tony laughed and wrapped his limbs around him, leaning down to kiss him.

"I can't believe it. This is amazing, baby! I'm gonna set up a nursery-"

"No, I'm setting up the nursery and Brock's gonna help me since he's also pregnant and we're gonna have matching nurseries."

"Right, right, then I'm gonna paint a mural on the walls."

"That's acceptable."

"Yeah and- Wait? Did you say Brock's pregnant?"

"Yeah, but you didn't hear it from me. They're not telling people yet," Tony told him with a wink.

Steve furrowed his brows.

"Who else would I have heard it from if they're not telling people?"

"I don't know. Sam?"

"But Sam would know that he didn't tell me," Steve pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Not my problem."

Steve set Tony down when Bucky cleared his throat.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but I've got wine," Bucky said handing a glass to Steve before reaching for a glass on the counter, "and for you--"

"Oh, no, I can't--"

"It's grape juice, Tony," Bucky cut him off. "I wouldn't do anything to risk your baby."

Tony nodded his thanks and smiled at Bucky.

"Congratulations, by the way. On the mating and the pup."

The words seemed sincere enough, but Bucky's smile seemed off. Tony brushed it off though, letting everyone else come up and hug him and make him promise to invite them to the baby shower. It was a good day, everyone in high spirits, excited about the new baby and getting to keep their jobs.

*****

That night at home Steve sat on the couch with Tony's feet in his lap, rubbing them.

"I'll do this for you everyday until the baby's born," Steve promised.

Tony smirked.

"Only until the baby's born," Tony teased, wiggling his toes.

Steve laughed.

"No, I'll do it every day until we die, because I love you more than anything in the world and I'd do anything for you, Tony, my beautiful Omega.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Yeah, well, don't let the baby hear you say that. I'm pretty sure your world is going to expand the moment I pop this thing out."

"Yeah," Steve said dreamily. "I can't believe we're gonna be parents."

"Yeah, this kid's so fucked," Tony teased.

Steve grinned at him.

"We're gonna have the most spoiled, loved, and happiest baby ever. He's never gonna want for anything."

"He? What makes you think we're having a boy?"

"Or she," Steve amended. "I don't care either way. I just hope the baby's just like you."

"Well, jokes on you. This baby's gonna have blond hair and blue eyes."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say the baby was gonna look like you, just be like you. You know, brilliant and stubborn."

Tony giggled and shook his head.

“Just focus on rubbing my feet, Alpha.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve teased.

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theromanticrationalist · 4 years ago

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For All Mankind's season 2 finale was just incredible. In many ways, I have been really impressed by this show and how they have been able to incorporate space exploration into the intimate threads of human history. The Moon, space, leaving the confines of the Earth's atmosphere, exploring the great beyond - all become catalysts for each of the individual characters - representing each of their own struggles. Because, as I believe, reaching out towards the stars ultimately becomes about reaching within the human soul - looking outward, is looking inward, and vice versa. The two are inexplicably entwined, and this show does a pretty good job at showing this.

More fan girl thoughts below the cut. . .

- Gordo & Tracy Stevens

I feel like this is best exemplified in Gordo and Tracy's story. I don't have time to outline it all at the moment, but the Moon becomes the stage upon which their hearts are made bare. It is so rare to see a redemption story, and a redemption story of a marriage no less, showcased with such power. I will forever be blown away by this story. *lays down* - *cries* - *cries a lot*

- Margo & Sergei

UH ... YES PLEASE.

A forbidden Soviet Era romance??? Yes yes yes yes yes. I need this! THANK YOU FOR ALL MANKIND. The both of them are my absolute favorite! Just. Everything about them. How they are the same and how they are able to communicate almost as if they are reading each other's minds, and the way Sergei looks at her, and the way Margo blushes and can't even look at him in the eyes, and just . . . *incoherent fangirl screeching*

I really feel like Margo knows the door that she opened. I hope the writers don't make her dumb in the next season - just some love struck nerd girl. Margo is naïve and lost in her own world sometimes, but she isn't stupid. I feel like after Sergei's call, she was realizing the full ramifications of what she had done and what this could mean for her and Sergei's complicated relationship. (Not to mention her standing with her own government and country!)

So, you know what I want to see?? I want to see Margo and Sergei play the most expertly played game of espionage ever orchestrated! I want to see them give false information to one another, and they'll personally always get offended by it even though they both know this isn't personal at all - they'll twist and turn words, double - triple! - meanings - are they enemies? Are they friends? Are they lovers? Do they even know? Maybe! Maybe not! How can they hope to be anything more when they are serving countries that are always on the brink of World War III? And yet!!!

And always Sergei will have stars in his eyes when he looks at her, whenever she does something impossibly clever, and Margo will always wear his favorite color and be speechless around him whenever he is trying to be charming.

I LOVE THEM. FOR ALL MANKIND YOU GAVE THIS TO ME NOW DON'T RUIN IT FOR ME

And let me just say that once again Margot is basically just me. OF COURSE she would fall for the enemy! Totally on brand. I get you, girl! I get you so hard!

<holding up my fingers like the Ben Wyatt meme> It's about the "it's complicated..."

- Danielle Poole

QUEEN. MY QUEEN. I knew she would come through and pull off the Soyuz mission with flying colors! And Danielle & Stepan have my heart! I knew Stepan wouldn't be able to resist her in the end, and that he would have his little Soviet heart melted in no time! 🥰🥰🥰 That whole moment of them defying their governments and choosing peace and brotherhood was just so beautiful. (I was pretty much an emotional mess the entire finale...) Then the gut punching realization that many American's didn't even get to see the historical moment live on TV because they were in the Fall Out shelters. Uuuuuugh. This show is SO good at building the emotional drama of this unfolding history. It feels so real! But it also feels very much like it could part of the Star Trek universe. They are exploring similar utopian and humanistic themes, and so I think I am going to make it my headcanon that our alternate history is part of the Prime timeline. It's official. I have declared it.

Speaking of Star Trek, though, I was tearing up when Danielle was quoting Star Trek. OF COURSE she is a Trekkie - OF COURSE. She is perfect without flaw. The most precious angel! I just wish she had more screen time this season, but I loved her story this season regardless!

- Thomas Paine

I never got to properly mourn the passing of Paine! I was pretty upset that he died, and just when he was becoming such an awesome character! (HE LOVED SPACE THE ENTIRE TIME OMG MY HEART.) However, I realized he was like the Agent Coulson of this show. That awesome side character with an unusual and unexpected quirky personality whose death becomes a catalyst for the bigger picture! Ellen is doing an incredible job within his place, though, and I love what it is building for her character (even if her story is SO SAD). At any rate, Thomas Paine shall be missed!

- Molly Cobb

Molly Cobb is BOSS. Her heroic moment on the Moon was such an amazing highlight for this season for me. But I am loving how they have taken her character in an unexpected direction, down a harder and more humbling road. It is heartbreaking, but such a deeply human story. Her taking her plane and trying to escape from the Earth's atmosphere was like the most DRAMATIC AF moment (omg this show), but also, I felt that too. I also loved her and Wayne's struggle through what Molly is having to face. They're marriage is so strong - perfectly challenging one another and carrying one another through life. I love them! This is going to be painful watching what Molly will have to go through, though.

- Karen

I do want to say a few more words about this whole debacle. The fact that the writers completely obliterated the Baldwin family is something I will not forgive them for, and it was very poor choice on their part, most especially how it came about. To me, the Baldwins have always been the anchor point of the show, but now they are all just kind of pathetic, as the trust in their marriage is broken (for no reason) and all so that Karen can go "find herself".

Now, it has always been a part of Karen's character arc that she needs to find her own identity. She gave herself to her family, putting herself last, and that isn't a good thing. Although we should be reminded that a woman serving her family as a wife and mother is NOT shameful, and so there was literally no reason for the writers to deconstruct this when it was actually a beautiful thing. Things aren't black and white. Karen can be both proud as a dutiful wife and mother AND have existential dread over her own identity as person. BOTH realities can be true and exist together! You don't need to destroy the one to have the other! It's called N U A N C E. Something American tv writers utterly lack in their writing now a days.

Regardless of all this, though, and the disturbing, messed up nature of Karen's affair with Danny - I am sick and tired of how often shows and movies depict a woman's exploration of identity through her sexuality. I find it to be really offensive. As if liberating a woman's spirit means turning her into a horny sex fiend. Sexuality is but one dimension of a woman's identity, one dimension amongst a thousand. To reduce her down to this basic and crude physical dimension, as if somehow sleeping around, having affairs, masturbating, etc, unlocks her deeper self, is really insulting to women as human beings. Being an independent, confident woman comes from a deeper place of the mind, heart, and spirit that embodies her entire person as a holistic being. We are more than the sum of our parts! Please, writers, for the love of God, stop making us into rutting animals!

Suggestion: American writers, creators, directors, just go read Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. She'll wipe the floor with your pitiful displays of female independence. I have never seen any modern writer even come close to what Bronte was able to to achieve with her masterpiece. She was able to truly showcase the power, dignity, and grace of a woman's spirit flawlessly - showing how freedom and independence does not mean free to do whatever you want with whomever you want defying all traditions, religion, expectations, and principles - but is a state and quality of mind, that even in the most dire and unbearable of circumstances, your spirit remains immutable. A woman's strength is compassion in the face of adversity, serenity in the face of devastation, and strength in the face of oppression. THAT is true womanhood.

#lots of thoughts #my thoughts #for all mankind #this show has taken me to transcendent heights #but also has plummeted me into the deepest lows of disgust #it's going to be like this the whole time isn't it #margo madison #danielle poole #molly cobb

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7-wonders · 4 years ago

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Duncan Shepherd NSFW Alphabet

You’re welcome.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s a perfect dom. So incredibly attentive to your needs, always gentle to clean you up and make sure that you’re comfortable and in a good headspace. He’s also the king of cuddling, and yes that IS canon.

 B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sexually, Duncan’s an ass man. Don’t ask me how I know this, or what my reasoning is, but he loves your ass. Grabbing it, kneading it, keeping his hand in your back pocket in public (insert Peter K pocket spinning gif). Your ass is perfect to him, and he’ll find it a challenge to rip his gaze away if you’re in front of him.

Non-sexually (but also sexually bc it’s Duncan), he loves your lips. Making them curl into a smile is one of his favorite things to do, and he’s enraptured when you’re talking. If you’re putting makeup on, he’ll sit and watch as you expertly apply your lipstick.

Duncan’s favorite body part of himself is his arms. There’s so much that he can do with his arms, and he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t like the way his veins looked popping out on his arms. He loves when you trace them, as well as when you hold onto his arm while out in public.

 C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Come on, the man’s a breeding kink freak. He loves cumming inside of you. Period, full stop.

 D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’d love to have a threesome with you and another man, he just doesn’t know who.

 E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Duncan’s pretty experienced, thanks to a number of flings in college and being labeled one of Washington’s most eligible bachelors and playboys. He knows what he’s doing, and he can make sex with you kinky, fast and rough, or slow and sensual.

 F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

I can’t find a good gif :( but it’d be where he’s taking you from behind (that way he can hit you in just the right spot), but your back is to his chest and he has his hand around your throat to hold you up.

 G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Duncan’s pretty serious during sex, but he’s been known to crack a couple of jokes here and there. Typically, he leaves the humor to you.

 H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

His hair down there is curlier, but he keeps himself trimmed well. It’s not an obsessive manscaping thing, but he likes to keep his entire appearance neat.

 I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Prior to you, sex for Duncan used to just be another business deal. Both parties got gratification and pleasure from this experience, and then they went their separate ways afterwards. That’s why, when you and Duncan get together, sex is so romantic for him. He wants you to know just how dedicated he is to you, and that involves constant touching and kissing, both during sex and just in everyday life.

 J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Only masturbates when he’s away on extended business trips. Even then, he’s so whipped for you that he literally cannot get off without either calling you or watching one of the many photos/videos he has on his phone.

 K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding.

Also, he’s really into bondage. I read this really good Shibari fic that I need to find and reblog, but he goes absolutely crazy when he sees you in ropes.

 L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere in his apartment. Seriously. The kitchen counters, the couch, the shower, the floor, the bedroom. If it’s a surface, you can bet Duncan’s gonna try and fuck you on it.

He’s also really into sex in his office, but you’ll only do that if there’s not a lot of people there or if it’s later in the evening.

 M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do turns him on. If you wear one of his shirts, or dance and sing while you’re cleaning or doing otherwise menial tasks. Getting upset when somebody cuts you off in traffic, and how you look when you’re reading a book. It’s a miracle that Duncan isn’t constantly sporting a hard-on, really.

 N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Definitely no dub-con, or anything that would cause you too much pain. Just the thought of taking a knife and cutting your skin makes him so upset; he doesn’t know how people can be into that.

 O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

The man LOVES going down on you. He would eat you out for hours if given the chance, and his tongue is otherworldly.

 P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a mixture of both, it just really depends on the time/event.

 Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

As a very passionate man, sometimes it’s impossible to wait for the “right” moment. Therefore, quickies are pretty common in your relationship. Still, the opportunity to properly seduce and bed you is far preferable to a quickie.

 R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Risk is a big part of your sexual relationship with Duncan! Lots of risks (especially with the potential of getting caught having sex), as well as always being down to experiment with most kinks either of you might be interested in.

 S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

2-3 rounds, if you’re going back-to-back. With breaks, there’s no telling how long Duncan can fuck you for. All night, if he’s feeling especially dedicated.

 T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Going off of the bondage kink, he has a pretty sizable rope collection. You have a couple of vibrators for the times when Duncan’s on trips, but anything else makes Duncan feel like he can’t satisfy you himself. The audacity.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh my god he teases you SO MUCH. Especially at work events or functions. Sometimes he won’t let you wear panties under an evening dress, or he’ll send you dirty text after dirty text. Duncan will absolutely take every opportunity to tease you.

 V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Duncan’s pretty quiet. A few grunts and groans, but mainly he just whispers into your ear.

 W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

You made Duncan work for the chance to have sex with you. You had heard of his reputation before, and you were not about to be another on a list of one night stands. It wasn’t the first date, and it wasn’t even the second date. After you knew that he was actually serious about you, you gave him the cues that you were down to get down.

