#she’s falling apart and every sub sent down there makes her worse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Just Peachy - George Weasley

Title: Just Peachy Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Pegging, male receiving oral, male fingering, slight fem!dom/sub!george, teasing, degradation. Seriously George takes it up the ass if you don’t like it don’t read it k thanks Summary: with the world wide web at his fingertips it’s only natural that George finds something new to try in the bedroom A/N: for the anon who wanted George getting pegged. Like I said in the warnings, George takes it up the ass so if that makes you uncomfy or you don’t like it don’t read! I’m also not tagging anyone as I don’t want to make anyone uncomfy or upset! Feedback is always welcome!

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Giving George a laptop and access to the internet turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. A curse because he quickly became obsessed with browsing the internet, and he spent most of his time scrolling away on reddit or with his headphones on, watching some random YouTube video. He could chatter on for hours about a thread he found on reddit or a meme he discovered when browsing on Instagram and once he discovered how to order things off of amazon it got even worse. At least once a day a package containing some random gismo or trinket arrived at the doorstep of their shared flat, and George would excitedly rip open the box and use whatever was inside for a few minutes before jumping back on his computer to order more useless crap.

But his newfound love of the internet was also a blessing. George had figured out how to connect his laptop to the tv in his and Y/N’s bedroom, and every night before falling asleep they would cuddle together in bed, watching some tv program or film on Netflix. Along with George’s obsession with shopping for useless gadgets, he’d started to pick things up for Y/N as well. It was never anything big, a box of her favorite chocolates, a candle he thought she’d enjoy the smell off, a new pair of fuzzy socks for her to wear around the flat in the winter. Just anything he saw that made him think of her.

George’s new love of the internet also did wonders for their sex life, something Y/N welcomed happily.

Along with the random cute presents George started ordering for Y/N, he also started ordering some sexy ones as well. Her wardrobe is now dripping in different sets of lingerie and her underwear drawer is filled to the brim with lace clad panties. Their sex toy collection has nearly doubled in size, with toys for them to use together or on their own being added to the mix. And thanks to George’s Pornhub premium subscription, they’ve tested out some new positions and kinks in the bedroom as well. Some were only a one time thing, others have become a permanent part of their intimate moments, but everything has been pleasurable, nonetheless. It’s made their relationship stronger and helped George ask for things he never thought he’d want, even those that may be a tad unconventional.

George clears his throat as he tugs Y/N closer to his side, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He can tell she’s close to drifting off to sleep by the way her chest is moving with slow deep breaths and he knows he’ll never get the chance to ask the question that’s been burning on the tip of his tongue for weeks if he doesn’t do it now. “You ever heard of pegging?” he asks into the quiet of their bedroom.

“Like clothes pegs? The things you use to hang your washing up with?” Y/N mumbles sleepily into his chest.

George chuckles and he can feel some of his nerves easing away. “No, it’s like a sex thing.”

“Like putting clothes pegs on your nipples? Sounds kinda hot,” Y/N teases, turning so she can look up at George. “Though I imagine the splinters would be a nightmare to get out.”

“Not quite,” George responds, biting his lip. “It’s, um. This thing where. The girl wears this thing, a strapon, and um. Uses it to. Ya know, fuck the guy.” George’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he looks up at the ceiling to avoid Y/N’s gaze.

“Oh,” she responds quietly, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. She rubs the flushed skin with her thumb soothingly, waiting for him to relax into her touch before she continues. “Is that something you’re interested in? Something you want me to do to you?”

“I. Um. Uh. Yes, I think so. Only if you want to,” George babbles nervously, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Y/N grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers before bringing it down so she can press a few kisses to the back of his hand. “Georgie, look at me.” When George finally looks back down at her Y/N smiles softly and squeezes his hand. “You never have to be embarrassed about this kinda stuff with me George. If you wanna try it, we’ll try it. Simple as that.”

George leans down to kiss Y/N briefly. “Just didn’t want you to think I was weird or something.”

“Of course I think you’re weird,” Y/N teases, kissing him again. “But there’s loads of other reasons for that, and none of them have to do with your sexual preferences. There’s no shame here, love. I’ll do some research and then we’ll get down into it, yeah?”

“You’re the best, you know that?” George compliments, settling back into the pillows.

Y/N hums as her eyes flutter closed, letting the sound of George’s heartbeat lull her to sleep. “Damn right.”

Over the next few days Y/N spends every ounce of free time she has browsing different forums and websites, trying to find out all she can to make sure the experience is as pleasurable for the both of them as possible. She watches far more porn than she ever thought she would, spends hours searching on various sex toy websites to find the perfect strapon and she does more research on lube than any person should ever do in their lives.

Y/N keeps everything a secret from George until the day they’d decided would be best to try for the first time. They choose a Friday, that way George will have time to recover from any soreness before he’s expected to be back at work and if they both find it enjoyable, possibly do it again.

While George is at work Y/N decides to grab the strapon from where she’d been hiding it in the back of the closet, so she can clean it off one last time and figure out how to properly strap it to her body, so she doesn’t have to fumble with it later. The harness she’d chosen has a part that settles into her slit, with ridges and bumps that’ll drag across her clit with every thrust. A shiver runs down her spine as the cool leather wraps around her skin and she tightens the straps, adjusting them so they fit tight on her hips and thighs.

“This is kinda hot,” Y/N mumbles as she stares down at the dildo resting at attention in between her thighs. It’s flesh colored and slightly curved, and it’s about 7 inches long and moderately thick. She wraps her hand around it, slowly moving her wrist as if she’s jacking off. “Fucking hell,” she groans as the ridges on the strap brush her clit, her hips jerking forward. Y/N wraps her hand around the base and grabs her phone off of the bathroom counter, snapping a picture to send to George.

Can’t wait to have you begging for my cock xx

George takes his phone out when he feels it vibrate in his pocket, figuring its Y/N sending him a sweet message. Ever since she taught him how to text a few months ago she’s started sending him little things throughout the day while they’re apart. Usually it’s a text to let him know she’s thinking about him or sometimes it’s a meme or a video she found that she figures he’d enjoy too.

So, when he opens his phone and is met with a picture of her hand wrapped around the dildo Y/N plans on fucking him with later his cheeks immediately turn bright red as he nearly drops his phone on the ground. His cock twitches in his trousers and he has to grip the counter in front of him and take a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. That image is going to be imbedded in his brain for the rest of the day, and he has no idea how he’s supposed to make it through the next few hours knowing what’s waiting for him at home.

“You alright?” Fred asks as he comes out of the back, taking in George’s flushed appearance.

George hums and nods, locking his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “Yep. Just peachy.”

Fred gives him a look but doesn’t say anything more, and George sighs in relief, deciding to go help some customers to keep his mind off of Y/N.

“God damn,” George pants as Y/N grinds down in his lap, his grip on her hips tightening and his head tilting back to give her more room to bite at his neck.

After dinner and some more talking about what the rest of their evening will look like, Y/N lead George to the bedroom to get started. They had stood in the middle of their bedroom for what felt like hours, just kissing softly as they gently undressed each other. Once they were both down to nothing, but their underwear George settled in the middle of their bed with his back against the headboard, while Y/N straddled his waist and started to grind down against him. Now a few minutes later, George is fully hard in his boxers while Y/N continues to grind on him, her lips attacking his neck and one of her hands tugging at his hair while the other pinches and rolls his nipples.

“Feel good?” Y/N teases, twisting the nipple in her hand. George lets out a loud moan and Y/N can feel George’s cock twitch against her. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she continues, kissing her way back up to George’s mouth. Y/N tugs on his hair as they kiss, just letting their mouths move together for a few moments. “Are you ready for more?”

“Yes, please,” George confirms with a nod. He can feel some nerves rumbling in his stomach still, but Y/N’s soothing voice and gentle hands have put him at ease. He hasn’t stopped thinking about this moment since he suggested pegging over a week ago, and the picture Y/N sent him has only made him more excited. “Want you to fuck me, Y/N.”

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine at George’s words, and she kisses him briefly. “Patience, love. We gotta get you ready first. I’m gonna go get dressed. Want you to take your boxers off and lay back on the middle of the bed, yeah?” Y/N kisses George once more as he nods, before getting off the bed and heading into the bathroom attached to their room.

The strapon and lube are already waiting on the bathroom counter, and Y/N takes a deep breath as she shimmies out of her panties and grabs the strapon. She decides to keep her lacy black bralette on, as it’s one of George’s favorites and Y/N knows seeing her in it drives him wild. Y/N secures the strapon like she did this afternoon, groaning as the nubs rub against her clit. She’s already fairly turned on just from the grinding and she can’t imagine it’ll take much for her to cum once she’s fucking into George. She looks at herself one last time in the mirror before grabbing the bottle of lube and heading back into their bedroom. George is completely naked now, laying back on the bed with his head propped up by their pillows so he can watch Y/N’s every move.

“God you’re gorgeous,” George groans as Y/N comes back into the room, his eyes raking over her body. The leather straps wrapped around her skin make her thighs look even more divine, and his mouth waters as he takes notice of the dildo jutting out from between her thighs. “This is way hotter than I thought it would be.”

Y/N giggles as she settles on the bed between George’s legs, tossing the lube onto the bed next to him. “Yeah? You like my cock?” she teases as she hovers over George, attaching her lips to the base of his throat. She thrusts her hips against George slowly, letting the dildo drag against his cock.

George gasps as the dildo drags across his warm skin, a shiver running down his spine. “Shit that’s cold.”

“Sorry, baby,” Y/N apologizes as her lips start to trail down his chest towards his nipples. She lets her hot breath just barely breeze across one before she flicks at it with her tongue. George lets out a low moan, prompting her to give his other nipple the same treatment.

“It’s okay. Felt good,” George stutters out as Y/N takes one of his nipples into her mouth. He can feel the precum collecting on the tip of his cock dripping onto his stomach, and he thrusts his hips up, desperate for some friction.

“Gotta be patient, baby,” Y/N coos as she starts to kiss further down George’s body. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.” Y/N presses a kiss to the tip of George’s cock, pulling away when he groans and thrusts his hips up into her touch. “Don’t be naughty, George,” Y/N warns as she grabs the lube.

George licks his lips as he watches Y/N spread the lube on her fingers, his legs automatically opening a bit wider. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Better be,” Y/N responds as she tosses the lube aside again. She grabs the base of George’s cock with her clean hand, leaning down and sucking the tip between her lips as one of her fingers circles his entrance. She takes him down fully as she sinks the first finger into him, the noise he lets out going straight to her core.

“Oh,” George gasps as Y/N starts to bob her head on his cock, his brain focused on the way her finger feels as it moves inside of him. “Feels good,” George moans, grinding his hips down against her hand. “Feels different, but good.”

Y/N hums around George as she continues to suck his cock, the hand on the base of him twisting as she adds another finger alongside the first. She’d read many guides on the best way to prepare someone, and she moves slowly, wanting George to feel as good as possible.

Y/N works at opening up George for a few minutes, getting up to three fingers into him while her tongue teases the tip of his cock. His hips are rocking down against her hand feverishly, and little mewls are leaving his lips as his chest heaves with deep breathes.

“Fuck me please,” George begs as Y/N crooks her fingers inside of him, his hands fisting in the bed sheets. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s ready to move on to the next step.

Y/N pulls off of George’s cock and looks up at him, groaning at how beautiful he looks. His chest his flushed red and his hair is messy from his hands running through it. “Yeah, baby? You ready for me to ruin you with my cock?”

George chokes on a moan as Y/N pulls her fingers out of him, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly empty. “God yes, please. Need to feel you inside of me. Wanna be full of your cock, Y/N.”

“Such a desperate little cock slut and I haven’t even fucked you yet, baby,” Y/N teases as she lubes up the dildo. She lets out a quiet moan as she strokes it, the little nubs and ridges on the harness giving her some much needed relief on her aching pussy. “You remember the safe word, right baby?”

George nods, a whimper falling from his lips as Y/N presses the tip of the dildo against his entrance. “I remember, yes,” he confirms, taking in a few shaky breaths.

Y/N grabs one of George’s knees, pushing his leg to the side to give her more room. “You ready, baby? Ready for me to fuck you with my cock? Turn you into a little cock whore?”

“Please,” George begs. He’s rock hard against his stomach and he’s desperate for Y/N to finally sink into him. “Oh my fuck,” George moans as Y/N’s hips push forward slowly, not stopping until the dildo is in him completely and the leather straps are digging into the backs of his thighs.

Y/N rubs George’s hips soothingly, watching his face contort into some mixture of pleasure and pain. “You doing okay, Georgie? Talk to me baby.”

George slowly pushes his hips down against Y/N, a moan falling from his mouth at the sensation. It burns slightly, but in an amazing way, and George feels full in a way he never has before. “Feels so fucking good,” he whines, pushing his hips down against Y/N’s in a steady pace. “Need you to move, Y/N fuck. Please. So full of you, so full of your cock.”

“Fucks sake,” Y/N moans as she starts to move her hips, slowly pulling out of George before she fucks back into him. The noise George lets out as she starts to fuck him goes right to her core, and the feeling of the nubs rubbing against her clit prompts her to slam back into George harder. “You like the way I fuck you, Georgie? Like how my big cock stretches you out?”