 X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s about average, 5 or 6 inches. His strength lies in how thick he is. He may look like a slender guy, but our mans is packing.

 Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

We’ve established that he has a super high sex drive for you. If the smallest thing you do gets him going, it’s going to be easy for him to go a couple of rounds and make sure that this was worth your while.

 Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Duncan usually doesn’t fall asleep very quickly. His mind is always moving from one task to the next and, while he’s more than happy to hold you until you fall asleep, there’s always work to be done.

idk I’m just tagging a couple of people @sojournmichael @ccodyfern @lvngdvns @langdonslove @moonanonwriting @xavierplympton

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd smut #hoc #hoc imagine #hoc imagines #house of cards #house of cards imagine

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sir-silly · 4 years ago

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TWDG S4 First Playthrough

E1 - Ohh how I’ve missed these characters. S4 isn’t flawless, but I love it so freaking much. The collectables are one of my favorite parts, tbh. I’m such a simp for Louis and that’s never gonna change, ngl. He’s so cute and caring and ugh. I need me one of those. Clem is so damn lucky.

Unsurprisingly, I’m the worst at controlling this season in particular. I’m not used to the mouse sensitivity being so high with the camera when you’re walking around but I can’t change it because then it’ll be different when I’m picking choices and stuff. I freaking suck at all of the kill walker scenes, I seriously died like 5 times clearing them out to help the hunting party. I’m concerned about when I have to help James at his camp lol.

The confrontation with Marlon at the end is so damn good. I just always find it so perfect and well done. Also, Louis helping AJ up when he gets pushed down is so fucking sweet. I love him so much. Appealing to him really hit hard and seeing that “Your relationship with Louis has changed” is just oof. I know what CJ has been talking about all this time now lol.

E2 - All of the cuts when Clem and AJ are talking at the beginning are freaking gorgeous. Like, with them standing in the same exact position with the background flashing are just MMMMM. That was really, really well done.

Fuck Lilly. Fuck her trying to help Clementine stand up. She makes me so damn angry. And Abel twisting AJ’s arm and Clem begging for him to stop just breaks my heart. It makes me wonder how much of these interactions Violet and Louis saw, because they would have known to turn around the second they heart that first gunshot. Like, while they were sneaking up, what all did they hear? I told Vi to shoot Lilly because, once again, fuck her.

I’m still so damn bad at the walker killing scenes. It’s honestly sad how terrible I am at them, like, I don’t know why I struggle so much. I think a part of it is that in previous seasons, it would only be like 2 or 3 walkers, meanwhile in S4, it’s like 5 or 6. It’s also probably the fact that we have to control both the camera and Clem’s movements. I just can’t do both.

James is cute. I love him. He’s a sweet boi. Louis carrying AJ in is cute. I love him. He’s a sweet boi. When they get upstairs and AJ calls for Clem, he just sounds so scared and it hurts me. He’s still just a little kid and I couldn’t imagine my cousins that are his age going through these kinds of things.

The banter between Clem, Ruby and Mitch at the greenhouse is so cute and wholesome. Like, Ruby saying that condensation is a big word for Mitch and him daring Clementine to drink whatever is in the vials with her saying “not in a million years.” It’s just so sweet and so similar to modern jokes between friends, it just makes me so happy.

Also, Mitch is one strong boi. Like, Clem is strong, don’t get me wrong. She fuckin chops down trees and pushes adults off of balconies, but she couldn’t get that damn propane tank to budge, meanwhile Mitch comes over and picks it up with one hand. It reminds me of Peeta in The Hunger Games with how he could throw bags of flour over his shoulders super easily.

Another also, the way Mitch says propane annoys me lol. He puts the emphasis on the O instead of the A, so it’s prOpane instead of propAne. It’s just always bothered me and I had to complain about it lmao. Ruby is cute. I love her. She’s a sweet gorl.

AJ asking to sleep in Clem’s bed, her saying she’s still little, and him saying he slept better with her are just so damn cute. I freaking love their relationship so damn much. They’re just so sweet together and I can’t help but gush over them.

Louis talking about Marlon while shooting arrows is just a great scene to me, no matter how short it is. I don’t understand how people can still hate him so much when he explains how close they were and how guilty he feels, not just about kicking Clem and AJ out, but his role in Marlon’s death.

In the previous seasons, I think players became really desensitized to a character losing someone. 1 was honestly pretty good with Kenny’s loss of Duck and Katjaa with his anger and hyperfixations, 2 was a mess with Luke losing literally everyone he knows and being like “meh”, and 3 was also really bad with how Mari, Gabe and David can all die and three days later, Kate’ll still be like “let’s start a family uwu.” I think because of all this, people were really hard on Louis when he reacted like a normal human being over Marlon, which really sucks.

During the card game, when Louis reassures AJ about not being there for the old world and he and Clem kinda nod at her, is so ffffucking cute. I’ll never get over that. They shared a similar look their first night when he gave AJ the rest of his soup even though he was clearly super hungry. I cherish these looks between them and for once, it almost seems unbalanced with Violet lol. Like, I don’t feel like you get those looks with Violet no matter what you choose like you do with Louis those first two episodes. And Louis teasing Aasim about Ruby is really adorable.

And of course, helping him tune the piano is just UGH. He’s so damn cute and I can’t get over it. The scene has some of my favorite interactions between him and Clem. One, where he’s like “How do you feel about our imminent deaths?” and she doesn’t say anything and he says, “You know I’m here for you.” and it’s so CUTE. Two, he has her blow on the strings, she says “I can’t believe I fell for that.” while laughing and he goes, “It’s good to see you like this.” Like, how damn sweet is this boy? He sees that she puts on just as much of a cold exterior as he does with a humorous one, realizing that they both let their guards down around each other. Three, Clem calling Louis a weirdo and him saying that she likes that so in reality, they’re both weird.

Another thing I’ll never get over is Mitch’s death. It makes me hella salty and just grrrr. LOOK HOW THEY MASSACRED MY BOY!!!!

E3 - Willy crying over Mitch’s body is oof. Louis holding Clem’s hand is oof. I wish there was a third option during Abel’s interrogation where you could tell AJ that you don’t want him to watch rather than saying he doesn’t have to.

Again, unsurprisingly, I sucked at James’ camp with the walkers. I had to kill some of them because I literally couldn’t stay alive, so that made me angry. I also missed some of the collectables at James’ barn which also made me mad. AJ and Clem’s interactions with the salt lick are super cute. Talking to James about walkers is much more of an oof when you actually let Lee turn.

So, here’s my thing about the scene in the barn with the walkers and the chimes. No, I don’t think there’s anything more inside of walkers and I agree completely with the dialogue choice that it sounds like hell if that’s true. So James is saying they’re at peace when you go in and touch the times, but that isn’t accurate. They walk up to the chimes because it’s noise. You can’t hear them growling and moaning because the audio switches to music to try and make it more meaningful. James then proceeds to say that when walkers are alone, they’re innocent and harmless which is so inaccurate it hurts. What about Sandra in Clem’s house almost killing Lee? What about the walker that bit Duck? What about the one that bit Lee? Or the one in the shed while Clem stitched her arm? The one that dragged Luke to the bottom of the lake? It’s bullshit.

Louis’ date with Clem makes me hella salty only because he doesn’t get to give her anything like Vi gives her a pin. That’s also bullshit. He’s fucking cute though with being unable to light the matches and saying, “Have you met you?” and shit. Ngl, the first time he said he saw some magazines in the headmaster’s office, I was like LOUIS NO, but they were just about dating so it’s ok lmao. AJ and Clem with the ball and the “I love you” are so fucking adorable.

The hootenanny is cute. Ruby is cute. Louis saying “a woman after my heart” is cute. Him saying leprechauns are too hard to explain to AJ is cute. It’s all cute. Clem tells Ruby that purple was her dad’s favorite color, but it also was her favorite color in S1. If you stand around her and Katjaa for long enough, she’ll tell her that it’s her favorite. So, it’s apparently changed, and it makes me wonder what it is now.

I don’t believe Willy’s reason for getting sent to Ericson. I think that the real reason he was sent was really upsetting, so he never told anyone why he was actually sent there. So, when he learned about masturbation, he thought it was funny and used that excuse instead to make it funny.

I know that the shit with Louis’ parents really hurt him, but I always laugh so hard over the meme that’s like, “violet: my grandma killed herself in front of me 😔. louis: my parents got me the wrong gucci flipflops 😭😭😭.” It’s really tempting to say the dialogue option “worst party ever” but I never do lol.

The dream sequence with Lee always gets to me. Specifically, when we hear “Hey, sweetpea” and Clem looks up in shock, when she runs to hug him, when he’s like “Just look at you,” and when he leaves saying, “It’s time to go. There’s people that need you.” And goddammit, wHERE IS MY OPTION TO TELL HIM THAT I LOVE HIM??!?!?!!! I DON’T JUST WANT TO SAY THAT I MISS HIM!!!!!! I WANT IT ALL!!!!

I’m not even going to get into all of my problems with Violet’s scene in the cell because it makes me too salty and mad. There were some issues with Louis’, too, but not nearly as many. Just grrrrr.

I suck at the fighting sequences as well lol. Like, I got Clem punched so many times lmao. Also, where is my option to be like, “Hey AJ give me the gun” so Clem kills Lilly. Because I want her dead and I want James alive, but I don’t want him to be the one pulling that trigger again. Angery. Where are my choices, choice based game?

E4 - AJ’s talking for the previously on TWD gives me chills when he’s like, “But I remember all the rules. And the first one...is never go alone.” So good. If you can give me chills with just audio and screencaps, you did a good job. Y’all, everyone’s gotta be so damn sore after that explosion. Like, they running around a limber and shit but nah, everything’s going to hurt. And Clem’s climbing all over all this metal with fire literally right next to it, that shit would be so damn hot you’d burn your hands.

Fuck Lilly and her trying to make you feel bad as she’s getting away on the raft. Fuck the fact that you can’t shoot her afterwards. I make the choice three damn times to shoot her, and you still don’t let me have my choice. Bullshit. I hope she eats shit and dies.

Louis and Clem hugging on land is so cute. Violet getting blinded is dumb. It’s like they had to even the levels since Louis got his tongue cut out, which is just stupid. If they wanted to have them both hurt, they should have just set that they pulled out her eye or something instead of her getting blinded after the fact. I find it really dumb. I can’t even tell you how many times I died on the damn beach trying to get through the walkers. It shouldn’t be this hard to control your game.

As much as I hate James’ character flip in the cave, I do love that scene and I prefer it over the one without him. AJ really does have a lot of problems and if I didn’t know that not trusting him would kill Louis, I would have picked that. But I love Louis too damn much for that. He’s still so young and none of these are choices that he should have to make. And the fact that he chose to shoot Tenn in the neck adds to that. He doesn’t know to aim for a non-kill shot to stop someone like Clementine does, so his first real friend ended up dead. And his perspective on things after the game is still messed up, which you can tell by the “What Clem taught me” segment at the end.

The reunion with Louis is adorable. Him saying “longest damn minute of my life” is adorable. Him talking about his skylight and the house they’re going to build is adorable. I love all of it. I always have a hard time with the final touch, because I love that he wants a new piano, the nostalgia of a treehouse, and the dialogue “Thanks dad” for the skylight lol. Tenn’s face when Louis tells him he can help with painting is so fucking cute.

Minnie coming up to the bridge is so well done. It’s so ominous (I think the French version is the creepiest) and the look Louis and Clem share is just like “wtf, do you hear that too?” I died a million times during their fight scene as well because I can’t play this game for shit. I don’t know why, but I find Louis jumping the gap really attractive lol. Like, our boi woulda killed it in long jump lmao.

Y’all got an axe. You shoulda broke the damn lock off that gate. Smh.

As always, the whole process of Clem getting bit and her talking with AJ in the barn is heartbreaking. It gets to me every damn time, just like her and Lee’s does. It’s honestly hard for me to decide which one is sadder because while Clementine raised AJ his whole life, Lee became her family so quick and was cut so short. I prefer the choice of killing Clem just because you get more dialogue between her and AJ before he cuts her leg off, but I didn’t have it in me to tell him that, so I told him to leave her.

I have mixed feelings about the placement of the flashback to McCarroll Ranch. Part of me thinks it belongs in a different episode, but another likes it where it is. It just doesn’t seem to fit well where it was placed.

Much like 9 year old Clem being able to drag an unconscious Lee into the jewelry store, it would be impossible for 5 year old AJ to get her thicc ass into that wheelbarrow and push her to the school. I enjoy the headcanon that James arrived not too long after the amputation and helped get her back, but decided to stay in the woods because he didn’t want anyone to see him.

I missed another collectable in the damn shed which I’m salty as hell about. I love the reuse of Take Us Back, as many of us do. I just had to bring it up because it makes me emotional. Clem pushing AJ on the swing is adorable. The dinner scene is adorable. Violet’s voice is adorable. Louis kissing Clem on the cheek is adorable. It’s all adorable.

When Clem asks if she did a good job, I will always and forever pick the “Is she crazy?!” option because everything she did was incredible. She never had to take care of AJ. She wasn’t stuck with him. She could have left him behind so many times, but she never did. And like Javier said, not everyone is like her, not everyone wants to take care of a baby. And she fought like hell for him day after day, no matter what.

And you can see, especially in the cave scene when AJ brings up the fact that she’s still just a kid too, that she still has so much bottled up inside. She grew up so damn fast and became a goddamn powerhouse. Anyone that got in the way of her and AJ was going to end up dead. She never knew what it meant to be a parent before the world ended. She didn’t get to the age where you understand the choices parents make when raising their kids. And yet, she still raised a child all while raising herself in the middle of an apocalypse.

Clementine, you did a better job than anyone else ever could have.

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orangeflavoryawp · 4 years ago

Text

Jonsa - “Red Curtain”

My first modern Jonsa piece. Definitely a different voice than I usually use, but loads of fun to write.

If you’re interested in the accompanying playlist at all, here you go.

Red Curtain

Chapter One: No Take-Backs

“He’s pretty sure he left that closet at least half in love with her.” - Jon and Sansa. Summer’s for lovin’, after all.

Oh, and crisis. That, too.

Read it on Ao3 here.

Part 1 | 2

* * *

"No, no, but you see, gravity doesn't matter here," Theon argues. "You're up in space. It's like a fucking swimming pool up there, just, you know, minus having your trunks hauled halfway down your ass every time you surface."

"Theon, it's not gravity keeping your jizz in your dick," Jon laughs, reaching for the ice bags Robb hands him over the edge of the pickup truck.

Robb heaves another bag over. "This is literally the dumbest conversation you two have ever had."

Jon points at Robb accusingly. "Hey, okay look, I can guarantee you this isn't the dumbest conversation Theon's ever had." He swings the offending finger over to Theon in point.

"Dude, how do you know how that shit works in space? You ever been?" he defends, fumbling with one of the coolers.

Jon rolls his eyes. He hadn't really expected he'd be arguing the finer points of masturbating in space when he got up this morning, but in hindsight, he probably should have, considering the day's company.

"I'll be back with the beers," Tormund calls out, coming around the truck as Robb jumps down.

Jon tosses him the keys in answer. "Grab some spritzers, too."

"You got it, Buttercup," Tormund says, winking, climbing into the driver's seat.

After a glare his buddy's way, Jon looks back to find Robb and Theon staring at him with matching smirks.

He shrugs. "What?"

"Spritzers?" Robb asks, closing the truck bed with a cocked eyebrow.

Jon grabs the cooler handle opposite Theon's hold. If he's lucky, maybe he can upend him. "Your mom likes 'em," he mumbles. And then he throws an arched brow Robb's way. "Actually, your dad, too."

"You're such a fucking suck-up," Robb laughs, shaking his head, piling in what bags of ice he could fit into the cooler.

"Your boyfriend's kinda cute, you know. He's not staying?" Theon asks with a nod sent back at Tormund as he peels off in the truck.

Jon throws a swing Theon's way and he guffaws in answer while ducking, before nearly dropping his end of the cooler, scrambling for balance.

Serves the fucker right.

Between the two of them, they get the cooler up the driveway. Robb trails behind them with a bag of ice on each hip, looking every bit the expectant father he is. "Tell Tormund to come by. He always makes a party more eventful," Robb goads.

"You mean more expensive," Jon throws back.

He's still paying off that bill for the pool table Tormund wrecked back at The Crow, after all. And yet, it's him who gets all the dirty glares from the bartenders now.

And really, what's up with that? It's not like he's the man's mother.

Jon shakes his head, glancing back at Robb. "Anyway, he's got a shift tonight."

Theon wrinkles his nose. "The brewery?"

"Yeah."

Robb mock pukes.

"What? It's a good gig," Jon defends.

"It's where you met Ygritte," Robb points out, shifting the ice over his hips.

Jon refrains from rolling his eyes. Only barely. "She's not a bad person. We were just... bad for each other."

"Ever heard of that river in Egypt?" Theon quips. "De-nile?"

Jon throws him an exasperated look. "Why do you hate her so much anyway?"

Theon's smirk instantly dips into a frown entirely too somber for such a face. "She borrowed my copy of 'The Thing' and never gave it back."

Jon actually laughs at that one.

"See!" Robb butts in, "Those are the worst kinds of people. She's a taker, man. What you need is a giver."

"Someone like Tormund," Theon supplies cheekily. "Seriously though, what is it with you and redheads?"

Jon drops his half of the cooler weight for a brief moment in response, just before catching it again, and Theon's yanked hard left with the motion.

"What the fuck, man?" He rubs his shoulder, glaring at Jon, but Jon's too busy laughing, before he stumbles over a sprinkler head when they dip off the driveway. "Agh, fuck, that hurt."

"Karma's a bitch, Snow," Theon taunts. "And she's my bitch."

Jon opens his mouth but Robb cuts him off, ushering them off the driveway. "Guys, left – go left. We gotta take the cooler round back anyway. Dad's already in the yard."

So they shuffle left, crossing over the Starks' large front lawn toward the side gate to the backyard.

"Watch the zinnias," Robb directs.

Jon and Theon stop simultaneously to look back at him.

"Dude," Theon deadpans.

Robb comes up short, glancing between the two, shifting awkwardly with the ice in his arms. "Mom will kill you," he says in answer.

"Do you want to carry this thing?" Jon asks with a pinched brow.

Robb brushes past them toward the side gate. "Just don't step on them. Come on, come on."

They trudge onward, and Jon really does roll his eyes then because of fucking course he still takes pains not to step on the goddamn zinnias.

Maybe Robb was right. He really is a suck-up.

They make it to the gate and drop the cooler, thank god.

"Dad! Dad, open up," Robb yells over the gate, rocking back and forth from foot to foot with that cold ass ice at his sides.

"We brought your shit!" Theon hollers, and Jon throws a smack to his chest in reprimand.

"Ow," he draws out dramatically, a hand to his chest.

Robb frowns at the gate, the gate that isn't opening. He wiggles the ice higher up his hips. Stares hard at the fence.

Theon cocks a brow at him.

"Call him," Robb says, chin jutting toward Jon.

He reaches for his phone, hands flattening over empty back pockets. "Shit, it's in my bag." The bag he left in Tormund's truck.

Theon makes a similar show opposite him.

Robb throws his head back with an exaggerated groan, dropping the bags down on the top of the cooler. "I'm not picking that shit back up again," he swears, an unexpected shudder rippling through him when he's suddenly ice-free. He clamps his hands over his chest, his t-shirt already damp and sticking to him. "Shit, my nipples," he curses.

Theon barks a laugh.

"Look, I'll call him," Jon says through a laugh. "Where's your phone?"

Robb shoos his hands away. "I got it, I got it." He pulls his phone from his back pocket, dials, waits a moment. "Yeah, Dad, we're here." He glances to the gate. "No, it's not open." He ushers toward Theon to try the latch.

It swings free as soon as he tries the handle.

Robb glares at the offending gate. "It's open," he mutters, hanging up.

Jon cocks a brow at him. "We cool to go in or...?"

"Yeah, they're coming," he assures, pocketing his phone.

And then Jon catches sight of Ned Stark coming down the long stretch of grass lining the side of the house. He's in checkered shorts, a short-sleeved button down, flip flops that squelch at his heels with each step, and Jon hides a chuckle behind his fist, because he fucking loves this man, summer fit and all. And then Benjen comes around the corner behind him, dressed similarly, jogging to catch up, a hand raised in the air in greeting and before Jon knows it, it's a rush of hugs, and claps on shoulders, and a kind of rough jostling that makes him beam, a rowdy tousle of welcomes, smiles stretched wide.

He misses this. God, he fucking misses this. The only family he ever truly felt a part of.

And then that useless, familiar guilt ripples through him.

The thing is though, he thinks his mother would have appreciated the closeness he feels with the Starks. After all, she and Ned Stark grew up living next door to each other for fifteen years, near as siblings as anyone could be. And then years had passed, and suddenly they were all adults, and maybe Ned made some better choices, and Lyanna hadn't. Maybe all of this was supposed to be ancient history. And he doesn't really know if history is supposed to be a lesson, he really doesn't. And he doesn't fucking care. Because his mom did a hell of a job with what she had, and he loved her, more than he knew he could love anyone, and she was good for him, she really was, right up to the moment that she died.

She never stopped being good for him, really. Even after she died – when Ned Stark wrapped his arm around his trembling, nineteen-year-old shoulders at the funeral, let him cry into his perfectly starched collar, took him home to a warm house, gave him some hot soup and his first glass of whiskey, told him stories about his mother that had him laughing as hard as he'd been crying just earlier – that was his mother right there. That was his mother bringing Ned Stark, and all the rest of them, into his life full force. No take-backs.

It's not something he thinks too hard about most days – how his first real birthday party, when he was seven years old, was a cowboys versus dinosaurs theme, because he and Robb Stark, the stupid, loudmouth boy next door, had gotten into such an argument weeks before (and they've never really settled that one since, to be honest.) Or how the boy across the street, Theon fucking Greyjoy, had knocked on his door in the middle of the rain, holding up the tail-end of his pet iguana with a look of exasperation far older than their eleven years with a sigh of 'He keeps getting into my sister's bathroom'.

And he tries not to think about the day he attempted to teach Arya to drive in his busted up Jeep and became witness to such road rage that had him shrinking in his seat, fingers curling around the hand-hold along the roof, or the way Bran quietly demolishes him every time they play a round of Modern Warfare, sipping his perfectly iced root beer with a hint of superiority, or the way Rickon had wailed when animal control took away that stray dog they'd found in the park, huddled under a bush, whining and licking at its broken leg. Or how Sansa had –

Jon swallows thickly, mind fizzing out.

Because he remembers how Sansa helped him pick out a new suit for his first day at the firm, when his nerves had been frayed all to hell. And he remembers how she helped him sneak Robb back into the house through her bedroom window, nagging the whole way through, when he and Theon had gotten her brother drunk for the first time in highschool. And he remembers back in middle school how she helped mend the jacket his mother had given him because he didn't want her to find out that he'd ripped it riding bikes through the construction site she'd warned him to stop playing in.

And sometimes, when he least expects it, he even remembers the morning after his mother's funeral.

After spending the night, he'd been sitting out on the Starks' front step just before dawn, his hands linked between his knees, mouth fuzzy from the whiskey Ned had given him the night before, and he remembered looking up at the sky. Barely a cloud in sight. This pretty sort of blue, just on the verge of daybreak, and he remembered absolutely hating it. Wanted to throw something up into that stupid, pretty blue, make it crack and break, blow a hole straight through it, watch the pieces trickle down.

And then Sansa pushed the front porch door open.

He'd turned back to look at her, squinting in the half-light. She was standing there in the same sweatpants and tank top she'd gone to sleep in the night before, holding an opened yogurt in one hand, a spoon in the other, keeping the door open with her hip.

He's sure he'd meant to say something, but nothing really seemed to be worth saying right then, so he just looked at her. She watched him a moment, like she was still deciding whether to step out onto the porch entirely or not, and then she offered a light quirk of her lip and let the door slip off her hip and shut behind her. She sat down beside him and started to silently eat her yogurt.

It was that probiotic shit he'd seen her eating dozens of times before, lemon flavored, and it was so normal suddenly – here – the morning after his mother's funeral, sitting next to Sansa Stark at the crack of dawn.

She looked at him, lip caught between her teeth. "Want some?"

And he'd let out a breath finally, all the anger bleeding from him instantly. He shrugged, a chuckle leaving him. "Sure, why not?" He opened his mouth and she spooned a dollop in obediently.

It tasted terrible. And he must have made a face, because her lips tipped down in an imperceptible frown and then she was glancing back at her yogurt. "It helps with indigestion," she said despondently, turning the tiny carton around in her hand, peering at the label.

And then Jon laughed, only it hurt. So maybe it wasn't a laugh at all. All he knew was that his eyes burned, and he couldn't look at her, and the air built up in his chest and it wasn't leaving, it just felt like choking, and he was sure he was laughing now, awkwardly loud and clipped off at the end, like his own tongue hadn't expected it, and then he was pressing his knuckles into his eye socket, like he could dig the very tears out if only he could clench his fist hard enough.

The sky was so stupidly, frustratingly blue.

And his mother was dead.

"I think it's supposed to get better with time. Easier, I guess," she said quietly beside him.

Jon looked at her, brow crinkled. "What?"

"Missing her."

He frowned at that, stared hard at the half-eaten yogurt held in her limp hand as she glanced out over the lawn.

She looked at him, and her eyes were blue, too. And maybe that was supposed to mean something, but it didn't. It didn't mean anything.

"You believe that?" he asked her.

She shrugged, an earnest look on her face. "It's what everyone says."

"Sure." He looked back to his hands linked between his knees, pressed the toes of his boots into the wood beneath him, just to feel it. "I guess."

"I'm sorry she's gone." She dipped her spoon back into her yogurt but just twirled the tip of it around languidly. She shook her head, and she looked so unbearably sad. Too sad for any seventeen-year-old to ever look. "I'm so, so sorry, Jon."

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Yeah, me too."

Maybe she caught the quiver in his voice. Or maybe she'd just grown tired of playing with her yogurt, hands fiddling with the spoon. Fuck if he knew. But she looked at him then.

Jon turned to look out over the lawn where the lip of the sun had just begun to peak over the houses across the way. "I don't - " He caught the break before it could fully form, swallowed it down, tried again. "I don't really know how to talk about it," he admitted. Because it was true. "Not yet."

She gave it a moment, and then, "Okay." And he figured she'd leave then. But she didn't. Or maybe she just didn't know how. But he – he –

"Can you..." And then he looked at her again, caught sight of the new sun slanting over her face, and it was bright, too fucking bright, and she raised a hand up to shield her eyes, squinting at him, and he wanted to laugh again, but he didn't know how to make it not sound like crying. So he simply cleared his throat. "Can you just sit with me?"

Sansa's hand lowered, one eye still squeezed shut from the light, her mouth dipping into a frown. But it wasn't the sort of frown she'd always given him before, like the one she wore when he spilled soda over her homecoming dress, or the one she wore when Arya chose go-karting with him over swimming lessons with her, or even the one she wore when he punched Joffrey in the middle of the hall her sophomore year. No. This one was softer at the edges. And maybe it was just the morning light coming over the neighbors' roofs. Maybe it was just him being uselessly sentimental. But for some reason, her frown didn't bother him this time. Didn't bother him at all.

And damn. Was that supposed to happen?

Jon swallowed thickly, throat parched. "Will you just sit with me?" he managed again.

She set her yogurt on the step, forgotten. And then she braced her hands back on the porch ledge behind her, palms going flat over the wood. She nodded, the frown settling out into a thin, unassuming line. "I can do that," she said softly.

Jon took a breath, let it go. And then he was sure. Sitting there, staring at Sansa Stark at the ass crack of dawn, the day after his mother's funeral –

He was sure.

This was not supposed to happen.

But then, the morning passed, and so did the months, and one day Jon woke up and realized he was doing alright.

So no, he doesn't think his mother would begrudge him this happiness. Even though he misses her every damn day.