“Merlin, yes,” George moans as Y/N starts to move faster one of his hands coming down to stroke his cock in time with her thrusts. “Love the way you fuck me, Y/N. Feels better than I ever thought it would.” George wraps one of his hands around his thigh, pulling his legs up to his chest. The new angle allows for Y/N to fuck into him deeper, and he lets out a long whine as the tip of the dildo finally brushes his sweet spot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there Y/N please,” he begs, as he tips his head back against the pillows.

“Such a fucking slut, baby,” Y/N teases as she starts to fuck into George harder. The bumps and ridges on the harness brush against her clit roughly, and she can feel her wetness dripping down onto her thighs. George looks absolutely ethereal, and it does nothing but push her closer to her own orgasm. His chest is red and covered in a sheen of sweat and the noises falling from his mouth are going right to her core.

George groans as the tip of the dildo brushes his sweet spot with every one of Y/N’s thrusts, and he releases his cock so he can grab his other thigh and bring his leg up to his chest, allowing Y/N to somehow fuck into him even deeper. “Only for you, Y/N. Love being your cock slut.”

“That’s right, baby. My little slut.” Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, and she wraps her hand around George’s cock, stroking him in time with her thrusts, her thumb rubbing over the tip and spreading his precum down the shaft to make her hand slide easier. “Fuck, George. ‘M gonna cum. Come on, baby. Be a good little cock slut and cum on my cock.”

Y/N’s hand on his cock pushes George over the edge, and he can feel his walls clench around the dildo as he cums, pleasure rolling through his body. Her name leaves his mouth in a loud shout as he shoots his seed all over Y/N’s hand and his own stomach.

“Fuck, George,” Y/N moans as her own orgasm washes over her, the rhythm of her hips stuttering as the pleasure rockets through her body. She releases George’s cock as soon as it stops twitching, letting her hips slow to a gentle roll before pulling out of George completely.

George releases his legs and lets them fall back against the bed, inhaling slowly as he tries to catch his breath. “Fucking Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

Y/N giggles as she crawls up George’s body, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Glad you liked it, because it was so fucking hot, George. Like so unbelievably hot.” She kisses George again, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll be right back, yeah? Gonna grab something to clean you up.”

Y/N comes back from the bathroom a few minutes later back in the panties she’d taken off earlier, with a washcloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She hands George the water with a smile as she settles between his thighs.

“Thanks, love,” George murmurs before taking a sip, nearly chocking as Y/N runs the warm washcloth along his bum. “Could have given a guy some warning,” he teases through his coughing fit.

“Sorry, love,” Y/N giggles as she wipes up his stomach. Once George is clean Y/N tosses the washcloth on the floor for them to deal with later, before crawling back up the bed. “So, feel good?”

George places the empty glass on his bedside table before pulling Y/N into a deep kiss. “My arse is a little sore but other than that yes, incredible.”

“I’ve got some salve you can use tomorrow if you want. Figured it might come in handy.” Y/N pulls back the covers so she and George can get into bed, letting him pull her onto his chest. “I love you, George.”

George chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I love you too, Y/N. Thank you for not thinking I’m a weirdo.”

“I told you,” Y/N muses with a laugh as George grabs his wand, giving it a flick so the lights in their room turn off. “I absolutely think you’re a weirdo, a weirdo who looks super fucking hot cumming on my cock.”

#George weasley #George Weasley smut #gw #golden

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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Wash Out.21 (Sope Special)

[Master List]

Banners: @purpleskies1999 Pairings: Dolphintrainer!Taehyung x SharkDiver!Jin, Mer!Jimin x Reader, Scientist!Namjoon x MerKing!Jungkook, Mer!Yoongi x Mer!Hoseok. Rating: 16+ Genre: Mystery, Romance, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, little bit of Action, Slice of life, Enemies2Lovers, Friends2lovers, Social media au, Fake Texts, Fake Subs.

Summary: Taehyung and his best friend Y/N are Dolphin trainers at Wash Out; Marine Wildlife and Theme Park. When the nerdy marine biologist and resident veterinarian Doctor Kim Namjoon goes missing; the two friends form a ragtag team with Taehyung’s rival Seokjin and a…. Fish?

[Prev] [Next]

Yoongi stood still, his legs shaking. It was not normal for him to be standing for this length of time. They were mermaids used to having tails their strength in the water. Swimming was like breathing. Of course their legs only appeared on their sacred land under the ocean.

They couldn’t walk on human land, could never compare to their leg strength. Most Mermaids spent their days in the water only entering the sacred land for celebrations. Yoongi being one of many guards would protect the royal family, albeit there was no longer a royal family. Jungkook was all that was left, a prince forced to be a king before he was ready.

Guards were the most common of the merfolk to adorn legs. Jungkook was confined to the sacred land, his time in the water limited. Anything to keep him safe from the threat of other merclans. Each guard embellished in the silk of the clams. Byssus was woven finely like silk, the light material was surprisingly warm enough to protect the guards and King whilst in their more vulnerable form.

Yoongi looked across the crystal throne room, the love of his life standing just as tall, his stature stronger than Yoongi’s. A feat as Jungkook tore the room apart, bioluminescent vines and lanterns ripped from the walls. Food and wine splattered on the floor of their ancestors.

Hoseok’s mouth turned down, the sight unnatural for his usually cheerful disposition. The hardest part of their job was raising Jungkook, it seemed no matter how hard they tried to teach him right and wrong, politics and history they still came up short. He didn’t have a family, not anymore, he didn’t know how to share and never had to work for relationships.

Everyone adored him, feared him, doted on his every whim. He was given the finest foods and all the newest technology Merfolk could offer. Anything to keep him content in his prison. It surprised Yoongi that Jungkook hadn’t questioned his confines, that he was complacent with their level of control over his freedom.

Jungkook no longer understanding, why his new found friend was so reluctant to stay. He extended all his riches and gifts to the human, something other merfolk would cherish.

“Why does he still want to leave, with me he could be treated as a king,” Jungkook seethed, throwing a leg over the arm of his throne massaging his temples. “Leave me.”

Hoseok marched dutifully to Yoongi, supporting the older merman as they made their exit. Walking him to the entrance of the underwater cove, the air though damp enough to keep their lungs from feeling dry, they much preferred sinking into the cool water. Doing so allowed the power of the sacred land to slip away leaving only their natural form.

The two transformed their black and blue tails wrapping around each other, a romantic gesture Yoongi enjoyed more than he wished to admit. They relaxed in eachothers arms peacefully, sinking further until they landed on the floor of the large network of caves. This is where most of the merfolk lived as they were still protected from the open ocean.

Under the cove was wide and besides a few stalagmite and stalactite the surface was predominantly flat. However the local life was anything but, everyone bustling around the settlement enjoying tending to the seaweed, crafting and protecting the sealife.

“Jungkook, is struggling. He doesn’t understand how to handle rejection. He doesn’t understand that people value the same things,” Hoseok mumbled, massaging Yoongi’s lower back to help relieve tension from standing for such a long time.

“That human cannot survive long under the ocean, he grows weaker by the day, barely eating.” Yoongi huffed, “If Jungkook doesn’t let him go, the poor thing will die, Jungkook isn’t ready to experience something like that so close to him.”

“I think he has gotten too attached, losing this human might break him,” Hoseok bit his lip, “Dare I say he is in love with him, he could be his promised.”

Yoongi scoffed, the idea that Jungkook happened to find his promised one and he was a human, the first human he had ever met. Yoongi and Hoseok were unaware they were each other's promised until Yoongi had a week off from guard duty and started to get really sick. The two had met in the infirmary wasting away and only in one another's company did their condition improve. “Hoseok, that’s a bit much.”

A figure swam down the path quickly, heading straight to the sacred cove entrance, carrying something large. Was someone trying to attack their home? The two fell apart taking up offensive stances, each lurching forward when they spotted Jimin holding an unconscious human.

“Not another one,” Yoongi chastised, eyes sweeping over Jimin trying to be inconspicuous. Though he cared he showed it silently, not fond of open praise. The kind to listen and assist others out of sight.

“I have to make sure he is alright,” Jimin gave no further explanation, swimming up into the cove entrance dragging the human onto the sacred land. Jimin’s gold tail disappearing, leaving behind two bare legs.

Wrapping himself in a cloth, the two followed. Yoongi strained to lift himself into an upright position. Hoseok brought out their usual transport, especially for Jungkook’s deliveries. In this case they threw the unconscious human across the shell of the crustacean and they headed to their king.

“Are all humans this big?” Yoongi asked, eyeing the figure draped beside Jimin. The two crab-pooling wasn’t the issue, the way Jimin looked genuinely concerned for the human was. It was no good for humans and Merfolk to fall in love, the dynamic wouldn’t end well.

“No, they aren’t all this big, some of them are small, delicate and beautiful. They are magnificent, fascinating beings. Some are scary and mean and others are innocent and protective, just trying to do the right thing.” Jimin whispered, checking the humans breathing once more.

“Is he your promised?” Hoseok asked softly, not knowing how to approach the topic sensitively. Jimin smiled, shaking his head. The thought appeared to have amused him.

“He is someone else’s promised,” Jimin said, “But I think I met her, she was beautiful and strong, never letting anyone stop her, never letting bad things keep her down. She would swim head first into enemy waters to save someone she barely knows.

The human groaned, “Where am I?” Jimin let out a sigh of relief, this human was waking up and didn’t seem to be physically hurt, at least there were no wounds they could see upon his flesh. “Am I dead?”

“No, you are not dead, you are in our settlement.” Jimin grinned at the disorientation present in Seokjin’s words. He was struggling to enunciate his words, each more like a whine drawn out.

Upon entering the crystal throne room the group tried their best to support the sluggish human inside. Gaining the attention of Jungkook, ceasing his brooding long enough to assist the three struggling mermen. As if hearing the commotion or perhaps Seokjin’s terrible jokes Namjoon emerged from where he had been staying.

“Jin! Are you okay?” Namjoon grabbed his friend, checking him over for injury, “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you and avoiding the police, I ran my car off the cliff and also may have destroyed the letter box outside your beach house.” He laughed, “Never really liked it anyway.”

“You did what?” Namjoon said, concerned, “Are you crazy?”

“Listen, we were being chased. It was all for you, and Jimin of course, returning Jimin and rescuing you.” Seokjin smiled at his friend. Yoongi thought these humans were weird, they were reckless and too odd for his liking. “I even teamed up with Taehyung and Y/n in order to save you. Do you know how hard that was?”

“Didn’t seem hard at all, you and Taehyung seemed to get along really well.” Jimin pushed the human with a smile, it was weird to see Jimin acting so comfortable with the humans. “We will return you so that the issue can be resolved, I am starting to grow worried about how we left.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asked confused

“Humans tackled Y/n and Taehyung dragged me into the water. Right before you and your car contraption fell into the water I killed the man who scared you all.” Jimin said proudly, this didn’t seem to go over well with the human’s. Yoongi hoped Jimin didn’t do something stupid turf war wasn’t on his to do list.

Yoongi didn’t understand the words coming from Seokjin’s face, if he had to liken it to anything, it sounded like vulgar slang, curse words. The human looked panicked.

“We have to go back, they are probably being sent to prison,” Seokjin said, trying to leave unsure which direction to go, “They are in big trouble.”

“Can’t you just talk to your king and explain and they will be removed from prison?” Jimin said

“Prison doesn’t work the same as it does here,” Namjoon explained, “Very Very bad people go to prison, Murderer’s, thieves and other despicable humans put in one place.”

“Yeah and if they go to prison, they may be beaten or worse,” Seokjin huffed. Jimin looked up at Jungkook who nodded, bringing out a small mirror and handing it to Jimin.

Looking over Jimin’s shoulder, Yoongi noticed a human different to the two infront of him, she was feminine delicate and leaking. “What is happening to her?”

“She is crying,” Jimin explained, “Humans do that when they are hurt or in despair, from what I have been told they do the same when they are happy too.”

“Confusing and a little stupid.” Hoseok laughed, “How do you know the difference?”

The charges have been dropped, Namjoon breathed listening to the interrogator, explaining that they couldn’t record the phenomenon that occurred on the beach. “They are being let go,” He smiled, a sight Yoongi hadn’t seen since he first laid eyes on their large domestic crustaceans.

“There is Taehyung,” Seokjin called out looking down, the two humans looked void of any emotion, they collected their things and climbed into the police car getting an escort to their homes. “They are safe and that’s all that matters.”

Seokjin smiled, his eyes leaking much to Yoongi’s disgust. Namjoon smiled, he seemed a little amused by the older human. “I remember distinctly you saying you hated Taehyung with a passion and wanted him to choke on a sardine.” They two laughed for a moment, “When did things change?”

“I guess when you are working as a team to save someone you develop an understanding.” Seokjin shrugged his large shoulders, “It also didn’t help that he was living in my house for almost a week.”

“You like him,” Namjoon poked him, “Admit it you have feelings for him.”

“We can head back when you are ready, we have returned Jimin home safely.” Seokjin smiled, looking around at the group and smiling, “I am Seokjin by the way, you can call me Jin.”