Benjen's hand on his shoulder now steadies him, and the merry-go-round of memories settles into a low hum in the back of Jon's mind. There'll be plenty enough time to get sentimental later. It's the Starks' annual cookout, after all. The first day of summer – when they stay up to the crack of dawn to greet the new season. It's got something to do with their family way back when or whatever. Making it through the night, a celebration of life, and all that cheese. Catelyn tried to explain it to him once but he was nine, and really, could she blame him for zoning out? Anyway, afterward, he'd just turned to Robb while they sat at the kitchen island, Catelyn pulling chicken nuggets out the oven for them, eyes wide as he whispered in awe, "She lets you stay up all night?"

Robb had nodded smugly, grabbing for the ketchup bottle with bravado, and after dinner at the Starks, Jon went home to beg his mother to let him join the party that year. She had an unofficial invitation herself for years, anyway. Why couldn't he?

Jon can now safely say that this annual cookout of theirs is the longest commitment he's ever made in his life.

"Your mother's in the kitchen," Ned tells Robb.

"Ooh, is she making deviled eggs?"

"When has she ever not made deviled eggs for this thing?" Theon interrupts.

Ned only offers up a hand and a raised brow in a gesture that easily says True. And then he's nodding back toward the front of the house. "Use the front door. You know how she is." He reaches for one handle of the cooler, Benjen already going round the other side.

"Yeah, yeah," Robb waves off. "Shoes off in the foyer and all."

Ned gives a smile, lifting then. "Why don't you boys try to give her a hand?"

Jon feels suddenly nauseated at the idea of traversing a kitchen where Catelyn Stark is wielding any kind of sharp cutlery. "Where are the girls?" he manages to gulp out.

Stupid gulp.

Ned shifts his knowing smirk his way. "Arya and Lyanna are somewhere about, I'm sure. Jeyne's at the store getting the grill meet with Sansa and Margaery."

Okay, so maybe his palms get suddenly sweaty, and maybe his jaw ticks, and maybe he gives a disinterested shrug (a very disinterested shrug, yes, very disinterested), but dammit, she wasn't supposed to be here this summer.

"Oh," he gets out.

Oh.

Like a fucking idiot.

"Jeyne's at the store?" Robb asks, brows furrowed.

Oh thank god for overprotective Robb. Jon feels infinitely less under the microscope when the collective attention shifts to him instead.

"What, does she plan on carrying that all back herself?" he asks, huffing.

Ned blinks at him. "Like I said, she's with Sansa and Margaery."

"She's nearly eight months, Dad."

Theon claps a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, she's pregnant, not incapacitated."

"You're gonna be incapacitated pretty soon, I swear to god."

Ned rolls his eyes at his son, hefting the cooler up with his brother on the other side. "Calm down, Robb. If you only knew some of the things your mother did when she was pregnant with you," he starts off, smile twisting.

Benjen barks a laugh at that. "Ned, do you remember when she – "

"Oh god, let's not do this, please," Robb groans, face pulled back into a grimace.

Ned just shakes his head, smile wide. "Go help your mother." And then the two older men shuffle off back into the yard, cooler and ice bags held between them.

Jon shoves his hands in his pockets, thumbs hooking at his belt loops. "So?"

Robb pulls his phone back out. "Give me a sec."

Theon throws his head back in a dramatic sigh.

But Jeyne picks up pretty quickly it seems, because Robb perks up instantly at the sound of her voice on the other end. "Jeyne, hey, babe. Dad said you were at the store?"

Jon pretends not to listen in.

Robb pouts. "We could have gotten it, babe. You know I brought Jon and Theon back today. You didn't have to – " He silences, pout turning into a slight purse of his lips. "Yeah, I know, but – " Another silence. He huffs. "Your feet aren't hurting?"

Jon grins wide at that, try as he might to smother it.

In a way, Robb and Jeyne have become a strange sort of model for Jon these last years. Not a bar, per se, but an example, at least. That much, at least, for sure. It's one of the things that threw his relationship with Ygritte into such stark perspective. Where their relationship was enduring, his was combustible. Where theirs was comfort, his was a trial. Where theirs was honest and open, his felt like a never-ending minefield.

And now: "Your feet aren't hurting?"

Jon wants to laugh. It's such a simple, unloaded question. But Robb may as well have said 'I'm in love with you' and it'd have meant the same thing.

So yeah. Not a bar. But a hell of a lot closer than he's ever gotten to it himself.

Theon lets out an impatient groan at Robb's phone call. Robb only glares at him. "Okay, babe. Yeah. That's fine. But wait, uh, can you pick up some of those chips I like? You know the ones. The onion thingies. The – yeah! Those! Get me some funyuns." He smiles blindingly. "Thanks, babe. Oh, and tell Sansa not to make you carry everything!" He stops, frowns. "I mean, it's not like she's – " Robb stops again, looking down. "Alright, I'm sorry, babe. Yeah. Yeah, okay. Love you, too. See you at home." He hangs up.

Theon immediately makes a whipping sound, gesture and all, a crooked smile breaking over his features, and if Jon hadn't valued his life so much, he might have done similarly. As it is, Robb is only trying to strangle Theon at the moment, which is fine by him.

"Sansa's coming?"

There. He said it. He asked.

Not so fucking difficult, after all.

Robb stops his attempt at throttling Theon to look over at Jon. "Of course, she's coming. It's the annual Starkfest." He gives him a disbelieving face.

Jon's brows hit his hairline. "I'm sorry, the what?"

"Starkfest."

Jon shakes his head as though clearing his ears. "Yeah, still didn't get that."

"Come on, doesn't it sound epic?"

"Sounds lame as fuck to me," Theon pipes up.

"That's your problem, Theon. You think your opinion matters."

Theon gives Robb a dramatically wounded look, hand to his heart. "Oh spare me, cruel viper."

Robb throws his hands in the air. "What? Bran likes it."

Theon drops his hand from his chest. The look, too. "I'm sorry, but Bran is most definitely not the measurement of coolness here. What are you on?"

"I think Bran's cool," Jon says on a shrug, hands still in his pockets.

"Okay, you've forfeited your right to speak in this convo," Theon says.

"Oh come on," Robb says. "'Starkfest' is perfect."

"I thought she was staying at Margaery's this summer," Jon says before his courage can fail him.

And fuck, are his palms still sweating? Jon bites off a growl of frustration at himself. Fuck that shit.

Robb blinks at him. "What, Sansa?"

Jon nods. Maybe because he's afraid of saying more.

"Yeah, she is, but she's not missing the cookout. Brought Margaery, too. They've been staying at the house for like, four days now. Heading back south tomorrow though. I hear they're going to a concert down in White Harbor before they get back to Marg's."

Jon furrows his brows at that. "She's leaving tomorrow?"

Robb nods.

"She's not staying up with you guys?"

Robb waves him off. "Ah, don't worry about it. She never made it to sunrise before, anyway. Always passed out at least an hour or two away. She'd probably appreciate the sleep more, actually," he shrugs out.

Jon purses his lips. "Right."

And all at once, he's wondering if she still keeps her hair long. If she still carries that dragonfly keychain on her phone. If she still pulls at the edge of her skirt when she's nervous.

If she still hates him for last winter.

Jon clears his throat, nodding back toward the front of the house. "Your dad said Arya was in?"

Robb smiles at him, thankfully oblivious to his desperate change of subject. "Yeah, she's not taking summer classes this year. Come on."

And then they're making their way back across the front lawn. Jon still takes care to avoid Mrs. Stark's zinnias.

He wonders, briefly, if Robb isn't the only whipped one here, but he doesn't think too long on it.

They're just fucking zinnias anyway. So maybe he just cares too much about the things he shouldn't. Attaches to things that give no promise of attachment back. And damn, there's some psycho-analytic bullshit somewhere in that mess, if he looks hard enough, but he doesn't.

He's gotten pretty good at loving the transient, after all.

Sansa Stark shouldn't be any different.

It's not really something that needs another look, he finds. Not then. And not now.

They make it to the front door before he can linger long on it, and then Robb is jiggling his key into the lock, and then he's pushing the door open, and then he's hollering Arya's name into the open foyer. Something about it sends Jon to beaming.

Home.

He's home.

Thunder seems to come down the stairwell. Jon looks up to find it's Arya. He barely opens his arms in time. She launches herself at him, jumping into his arms, winding her legs around him.

"Jon!" she cries, ecstatic.

And oh fuck!

"Arya, fuck, my back! My back!" Jon nearly crumples from her attack, stumbling against the end of the stairwell. "Holy shit, get off me," he chokes out beneath her bone-crushing hug.

She slips from him effortlessly, huffing a strand of hair out of her face. "Old man," she grouses, punching at his shoulder with affection. She grins up at him, crooked and earnest.

He softens at the sight. "You're getting too old for that."

Arya rolls her eyes. "Or you're just getting all rickety."

"That's my vote," Theon says at his side. He opens his arms wide for Arya with an expectant smile.

"Ew," she deadpans, one hand settling at her hip.

"Missed you too, runt," he says, ruffling her hair.

"Oh fuck off, Theon." She shoves his hand away, but he just brushes further into the house.

"The boys back from school yet?" he asks into the open foyer.

Bran suddenly crosses the threshold travelling from the dining room into the den with his face almost adhered to his phone. "It's summer break, dumbass." He promptly disappears around the corner.

Theon plants his hands on his hips. "Ah, that's a yes, then."

"Hey, babe, your Dad wants you and Rickon to help get all the pool stuff out of the shed," Lyanna Mormont says then, coming down the hall toward them before sidling up beside Arya with a hand at her waist.

Arya swings an arm around her shoulder. "Lyanna, you remember my brothers," she says, motioning to the three in the doorway.

"Unfortunately." Lyanna grimaces, and it makes her already dour face even more so. And yet, her hand at Arya's waist is tender, her glance toward her girlfriend softened somewhat, and Jon has learned by now to keep his smile in check.

He watches Arya's hand curl around Lyanna's shoulder and wishes for nothing else in that moment but many more such years ahead of them.

"Good to see you're still in high spirits, Lyanna," Robb smiles brilliantly at her.

"Yeah, well, you're not my brothers, thank god, soooo," she smacks her lips, turning to Arya. "Babe, you gotta get Rickon."

And just like that, the moment is shattered. Jon heaves a sigh.

"Rickon!" Arya yells up the stairwell behind Lyanna's head.

"Arya, what the fuck?" she snaps, hand to her ear.

She shrugs down at her girlfriend. Footsteps thump at the upstairs landing. "What?" an annoyed voice calls down, only a pair of socked feet in view as Jon cranes his neck up the stairs without success.

"Dad wants you."

"I'm not falling for that again."

"Fine," she says, shrugging, steering Lyanna into the kitchen. "But the boys are here."

Silence for a beat, and then the socked feet take a few cautious steps down, and Rickon's head pops out beneath the second floor obscuring the rest of the stairs. His eyes go wide. Smile, too. "Jon!" he beams, bounding down.

And fuck, it's a man coming down the stairs now, not some socked feet or a boy he remembers, but a fucking beast of a man. Jon teeters back, shooting straight from his lean. "Rickon?" he asks, eyes wide.

The boy – man – jumps the last three steps and comes hurtling toward him, arms wide. Jon opens reflexively, afraid he'll be mauled otherwise, and Rickon slams into him, rocking him with his hug. It warms something instantly in Jon, even if the teenager's head now sits higher than his own. He frowns at that a moment, pulling back to look at him.

Theon claps a hand on his shoulder. "Shit, Rickon, what have you been eating?"

Rickon smiles down at Theon.

Holy shit, he's smiling down at Theon, Jon realizes in horror. And then he squints at Rickon's chin. "What is this peach fuzz?" he laughs, letting the boy go, fingers flicking at his baby beard.

Rickon slaps his hand away good-naturedly. "You've been gone too long, man."

"Clearly."

"No hug for me?" Robb asks with a mock pout.

Rickon levels him with a dead stare. "You were literally here this morning."

"Doesn't mean I don't miss you," he croons, looping an appendage around Rickon's neck and tugging him into his chest.

"Oh god, no, stop it!"

"Come here," Robb smooches, wrestling with him through the hallway toward the back of the house. Rickon's protests drown out somewhere past the hallway bathroom.

The smile comes easy and wide along Jon's face.

Home, he reminds himself.

No take-backs.

#jonsa #jonsa fic #jon snow #sansa stark #red curtain #modern jonsa #my writing #got fanfic

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gameofdrarry · 4 years ago

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Wizards Hearts Recs: Cursed Object(s)

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Misdirection by lea_anberlyn Rated: Teen and Up Words: 3764 Tags: Humor, Snarky!Malfoy, Epistolary Summary: Harry buys a new owl after the war – a bird he soon realises is cursed to send letters to the person he hates most. Draco Malfoy finds the whole thing hilarious. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 your heart'll race, hard to sleep by orphan_account Rated: Explicit Words: 3897 Tags: Insomnia, Curse Breaking, grumpy Draco, Humour, please think I'm funny, Blow Jobs, I have no chill and can't take things slow apparently Summary: Draco's bed is cursed. Don't ask him about it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Sucker by BasiliskCur, lefthandofglory Rated: Explicit Words: 117917 Tags: Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Bottom Draco, Dubious Consent, Top Harry, Top Draco Malfoy, Twincest, Sharing a Bed, Contracts, Semi-Public Sex, Negotiations, Service, First Time, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Brief instance of suicidal behavior, Smut, Eventual Angst with an even more Eventual Happy Ending, Because it's all fun and magic sex contracts until two former enemies, with a shit ton of emotional baggage, fall in love Summary: Fred and George have discovered there used to be a dedicated cocksucker for each dorm. Now there's an interesting tradition that Hogwarts: A History somehow forgot to mention. Anyway. The twins. A magic sex contract. What's the worry? Poor Harry. He's killed Voldemort and is back at Hogwarts studying for NEWTs but he's still got to learn the two most important lessons of his life: 1. How to suck cock. 2. Always read the fine print. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 In Love With the Ferret by Pineau_noir Rated: Explicit Words: 21936 Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Awkward Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, But Mostly Comfort, Bellatrix isn't in the fic but her legacy lives on, Cursed objects, blink and you'll miss it case fic, so many songs from the '00s, Pining, Bad Puns, they all work at the ministry, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, a little girl gets cursed, but she's fine by the time Harry and Draco are called to the scene, NOTHING IS GRAPHIC, Song fic, because Draco loves Muggle music, Banter, giggly sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Harry mentions the time Luna gave him organic tea that got him high one time, Bottom Harry Potter, Top Draco Malfoy, sex magic because let's be honest, who wouldn't want to clean up with magic, oh yeah and there's scene where Harry's in the shower, wanking, If that's your thing - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, domestic drarry, SO, Domestic, Set in 2008, So book canon timeline, H/D Wireless 2020 Summary: Harry has never been the most observant bloke. Sometimes to the point of him not realising his feelings for a particular pointy, pale git. And it's not his fault if literally everyone else knows about said feelings except for Harry and the git in question. So it's really not his fault, when faced with the scope of his feelings, he suddenly has a hard time talking to one Draco Malfoy. Or looking him in the eye. Or not being a total weirdo around him. There's nothing to do but take the advice of his friends and try to woo Draco over dinners with friends, Ministry cases, and an unfortunately named Italian restaurant. Harry just can't stop the flutter in his chest when he sees Draco smile. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 slipping through the cracks (of your cold embrace) by swisstae Rated: Mature Words: 14406 Tags: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Established Relationship, Nightmares, Memory Magic, Cursed objects, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy, Soft sex, Anal Sex, Misunderstandings, Arguments, nightmares being lived out, Heavy Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, all the angst basically, Hopeful Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Sectumsempra Scene | Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter's Duel in the Bathroom, Self Loathing Draco Malfoy, Spoilery Warning in End Notes, okay so this is just two silly bois who need to have a grown up conversation, considering they ARE grown-ups in this fic, cathartic crying can be found here Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Archenemies at school, on opposite sides of the war that tore the Wizarding world in half -- and yet, lovers who overcame all odds to be together. That's where it all starts. And maybe, that's where it all ends. (in which Draco finds a cursed object, shit goes down, and everyone needs to talk about Feelings.) ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Gossip Boys by mypetelephant Rated: Explicit Words: 24093 Tags: N/A Summary: Confiscated Dark objects have been disappearing from the Ministry, and journalist Harry Potter is on the case. Unfortunately, he has to drag along Draco Malfoy, gossip columnist extraordinaire, whose subject of choice is everyone's favorite desultory hero. Forced to contend with cursed objects, international smugglers, and a lesson on the value of gossip, all Harry wants is to put out a respectable article. Oh, and to forget a night that only Draco knows and will never write about. Written for HD Career Fair 2012. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Paws of Fury by Veritas03 Rated: Explicit Words: 87190 Tags: Male Slash, kitten fic, Mystery, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Complete Summary: "Bellow, bluster… your rage is insignificant. No more than the mewing of a kitten. Do not be afraid. He will save you. Calm you. Love you." Harry has a furry little problem – but Draco’s scent soothes the savage beastie. Will Draco be able to save him when Harry’s world begins to crumble? Bubbles, blowjobs, mystery – and something rotten in the place of Grimmauld. Yes, yes - it's a Kitten!Harry fic. I know what you’re thinking - but it was there and I had to get it out of my system. Give it a chance. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love It or List It by bangyababy Rated: Explicit Words: 13767 Tags: Grimmauld Place, Renovations, Fuck Or Die, Forced Proximity, bed sharing, Top Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Potter, Praise Kink, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Feelings, carefree Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, A Time Skip Summary: Draco Malfoy has been mysteriously hired to renovate Grimmauld Place. Harry Potter has nothing better to do since leaving the Aurors. Throw in an ancient ceremonial vase, a neglected (and magical house), loneliness, and you've got the beginnings of a beautiful relationship. That is if they (or the house) don't kill each other first. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Out of the Woods by Janieohio Rated: Teen and Up Words: 34987 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, POV Alternating, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Background Relationships, supportive friends, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Mind Healer Harry Potter, Shop Owner Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Harry Potter Raises Teddy Lupin, Sassy Harry Potter, Sarcastic Draco Malfoy, Minor Violence, Minor Injuries, Mystery, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Cute Teddy Lupin, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Explicit Language, Yoga, Into the Woods References, Therapy, Custody Issues, Minor Character Death, Minor Character Engagement, Dismissive Attitudes about Mental Illness, Childhood Trauma, Fae & Fairies, Brothers Grimm, Fairy Tale Elements - see notes for more details, H/D Erised 2020, Harry Potter Has Long Hair, Kid Fic, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Neville Longbottom/Hannah Abbott/Luna Lovegood, Background Polyamory, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Draco Malfoy/Original Male Characters Summary: Teddy closes his eyes, wishing beyond wishes that the two men in his life whom he loves more than anyone would just learn to get along. A light flares. Teddy cries out, and the room falls silent. Harry and Draco struggle to find a way to escape a world of dark fairy tales and get back to Teddy, but the challenges they face are not all hidden in the woods. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Under the Bludgeonings of Chance by spookywoods Rated: Mature Words: 45130 Tags: Case Fic, Aurors, Scotland, Department of Mysteries, Kneazles, Not Epilogue Compliant, Herbology, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Kissing, Pining, Angst, Murder Mystery, Kidnapping, Cockblocking Ficus Summary: After eight months on his first undercover mission, Harry suddenly finds himself caught up in a bizarre mix of events revolving around a red kneazle, the murder of a rich Pureblood, and an unapologetic, acrobatic Draco Malfoy. Featuring Greek Curses, out of season Christmas Jumpers, and Gilderoy Lockhart's sister (or is it?). ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Before the World Was Made by daftfear Rated: Teen and Up Words: 42976 Tags: EWE, magical bonding, Language Summary: Draco has done everything in his power to leave the past behind him. He’s established himself a successful business and built a reputation around the quality of his work and the breadth of his knowledge. But when aurors show up at his shop one afternoon, seeking his expertise on a peculiar item of questionable origins, they completely overthrow the precarious balance in Draco’s life. Trust Potter to bring danger and destruction in his wake, along with a painful reminder of all the things Draco is trying to forget. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Want a Whole Lotta Love by musiclily88 Rated: Not Rated Words: 1762 Tags: Quarantine, Cursed Object, draco is a researcher of cursed objects, Harry is an Auror, This is very niche Summary: Cursed objects and quarantine ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Slytherin Urn by ICMezzo Rated: Explicit Words: 4652 Tags: magic kink, Spell-Casting kink, Sexual Fantasy, Redemption, Unspeakable Draco, Auror Harry Summary: Nothing turns Harry on quite like redemption. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 An Auror, A Curse Breaker and a Tea Pot by dracogotgame Rated: General Words: 1572 Tags: Aurors, Curse Breaking, Humour, Fluff, Oneshot, Creatures, injuries Summary: Harry fights a teapot and loses. At least it gets better from there. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Impervius by ravenclawsquill Rated: Explicit Words: 10997 Tags: Humor, Bickering, Case Fic, Forced Proximity, Romance, Drizzle - Freeform, Banter, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Pink Umbrella - Freeform, Wet Clothing, Competence Kink, pub, Flirting, Hideous Decor, Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Bottom Draco, Top Harry, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Disastrous Transfiguration Summary: Harry and Draco are working together on a case in the beautiful English Lake District. Or, it would be beautiful if only it would stop raining. Fortunately, Harry has an umbrella. Unfortunately, it's pink and frilly, and Draco would rather die than share it with him. Featuring a cursed cave, endless bickering and a pesky flock of sheep. ❤️ Read on AO3

#game of drarry #drarry #drarry recs #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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stoopsbookstore · 5 years ago

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Prince!Hyunjin Kink Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's so soft for you after sex, it's a swap of roles, he becomes your servant. He is drawing baths, helping you change out of clothes, he's getting you water, making up excuses if someone asks him where you are. He is an A+ plus in the aftercare department.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His chest. He's been working on it lately and loves when you two are cuddling and you lay his head on his chest.

Hyunjin loves seeing your legs. The servant outfit normally covers them, so when you two are alone together, he can admire them, scars, bruises, bumps and all.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Too messy for him, he tries to keep a towel near by to clean it up because he hates the feeling of the stickiness.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to fuck you on his dad's throne. He's so tired of being one of eight perfect princes, he wants to stick it to his father at least once and hoping you two don't get caught.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's been locked away with his brothers for years, the only social interaction he gets is from you, the other princes and the other staff.

He doesn't like to admit it, but you're the only person he's ever been with, so you'll be teaching him everything or learning along with him.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary. He doesn't know much outside of the basics. But he has noticed a book in the library that's all about sex and he's trying to find a time he can swipe it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Due to the fact that he's inexperienced, mishaps are bound to happen and Hyunjin wants both of you to feel comfortable with each other, so if there's a fart or a cramp, he just laughs it off.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He trims it. He actually got a chance to glance through the book and the one thing that stood out to him is "Keep it trimmed, don't let it be too messy" so one night when Jisung and Seungmin were out of the room, he just grabbed a pair of scissors from Jisung's desk and started cutting. Now it's just a force of habit to trim it every other week.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's more so goofy than intimate, but Hyunjin does try his best for romance. He will try to find an empty bathtub because he only knows cliches of romantic novels and bathtubs are always romantic. Add some rose petals and candles, and he is ready to g-

"Hyunjin honey... one of the candles fell."

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Everytime he has tried to masturbate, someone has interrupted him. Chan found him in the bathroom, Seungmin caught him in the bathroom, Changbin and Jisung caught him in one of the closet, he just can't find any fucking time, it's a miracle you two find any time together.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He doesn't have many, if he's being honest. He just knows that he likes you being on top and having you wear his shawl when you ride him.

Someone, please teach this babyboy.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His bed, if he can get Seungmin and Jisung out of the room. But if he can't, then definitely the bathroom in the basement, no one really goes there unless it's for fucking.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Call him baby boy, let him know you want him, tell him you need him. He's a simple boy, just give him the word and he'll find a way and a place.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

His biggest turn off would have to be disturbed. That's the quickest way for him to lose his boner, is someone just barging in. He does know he doesn't like being watched since he is literally watched almost every second of his day.

One time you two were in the pantry, far enough back to not be seen and a maid named Dahyun barge in, Hyunjin had to pull himself out of your mouth and run out of the pantry while you pretended you fell and made sure to wipe your face before you were caught.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

His skill level is non-existent and you'll have to teach him, even if you're not experienced as well. He prefer giving because Hyunjin loves to learn about new things that make you feel good.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow, but rough. He's still new to having sexual experiences, so his thrusts will be a bit messy at first.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

They make him feel bad because he doesn't get to spend as much time with you as he liked, but at least it's some time with you.

It's not so much a quickie as a very heavy petting session.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

No, no, no no, no, no no no. The only risky thing he wants to do is the throne room, but not until he is older and more experienced.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Although he's inexperienced, he can still go for a while, an hour and a half at the most, 2-3 rounds before he wants to go to bed.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

None. Hyunjin can't really keep toys in a shared room with 2 other guys without it being found and you can't keep them in the servant chambers because that's like 20 people in a room.

Plus Hyunjin wants more experience with his hands before either of you introduce his hands.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He eye-fucks you every chance he gets. He reaches for your hand when he passes you in the hallway. It's not teasing per-say, but rather small signs that he is hoping you would get the message to go meet him for a "meeting."

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not loud, but he is vocal. Hyunjin is the type to groan and moan, but not scream in pleasure.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hyunjin wants to fuck you in the dungeon. He overheard Prince Chan talking to Prince Jisung about how he took Princess Allison ;) shameless author avatar, not going to lie there and it felt so intense and good.

The one time he tried to take you down there, two guards were beating a man who had stolen some jewellery from a stall to resell them to the Queen.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

About 6 inches, maybe a little less. He's definitely a grower, not a shower.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Honestly, not that high. He'll fuck maybe once a week, but he's always so stressed due to his princely duties.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's actually even more wired than normal. He's pumped up because the relationship is taboo, a servant and a prince? Cliche, but Hyunjin loves it.

#Hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids au #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #prince!Hyunjin #full kink alphabet #my writings

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lapixie · 5 years ago

Text

Ten Years Later Chapter 5

Chapter 1 ll Chapter 2 ll Chapter 3 ll Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“I’ll be brave. Let’s go with dare.” Tony said with a small laugh.

“Oh, Tony, you are going to regret that!” Natasha positively cackled at him, “I dare you to tell us your most embarrassing moment to date.”

“Uh, Nat, that’s a truth…” Tony said, trying to get out of it.

“No, it’s a dare to tell us a truth. Keep up.”

Okay, what could he say that was bad, but wasn’t his actual most embarrassing moment? Oh, maybe that time he got shut down by the Playboy model for her to make a play for Steve, only to get rejected…

“When I was thirteen, my mom walked in on me humping my pillow, calling out my best friend’s name. I noticed she was there just as I was cumming. I couldn’t masturbate for a year, because every time I tried, I saw my mom in the doorway, staring at me horrified.”

Wait! He didn’t mean to say that! That was his actual most embarrassing moment! What the hell happened?! He looked at Natasha, who looked like that cat that just got all the cream, and just knew that she had something to do with it.

“Nat, what did you do?” He growled out darkly.

Looking innocently, too innocently, at him, she just batted her eyes (literally! Like that’s not suspicious in itself!) and replied, “Nooothinggg…”

“Yeah, that was convincing. Fine. Bruce, truth or dare?”

“Um, I think I’ll go with dare?” Bruce said timidly.

“Okay, I dare you to…” he looked around for inspiration, “pick a number, 1-9, and I’ll give you your dare.”

Giving Tony a suspicious look, Bruce finally ground out the number three. Counting three people down from him, Tony pointed at Rhodey and said, “I dare you to give him a lap dance!”

Bruce blushed, but gamely stood up and got in front of Rhodey. Before he could start, Tony stopped him, holding up his finger.

“Wait! I think we need music to set the mood! Friday, can we get a good song playing?”

With that, Pony, by Ginuwine started playing over the speakers, causing Bruce’s blush to deepen even more.

“Tony, I will get you back for this,” he said as he started gyrating above Rhodey’s lap. Rhodey just laughed and started pretending to smack Bruce’s ass. Tony made him finish the song. He thought Bruce would pick him next, but, instead, he chose Peter. Tony arched his eyebrow, mouthing ‘bold move’.