The man was goofy, reminding Yoongi of Jungkook himself, the two so alike in their childlike nature, letting themself play without hesitation. It was almost admirable that people could act so carefree, unaffected by how they could be perceived.

“I don’t know if I am allowed to leave?” Namjoon said, his smile falling, eyes fixed on the ground before him.

Yoongi looked at his king, the spoiled young man reflecting on his actions, it had been many days since they saw the young man smile. Almost expecting him to refuse, Yoongi schools his expression when he doesn’t.

“You should go, You don’t belong down here?” Jungkook took the mirror before walking away from the group to sit on the throne. He lowered his head looking at his reflection trying to distract himself from the pain. Letting your promised go was the hardest thing a merperson could do. Under normal circumstances, promises are only parted by death.

Namjoon walked over, placing a hand on the king's head and smiling at him, “If ever you want to visit, I would be happy to show you some great places, places you would love.” Jungkook’s broken heart warmed at the human’s dimples appearing softly in the flesh of his cheeks.

That was the last thing they needed, their king running off for a romance on the coast line. Seokjin swung his arm around Jimin playfully, the merman giggling whilst his legs almost buckled. “Yeah Jimin knows the private beach by Namjoon’s house, he can show you the way if you ever want to visit.”

Tags: @backinblack1967 @miriamxsworld @moccahobi @simplymemyself @a-gayish-unicorn @ella-mella @vjinfan23

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years ago

Text

summary: you became fuck buddies with Rafael after your friend Rita played matchmaker. As a FBI agent, you’re helping SVU during the manhunt of Yates and Rudnick.

words: 3,141

warnings: smut, pegging, sub/dom, sexting, alcohol

i’m very insecure about writing smut... let me know if i’m doing to good job or if i should stop... also, sorry for the typos..

High hopes

Rafael Barba wished he had stayed in bed today. The day kept getting worse and worse. He was stuck in Rikers Island for hours, only to find out that Yates and Rudnick escaped. He growled and wished he could go back to last night, in bed with you.

You met Rafael through Rita Calhoun, or so to speak. You waited in front of the courthouse one day, to go to lunch with your friend, and she was walking down with a handsome dark-haired man. She gave you a quick sign, telling you to wait a minute, but you walked up to them instead. “What don’t you understand in this sign?” she asked, raising her forefinger, just like she did a minute ago.

“I understand this one better,” you showed your middle finger, with a big grin. You heard her friend laughing on your left.

“Very elegant, Y/N.” she answered. “Barba, we’ll go back to that later. Giving you time to come to your senses,”

“To put your hopes too high, Rita,”

“You must be ADA Barba,” you interrupted them and offered your hand to him.

“And you are?” he asked, taking his time to shake your hand.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, FBI. Rita’s cutest friend,”

“Cute, indeed,” Barba agreed, even if he would say beautiful, sexy and powerful.

“Dear god, I’m gonna throw up,” Rita spoke up. “You know what, Y/N, I’ll give you his number and you’ll contact him so I don’t have to watch this,”

And Rita did give you his number. You tentatively texted him a few days after, to which he openly responded. In a few days, you and Rafael had your first physical encounter. Rules are simple; just sex, no feelings. Rafael was fine with it, casual relationships have been his thing for many years but it always ends because the other caught feelings. Never him. On your side, you just never fell really in love. You had boyfriends, you had feelings, but never enough to make it work. You know this comes from your sad childhood but you never wanted to give a try to some therapy bullshit. You were fine with it.

Sex with Rafael was amazing. Actually, ‘amazing’ is a small word to what it actually was. The best you ever had. But no chance in hell, you let him know that. His ego’s already big enough, he doesn’t need to feel more cocky in bed. It was so good though, it became more and more regular. You couldn’t get enough of each other. And as you started to trust more one another, you began to try new things. Try, discover.

You and Rafael were so damn compatible sexually speaking. And you both managed to keep feelings out of it. Or so you thought.

That day became such a mess, FBI got brought in. When Rafael saw you walking into the precinct, he felt his body reacting immediately. “Not the time to get aroused, Rafael,” he warned himself. But how could he not? You had that powerful strut, like you owned the room. Rafael had never been into badass women before, he likes that in men. But you were a badass and god how it turns him on. He thought about the few times you got dominant on him. He needs more of that. He needs more of you.

He watched you introducing yourself to Olivia, and then to the rest of the squad. When you finally noticed him, you just gave him a nod before walking over to him. “Field Agent Y/L/N, me and my team are here to find your two escaped prisoners,” you had a smile plastered on your face. As if it was fun to you. “Don’t worry, I do that every day of the week,” you added, loud enough so the squad heard.

“This is bad, Y/N,” he said, barely above a whisper. You could feel he was extremely tense, he must go through a lot of pressure because of the situation.

After a briefing with everyone involved in the search, you quickly grabbed your phone and texted Rafael.

When this is all over, I’ll suck the pressure out of you.

You can read him. He hates it. But your text got him more aroused.

Rafael stayed at the precinct all night long, waiting for good news. You were around somewhere, chasing after Yates and Rudnick. He was exhausted. He couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Find them, babygirl. I don’t know how long I can wait. He texted you. Was it bad to think about you, your body, your most intimate parts, in a time like this? Probably. But it made this night go faster. He’s an ADA, there’s nothing he can do, except waiting. Many times he was told to go home. He could have. But he wanted you to take him home. He didn’t want to leave without you.

Maybe he was screwed already.

Still up, Sir, huh? Can’t go to sleep without a good fuck?

Y/N, do you really want to sext during a manhunting you’re leading?

Dodds driving. He thinks I’m exchanging with my team. To be fair, I am. You like when we sext, don’t you?

You know I do. But this is not an appropriate time to make me hard.

Cause sending me a pic of you masturbating while I’m out with my friends is appropriate, maybe?

Aw, still mad about that, babygirl? I thought you liked it.

I did. But you still haven’t paid for that.

Wasn’t I a good boy last night?

Hell, no and you know it. A good boy doesn’t come until he’s allowed to.

Whoops…

More punishment to come, Rafaelito. Just you wait.

Damn. Be fast, Y/N.

Everyone was out there looking for the two fugitives, so Rafael went to the restroom. He was getting really hard and he just wanted to stroke himself. But he couldn’t. The guilt gets the best of him. He can’t masturbate in SVU’s restroom in the middle of a manhunting. This is highly inappropriate. He couldn’t help but to look at nudes you sent him, though. After the first one you sent, you asked for his phone and made it secure. He had to enter a password to access the files where all your pictures were. There’s one he particularly loves and it’s not nude you sent. It’s a picture he took one night, while he had you handcuffed to his bed frame. He had just made you cum with his tongue and fingers, you had bites marks and hickeys on your body. You looked desperate in a good way. Your lips were swollen for all the kissing. He stood up on the bed, with his phone in hand. “Wh—what are you doing?” You asked, out of breath and confused.

“Immortalising my work of art,” he said and snapped the picture. “You’re so damn beautiful when you come down from your high, with all of these marks I made,”

What was he doing? Was he falling for you? No, he can’t. You have rules. He just fell for your fucking body. Your perfect body he can’t stop thinking about. He gave himself a few strokes while looking at the pictures but he got stopped by a text from Liv, saying they got Rudnick. He became self conscious about what he was doing. He zipped himself back in his pants, answered to Liv and waited until his erection was gone.

It took a few more hours before you found Yates too. He had been shot by you. Rafael didn’t know what to make of it. You never talk about your job or his, he doesn’t know how you’ll feel about killing someone. Maybe he won’t have sex for now. He had to go to his office anyway.

Putting an all nighter isn’t for him anymore. Poor man was exhausted, so he allowed himself a quick nap on his couch in the afternoon. He woke up, too his phone and saw he had a text from you.

Meet me tonight? My place?

Yes, please.

He showed up at your apartment around 7. He still didn’t know what to expect. He knocked and heard you saying it was open. He let himself in. He had come to your apartment three or four times only, you mostly met at his place. But he loves your apartment, it was minimalist but cozy, with a specific smell that was yours. He spotted you on your couch, a glass of wine in hand and another one of scotch waiting on the coffee table. He dropped his suitcase next to your kitchen counter and went to sit next to you.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment.

“Exhausted. I’m too old for sleepless nights,”

He laughed at that. You’re younger than him. “Don’t tell me about it,”

“Why did you stay? You could’ve gone back home. An ADA isn’t much help in a manhunt,”

“You ‘do that everyday of the week’, I thought it wouldn’t take you long to get them and that I could go home with you,”

“Teasing me, Rafael? Aren’t you in deep trouble already?”

“A little more, a little less. Who cares?”

“Finish your drink and get on your knees in front of me, Barba,”

He was in deep trouble every time you called him ‘Barba’. He did as told, he took the last sip of his scotch and got on his knees in front of you, waiting for your instructions. “Undress me,” you ordered. He undid your dark cargo pants, you lift your hips so he could take it off you. He then took off your blue blouse. You were in your underwear, matching dark purple lace. “Matching underwear, huh?” He smiled.

“Did I say you could talk?” You snapped.

“No ma’am. Sorry,” he swallowed. He was so hard already.

“Your case is getting worse, Barba. I want you to make me feel good, okay? You gonna take that silver tongue on yours and make me cum hard in your mouth,”

He nodded and softly traced his way on your thigh to your pussy with his mouth. He gave you a few kisses above the fabric of your panties and he put them aside. You were so wet and hot. He loved it but he didn’t say anything. He lapped a few times your clit, made small circles with his tongue before he gently hit it and sucked. He heard you moan and felt your nails on his scalp. He could cum by just eating you, but he had to control himself. He failed you two nights before, he can’t do it again. Rafael ate you like a starved man, until he felt your muscles tensing. You came on his face, chanting his name as you did. He felt proud. You were still coming down your high when you ordered him to go into the bedroom and wait for you, naked on your bed.

Rafael waited for what seemed to be hours. He had no idea what you were doing in the living room. He was naked on your bed and his erection was losing up. You finally joined him, with a glass of wine in one hand. You took sight of you as you drank. He felt like a prey and he loved every second of it. The look on your face as you looked at him was overwhelming. He felt like he was some kind of a sex god. “Getting tired, Barba?” You asked, finishing your drink.

“Never,” he answered, eagerly.

You put the glass on your desk and got on the bed. Your body was covering his and you kissed him deeply. You felt his cock getting hard against your abdomen. “Do you trust me?” You asked. For a moment, there was no game. No dominance. You just needed his trust and he gave it to you with a nod. You smiled, kissed him again and went to your closet.

You knew about Rafael’s bisexuality and you thought he was the one you could try the fantasy with. You came back and dropped a box next to the bed. He had no idea what was inside but he couldn’t wait to find out. But first, you wanted to go down on him. Your body over his, you gently kissed his neck and chest, biting here and there. “Hands above your head,” you said. “You don’t touch me, unless I allow you to,”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, breathing hard from the teasing. He loves when you worship his body like this. It makes him feel good looking, sexy even.

“I’m gonna suck your big cock, Rafaelito. But if you come in my mouth, we won’t see each other for a long moment,” you warned him and he whined. “Show me what a good boy you are, or I’ll find someone else,”

Rafael tried to ignore the twinge in his heart when you said that. He doesn’t want you to find someone else. “I’ll be good, Y/N. I promise,” he breathed out. He was dying to touch you, kiss your body just like you’re kissing his. He was dying to fuck you senseless and ruin every other man for you.

The first lick you gave on his cock made him jump. “God,” he muttered. “Think about some boring law stuff,” he told himself. You took an enormous time licking and kissing his length before finally taking him in your mouth. You feel so warm, so good. You sucked him for a moment, you could feel his hips moving so his cock could hit the bottom of your throat. You watched him losing it. Rafael was fighting his urge to grab your hair and guide your mouth on him. You sucked his balls to give him a rest, but his cock was throbbing. He wanted to come, so bad. You went back to his long and heavy length, until you felt him grabbing your face and pulling you off. “I—I was about to—“ he was out of breath, “I’m sorry. Lo siento,” Rafael was all sweaty, his heart was racing so hard, he was sure you could hear it. “You’re so good—you—“ you shut him with a kiss and used your body to make him lay down again.

He took the opportunity to run his hands over your body. Since you didn’t say anything, he kept going and felt your skin under his fingers. He knew you were giving him time to recover, to gain control of his orgasm, but no matter what you had in mind next, he wasn’t going to last long. “Need a drink?” You gently offered.

“I—I’d like to, yes,”

He watched your ass sway as you left the room. You had grabbed your empty glass on the way, and came back with both glasses full. You sat to his side while you both drunk. He was staring. “Are you okay?” He asked.

You smiled. “Sure. Aren’t you?”

“On the edge,” he giggled.

You leaned in to kiss him. It wasn’t like the usual kisses. It was soft, tender, almost loving. “Your relief is coming, don’t worry,” you smiled against his mouth.

Once you both had finished your drinks, you finally showed him what was in the box. Among other things was a strap-on. You showed it to Rafael and saw his eyes darken. You needed his approval. “What do—?” You started to ask but he cut you off.

“Yes, yes! Yes, please,”

His reaction was better than you imagined. With a grin on your face, you jumped back on your bed and asked him to grab the lub from the nightstand. “To be honest, I’ve never done that before,” you giggled. Rafael could see you were a little tipsy - and maybe nervous? - but he trusted you anyway.