“Peter, truth or dare?” Bruce looked so innocent, Tony knew he was up to something.

“I’m gonna go with truth.”

Bruce smirked towards Tony, then replied, “What’s your darkest fantasy?”

Peter’s face went red as he opened his mouth to reply. “My darkest fantasy is to be held down and not allowed to move as I get fucked forcefully,” as he talked, his face slowly went from red to white, “I want to fight against it, but to have him put me in my place. I want him to put his hand around my throat and squeeze until I have to work just to breath. I want him to fuck me, caring only about getting off, not giving a damn about if I like it or not. I want him to tell me I’m a slut and that the only thing I’m good as is a cum dumpster. Then, when he comes, I want him to cuddle me and tell me what a great job I did and how proud he is of me.”

After he finished talking, there was silence. Then Flash whistled low under his breath and mumbled, “Anyone else completely turned on right now?”

Immediately, Steve, MJ, Tony and Bruce raised their hands.

“Well, maybe I’m bi?” Bruce questioned, breaking the tension.

“Holy shit Peter. That’s hot. That’s so hot. You sure you want to stay my ex? I could buy a strap-on…”MJ wiggled her eyebrows at Peter, causing him to laugh.

“Okay, and on that completely humiliating note, which I’m not even sure why I told you about,” he said looking towards Nat, who still sat there innocently, “I’m next.” With an evil look in his eye, he looked at Pepper. “Pep, truth or dare?”

Giving him a cold look, Pepper just replied, “Dare.”

“I dare you to go to the person you have feelings for and give them a big ole fat kiss!” Peter was almost chortling by the time he was done talking.

Giving a huff, Pepper got up and stalked over to Rhodey. Glaring at Peter, she leaned down and kissed the stunned man softly on his lips. As she walked back to her seat, Rhodey finally moved, whipping his head around to her, breathing out, “Really?”

Pepper rolled her eyes, replying, “Really. We can talk more after. There’s been some strange going ons and I want this conversation to be private.” With that, she cut a glance Nat’s way.

“Natasha, truth or dare?” Pepper almost purred out.

“Natasha just looked back at her, unimpressed, as she answered, “Dare.”

“I dare you to finish Tony’s drink. In front of us.”

Nat blanched a little, then gamely went and picked up Tony’s glass. As she raised it to her lips, she dropped it, spilling it all over the floor.

“Oops. Guess I’ll go make another,” Natasha said as she started walking towards the kitchen.

“Not so fast, Nat! It’s my dare, so I get to choose what you do since you “accidentally” spilled that one,” Pepper gave a hard look to Natasha. “You get to finish Peter’s drink now. And as a world class spy, it would be really suspicious if you spilled this one too.”

Natasha slowly walked over to Peter, got a grumpy look on her face, then downed his drink.

“Oh, and I think I will go refill the drinks. Have a seat, Nat, I’ll be right back.” With that, Pepper took Tony and Peter’s glasses and left the room. Natasha had no choice but to go sink back into her seat. When Pepper got back, she gave them their drinks, and then gestured for Natasha to continue the game.

“Steve, truth or dare?” Natasha turned to Steve and asked.

“Uh, I guess I’ll go with truth?” Steve said, as if he was confused by what had just happened.

“Okay, tell us the worst thing you’ve gotten away with doing.”

“Uh, well, I guess...back in the forties when I joined the army, it was still illegal to be homosexual, but I still fucked Bucky every chance I got.”

“Ooh, you’re so bad Steve,” Tony snickered. Like that wasn’t something completely obvious. Of course everyone knew Steve and Bucky were together back then. They were together until the day Bucky got snapped.

“Okay, um. I guess it’s my turn. MJ, truth or dare?”

“I’ll go with dare. Live dangerously,” MJ dryly replied, rolling her eyes. It was Steve, what was he gonna do?

“Okay. Uh. I dare you toooo…”he looked around and then smiled, “I dare you to change clothes with Flash for the rest of the game. Including underclothes.”

MJ burst out laughing, looking at Flash. “Oh, have fun wearing my bra and panties for the rest of the night!”

Flash looked a bit mutinous as he left the room with her, muttering under his breath, “It wasn’t even my dare!”

As they waited for the two of them to return, Pepper, Tony, and Peter shared a look, then looked at Natasha, then back at each other. They knew something was up. And now that Nat had finished Peter’s drink, they could figure it out.

MJ and Flash walked back into the room and sat down, Flash picking at the thong riding up his ass. “I really don’t understand how you girls put up with this!” he complained. Tony thought it was very interesting that Peter blushed at that.

“Okay, umm…Happy! Truth or dare?”

Happy looked over at Tony, grumbling, “Why do I do this? He’s lucky I love him,” then a little louder, he looked at MJ and said, “Truth.”

“Okay, have you ever cheated on a partner?”

With a look of relief, Happy answered, “No. That’s not something I would do.”

Peter looked over at him, pursing his lips, saying, “Good. Keep it that way when we get May back.”

Happy rolled his eyes, and looked at Flash. “Truth or dare, kid?”

“I’ll go with dare. Do you worst old man!” Flash never had been very smart. Happy knew just where to hit him.

“I dare you to take a selfie with your finger up your nose, and post it to all of your social media platforms. No explanations allowed.”

Looking like Happy had just killed him, Flash just sat there with his mouth hanging open, until Happy made a shooing motion to get him going. He slowly took out his phone and opened it up. Looking like he was going to cry, he stuck his finger in his nose and took the picture. A few clicks on his phone later, MJ and Peter got notifications on their phones, letting them know that Flash had updated. Laughing uproariously, they high fived as they took turns commenting on his different platforms.

Flash huffed, then looked at Peter and bit out, “Truth or dare, Pete?”

Knowing this was going to suck either way, with a butthurt Flash doing the asking, Peter chose dare.

“I dare you to perform a striptease in the middle of the circle to one entire song. The only thing you can leave on is your underwear!”

Peter blushed, but stood up and went to the center. Tony held up his finger, and said, “Friday, play ‘Nobody’, by Keith Sweat!”

The music started and Peter slowly started moving. He unbuttoned his shirt, still moving at a snail's pace. He shrugged it off his shoulders, and let it fall until it was hooked around his wrists. Taking it into one hand, he threw it at Flash, hitting him in the face, causing Flash to just laugh. Bring his hands to his pants, he unbuttoned them, and slooowly brought the zipper down.

Shimmying out of them, he left them puddled on the floor, and started moving his hips, running his hands up his body, but Tony couldn’t take his eyes off of the thong, the pink silky thong, that his boy was wearing. If someone had asked him what 2+2 was, he wouldn’t have been able to answer. Out of the corners of his eyes, he noticed he was not the only one shifting in their seats, trying to relieve the ache that Peter was causing.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better worse, Peter sank to his knees, crawled over to MJ, and proceeded to writhe against her. Laughing, she pushed him away, straight towards Tony. He couldn’t breath as Peter put his hands on his knees, pushing them apart, arching his chest against Tony’s hard cock. He knew he had to have felt it. Peter followed the arching of his body, standing up, and Tony thought it was over, but instead, he just closed Tony’s legs, placing his knees on either side of him, and ground down against him.

Tony could feel Peter’s own hard cock against his, and he knew it had not been hard when MJ pushed him over. That thong left nothing to the imagination. He was so turned on it was painful, as Peter started to give him the filthiest lap dance he had ever received. He was about to cum, and looking at Peter’s face, he knew he was too. Thinking fast, he gave a signal to Friday to cut the lights. As soon as they were in darkness, he grabbed a tissue from his pocket, taking both his and Peter’s cocks out, stroking them just once, causing them to both to cum into the tissue. He quickly put them both away, shoving the sticky tissue back in his pockets, and signaled for the lights to return.

“Huh, that was weird,” he let out breathlessly, “Pep, did you forget to pay the lights?”

Giving him a look, she replied, “Yes, Tony. I forgot to pay the lights. That are powered by an arc reactor. That you created.”

Finally looking at Peter, he almost got hard again, never-mind his middle age refractory period. The boy looked wrecked. In the best, most sinful, way possible. Giving Tony a secret smile, he mouthed ‘thank you’ as he backed away over to his pants, putting them back on as he walked to his seat.

Rolling her eyes, because nothing got past Pepper, she motioned for Peter to continue the game.

“Natasha, truth or dare?” Peter asked with an intense look on his face.

Shaking her head, muttering ‘great spy I am’ under her breath, Natasha finally answered, “I give. Truth.”

“What the hell did you do to mine and Tony’s drinks?!”

Giving a sigh, Natasha answered, “I spiked it with a new truth serum that SHIELD came out with.”

“What?! Why?!” Peter yelped out, causing Natasha to smirk and shake her head.

“Uh, uh, uh...one question per turn, Паук.” Turning her head, she added, “Rhodey, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said, while furrowing his brows, obviously thinking about what she had just said.

“Okay, who was the star of your last erotic fantasy?”

Rhodey flushed and answered bashfully, “Pepper.”

Pepper smiled at him as he continued, “Tony, truth or dare?”

“I’ll go with truth. Be nice to me honeybear!” Tony replied, throwing him a dazzling smile.

“Okay, we’ll keep with the old-school theme and ask a grade school question. Who do you have a crush on?”

Tony went silent, just looking at Rhodey, like he had been betrayed. Finally, he opened his mouth and with a wounded air, answered, “Pete.”

Natasha smirked to herself, Rhodey looked confused, Pepper looked pleased, Happy rolled his eyes, Bruce looked unfazed, Steve looked a bit upset, Flash looked mad, MJ looked smug, and Peter...Peter looked like he had just gotten hit by a bus. But in a good way. A smile slowly started forming on his lips, which Tony had every intention of licking off later tonight.

“Nat, last question, and then I’m done. Truth or dare?”

“It doesn’t matter either way, does it? Fine, I’ll make it easy for you. Truth.”

“Why? Why did you dose Peter and me with a truth serum?”

“It was fun? Okay, no, honestly, it was because you two idiots were pining for each other, but would have never admitted it without help. Also...yeah, it was fun.”

That was so...Natasha. He wanted to smack her upside the head (in a totally non-violent way, because he did not hit girls, even girls that could totally whoop his ass) at the same time that he thanked her profusely. Because now he had Peter looking at him, licking his lips, with bedroom eyes on full display.

And on that note…

“Okay, good games everyone! I had fun, you had fun, we all had fun, I feel very welcomed back, now leave.”

There was a mixture of laughter and grumbling, as everyone got to their feet and started to shuffle out, including…”Not you Pete. I have, uh, something I’d like to discuss with you.”

He could see the smirks on Pepper’s and Natasha’s faces, but he just didn’t care. Not when Peter’s face lit up and he immediately change course to walk to Tony, instead of out the door.

Waiting to speak until everyone else was gone, he just took his time looking at his boy. His moppy hair, his smile-crinkled eyes, his pert nose, his luscious lips that hopefully soon would be wrapped around his --

Clearing his throat, he continued his perusal, down past his muscled pecs, his six pack abs, his toned arms, his perfect thighs, his bubbly ass (which he couldn’t see at this moment, but knew from prior (covert) observation, was a thing of art).

As soon as the door closed behind the last person leaving, Tony stepped forward, reaching with one hand behind Peter’s head, his other grabbing his delectable ass, and brushed his lips over the others, lightly, once, twice, then again. Peter let out a small whimper, put both of his hands behind Tony’s head, and pulled him in tighter as he attacked his mouth. Grinding their cocks together, Tony let go of him long enough to reach down and lift his shirt up. Pulling away from Peter, he finished pulling his shirt off, throwing it somewhere away from them and reached for the hem of Peter’s shirt, when Peter spoke.

“I thought you wanted to talk? Isn’t that why you held me back?”

Tony held back a groan, reigning himself in. Yeah, of course, they should talk, it would be the smart thing, it’s just...he was so turned on!

He took a little step back, raising his head to look at Peter, and saw the little grin on his face. The little shit was fucking with him!

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t want to rush anything. We should talk. In fact, I just got back, we should take this slow. Maybe save anything physical for at least a month or two…”

Peter’s face had fallen when Tony started to speak, and by the end, the boy looked positively horrified. Then he seemed to take in Tony’s face and huffed out a laugh. Tony smirked back, saying, “Never mess with the master, kid.” Then he leaned back in and started gently kissing up Peter’s neck, feeling him shiver.

“I won’t. Promise. Just don’t stop.” Peter was already beginning to sound wrecked. Finally lifting the hem of Peter’s shirt, he backed away long enough to pull it over his head, tossing it to join his on the floor.

“Oh God, Mr. Stark, I’ve wanted this for so long!” Peter moaned out as Tony’s lips latched onto one of his nipples. Hearing him call him Mr. Stark, in that breathless voice, Tony could feel his already hard cock give a twitch.

“Oh baby boy, anything you want, it’s yours,” he breathed out brokenly, reaching down and slipping his hand beneath Peter’s pants, feeling that silky material already getting wet.

“Oh, daddy, I want you to fuck me!” Tony almost came in his pants (again) hearing those words moaned from Peter’s mouth. He never realized he had a daddy kink before.

“Let’s take this to my room. I want to take my time with you.” Tony ground out, already pulling Peter with him, wishing he could just teleport them there.

Tag List

@stxrker-fan-xx @lokitonypeter @professional-fangirl75

#starker #starker fic #tony x peter #peter x tony #au #ironspider #ten years later

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captain-aralias · 5 years ago

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Worse ways of writing a sex scene - Hang the Moon deleted scenes

as usual, after writing something, i have a doc with a bunch of stuff that i wrote and then deleted because i thought it wasn’t working, but i liked it enough that i thought... maybe i will regret my decision to delete this and want to either put it back extant or refer back to it.

it’s a random collection of stuff - not the best ideas i had but didn’t use unfortunately. because to end up in the doc, i have to have written whatever it is and remembered to copy and paste it, rather than just deleting it.

as usual - i thought i might as well put it on the internet as not, although the real version is better.

from the recently completed ‘hang the moon’ / ‘the sky isn’t black anymore’ pair - apparently i have:

- one real deleted scene, and some tiny snatches of conversation from ‘hang the moon’ (and that’s it, really - apart from some scenes i thought i would delete, but then put back in)

- some baz thoughts, and three-ish attempts at writing baz trying to explain gay sex to simon. which i clearly absolutely hated writing.

when baz says “It’s just – the Simon in my imagination knew how to do this too. Without prompting” that’s my literal pain on the page.

----

Hang the Moon:

Chapter 2 -

(barely a real deleted scene as it still basically happens this way - but i show it to you because you can see baz doesn’t start the chapter in jeans in this draft - i went back and forth on it. then i thought, he might as well go away and get changed when he gets too embarrassed at breakfast, plus we get the trad jeans moment. also in this draft mordelia is fiestier. EVEN fiestier)

“You should – tell him that,” I say when I can breathe enough to get the words out. “Please.”

“All right,” Mordelia says. She hops off the bed, like she’s going to do it now, and heads for the door.

“I didn’t mean it,” I shout after her (I don’t want Baz to murder his sister in front of me), but it’s too late. She’s already yanked the door open and Baz is actually there, standing outside. He’s dressed for tennis, I think, even though the court is being used. White shirt and shorts.

He steps back, confused. He must have been about to knock.

“Mordelia. What are you doing in Snow’s room?”

“Mum sent us to get the Chosen One for breakfast.”

It’s the first I’ve heard of it, but I’m definitely excited to try breakfast in this house. It must go on for hours. “I should probably get up then.”

Chapter 3 -

(This is the real deleted scene. It’s an alternate version of the scene between Baz and Simon after they finish talking to Fiona. i’m pretty sure it comes after this exchange, or maybe a slightly different version of essentially this exchange:

“All magicians like me,” I say, because it’s true. My magic means that I’ve never had to try to make friends at Watford. “You’re basically the only one who doesn’t.”

Baz huffs. “Well. None of the others have to live with you.”

I deleted what you’re about to read because although Simon getting upset is good for showing he loves Baz, it’s the wrong mood. so instead simon is aggressively good-humoured about it and baz is like - argh, i love him. you can see i kept some of this in the version as written with simon reflecting on where baz will live after watford in the privacy of his own head before he coincidentally finds out the answer on a shopping trip.)

That pisses me off, even though it’s not exactly a surprise that he thinks this. I know I’m a terrible roommate, much worse than Baz. Objectively. (He doesn’t try and kill me when I’m in my room so I don’t think I can count it against him). I leave my stuff around and I snore (apparently) and I leave the window open even though I know Baz gets cold easily.

“I suppose you must be looking forward to eighth year being over,” I say as he hits the bottom of the staircase. “You’ll finally be rid of me.”

Baz stops and turns back towards me. I’m still a few stairs away from the bottom, which means I’m taller than him but it’s still like Baz is looking down on me.

“Simon,” he says, like I really am exceptionally thick. “We’re getting married.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But not really. It’s not like you have to live with me, if you don’t want to.”

Chapter 4 -

(A few extra lines here - although you can also tell from the tense-choice that this was literally going to be the end of the ‘simon snow hung the moon’ scene - then i shifted it into the next section and shoved it into a flashback, which is a good trick for when you really love a piece of dialogue but it’s going to require you to write more than you want to to get to it/when it ends the scene at the wrong point)

“I’ve got a theory that your family uses insults to disguise affection.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.”

“It’s all right, Baz,” I say. “I know that means I’m amazing and you can’t wait to be my husband.”

“I can wait,” Baz says. “It’s only eight hours.”

---

that’s all i’ve got for ‘hang the moon’. sorry.

---

The sky isn’t black anymore

(fuck knows what baz is talking about in this snippet - WHAT IS THE TRUTH?? i don’t know. i think it’s from the stripping scene. but it might not be. i almost put something like this back in, but in the end, i couldn’t be bothered.)

It’s the truth. Living with Simon for seven years has required an extraordinary amount of willpower on my behalf. And this week has been a kind of blissful torture. Since the day my father told me the Old Families were looking to marry one of our own the Mage’s Heir, I’ve been in agony.

It had to be me, that was obvious. And then he arrived, in that suit – I’ve never seen Simon in a suit before, one that was made for him

I can only hope it’s been even half as bad for him; I know it wasn’t. He didn’t even know he fancied me, he didn’t even know he was gay. But this seems to be torturing

---

OK, here we go. time to try and write this scene.

I squeeze some into his hand.

“Start with your fingers – or, actually, one finger. Work up to three.”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Simon asks as I slide down the bed and end up on my stomach. I can’t work out if he sounds jealous. Or if I’d even want him to be. (He doesn’t have to be jealous. There’s never been anyone else. There could never be.)

“Not with anyone else.”

“Right,” Simon says. (He doesn’t question that statement, thank magic – I’m not feeling so honest I want to tell him about my masturbation habits.) “But you know you have to be on your front.”

“It’s easier. Apparently.”

“Yeah, but it means I can’t look at you,” Simon says. “Which you know I want to do.”

That’s true – he has been unerringly consistent on that point.

I turn over onto my back and Simon rewards me by pushing his tongue into my mouth. One of his hands is wet with lubricant and he’s holding it above me

(and again) (i like the phrase ‘without sounding like a complete pillock’ - classic british 90s slang. might bring it back later in something else)

“I’ll let you know when it’s enough. Then––”

I can’t work out how to say, then slick your cock up and shove it into me – vigorously – without sounding like a complete pillock. So instead I just do what I should have done earlier, what I haven’t been doing or even thinking about, because I didn’t want to frighten him with how much I wanted it. I slide my lubed hand down his cock, all the way to the base, before drawing it back up.

It should just have been a demonstration. One quick stroke, but Simon closes his hand around mine before I can let go – and I don’t want to let go. So I don’

(and again)

“Fingers first,” I tell him. My voice is shaking again, even though he isn’t touching me. He should be touching me.

I take his hand and draw it down my body as I roll onto my stomach. He lets me do it. I feel his slick fingers start to trace a line down the cleft of my arse. Fuck, this is happening.

Is it? He still isn’t quite there.

“Start with one,” I prompt.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Simon says.

“You won’t.”

I hear a soft snort from above me.

“All right,” I concede. “I’ll tell you if you hurt me.”

(and we’re done with that! this next bit is from slightly later in the sex scene. this is where baz has just come but is still getting off on simon’s magic. at this point i thought i was going to teleport baz out to the pond with simon, so he needed his wand with him so he could get back in. i went back and added loads of ‘where is baz’s wand’ into the narrative to get us to this point - and then i was just like, this is too unrealistic, and it’s also more dramatic if baz doesn’t go, so all of that was wasted)

I’m running one of my hands over his back and feeling for my wand in the other. I don’t know what I think I’m going to do with it. I don’t know any spells about gay sex (there aren’t in my library), but there’s much magic here it feels a waste not to cast something. Something showy. Something Simon will like. Something––

that’s all i saved. although i definitely wrote a bit for simon at the end where he says something like ‘If we see your dad, I’m not waiting. Just run’. which i thought was funny - but again, wrong mood. so you just get a glance towards it in baz’s POV about simon being wrapped in the blanket.

the fic was also going to end with ‘on love’s light wings’, although i never wrote it. i don’t know how obvious that is now i told you my trick about putting stuff you like but don’t want to lose into flashbacks. like baz, i love the image of baz carrying simon up to the window, and another major spell that only works if you’re really in love. i would have tried to bring it back thematically by having simon grumble about how he could have cast it and carried baz, if he’d had his wand.... or something like ‘give me a year, i can cast that’. or even just having baz think it was ok to tell simon he loved him - but i didn’t think that was giving us anything new i hadn’t already told you. so - it gets cut.

is ‘let’s go back to bed’ a weak final line? i think it sort of is, because it’s just about leaving a room, which was my go-to ending for a long time. but i thought it worked because the whole fic is about sex and being in bed, and it starts with baz being in bed. anyway - once i wrote it, i wrote a few more lines for simon ...... and then deleted them, because ‘let’s go back to bed’ felt like the ending.

#my fic #my deleted scenes #my content

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ryansyn · 5 years ago

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Posting Patreons on Grommr

Ok - so a lot of you are talking about patreon today - and its a bit crazy. So lets drop some reality bombs.

Now before I get bashed for this I wanna just say that I support everyone posting their patreons, I support patreons for gainers, and I am glad that patreon exists because it is the perfect way for gainers to make a little extra cash to fund their gaining. I also do more to fight for the ability for you guys to post your patreons regularly than most people posting them deserve. I believe that it's a step in the right direction away from public media sources like youtube and I'm glad a more secure method exists for sharing these kinds of videos regularly. Do I miss seeing gainer vids on youtube? you bet. Do others? you bet. Does that cause problems for you guys - more than you know. Does that mean that its any less risky to share them there - no and that's one of many reasons I'm ok w/ paying people for creating content.

And now - the reality bomb.

You guys are horrible at Patreon. The average patreon subscriber donates about $12/month to all of the patreons they support. ALL OF THEM. COMBINED. This is worth it because they are able to - via multiple pledges - support multiple patreon pages and get a wide variety of content and a moderate amount of it. This is more than a Netflix subscription - and is worth it because of a couple of factors. 1. The amount/variety of content is worth it to that individual, 2. any difference in the worth between amount/variety of content available and the BENEFIT they gain from supporting a cause THEY support makes up for the loss of content in their personal value system.

You guys are not Netflix - so you can't charge Netflix amounts and expect Netflix subscription rates. That's silly.

Next you need to consider your competition. What makes your patreon better than the others? well if the prices are all the same (for some reason you all do $10 which is frankly idiotic when it comes to setting up a patreon page unless you're doing something of the quality of a professional youtuber and even then its high) then you're asking them to choose which gainers they like most and then it comes down to a popularity contest. Which I personally disagree with, (we shouldn't have to choose a small number of gainers to support if we want to donate) but we do.

Another competitor you all have is the platform you're all advertising on. Many of you seem to think that Grommr is some really big company making loads of money because of all the people on it. Well - it's free. For most people at least. A very small percentage (smaller percentage than you think) subscribe to Grommr for between $5/mo to $8/mo (more if you subscribe via the app because Apple/Google have to take their far too generous cut). If Joe Shmo your average grommr user (who btw does not subscribe to grommr) and he has the choice of 4-8 videos a month from 1 person, or access to unlimited blocks and picture views on Grommr - who do you think Joe is going to pick? Its highly unlikely he's going to pick the videos. Not entirely unlikely - just highly.

And finally the other competitor you have is literally any subscription service charging a similar amount. Why pay $10 a month for a patreon gainer when I can have netflix. Or Hulu + spotify. or all the new streaming services coming out. or Crunchyroll premium. There's a ton of stuff out there that's cheaper than $10 a month - and plenty of free fat porn, plenty of free gainer porn, and tons of gainer erotica out there to masturbate to. Your stuff has to be worth more than that if you're going to charge more than that.

Patreon is great because I can support a lot of people for less than my Netflix subscription. I've helped my friend get his Patreon business off the ground (he's not a gainer, just an artist) and now he makes enough money each month to live off his art. His base tier of $1/creation gives access to the art he posts, and he makes enough to live off. I know what I'm talking about here when I say that most of you should not be making content for $10 a month. If you want to make more off your patreon, if you want people to complain less about your patreon, and you want to keep posting your patreons, then I suggest you re-evaluate how you USE patreon.

Your subscription tiers should be more like $1/$2/$5/$10/$25(or similar levels of scaling) rather than $10/$20/$30* (*this example set of tiers is not indicative of any individual gainer's patreon, but just a trend of gainer patreons I've seen). If you have a base tier that gets minimal access - this should be $1 (minimum amount you can donate on patreon). Otherwise you're just fucking with people. All of my favorite artists that I subscribe to on Patreon have $1/creation or $1/month tiers with plenty of access to content. It has kept me subscribing to them for years even when they don't post in a given month, and most of them are professional artists whose primary source of income is patreon and commission work. At $1/month you can attract far more subscribers than $10/month. Since you guys are simply supplementing your gaining and not trying to replace your jobs - this should be more than enough. The point of patreon is to support A LOT of people (read gainers) not just 1. Make it affordable for people to support multiple gainers, and they will. Limit their choices to 1 and they'll get upset that they can't afford it (and frankly a majority of this site can't afford to donate to your poorly made gainer videos. Some can, most can't - be mindful of this).

And before any of you who have patreons say "well I can support other patreons" I'm just going to glare at you for your stupidity because your patrons are supporting your personal subscriber list not you. That's just a dumb argument. They pay you, you pay others, as long as your subscribING list is smaller than your subscribERS list then you're not paying for it, the people donating to you are.

Be smarter about how you use patreon. Don't break the rules (don't delete your patreon posts out of the newsfeed, make sure you're posting less than 1 a day, make sure you post 4 other things between any promotional posts, don't ask for donations, don't con people, etc.) And go on creating amazing content. Follow my advice and you'll probably get less complaints on a personal level. Or don't its up to you - but be mindful that this is a community site and if there comes a day when everyone is simply making posts to bide time between their patreon advertising, no amount of effort on my part will be able to stop the community from fighting back against that, and the creators of this site do listen to the cries of their community (despite all the complaints to the contrary).

#grommr gainers

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lokilickedme · 6 years ago

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Part 2 of Read By Loki Laufeyson - High Rise

By request

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own in 2016 (no longer available there)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Loki - Fandom, High-Rise (2015), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom

Relationship: Loki/His Book

Character: Loki (narrator), Robert Laing, Richard Wilder

Additional Tags: Explicit Language, Loki Has Issues, Spoilers, Loki Does What He Wants, stick to the damn book Loki, lewd passages quoted from the book, references to bestiality and incest (thanks a lot for that, Ballard. You’re a dick)

Series: Part 2 of Read by Loki Laufeyson

Stats: Published: 2016-02-21 Words: 1220 (original version)

Part One: Loki Reads Chapter 9 of The Night Manager

High Rise, Read by Loki Laufeyson

by lokilickedme

Summary: Loki narrates another audiobook. Apologies to JG Ballard, though not very sincere ones. In fact I take it back, I’m mad that I ever had to read this.

Notes: See the end of the work for notes

Later, as he sat on his balcony eating the dog...