He cupped your cheek. “I trust you, Y/N. I’m all yours,” there was more means to this. He was yours in so many ways.

Before you started, he made one request. He wanted to be on his back while you fucked him with the strap-on. He wanted to see you, to look at you. He also wanted you to see him. Your looks make him feel so good.

After agreeing, you started to work on his butthole. You gently stroked with your saliva at first, and put some lube on your fingers before you slid one in him. He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. You gently worked on opening him. You were watching him all along, looking for any sign of discomfort on his face, but all you could see was pleasure. “Fuck me with it, please, Y/N,” he begged. Rafael was so hard, so excited, he didn’t know how long he could control himself.

You lined the plastic cock with his open butthole. “You can do better than that, Rafael,”

“Give it to you, I’m begging you. I need you to fuck me good, mi amor,” neither you or him paid attention to the pet name.

You gently pushed the strap-on into Rafael. Still staring at his face to see if it was okay, but he kept begging for more. After it was all in, you started to thrust into him. Slow and deep at first, you watched the plastic thing disappearing inside his ass, and Rafael’s cock rocking hard. “I’m gonna—I need to come, Y/N, please,”

Poor thing was on the edge more than he ever been. “Come for me, Rafael,”

He grabbed his cock and gave himself a few strokes until he came hard, screaming your name in the middle of Spanish curses. You were already soaking wet but the sight of him coming as you were fucking him, could’ve made you come too. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

As he was coming down from his orgasm, he saw you on the edge of the bed, fingering yourself. You needed the relief too. Rafael used his last strength to sit up and replace your fingers with his. He fingerfucked you and sucked on your nipples. You were holding him so close to your chest, he could barely breathe but he didn’t mind. He kept going until you came. He caught your moans with his mouth and watched you falling apart.

Screw the rules, he was in love.

Once you both came down, Rafael was scared you’d asked him to leave. No cuddling was also a rule. But tonight you didn’t care. You turned off the light and crawled into bed with him. “Does that mean I can stay?” He asked.

You tiredly giggled. “You’re asking now that I turned off the light?”

“Just wanted to make sure,” he said. “Can I hold you though?”

“Spoon or nothing,” you said.

Spooning you was perfect to Rafael.

#law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order: special victims unit #rafael barba x you #barba x reader #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfic

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

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Sub Rosa [92]

viii. anaconda

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: angst, language, anxiety.

Summary: your average day as a disciple quickly becomes not so average when a new group arrives in bardo.

a/n: a shorter upload after a few longer ones, and then we’ll be getting into some good ones next week! still can’t believe we’re almost done! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You wake the same way you have for the last three months in Bardo: before the morning alarm goes off.

Your eyes pull open to the room around you, larger than any room you’ve ever had before, but modest in belongings, only holding the necessities. You roll over and stare at the ceiling, your mind going the same place it does every morning: to Bellamy and Clarke.

Bellamy, who has been dead for months at this point, is still on your mind. Some days, the loss is as fresh as it was the moment you found out, though you can never show it. Other days, you find yourself forgetting him. The sound of his voice, the feel of his lips on your own, the laugh that he saved just for you. That bright smile that made you feel on top of the world. All of that is gone, and even worse, you're starting to forget.

The realization that you’re starting to forget might be worse than actually forgetting, because the realization is always accompanied by guilt. Sometimes you find yourself smiling, enjoying yourself, and then the memory of Bellamy’s death comes right back to you, sucking the happiness from the moment. But the guilt from forgetting him, from realizing that those lost memories are nearly impossible to get back, it eats at you. Reminds you daily of what Bardo and the disciples took from you. And when you feel yourself forgetting your anger, softening to this planet and these people, Wanlida reminds you.

In a way, you’re not sure you can live without her now.

Her presence has always been pushed away, buried deep, not wanting to accept that she could be a part of you. But since your arrival on Skyring and Wanlida’s initial takeover, you rely on her to remind you of your anger. You rely on her to remind you of the feral, dark, awful parts of your soul that crave the destruction of Bardo. She keeps your anger sharp and expression blank, like Echo, who condemned you for Wanlida on Skyring, but who now acts just as cold. So much of her was lost when Bellamy died, and at first it brought out the jealousy in you. But as time passed, you started to realize that it wasn’t so much the loss of Bellamy that changed Echo. Sure, his death hardened her heart, but the knowledge that her family is broken, that more of the people she loves are either dying or in danger? That’s what changed her. She is so much like the Azgeda spy you met in Mount Weather, and so little like the woman you called sister on Skyring. It hurts you to see that change in her, though you suspect the others often feel the same way about you.

Your mind also drifts to Clarke, your twin, your other half, the time you’ve spent without her stretching on and on. You wonder if you’ll ever see her again, your time apart now going on five plus years, though it’s felt like less for her. Anders told all of you months ago that he sent a team after her, and that it would take time for them to return to Bardo due to the time dilation, but you’ve never had much trust in Anders. Not since everything he put you through in M-Cap.

Still, you hope he’s wrong. Because despite missing your sister so much it physically hurts you sometimes, you don't want her here. You don't want her on Bardo, on this damn planet that has either taken people you love or changed them forever. You want her somewhere else, anywhere else, as long as it’s safe and she’s okay. Bardo has been nothing but terrible for you from the moment you arrived, and you don't want that for Clarke. You hope that she’s on Sanctum and she’s happy and at peace. You hope that everyone has learned to get along, and that she is building a compound for the rest of your people, the way all of you were trying to do before everything went to shit. You hope Madi is okay, and that she’s going to school, the way she always wanted to. You miss your bright little sun and her endless hope for the world, because these days, you could use some of her hope.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the morning alarm, and you roll out of bed, dressing quickly for your day, the fifteen minute countdown starting. You make sure your hair is out of the way before you pull on a disciple suit, your disciple suit, given to you this time instead of being stolen from a dead body. It’s comfortable enough, which is good because you usually pull long days, picking up extra shifts where you can. Anything to keep your brain distracted from thinking, or from the memories that threaten to plague you.

As soon as you’re dressed and your helmet is in hand, you push the button on your door and step outside, joining Echo, Octavia, and Diyoza as they come down the hall towards you. All of you keep your expressions mostly blank, only nodding in greeting, aware that someone is always watching in Bardo. All of you were supposed to sever your familial bonds weeks ago, and though you pretended to, none of you actually did. Well, except for Echo. Only in your occasional secret meetings do you interact the way you normally would, though paranoia has made even those few and far between these days.

All of you move down the hall towards the mess hall, the disciple schedule pretty structured and routine. You wake up during the alarm and have 15 minutes to get ready. Walk to the mess hall and have breakfast for 30 minutes. Light training for an hour before going to your assignments for 4 hours. Break for lunch for an hour, more advanced training afterwards for at least an hour. Return to your assignments for the remainder of your shift, then report to dinner. After dinner, there is personal time before it’s lights out. There isn't an official curfew, but it’s generally frowned upon to be out after personal time since they want everyone in the best shape possible for the Last War. The exceptions, of course, are additional training sessions for the betterment of Bardo, or extra shifts picked up to help someone out. Because everything that you do is for all mankind, it’s encouraged to help others. Because helping others is helping everyone, and that’s all they care about here.

As you step into the mess hall, your eyes instinctively search the room, looking for Gabriel. You do it every morning, being careful to be subtle, as you haven't seen him since they dragged you from your shared cell three months ago. You haven't seen him in the halls, and since you’re supposed to be indifferent about him, you can't ask around, leaving you to wonder if he’s okay, or even on Bardo at all. But just like every morning, Gabriel is not among the people dressed in white in the mess hall, leaving you to worry about him, as usual.

You hop in line and grab your meal, some sort of non descript something, designed for energy and efficiency, to meet all of your nutritional needs. It’s not very good, though you guess it isn't awful. It keeps you full until the next meal, and it’s edible, but it makes you long for the days of family meals on Skyring. It even makes you miss Hope’s jellyfish etouffee. Hope. Awaiting her Penance on Skyring, thanks to Echo. How the hell are you going to get her out of this one?

You shake your head, scrambling your thoughts, not wanting to fall down this rabbit hole right now, because you’ll never get out of it. Instead, you separate from Octavia, Echo, and Diyoza, all of you moving to sit at different tables with different people, appearing not to care about each other. You sit down with a group of level 2s, nodding in greeting before eating your nutrition bar and drinking your nutrition shake. You imagine that it’s something delicious, making it easier for you to get down, tricking your brain into thinking that you enjoy it, just like everything else in Bardo.

As soon as you finish, you stand and return your tray to the line, leaving it to be cleaned, turning just in time to stop yourself from running into Octavia. The two of you apologize, pretending to be strangers, and as you start to move apart, towards your respective assignments, an alarm blares out.

“Attention all available disciples: please report to Level 8. I repeat, please report to Level 8.”

You and Octavia exchange a look, the request odd, as it sounds urgent. You both immediately start following the wave of other disciples, pulling on your helmet as you go, trying to understand the wave of urgency moving through the crowd. The 8th level. You rack your brain to find the map of Bardo that you memorized years ago, mentally running through the levels until you reach the 8th one. The cryo labs. The Shepherd.

The man you spent the last few months learning about, whose teachings you had to memorize, resides on the 8th level. And he is only disturbed every few years to be updated on the progress of the Last War before he is returned back to cryo until the next update. But if all of you are being sent to the 8th level, then that means that either something is wrong, or the Shepherd is awake. And as all of you rise in the elevator to the 8th level, you think that maybe both guesses are true. There is a quiet nervousness rustling through the crowd, indicating that this is not something normal, and as the doors slide open to your destination, a sharp intake of breath moves though the disciples around you.

As everyone marches out of the elevator and into the hall, you see why.

Standing beside Anders is an older man, his hair and beard long, sandals on his feet, you know that only he could be the Shepherd. You only get a glimpse of him as you move by and fall into formation, but when you do, you realize that you recognize him. Something about his face is so damned familiar, though you don't know why. It bothers you as Anders tells all of you that there is a disturbance in the Stone Room, it bothers you as you move down the hall and guard the two men, and it bothers you as you arrive at the one way off of Bardo. And as you stand there, less than six feet behind the Shepherd, you realize that the man in question is Bill Fucking Cadogan.

Crazed cult leader that built the Second Dawn Bunker beneath the tower of Polis, the man that burned Becca Pramheda at the stake, the man that has been alive since the first Praimfaya, nearly hundreds of years ago, is now standing in front of you. So many questions are running through your mind, primarily ‘how the hell is this possible?’, until you remember Gabriel’s words to you when you first arrived on Bardo, listening to a speech given by Anders. There must be a stone on Earth.

Bill Cadogan found an Anomaly Stone on Earth and came to Bardo. Bill Cadogan took his cult to the next level by delivering them from Praimfaya, into the safety of Bardo. Bill Cadogan stays asleep in cryo for years at a time, waiting for an update on the Last War, so that he can lead Bardo into battle. And if Bill Cadogan is awake and standing in front of you right now, waiting for the doors to the Stone Room to open, that can only mean one thing.

The Key to the Last War is here.

Clarke is here.

As if on cue, the doors slide open. Anders and Bill peer inside, their eyes searching the scene. Clarke is there, along with Raven, Miller, Niylah, Jordan, and Gabriel, weapons pointed Bill’s way. And you have to ignore every cell in your body that is telling you to run to your twin and tell her everything. Because you have a part to play, one you’ve been carefully playing for months, a part that you can't mess up now. You feel someone beside you shift, their glove brushing yours, and you're sure it’s Octavia, her face likely smiling behind her helmet at the sight of Clarke, the same way yours is.

And though you want to run into the Stone Room with her and shut the door behind you, you watch as Bill lifts his hands in surrender, head turning towards the Bardoans trapped in the room. “I’m coming in alone, unarmed.”

Bill starts walking inside, and Raven yells from the back, “Who are you?”

“They call me the Shepherd, but you can call me Bill.” You see his arms drop, though your gaze is focused on Clarke. She is watching Bill closely, realization crossing her features as she remembers the pages of articles Jaha showed all of you years ago, before you knew about Bardo or Anomaly Stones. Bill focuses on Clarke now, directing his plea to her. “You have me. Now let my people go.”

Clarke shakes her head a little, getting a hold of herself, before turning and muttering. “It’s okay.”

All of the Bardoans quickly run from the room, moving out into the hall and away from the confrontation, leaving Gabriel behind with the others. And with a roll of anxiety, you watch the doors to the Stone Room slide closed again, cutting off your view of your twin sister, oblivious to her importance to Bill and his cause.

You stand staring at the door intently, willing it to open, your concentration disturbed by Anders’ low voice. “When that door opens, I want weapons on everyone. Clarke Griffin is not to be harmed, and the Shepherd must be protected. All other occupants can be disposed of.”

The words bring your anxiety crashing back. Though your twin will be safe, the others are not, and you're not sure you can watch them being shot down. Even if it means blowing your cover, you're sure you’ll fight to save them. You don't have to worry for long, because within minutes the door beeps, indicating that it’s being opened, and all of you lift your arms in one swift motion, activating your weapons. You train them into the room, your eyes landing instantly on Clarke, who is standing in the same place, a gun now held to Bill’s head. You smile a little, hoping that maybe all of you will get off this planet after all, when Bill commands, “Weapons down, all of you.”

Without hesitating, you all disengage and lower your arms in tandem, and Anders takes a few steps into the room. Bill turns to look at him, his voice lower. “Send in their friends.”

Without turning around, Anders motions towards the four of you. The crowd parts around you, and Octavia nudges you ahead, into motion. You lead them into the room, standing in front, Octavia and Diyoza standing in a line behind you. Echo stands in the rear, directly behind you, the four of you forming a diamond shape. And as you walk towards Clarke, you take a deep pull of air and calm your breathing, because you know what’s coming. You’re about to take off your helmet and look at your sister as if she’s a stranger, likely breaking her heart in the process. In doing so, it’ll break your own.

You will have to resist every fiber of your being that wants to reach out to her, reassure her, let her know that it’s all a joke, because now isn't the time. It isn't safe. Despite Clarke’s control over Bill right now, a group of disciples is right behind you, ready to attack in an instant, putting all of you at risk.

As you get closer, everyone is already looking at you in confusion, unsure of what’s going on. You come to a stop a few feet away from them, and Clarke shifts her and Bill closer. In tandem, the four of you reach up and tug off your helmets, moving them into your right arm before dropping your left arm by your side. You keep your jaw set, eyes and expression blank, removing any love or joy or excitement from them. Clarke stares at you in horror, her expression dropping, tears springing to her eyes. You have to glance away, sure that you'll break if you see her cry, your eyes casually raking over the others. They all look just as horrified, just as anxious as Clarke, staring at four people who were their friends and family less than a few days ago.

None of them realize that you have spent years separated from them, scattered between two planets, forced to break the bonds that united you and made you human. Now, to them, you are machines. Uncaring, unfeeling, blank machines.

And Clarke Griffin doesn't realize that her la lune is still inside of you, hidden behind this mask.

She doesn't realize that a small metal moon hangs around your ankle, hidden from the eyes of the people of Bardo, the charm brushing against a ring with a sapphire stone. She doesn't realize that the eyes that are blankly staring at her are hiding a storm of emotions that have cried countless tears for her. She doesn't realize that you have spent months, years, trying to figure out how to get back to her. That you have had to sacrifice and bear so much, and that you understand how heavy her leadership has weighed on her. She doesn't realize the loss you have experienced as you stand before her.

Because when you left her in Sanctum, you left her with Bellamy at your side.

And now, as you return to her on Bardo, you return alone.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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petitrenard · 5 years ago

Text

I can’t finish

Jessica stood outside the door and felt her heart beating in her chest. She was surprised she could feel anything. Chicago had been hit with another sub zero snowstorm and the short walk from her office to this front door was enough to make her reconsider her decision to move back home. Although, if she were being completely honest with herself, this was exactly where she wanted to be at this moment.

As she began taking off the layers of outerwear, she got a bit light headed and leaned her head against the wall of the entryway. Or was it a vestibule? Despite 3 years of design she always got those two confused. Proper terminology aside, she leaned her head on the wall of the area directly outside of the apartment door of the man she wanted to sleep with that wasn’t her husband. Jessica chuckled to herself, I’m not sure there’s an architectural term for this particular space.

As she was playing over the events of earlier in the day, the apartment door opened. Even though she wasn’t expecting it to open, she knew that it was going to open and although abrupt, she wasn’t startled. From the doorway Liam handed her a drink and grabbed her tote. “Jessica! You don’t have to stand in the entryway all night.”

She made a mental note, Entryway. Entryway. Check. This is an entryway. Check. Jessica took a moment to drink in the situation. Her hesitation must’ve telegraphed and Liam extended his hand out to her and said, “You can slam that whiskey in my entryway, I can hand you your Louis with my manuscript inside, you can walk out of here and you can never look back. But I’d be a real dick if I sent you out to the El platform without at least making sure you warmed up first.”

The thought of freezing while waiting for the El was not even remotely ideal. She considered for a moment, took her gloves off and walked inside.

As the door shut behind her, Jessica looked around at Liam’s place. It was a converted warehouse space, which wasn’t what she expected, and that definitely telegraphed. As Liam walked past her he remarked, “If you think the foyer is nice, you should see the rest of the place.”

She followed him into his living room. It was gorgeous. An original Pollock hung over the roaring fireplace, polished concrete floors, floor to ceiling windows with a large french door that led out to a lush indoor/outdoor terrace complete with a hot tub. Her bones ached to climb into the steaming hot tub. She also wondered how anything could be lush in the middle of a Chicago winter - making a mental note for small talk.

Jessica took a deep breath...this place, combined with this guy was trouble. She was at his place for a legitimate reason - his manuscript was about to be in production and they had to go over the copy editors queries. She knew better than to go to an authors home though - especially since her husband was out of the country and she didn’t plan on telling him about the visit when they talked tomorrow afternoon. The 100%, completely legitimate work visit between a new client and his editor was not going to be discussed.

In the 10 years she had been married, Jessica had never given another man a second look. She was happy, she was stable and it was a healthy relationship, but fuck was she bored. So this afternoon when Liam asked her to swing by after work to go over the edits, she leapt at the opportunity.

Liam Clark was a designer, writer, and noted post-disaster expert that had just finished a successful nationwide lecture tour. The big publishing houses had courted him, but he and Jessica hit it off instantly. Her independent publishing house was small, but well respected in the literary world and their arts focused content was second to none. Not to mention her robust multi platform approach to promotion and distribution. Liam signed during their first meeting.

She was thankful that he wanted to get right to business. His manuscript was splayed out across his coffee table and he sat right down. Instantly she felt silly for assuming that their rapport at her office earlier was anything more than a new client taking the opportunity to develop a relationship with his editor.

The two of them began pouring over the notes, drinking, eating and laughing. A few hours had easily passed and Liam got up to stir the fire. Jessica hadn’t looked at her phone or outside until the Weather Alert tone sounded. Significant Weather Advisory, Winter Storm with up to 8” of snow expected along with dangerously low wind chill. Fuck. For the first time all night, Jessica stood up and went to the front window.

The street was absolutely empty and the wind and snow was blowing with an almost comical ferocity. She shook her head. There would be no El tonight. Jessica opened the Uber app to try to get a car - No Cars Available. She would have to go back to her office and spend the night there. Perfect. A night on my couch. Love it. This is why you can’t have nice things Jessica.

Liam walked up to the window with another drink in his hand and handed it to Jessica. “Liam, I have to get going. I’ve got to get back to my office before it gets any worse out there and I can’t walk.”

“Jessica, you can’t go out there.”

“It’s fine. It’s only 2 blocks to the office. I’ve got a couch & a whole set up. I’ll be fine.” Jessica was doing a really bad job at selling this scenario. She didn’t want to go spend the night in her stupid office. She wanted to stay here, with the charming, handsome, successful man and sink into his hot tub.

“No way. You’re wearing high heeled boots, those are all fashion no function. Let’s say I let you venture out into the blustery, freezing Chicago night. You become disoriented and never make it to your office. They find your chic but frozen body with my manuscript in your tote. Next thing I know the cops are looking at me for answers...and the literary world never forgives me for letting the beautiful and talented Jessica Simpson, no relation, walk out of my warm apartment.”

“You make a compelling point. It’s not a problem if I stay here?”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have offered.”

She glanced out at the street, back into the apartment and then back at Liam. “All right, I’ll stay. Thank you.”

Liam smiled, “Perfect! I’ll get dinner started.”

Jessica hated how much she loved this attention and felt a little bit guilty. Is a 100% completely legitimate business sleepover a thing? Yes. As long as I don’t sleep with him, it is absolutely a thing. She glanced over at Liam turning on the burner of his industrial stove and wondered what a 90% legitimate business sleepover looked like.

“How can I help?” she asked.

“Why don’t you turn on the hot tub and find a movie on Netflix! I know it’s pretty basic, but the hot tub is perfect for a bone chilling night like this.”

Fuck. The percentages on legitimacy were rapidly diminishing the longer she stayed. She looked back at the street one last time, saw a couple stagger through the snow down the street, fall into a snowbank and drew the shades. In for a penny in for a pound. Jessica admonished herself. In for a pound? A pound? Oh you dirty birdie. You ma’am are a bad person. She nearly sprinted to the hot tub and started the bubbles.

Dinner was lovely and lively. As Jessica cleaned up, her insistence, Liam went to grab another bottle of whiskey from his bar. The apartment was warm and had a lovely warm glow. The steam from the hot tub made the room feel almost tropical. She was glad that she hadn’t left.

Liam came back with a fresh bottle of whiskey and asked the million dollar question. “Want to jump in the tub?”

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“It’s ok. I have an oversized t-shirt if you want.”

Jessica was instantly glad that she had worn a matching bra and panty set. “Ok, if it’s not too weird. I’ve kind of been dying to get in.” And then she did something completely bold. Still unsure if it was the whiskey, the terminal fidelity or good old fashioned lust, Jessica began undressing in Liam’s kitchen...he didn’t stop her.

She stood in her bra and panties in his kitchen. Her clothes in a heap at her feet. She let her hair down. Liam had poured her another drink and placed it on the counter in front of him. Jessica grabbed it and as she walked past him she gently brushed his hand with her body. “Thanks Liam. I’m going to get into the tub now.”

Before she got past him, Liam grabbed her wrist. Jessica froze. She didn’t want to meet his eyes. She already knew exactly what he wanted. It was exactly what she wanted. Instead she looked at her wrist and his hand. He pulled her hand towards his cock and instinctively her body pressed against him.

She lifted his shirt up and pressed her belly to his. Liam groaned and pulled her body closer to him. Jessica pushed his shirt up further as she began kissing his belly on her way down to her knees. This was the moment that she knew in the war between all or nothing, she had chosen all. She ached for him. As she looked into his eyes, she knew he ached for her.

He undid his pants, she pulled them down and welcomed his hard cock into her mouth. She groaned and took him in her mouth with an eagerness to please him that neither she nor Liam had ever experienced. She wanted to know every single inch of his body, by mastering what was before her.

As the tip of Liam’s cock slid down the back of Jessica’s throat, he whimpered. His pleasure only made her want to please him more. She looked up at him, grasped his cock with her hand and said, “I want to please you Liam. I want to give you everything you want. Please let me please you.”

He looked down at her open mouth and pushed his cock back onto her warm, waiting tongue. “I want you to suck my cock until my balls are empty.” And with a single thrust he was deep in her mouth. Jessica took it all and Liam grabbed her hair in his hand, “That’s a very good girl. You’re making me very happy Jessica.” Liam’s encouragement made her work harder to please him. She brought him close to climax multiple times and as she edged him down she said, “Will you please put your cock inside of me?”

Liam took a moment as his cock rested on her tongue. “Jessica. My cock is already inside of you. It’s inside your mouth. Where else could possibly you want my cock?”

Jessica let go of him and slowly stood up. As she did she slid her panties down to her knees. As she pulled them down there was a long string of precum from her pussy to her panties. She grabbed Liam’s cock and pushed it against her wet pussy. “I want it here.”

Liam took a deep breath, put his fingers between her legs, spread her pussy and pushed his cock inside of her.

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fanficwriter013 · 7 years ago

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The Tower

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 1

Chapters: one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight

Tower Masterlist

Word Count: 2330

Warnings: Smut (F/F, fingering slight dom/sub)

Synopsis: How does someone with no superpowers, no real discernible talents and a whole lot of baggage end up being the girlfriend to all the Avengers? Well, I’m glad you asked. It all started with a blur and an abrupt crash. Here is the initial meeting, and the events that follow.

Author’s Note: Bug Kate @emilyevanston about the gorgeous Header, she made it. This story is NOT a Nat X Reader. It’s an Avengers X OC piece, which means a poly relationship. There will be many different combinations of pairings within this story.

How does someone with no superpowers, no real discernible talents and a whole lot of baggage end up being the girlfriend to all the Avengers? Well, I’m glad you asked. It all started with a blur and an abrupt crash.

As usual, I was late. That happened a lot. I tend to get caught up in my head while I’m working in the lab or the library. Which is a problem because as part of my post doctoral position I had to teach an Intro to Biology class six times a week. I was dashing down the steps of the library, across the lawn and just smashed headlong into another person.

All I really noticed as I picked myself back up, helped her to her feet and apologized profusely was she was small, dressed in black and had dark red hair. She didn’t really even say anything to me, just ‘don’t worry about it’ and I took off again.

It was as I stood panting in the lecture theatre, getting the slideshow started for the lecture I realized how close I came to death that day. The woman I had flattened was the Black Widow.

Nothing notable happened over the next few weeks. I worked in the lab going through blood samples and went through the results of my tests in the library trying to get some papers written so I might actually get some more publications out. I wrote lectures and delivered them to my classes of 300 odd students. I set assignments and exams.

Then one day I was giving my lecture and I scanned the crowd and there was that red hair sitting right up the back. It took a moment to register and when I looked back it was gone again. I wrote it off as not having enough caffeine that morning.

A month later, I was having lunch in a coffee shop not far from where I lived. I had one of my notebooks open and I was focussed pretty intently on it. I didn’t notice when she sat down opposite me.