Well shit, lets just not waste any time at all getting to the good stuff, shall we? When a book has the unmitigated balls to start off with a barbequed canine for the first course, you know you're in for an entertaining evening chock full of questionable culinary choices written in dirty grey prose, which we all know is just a gateway to every sort of perversion familiar to man and a handful or two heretofore known only to the Aesir - and I’ll tell you right now they get up to some kinky shit that’d make you want to tie your ballsack to a goat. That’s not a metaphor, they’re known for literally tying their ballsacks to goats. Okay, one of them is known for it. Okay, I’m known for it. It was me. So once one has committed to snacking on the family pets, what comes after the appetizer, sex with a budgie? What sort of sauce is the fellow using? Did he sautee the dog or is that fucker deep fried? Or am I missing a particularly rude innuendo here and he's actually giving the beast a blow job? If that's the case then this might end up being a worthwhile read after all, and I can’t think of a much more romantic place than the balcony if you’re actually going to commit to pleasuring the wife’s poodle.

...Dr. Robert Laing reflected on the unusual events that had taken place within this huge apartment building during the previous three months. Now that everything had returned to normal -

Hold up. NOW everything's returned to normal? You're eating a fucking dog, sir, either that or you're fellating it. In what twisted realm is either of those scenarios considered normal? We’re not counting Asgard, by the way. And I'd rather like to know which part of the beast we're talking about here, I mean if it's the drumstick or the tenderloin then I hope you basted it with some herbs and a bit of olive oil before you slapped it on the hibachi. If you're committing cunnilingus, then I'm presuming you know which part you're dealing with and I'll leave you to it, though the olive oil could serve dual purpose here. But it does beg the question - is the beast male or female? Not making a judgement, just getting the visual.

While we're pondering that, I'm going to do us all a colossal favor and skip ahead a bit. This book really is difficult, and by difficult I mean I've had torture sessions on asteroids that were less annoying. The story itself is good, heaven knows I enjoy chaos and mayhem and bestiality as much as the next power mad despot, but word for word this tale reads a bit like Lewis Carroll and Roald Dahl having the slowest orgasm in history during a mutual masturbation session while smoking Edgar Allen Poe’s gym shorts. I actually think I might be having the slowest orgasm in history.

'Come whenever you want to.' Laing put his arm around her shoulders, steadying her in case she lost her balance. In the past he had always felt physically distanced from Alice by her close resemblance to their mother, but for reasons not entirely sexual this resemblance now aroused him. He wanted to touch her hips, place his hand over her breast. As if aware of this, she leaned passively against him.

And there it is my friends. All good stories need an element of the forbidden, and it looks like sister-diddling wins the perversion jackpot for this evening. This Laing fellow has the whoo hoos for big sis. And you people give me shit over my "alleged" deviant relationship with my brother? Last I recall adopted siblings were free to black hole it all they want, yet here we have a pair working out a tag-up without the benefit of notarized adoption papers. Since we seem to be condoning this, lets all remember our hypocrisy the next time I'm catching grief for banging Thor, shall we? And while we're at it, are we all just ignoring the Oedipus train wreck this man just owned up to driving straight into the wall? 'Big sis you look like mummy, here let me drug you and keep you as a sex slave while this whole place goes to hell around us.' I may or may not be skipping ahead but I'll save you a little time and drudgery - it goes there, people.

He pulled the drawers on to the floor, heaved the mattresses off the beds, and urinated into the bath.

Ah, Wilder. I do love a good silly mustache-twirling villain with self aggrandizing dreams of conquering worlds several floors above his own social status. Because in the end we all want more than what we’ve got, don’t we? Thrones, love, respect, use of the penthouse, a herd of stoned females. At least he didn't piss on the mattress. Nobody likes a bedwetter, even in hell.

His burly figure, trousers open to expose his heavy genitalia, glared at him from the mirrors in the bedroom. He was about to break the glass, but the sight of his penis calmed him, a white club hanging in the darkness.

Yes my good man, welcome to the fellowship of the knob, our universal handshake is to sit on the sofa with one hand down the front of our pants. Our penises calm us all.

He would have liked to dress it in some way, perhaps with a hair-ribbon tied in a floral bow.

Huh. Just when I rather think I like this Wilder fellow and his obvious off kilter mental status, he shows us his wiener. Which was more than enough in itself, thanks so very much for that. Elegant move there, dipshit - whip it out and slap a bow on it, for times when you really want to class things up. I for one can't think of anything more entertaining or intellectually fulfilling on a Friday night than tying a pretty ribbon on my schlong and running about with it hanging out of my trousers while I harass and terrorize feral women in derelict apartment buildings. Sometimes I like to really mix things up by borrowing a pair of mother's clip-on earrings and dangling them from my testicles. It makes me feel so fucking manly. You know, for those times when you really want to bang your sister who looks like your mom and you know you stand a better chance of scoring if you really put in some effort with the self decor. Or you could go all out impressing the masses by tying your ballsack to a goat, but granted, it’s not for everyone.

This ultimate role had helped him on one occasion, when a marauding band of women led by Mrs Wilder had entered the apartment. Seeing Laing being abused, and assuming him to be Eleanor's and Alice's prisoner, they had left. On the other hand, perhaps they understood all too well what was really taking place.

Yes, what was really taking place was this fellow Laing got himself a couple of kinky babes who were willing to tie him to a chair and beat him with the hind leg of an Alsatian. I mean, who doesn't get off on that? I tip my cap to you, Sir. Never go fifty shades with one woman when you can go full-on Marquis de Sade with two. And seeing as this merry band of female visigoths was led by that Wilder chap's wife, one can only assume he pilfered her pretty hair bows one time too many and the poor woman felt compelled to start tucking the ginsu’s into her gingham apron and go on raiding parties with her Wednesday night book club group. Or perhaps it was the 'heavy genitalia' on display out of the front of his pants that drove her over the edge. I understand leaving one's trousers open while traversing rapidly declining self-contained bastions of reverse civilization is valid grounds for divorce in some states.

First she would try to kill him, but failing that give him food and her body, breast-feed him back to a state of childishness and even, perhaps feel affection for him. Then, the moment he was asleep, cut his throat. The synopsis of the ideal marriage.

What - all marriages aren't like that?

I’m going to stop right here so we can all go take a break, order in some Alsation, chase our sisters and next door neighbors around the room with gardening implements and figure out where we hid our morphine stash - which sounds disconcertingly like a typical Saturday evening in Valhalla to me, quite honestly - and summarize the rest of the book, which goes a little something like this: Madness, mayhem, perversion, murder, violence, death, and why the fuck don’t these people just walk out of the damn building? Yes I know, it’s an allegory on class warfare and societal prejudices and the shitty tendency humanity has to turn on each other and finally itself when faced with a breakdown in the decency and polite behavior that tentatively holds people at arm’s length until the shit hits the fan and everyone starts coming at each other with golf clubs. Humans have a disturbing desire to go all Lord of The Flies the moment order breaks down, and this book casts a bloodshot eye on the fucked up results. I’m telling you though, it’s nothing a good tug’o war match with a goat couldn’t have fixed.

All in all I would say this book is a challenging read, but worth it in the end if for nothing other than the visual of that guy with the bow on his schnitzel. Best read while mainlining household cleaners directly into your lungs blindfolded and waterboarding yourself while listening to Raul Julia sing the Ave Maria on 45 rpms. Trust me, you'll understand once you get to the part where the old ladies in cocktail gowns are brawling over use of the elevator.

End Notes

#Loki Reads #Part 2 #High Rise

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helshades · 5 years ago

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Hard to deny that we live in an age dominated by the superhero. That classic Superman chestnut, “Look up in the sky!“, feels as apropos as ever when you can’t drive down a major road without Tony Stark’s mustachioed mug or Clark Kent’s Kryptonian biceps flexing down at you like judgemental gods. They rule the box office, they rule the pop culture conversation, they rule the graphic t-shirt real estate at every coffee shop. We’re about one particularly effective after-credits scene away from fandom spilling over into actual worship—pull up any video from inside Hall H if you don’t believe me—which means there’s no better time to ring up The Boys.

Adapted by Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg, and Eric Kripke from the Dynamite comic series by writer Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson, the eight-episode Amazon series has a wickedly sharp eye for what an actual modern age of superheroes would look like. Costumed vigilantes come with an army of publicists to craft public apologies. Major media corporations schedule the crime-stopping “team-ups” that would drive the optimal amount of social media engagement. And there’s the possibility that the superheroes themselves, so shiny and glossed in front of a camera, are the type of A-list TMZ trash-monsters in their private lives who might smash a man’s skull during a particularly aggressive round of analingus. This is an actual thing that happens in The Boys. A lot of wild things happen in The Boys. But underneath all that superpowered ass-murder is genuinely one of the most timely TV series I’ve seen in a long time.

Our way into the mayhem is “Wee” Hughie Campbell (Jack Quaid), a completely normal A/V salesman living a completely ordinary life until a super-fast superhero named A-Train (Jessie Usher) literally runs through his girlfriend Robin (Jess Salgueiro), turning her into a cloud of blood and guts. A-Train is essentially untouchable as a member of The Seven, the world’s premiere superhero team, along with aquatic fish-talker The Deep (Chace Crawford), silent ninja Black Noir (Nathan Mitchell), the invisible Translucent (Alex Hassell), superstrong ass-kicker Queen Maeve (Dominique McElligott), and the squad’s Superman-esque leader, Homelander (Antony Starr). Quieted with a half-assed apology and ironclad Non-disclosure Agreement, Hughie’s thirst for revenge leads him straight to Billy Butcher (Karl Urban), former leader of an under-the-radar squad that worked to keep the “supes” in check: The Boys.

Running parallel to Hughie and Butcher is the story of Starlight (Erin Moriarty), The Seven’s bright-eyed and optimistic new recruit who quickly learns she’s joined a team of corrupt corporate suits, perverts, and murderers. The two plots intertwine, and soon a grand conspiracy emerges surrounding the mysterious super-steroid “Compound V” that could completely destroy the superhero game and the mega-corporation that funds it, Vought.

The Boys operates on a few different levels, all of which the creative team nails on one level or another. It’s your classic gettin’-the-band-back-together story, as the Compound V conspiracy convinces Butcher to track down the rest of the retired Boys, Mother’s Milk (Laz Alonso) and Frenchie (Tomer Capon), who are eventually joined by the hyper-violent killing machine known only as The Female (Karen Fukuhara). It’s also a pretty dang intriguing mystery tale dressed up in tights and capes, as well as a pitch-black comedy filled with enough flying guts, exploding dolphins, and C-4 shoved into a person’s unholy crevices to keep even the sickest of you puppies squirming.

But where the writing staff really excels is in the world-building. They’ve kept large chunks of the comic book story intact while also stripping away a bit of the X-Treme Edginess—I like Garth Ennis a lot, but Garth Ennis is occasionally too Garth Ennis for his own good—and setting it firmly in a setting that’s both comic-book elevated and so perfectly 2019. Superheroes argue not about the number of lives saved, but their cut of the merch and box office sales raked in from the Vought Cinematic Universe. ESPN runs 24/7 coverage of a race between speedsters. SEO experts and video editors cut together image-boosting clip shows of The Seven interacting with the common folk. (Possibly my favorite joke in the entire show is the fact newcomer Starlight’s segment is placeholder text that just says “Starlight relating to people.”)

And with that comes a really dark, unique relatability to the material that’s completely different than any on-screen comic book series out there. Though we don’t live in a world of actual superpowers, we do live in one filled with supremely shitty people in extraordinary positions of power and wealth. Tune into literally any news outlet of your choice—or just log on to Twitter dot com—and you’re bombarded with the latest government figure or Hollywood elite who was caught and/or just outright said the depths of their sheer shittiness. It makes you long for the days when a celebrity’s name trending meant they were just dead, not a sexual deviant. The Boys, similar to the comic series, leans hard into this idea: What if the rich, powerful fraudsters and public masturbators of the world were actually sitting in the position of the gods? It’s the darkest material on the show, but the story approaches it unflinchingly. There’s a real stomach-churning familiarity to a high-ranking member of The Seven dropping his pants in front of Starlight and asking how badly she wants to be a part of a superhero team. But even the worst parts come with a sense of wish fulfillment; as awful as it is to see and recognize a world run by all-powerful assholes, it’s thrilling when you realize The Boys is really about how ordinary people can fight back.

As Starlight, Moriarty shines brighter and brighter with each episode, a fantastic foil to Quaid’s increasingly twitchy Hughie. The cast is pretty electric across the board—especially Karl Urban out there throwing around c-words like his name is Cookie Monster—but there are two performances in particular that really make the story tick. Antony Starr is terrifying as Homelander; he plays the main supe like a petulant child given the strength of a nuclear bomb—a Shazam who also burns people’s faces off—and it’s chilling how quickly the actor switches between Homelander’s toothy-smiled choir boy image and the stone-cold persona below. Standing behind him is Elisabeth Shue as Madelyn Stillwell, Senior Vice President of Superhero Management at Vought. The Oscar-nominee is perfectly icy in the role, and low-key the most terrifying character on the show. As the mass murders and war crimes pile up around her, Madelyn is just booking the dates and scheduling the meetings, proving there’s nothing more horrific than a suit who signs lives away with a smile.

If there’s a complaint to be had about The Boys, it’s that its first eight-episode run ends awkwardly, right in the middle of the narrative with several loose threads dangling and a few key characters left forgotten in the home stretch. You have the sense the creators were pretty confident given the fact casting announcements started to pop up before a season 2 was confirmed. [UPDATE: Which it was, just now, at Comic-Con.] But the roller-coaster ride to that abrupt end is something you must experience. Like Alan Moore‘s Watchmen in the late-80s, TV series has the chance to be the superhero deconstruction of our time. Less a peek behind the curtain, and more a seedy glimpse behind the social media likes and box office numbers, a story that manages to be heartbreakingly relevant while still finding time to have Karl Urban kill a room full of goons with a super-powered baby.

Oh shit, did I not mention Karl Urban kills a room full of goons with a superpowered baby earlier? Yeah, man. Watch The Boys. A lot going on there.

#the boys #t.v. show #a resplendent gem of a series

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