“Hi.” She said and I looked up at her and nearly jumped out of my skin. She was dressed casually today. A light grey t-shirt over jeans. Her hair loose and falling in waves down her back.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry. It was an accident. I swear.” I babbled. Feeling fairly certain she’d tracked me down to exact her revenge upon me.

She smirked at me. It was an expression that made her look adorable and sexy and deadly all at once. In that exact moment, I developed an all consuming crush on Natasha Romanoff of the Avengers.

“I’m not here because of that. Or maybe I am a little.” She said, reaching over the table and touching the back of my hand. “I think you're cute.”

I think for a second my brain short circuited. I’m not sure if she noticed or not. What I said back was. “Oh, okay.” You know, like that was just a normal thing to be told by Black Widow.

“My name’s Natasha, you’re Elise right?” She said, with a small shake of her head like she’d realized how huge of a dork I am and actually found it a little charming.

I squeaked. An actual squeak sound bubbled up from my chest and escaped out of my mouth. Right in front of Black Widow. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I’ve been watching you. Needed to be sure before I asked you out.” She answered.

The memory of the red hair at the back of the lecture hall returned. “You were in my class.”

“That’s right.” She answered.

“You wanted to ask me out? Like on a date?” I asked.

“Mm hmm… It would need to be low key though. I get a lot of looks these days.” She said, nodding her head backward. I glanced around the coffee shop and noticed a lot of people looking over in our direction. Some trying to be subtle about it. Others who just had their phones out and were taking photos.

“I could make you dinner if you like.” I suggested, not ever realizing that a) she hadn’t asked me out yet. And b) I hadn’t accepted the offer.

It made Natasha laugh though. The sound made my stomach flip. “Are you asking me out instead?”

I nodded. “Yes. Would you like to come to my place for dinner? Maybe on Friday?”

“I’d love to.” Natasha agreed. “I need you to know something though. I’m not monogamous.”

I chewed on my lip processing what she just told me. “So like, you just want a one-time thing?” It seemed strange that she would have gone to so much effort tailing me for a one night stand. But I figured that the life of an ex-assassin, super spy, founding member of the Avengers was probably more complicated than I would ever be able to wrap my head around.

Natasha gave a subtle shake of her head. “Not at all. I wouldn't call myself the girlfriend type exactly but a few other people would beg to differ.” She said. “I'm polyamorous. There are a few people I see. Kind of a group that are all together. But I’ll also go out of the group too. Usually, I don’t date outside the group though. Just hook up.”

I furrowed my brow a little, looked down at myself and back up at her and scratched my head. “And you’re making an exception for me?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” She answered rather cryptically.

That was the start of my relationship with Natasha Romanoff. She took it quite slow, to be honest. We did low key like she wanted. Mostly she just came by my apartment and I’d cook or we’d order in take out. It felt more like I just had this new badass friend for a while. She bitched about work. She talked about the other Avengers. She listened to me geek out about science and rolled her eyes every time I made a stupid pun. But nothing physically happened for weeks. We touched no more than a couple of close friends might. Just hugs and a little innocent hand holding. Sometimes she sent me text messages that contained a picture of a cute animal and just ‘Clint made me do it’.

I really liked her though. I wanted more, but I was fine if this was all she was willing to give. Natasha had an air about her. You could adore her and worship the ground she walked on and if all she ever did was glance down in your direction from time to time it was enough.

It was a month before things changed and when they did it happened all at once. We didn’t have a first kiss and then a make out session and then feeling each other up. We went from 0 to 100 in 3 seconds flat. With Natasha, I would expect nothing less.

She came around to my apartment after getting home from a mission. She’d never come directly to me before after one. She has other people she sees. Ones she’s known longer. Ones she is more physical with.

She had a bottle of vodka in a paper bag and just collapsed on my couch. “I am exhausted.” She sighed.

I went and grabbed some shot glasses and put them on the table. She filled each of them and we took a shot. “You want me to make you something to go with that? Or I could order in?”

Natasha shook her head and leaned down to unfasten her boots. “In a bit maybe. I just wanted to hear how my girl’s doing?”

“I’m fine, Nat. Nothing much new to tell. Exams are soon. So I’ve been writing that.” I replied, watching Natasha. She started to rub her thighs with her fists. “I’m your girl?”

Natasha looked up at me and smiled. “One of only two. Well, maybe three if you count Maria, but she’s worse than me when it comes to being labeled.”

All I could think was ‘but we have never had sex, how am I your girl?’ Then I wondered if maybe Natasha was asexual and wasn’t aware that friendship was a thing. Or there was something I was missing here. What I said was; “Can I help you with that?”

Natasha put her legs up into my lap and I positioned myself between them. I lifted one leg onto my shoulder and started to knead her thigh. She let out a low graphic moan. “That feels really good.”

“I’m good with my hands.” I joked, looking down into her green eyes.

I kept rubbing her legs, my hand moving higher, ever closer to her cunt. I stopped before I touched her there and looked at her. “I really like you, Natasha,” I said quietly as my hands sat dangerously close to her sex.

Natasha sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down on top of her and crashing her lips into mine. We kissed hungrily and passionately, biting and sucking at each other. She rolled me over and I fell onto the ground making an involuntary ‘oof’ sound as she landed on top of me.

“I think we should take this to bed.” She said, looking down at me. Her pupils were blown out with lust.

I nodded my head and she helped me up and pushed me against the wall. I’m actually five inches taller than Nat, but she still dominated me. I was wearing a dress that day. It was a light blue sundress with white polka dots. Natasha tore it off me so fast one of the straps snapped. She was wearing her catsuit. It was only something I saw her in once before. I think she must have just taken off her weaponry and come straight to me. I hurriedly unzipped it and pushed it down.

When we were both just in our panties, Natasha spun me and walked me back towards the bed. We kissed the entire distance and even as we crawled up onto the mattress. She slipped a hand into my panties and started running her fingers up and down my folds. I went to do the same to her and she grabbed my hand and pinned it over my head. “No, mishka. I want to watch you.” She scolded. “I want you to hold onto the headboard and not move your hands until I say so. You can do that can't you?”

“Yes, Natalia,” I said quietly, moving my hands to the headboard and bracing them there. I'd never called her that before. I always just called her Nat or Tasha or just some random pet name that popped in my head. But the way she was telling me what to do flicked some switch over in me and I just wanted to be good for her. I knew Natalia was the more formal version of her name and I wanted her to know that she was the boss and I would be good.

A half smile played over her lips and she ran her tongue over them. “Moyà khoróshaya. So good for me.” She purred, and she brought her lips to mine. Her fingers teased at the entrance to my cunt before moving back up and circling over my clit.

She slowly fingered me as her mouth trailed over my neck and chest. Sometimes her lips just ghosted over my skin making me break out in goosebumps. Sometimes she sucked dark red marks on my skin. When she reached my breasts I was dripping for her. My body trembled and my cunt ached for relief. She pushed two fingers inside of me and I gasped, tensing up under her. I was just starting to relax again when she bit down on my nipple.

“Fuck, Natalia!” I cried out as my back curved off the mattress and my hands gripped the headboard tightly.

“That’s it, myshonok. Let it happen.” Natasha cooed.

I relaxed back down and she started stroking her fingers hard over my g-spot. She sucked my nipple into her mouth and pressed her teeth on it sending a jolt through me. She then switched to the other nipple. I couldn’t focus. My hands opened and closed on the headboard and I started to writhe under her. My legs tried to close so I could escape my impending orgasm.

“Oh no, plokháya dévochka. You be good for me now. You don’t want to find out what I do to bad girls.” Natasha scolded, forcing my legs open for her.

Part of me really wanted to find out what she did to bad girls. Not this time though. This time I was going to be good for her. I let out a slow breath, giving in to her. “I’m sorry, Natalia.” I whimpered.

She brought her head back up and looked down into my blue eyes with her green. “That’s my girl.” She purred, grinding her knuckles into my g-spot. “When you come, I want you to say my name.”

I nodded, completely unable to form words at this point. My whole body was just on the edge. My legs trembled and my toes curled. I kept my eyes locked with Natasha’s though. “Oh fuck… fuck… oh god…” I chanted. She sped up her thumb on my clit and her fingers pressed hard down on my g-spot and dragged over it. It was like a dam burst inside of me. I came hard, arching right back. “Natalia!” I screamed.

She kept stroking me through it and when I finally settled she pulled her hand away and licked her fingers. “You look very beautiful when you come, mishka.” She purred. “Now, if you feel so inclined, you may return the favor.”

I licked my lips and wrapped my arms around her neck. “I definitely feel so inclined.”

#marvel #avengers #fanfic #fanfiction #natasha romanoff #the tower

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jungkookienoona · 7 years ago

Text

The Meme and His Tutor

Part 27: The Day Awkward Questions Were Asked

Co-written with @tragicshadows

Recommended Song: Dimple by BTS (Vocal Line sub-unit)

|All Chapters|Masterlist|

Summary:

Jungkook finally tells you what's been bothering him and you both reveal more than you expected to.

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2959

Length: 27?

The clock was mocking you. It had been twenty minutes since Jungkook had messaged you to see if you were free to Skype, and after confirming your lack of plans he said he would give you a call. He must've been held up with something. He was always so busy lately that you wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't even made it back to the dorm yet.

You sighed and slumped in your seat. Patience had never been your strong point but you were working on it. Deciding not to bore yourself by staring at a screen you got up to make a hot drink. The question was what did you make? You grabbed the tub of hot chocolate powder and noticed you probably had just enough for one mug. Decision made.

You were just spooning the powder into a mug of hot milk when you heard the distinct ringing of a Skype call. Shit.

You tipped the powder directly from the container into the mug, stirring as you briskly walked over to your laptop and clicked accept.

"You really know how to time things don't you?" You chuckled.

"Well hello to you too." Jungkook grinned. He ran his hand through his hair while raising a curious eyebrow at you. "Did I interrupt something?"

You raised your mug, "I was making a drink."

He looked off camera then held up his own mug, "Snap! I have green tea but I'm guessing yours begins with hot and ends in chocolate."

You shot him a grin and took a sip of your chocolatey beverage. When you placed the mug back down Jungkook giggled.

"What?"

He gestured to the area above his upper lip, "Moustache."

You tilted your head in confusion. Moustache? What was he on about?

"Noona," he ducked his head, hand covering his mouth as he laughed. "You have a chocolate moustache. Wipe your mouth."

Oh…

You used the back of your hand to wipe your mouth, instinctively licking the chocolate from it.

Jungkook shook his head with an amused grin, "You really are a Kitten."

You poked your tongue out at him then shifted into a more comfortable position in your chair.

"Busy day?"

He wrinkled his nose. He could say you were a kitten all he liked, but he was definitely a bunny.

"A lot of meetings. A lot of talking."

"About the comeback?"

"Nope," He said, popping the P.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he ruffled his hair.

"Then why?"

"It's a surprise."

You couldn’t help the way your brows knitted together and your lips pressed into a firm line.

"Is this the same surprise you told me about or something different?"

His lips puckered in thought, "It's complicated."

Complicated? How could it be complicated?

"Noona... do you mind showing me your room?"

"Uuuuh... why?"

"You've seen my room. It's only fair."

You glanced over your shoulder and at your hastily made bed and the few items of clothing strewn over it. Eh, it could be worse.

"Um, okay."

Picking up your laptop with one hand and your mug in the other, got up from your seat.

"This is going to be a tad awkward since I have to use my laptop to show you around. And I have some boxes here and there."

"What's in the boxes?"

"Just stuff I won't be taking with me."

You placed your mug aside on your dresser and turned your laptop around so the camera faced outwards. Standing in the centre of the room, you slowly turned around on the spot to give Jungkook a full 360-degree tour.

"You've seen this wall in the background of our calls," you said pointing to the wall opposite your desk.

You heard what sounded like a notepad flipping open. Frowning, you continued to point out various items in your room from your merch collection to your single bed.

"Your bed is so small Noona."

"Well, I can't exactly afford bigger. And yours was the same size."

"Yeah, but you deserve bigger. I like my bed, less room means more reason to cuddle up."

He had a point; his bed was just the right size for cuddling. Which meant that yours was too. He laughed when you pointed it out to him.

"But I'm not there to cuddle you in it, Noona."

"Then come cuddle me," You mumbled earning a chuckle.

"If I could I would, Noona. Now, show me some more."

You quickly showed him the rest of your room before moving on to the rest of your small apartment. It was a stroke of luck that you even had a living room at all. Normally such cheap apartments didn't have one.

"Noona, I'm noticing a theme."

"A theme?" You paused in the doorway to your tiny kitchen.

"Ye, a lot of dark colours. I knew you liked dark clothing but didn't think your whole apartment would be mainly black, red and purple."

"Don't judge. They're my favourite colours."

He chuckled and you turned your laptop to face you. He was grinning, eyes smiling, as his chuckling continued but only slightly quieter.

"I don't laugh at you for your 24 white t-shirts. Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you Jagiya. It's just so adorable that you surround yourself with the colours you like."

"Surrounding myself with colours I don't like would make me miserable," You pointed out and walked back into the living room to take a seat on the sofa. "So that's basically it apart from my bathroom but you don't want to see that."

He seemed to write something down before looking at you with curious eyes, "Does your bathroom have a bathtub? I heard most English homes have a tub."

A longing sigh slipped past your lips.

"Sadly I don't. I've had nothing but showers for a year now."

He began writing again but you couldn't see what.

"What are you doing?"

His head snapped up. A pair of wide eyes peering back at you.

"Writing."

"It looks like you're taking notes."

He bit his lip, chewing on it slightly. In thought or out of nerves you didn't know.

"They say a person's home can tell you a lot about them. I wanna know Noona inside and out. I want to be a Noona Expert like Noona is a Kookie Expert."

You giggled, "Fair enough. Maybe one day I'll give you a quiz to see how much you've learnt about me."

He sat up a little straighter as if facing up to a challenge.

"And I'll pass with flying colours. Which reminds me..." He began to twiddle with the hem of his shirt, "Has Noona... has Noona ever had a boyfriend?"

Your smile dropped. You knew this day would come, it was better to tell him sooner rather than later.

"I've had a few... My longest relationship lasted two years. But that ended nearly two years ago now."

“Oh...well I guess you are older than me." He scratched the back of his neck. He hesitated as if wondering whether to continue on the subject.

"You can ask me questions, Kookie. I don't mind."

"Were they older than me?"

You nodded, "But they were all 97 liners like you. At first, I thought it was a curse that only younger guys liked me. Though I can't complain anymore now that I have you."

He smirked, seemingly proud of changing your mind.

"Golden Maknae powers."

You chuckled, "Don't get cocky. We've just started dating."

He sent you a wink, "You won't get rid of me. You're stuck with me."

"I've had a couple of guys say that before but obviously that wasn't true..."

"Those guys weren't me... why did your last relationship end?"

You hesitated before answering, wishing you had your hot chocolate with you.

"He... he cheated on me with a younger girl. His best friend's ex to be precise."

Jungkook tutted, "What a dick."

"Agreed."

"Cheaters are the ultimate assholes."

You couldn't help but be taken aback again by his swearing, laughing at his pissed off expression.

"Don't laugh, I'm being serious! What kind of asshole cheats on a Noona as smart and beautiful as you. A Noona so kind and caring she goes back to an abusive home every week to make sure her siblings are okay. He threw you away without a second thought and I hate it."

He ran a hand through his hair, not caring when it stood up on end in every direction.

"It was awful. But it was two years ago. You don't need to worry about me. I've got you now."

"Exactly. And you won't have to worry about me cheating or anything... I've been… having nightmares about you leaving me."

Your eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. He was worried about you leaving him?!

"You're having nightmares about me?!"

He palmed his face and when he looked back up you could see the lingering exhaustion on his features.

"About you leaving me, us being separated or someone forcing us apart... It keeps happening and it's driving me insane."

You remembered back to a couple of weeks ago when Jungkook had refused to go to sleep while you were visiting your family. So that was why.

"I've been having nightmares too. Not about you or anything like that. They're more stress-induced."

"Is it uni?"

You nodded, "Mainly. So I know how you feel."

He sighed, "What do we do? I feel like I've tried everything. Even worked out before bed to exhaust me into sleeping but they won't stop."

You felt sorry for the poor boy. Even when exhausted he couldn't find peace. The was no doubt in your mind that the distance wasn't helping.

"I wish I could help..."

Jungkook perked up like he had an idea.

"Actually you can help, Noona. I slept peacefully when you sang to me."

"Do you want me to sing to you again?"

He nodded, "I could do the same for you if you want. Chubs told me you would sometimes listen to my covers at night or when anxious."

Since when were those two so friendly?

"When did she tell you that?"

"When I was writing your songs. She said it was a good idea because you liked to fall asleep to my voice."

You smiled, "Once I was having a panic attack and listened to your covers to try and calm down. I ended up becoming so calm I fell asleep."

He awed, lips lifting into a smile and revealing his dimples. You felt your chest tighten at just how adorable he looked. The things you would do to be back in his company so you could kiss those adorable cheeks of his.

"So it's settled. I'll sing you to sleep if you sing me to sleep."

"Deal."

Jungkook clapped happily, a habit you had found yourself picking up, then leant forward and kissed his camera. He sat back with a frown.

"It's not the same as kissing Noona."

"Kookie, you asked me if I had any previous relationships... have you had any?"

He scratched the back of his neck, "A couple but none that lasted long."

"Were they, like, in school or..."

You were a little unsure how to approach the topic of dating within the Idol universe. You'd heard rumours, read articles seen theory videos of other artists involved in relationship scandals and the like. Dating bans within companies were a thing and as far as you were aware BigHit didn't impose those rules on BTS.

A nervous chuckle sounded from him, "I had one in middle school and the other was back in Busan around the time of I Need U..."

The fancam of Hoseok asking what was tasty in Busan and Jungkook whispering something to him flashed through your mind. You found your cheeks heating up.

"Needless to say it didn't work out. We parted mutually and that was that. I haven't spoken to them since. I couldn't even tell you if they were in the country anymore."

You nodded along, "At least it was mutual."

Jungkook shifted in his seat, "Yeah. There is one thing I want to ask you but it may be way too soon..."

You wondered what constituted as too soon. Marriage? Children? Meeting his parents?

"What is it?"

"Uh..." he dropped his gaze to his hands that once again picked at the hem of his t-shirt. "Since you were in a relationship for a while I was wondering if you...umm, you know...ever-"

"-had sex?"

His face turned beet red, even the tips of his ears.

"Y-yeah. That."

You giggled at his embarrassment.

"It is a little soon to ask but yeah… I ended up losing my virginity to him 2 weeks into the relationship. My friends had convinced me that the sooner you put out the longer the relationship lasts but clearly that wasn't true."

He gave a small chuckle, "That seems like really bad advice."

"Definitely was. I don't recommend it."

He hummed in agreement. "We've technically been dating for over two weeks anyway so..." He gave you a little cheeky smile before glancing back down at his lap.

Good thing you didn't have your drink with you otherwise you would've choked on it.

"We've been dating for over a month now. And as much as I love your thighs I don't think I will be putting out at all."

He shrugged, "That's fair. It wouldn't be fun unless Noona was entirely comfortable with it."

You opened your mouth to suggest changing the conversation topic when a thought came to mind.

"Since we're on the topic and you asked me...can I ask you the same question?"

He became a spluttering mess, hands coming up to hide his face which was once again turning red. An evil grin spread across your face.

"You haven't, have you? You're still a virgin."

More spluttering.

"You don't have to be so shy around me, Kookie. It's not like it matters."

He let out a long groan, sagging his shoulders and spreading his fingers to peer at you through them.

"It's embarrassing."

"And why's that?"

Finally, he uncovered his face to rest his hands on the table.

"Because I've done the other stuff just not full blown sex. And I see what people say. People think I'm not a virgin because of my looks or because of how well I grind on a floor!”

"And the hip thrusts." You added quietly.

He stopped to give you an unimpressed look. You muttered an apology and gestured for him to continue.

“It makes me self-conscious. I don't like it. Being on stage and doing all that stuff is a performance. I'm dancing. Doing the...actual do is different."

He had a point there.

"Does that mean the fans that treat you like a naive child make you more comfortable?"

He shook his head.

"It's annoying to be treated like a child at all because that's what I was when they met me. I know I say I have the mind of a minor but I didn't mean it that way."

"You want them to see you for who you are, not who they think you are based on the way you act on stage."

He hummed in agreement.

"I know it's hard because there's such a distance between ARMY and me, but I try to be as honest as I can when doing Vlives so they have a better idea of who I am."

He yawned and stretched causing you to look at the time. It was late. Really late. Shit.

"You should go to bed. We can start our deal now."

He tiredly nodded and stood up, interlocking his arms over his head and stretching again.

"I'll go change."

He tilted his own laptop screen slightly so you could only see a sliver of his room but what you could mainly see was a keyboard. While he was busy you got up and grabbed your hot chocolate, a pout forming when you realised it had gone cold. You could microwave it later, though.

You sat back down and waited for him to reappear. When he did you noticed the lights were off apart from a desk lamp. He was in a loose t-shirt and shorts that looked far more comfortable to sleep in than the shirt and jeans he was wearing previously.

He set the laptop down on the bed like last time and climbed between the sheets. He reached behind him and produced a little ginger cat that made your face light up.

"Honey!"

He nodded and nuzzled the plush toy.

"Noona, do you mind if I request a song?"

"I don't mind, BunBun."

"Could you sing 2U?"

You smiled and nodded, remembering back to the Spotify playlist he made you that had his own cover of the song.

"Close your eyes and dream about all the fun things we did on my last trip."

"Mhm, I love you." He mumbled before closing his eyes.

"I love you too," you said then cleared your throat and began to sing.

Good thing you didn't drink that much hot chocolate or your vocals would've been ruined. You watched as he drifted off to sleep, the day's stress fading off his features. His light snores caused you to smile gently.

A sneaky thought crossed your mind and you quickly took a screenshot of him sleeping before ending the call. You still couldn't quite believe that he had been hiding his nightmares from you. Admittedly, you had been too. But his were about you. Losing you, to be exact.

Jeon Jungkook was worried about losing you, the person that no one in the world seemed to want. And for once, you felt special.

#boop #tmaht #jungkook #jungkooknet #nochunetwork #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jeongkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan scenario

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thebibliomancer · 8 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #121: Houses Divided Cannot Stand!

March, 1974

Hey, Vision. Word of advice. Don’t try to go through the glowy energy field when there’s a perfectly good floor to float through.

Also, ‘Cannot Stand‘ should be in italics but I guess I can’t italicize a title.

Anyway. Last time: the Avengers encountered a partially new group of Zodiac. They got their collective asses kicked in a single page and then turned around and kicked Zodiac’s collective asses a little while later. They thwarted a mad scheme to kill off every Gemini in Manhattan with a Jumbo Star-Blazer. But because Mantis is so emphatic, she got star-blazed unconscious and teetering on the edge of the roof. If the Avengers don’t let Zodiac go, they’ll star-blaze her again - to her death.

This time: Vision says ‘eh go ahead then.’ She’s not an Avenger, she’s merely a hanger-on. Her life isn’t worth letting Zodiac escape.

Taurus claims that she’s a lot more than Vision says but it was all a ruse.

On Vision’s part, I mean.

While he was distracting Zodiac by being callous, Scarlet Witch was moving out of Zodiac’s line of sight so she could prepare one of her hexes.

And she destroys the Star-Bl- *ahem* Star-Slayer, apparently, with a FOOM!

Without the Star-Blazer-Slayer nothing is holding the Avengers at bay and they leap forward to fisticuffs some more.

It isn’t really worth it to go into specifics. The Avengers are stronger individually than Zodiac, who have vague powers, but the handheld Star-Blazer is strong enough to give even Thor pause. Oh and Virgo sneaks up on Scarlet Witch and WAM!s her in the head with a piece of scrap.

I guess Zodiac had the Avengers at a disadvantage but then Cap shows up to CLANG! them with his shield. He’s pretty dependable in that way.

Even if Cap’s accused of crime, he’ll always show up at the nick of time.

Anyway, with Cap here, the odds are much better

But then Aries decides to take matters into his own hands. And by matters I mean Mantis and by own hands I mean he throws her off the roof.

Without hesitation, Vision jumps off the roof after her and manages to reach her only twenty floors above imminent splat. Since he can’t fly while carrying a full grown person (his flight is based on reducing his density to be lighter than air) and since catching her after landing would have destroyed her skeleton bones (she doesn’t have Hawkeye’s amazing skeleton after all), he has to get creative.

And very much collateral damagey.

He jams his hand into the side of the building and lets the drag from that slow their fall.

And they still hit hard.

But also, the damage threatens to have the whole building fall down. Which is slightly awkward when you remember its the World Trade Center.

There’s no choice but for the Avengers to abandon the battle and save the building. Zodiac, of course, takes the opportunity to skedaddle, although its clear there’s some discontent against Taurus for his plan failing.

So Thor holds up the building while Iron Man uses heat blasts to... weld? Can you weld concrete? Well anyway, he patches up the cracks.

Once again, the Avengers have saved New York from the damage that they inflicted to New York.

Scarlet Witch has been checking on Mantis. She seems okay, if shaken, but Mantis claims she has slight injuries to her internal organs from the shock of the landing but she will rest and recover.

And then she just puts herself in a healing trance. She may be a Jedi. Or perhaps a Kryptonian.

The Avengers decide to take her back to the mansion to have her examined. And Cap runs off to go clear his name. The Avengers can’t help him, not unless they want to end up sharing a cell with him so they haven’t seen him -wink-.

Back at the mansion, Swordsman is alarmed that Mantis has been hurt.

Iron Man tells him not to worry. Heck, Swordsman is in worse shape, with his infected wound. They even had the Avengers’ personal physician, Donald ‘Not Thor’ Blake check her and all she needs is rest.

But then Blake and Iron Man take a little walk and have a secret conversation. Because they are the two Avengers who know each others’ secret IDs, giving them a special, unique bond that lasts probably until Tony made a clone of Thor, which is a big friendship-ending no-no.

But basically, Donald Blake has never seen anything like Mantis. She’s already improved from how she was right after the battle. It’s like she’s curing herself.

Its a mystery. And they have some downtime so why not investigate a little? Iron Man asks Swordsman if there’s anything he can share about Mantis’ backstory.

But the simple truth is Swordsman knows little more than the Avengers. He met her when he was working in the South Vietnamese black market for a man called Monsieur Khruul.

As has been established, by this point, Swordsman had hit real rock bottom. This was sleazy work. And to cope, he had started drinking.

He met Mantis in a waterfront dive and she took an interest in him. Tried to talk him into rehabilitating himself. But Monsieur Khruul sent him on ‘one last job’ to raid a rival’s warehouses.

It didn’t go as planned.

Mantis found him hours later, lying smeared with mud and blood and lice. And hey he had managed to mine a tunnel through rock bottom to find a new bottom.

She took him to her apartment and nursed him back to health for days, even going without food so that he could eat.

And that whole time he was so wrapped up in his own wasted life that he never asked her about herself. Which, in hindsight, he regrets and wants to make it up to her. He wants to go after Zodiac with the rest of the Avengers.

But Black Panther pops in and tells Swordsman that he’s in no shape to travel.

Yup, he’s temporarily back from Wakanda. He was making a special set of wings for Falcon and decided to stop in. So he’ll be joining in on this mission.

Before they go, Vision has a weird conversation with Swordsman apparently fraught with sub-text.

Vision: This is quite a woman, Swordsman. Even in pain, her control of mind and body approach perfection.

Swordsman: Why... yes, Vision. I know.

Vision: I am aware that you do. Goodbye.

Swordsman: What -- did he mean by that? Could he -- No!

I don’t really get it.

Anyway, Zodiac! There’s some unrest in the house of Zodiacs. With Taurus’ plan a bust, Aries yells that he should lead Zodiac.

And then like goats, they decide to headbutt for dominance. These comics... Couldn’t make it up if I tried.

Aries comes off the worst and calls for a time-out but Taurus butts him again. And yells that the house of Taurus rules this Zodiac.

Aries seems to concede but thirty minutes later, he has gathered a bunch of the Zodiac to talk coup.

Gemini, Virgo, and Capricorn were not invited to the sedition. Gemini because he owes Taurus for busting him out of jail and Virgo and Capricorn are Earth signs like Taurus is so they’ll probably side with him.

BECAUSE.

Geez, Zodiac takes their theme so seriously, they even import in some cliques.

These guys are a bunch of crimelords that have formed one giant cartel that they patterned after Zodiac because they’ll rule humanity just like the stars do, or something. But then they got super into their roleplaying and formed cliques based on the signs. Not to mention, this is a team comprised of a bunch of top dogs. No wonder they never play well with each other.

Anyway, the water signs Pisces, Cancer, and Scorpio throw their lot in with Aries. As does Sagittarius, Leo, and Aquarius. But the air signs are divided right down the middle. Gemini will probably side with Taurus, Aquarius is siding with Aries, and Libra?

Libra represents balance so he’ll be sitting this one out. The other houses kind of expect this kind of neutrality from him by this point so they don’t even mind. But Cancer does warn him to maintain his neutrality and not swing his weight to Taurus’ side.

Now there’s just one more aspect to Aries’ revolution.

And a phone rings in the secret headquarters of...

Cornelius Van Lunt?? The asshole who bankrupted the Avengers to force them to act as his muscle and then was trying to force Red Wolf’s Cheyenne tribe off their land. And then he seemingly died when the dam he built ruptured.

But I guess he survived because here he is. But he’s been hiding out because the Avengers exposed his criminal activities.

Anyway, Aries wants to meet with him. Van Lunt arranges a meeting for the following dawn at one of his New Jersey warehouses.

Just before that dawn, Thor happens to spot the Zodiac Star-Craft on their way to that meeting while searching over Manhattan. After they land, Thor uses a signal device in his belt to contact the Avengers.

Dang. It looked like an Asgardian belt but the buckle flips open and there’s science inside. Guess it makes sense when Tony Stark is Best Mortal Friend Forever.

The Avengers arrive and just... peep in the window. Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, everyone.

Inside the revolting Zodiac try to rope Van Lunt in on their schemes. See, Van Lunt is apparently the financier of Zodiac so they need his money to obtain a deadlier arsenal to combat Taurus’ Star-Slay-Blazers.

But from their peeping spot, the Avengers see that Zodiac is completely preoccupied talking and instead of trying to gather information, the Avengers just OH YEAH! right through the window and start lariating people.

This is why the Avengers need Black Widow. She knows how to spell subtlety.

While the Avengers are punching Zodiacs in the face, Van Lunt sneaks out the back.

Nobody misses him. They’re too busy fighting.

Like Leo tries to wang Vision in the head with a wrench but it just breaks off his diamond hard cranium and makes him very unhappy.

But all of a sudden, steel plates slam shut over the windows and doors.

Iron Man demands to know what the deal is but Aries doesn’t know.

And he doesn’t. Because as Van Lunt broadcasts in on a screen to tell them - this trap was set up by him to deal with the rebelling houses of Zodiac. The fact that the Avengers got caught up in it was a nice bonus.

Aries wants to know what Taurus offered to make Van Lunt double-cross them but Aries just doesn’t get it. Zodiac thinks that Van Lunt is a backup player because he’s just a money man and doesn’t wear a costume.

WELL GUESS WHAT, SOMETIMES HE DOES.

And no, its probably not a sex thing. Because he pulls out Taurus’ mask from off-camera and puts it on. Revealing that Van Lunt has been Taurus all along.

He feels pretty okay with revealing that bombshell plot twist though. Because neither the renegade Zodiacs nor the Avengers will be able to profit from the revelation. Because he’s going to launch them into space.

See, the warehouse was secretly a rooooooocket shiiiiiiiiiiiip

and it blasts off with a BAROOM!

Van Lunt stole my idea for how to get rid of people! That jerk!

Hey, why not follow @essential-avengers? I’m cleaning up the old Essential Avengers posts, adding some more images, and reblogging them there.

#Avengers #Zodiac #Taurus of Zodiac #Mantis #Swordsman #Van Lunt #launching all your problems into space #crimelords get super into their roleplay #Mantis has a mysterious backstory #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging

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brightlyburning1 · 8 years ago

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the gentleness that comes (2/?)

Percival Graves, retired dominant sex surrogate, is drawn back into the world of surrogacy as a favor to Newt Scamander. Newt's patient, one Credence Barebone, is recovering from his sheltered and abusive upbringing - after nearly burning down half the town in his escape. As Percival helps guide Credence through discovering his submissive side, he finds himself falling for the younger man - but those feelings must be hidden, lest he betray everything his profession stands for.

Here is chapter two! Or, if you prefer, you can read it on AO3, here .

"Percival!" Newt calls from the window of his battered Mini Cooper, waving, as though Percival doesn't possess ears to hear. Newt's auburn hair is as riotous as ever - unlike Theseus, who had kept his hair military-short until it fell out, and then there was no reason to care.

'Stop. Stop thinking about that.'

Percival hefts his briefcase, jogs down the steps, and crams himself into the passenger seat of the Mini, dislodging a stuffed iguana with a nametag proclaiming it 'Pickett.'

"Afternoon, Newt," he starts to say, only for thick drool to land on the shoulder of his gray Henley. Fuck, he quite likes this shirt.

"Afternoon, don't mind Dougal-" Newt steers the Mini, which is putting up an alarming racket, out into traffic and eastbound.

"Newt," Percival says, fishing a wet wipe out of his briefcase and scrubbing at the stain, "you have met Dougal, yes? He's not the sort of creature one 'doesn't mind.'"

The Irish wolfhound in question groans into Percival's ear from the backseat as Percival reaches back to scratch behind his ears, knuckles brushing the stiff red vest proclaiming him a therapy animal.

"Did you see the NDA?" Newt merges at unreasonable speed, one-handed, the other hand occupied with a mug of tea.

"It's intense." Which is a low-key word, all things considered; the NDA had been nearly half an inch thick. "How dangerous is he?"

"Who, Credence? Not at all."

Percival raises an eyebrow. The footage had blared across the country: flames consuming the Second Salem compound in the dead of night; Mary Lou Barebone, in a nightgown from her wrists to her ankles, trying to turn away the fire department; Mary Lou threatening them with God's vengeance and Grindelwald’s, her new spouse, and considering the rumors of his wealth and power, Grindelwald's vengeance may well have been worse; coughing children, malnourished and flinching, stumbling into the floodlights; a small girl, eyes wild and rolling in a soot-stained face, writhing in the firefighters' grips and howling for Credence, Credence, Credence.

At last, out of the roiling clouds of smoke, a firefighter, stumbling, her arms cradling thin limbs that stank of gasoline, a slack and blue-tinged face. The firefighter falling. The girl, Modesty Barebone, breaking free, running to shelter in the shadow of Credence's body beneath the flames.

"You're saying this about a man who nearly set the National Forest on fire." Though, to be fair, Percival would probably have done the same, had he grown up among the Second Salemites: rigid, unyielding, utterly joyless and practical in the worst sort of way.

"Yes." Newt takes an off-ramp down into a quiet residential neighborhood, the Mini Cooper jolting when it leaves the ramp. "But there is a great difference between a man who does terrible things to escape and one who does them to harm."

"I'm aware, Newt. My cop training hasn't left me yet." To say nothing of Theseus, who had spent a good three week stretch emotionally savaging everyone around him, trying to escape their attention and affection, trying to spare them the loss.

Newt grins in the corner of Percival's gaze and drains the tea. "Apologies." A stoplight; the Mini Cooper, idling. Newt turns to stare Percival full in the face, and that in itself is so rare as to have Percival's full attention. "Credence had no homicidal intent or thoughts of violence."

"Then why burn it down? My contacts in the department weren't willing to share much." Not that they, technically, are ever supposed to share the details of an ongoing investigation, but this level of secrecy is unusual.

Newt turns, gray-blue gaze sliding away from Percival, and accelerates. "Credence and the children at this Second Salem compound fell through every crack in every system: Department of Children and Families, the police, the schools, the hospitals. DCF’s foster system was overloaded, so someone like Mary Lou, willing to take in as many as they gave, seemed a godsend, and she sailed through the approval process. Add in waivers for medical care due to personal beliefs, waivers for public education due to religious beliefs, the fact that the congregation moved whenever the law became too involved, the fear of crossing Grindelwald-"

Gellert Grindelwald, the city's wealthiest property developer, half the buildings they pass by built by or owned by him. Makes sense, in this small city, not to cross such a man - Percival met him at a gala honoring the police force, and even at that first meeting felt queasy in his presence.

"At various points over the past nineteen years," Newt turns the car towards Kowalski's Bakery, "the children's social workers were called out to do wellness checks. Citizens concerned by how Mary Lou used the kids for canvassing called the police. Credence, himself, at one point after he presented as a sub, called the police. Just like every time the authorities checked on Second Salem, Mary Lou steered the conversation, placated the fears, and got them back off the property. Then she went after Credence with a whip."

God. Nineteen years of waiting for help to come, of dreaming of escape, only to see it slip through your fingers every time. No wonder the young man struggles with trust, if all he's received from authority figures is suffering or ignorance; no wonder he apparently yearns for someone to help him feel safe.

"Was Mary Lou's animosity towards him purely based on his submissive status?"

"No, though it intensified after he presented, and when his sister Modesty presented as a dominant, Credence had to get attention from the authorities before Modesty also came in for abuse." Newt swallows visibly, eyes bleak, and Dougal lays his mournful head on Newt's shoulder. "Or before Modesty was sent off to some other Second Salem congregation to be separated from her brother's 'foul perversions.' Time was short. Help was short. He made the best choice he could, given what he knew."

A choice that landed Credence in jail while they processed the crime scene, the children scattered to various therapeutic foster homes, and now has him waiting to be called up as a witness in the ongoing criminal trials of Grindelwald and Mary Lou.

"So once they released him from jail, that's when you met him?"

Newt parks in front of Kowalski's bakery, unbuckles himself, and fishes in the piles in the backseat for his satchel. "Yeah; seems like poor recompense for nineteen years of suffering due to willful blindness, but DCF is paying for all of his and the other witnesses' treatment and reintegration into society. Tina knows one of the children's new caseworkers, and since Tina likes to talk up her sub-" he ducks his head, grinning, a flush staining his cheeks and traveling down his neck, beneath the thin blue leather collar, "-I wound up a consultant."

It takes a moment for them to all extricate themselves from the backseat, but eventually Percival and Newt and Dougal are all free on the sidewalk before Kowalski's, Newt completely ignorant of the black fur covering nearly every inch of his corduroys.

"And since Credence said he wanted to explore his sexuality, I got in touch with Seraphina, and-" Newt gestures at their surroundings, "-we're here."

"Anything I should know?" Percival follows Newt into the building and up the staircase. Dougal's tail whacking into his knees as they climb.

"Not that you would, but don't treat him like he's stupid or a child; he's quite clever, really, just sheltered. He probably won't offer a handshake, so you're better off waiting to see if he initiates. Other than that, can't think of much for a first meeting."

Newt stops before the door above Kowalski's - a deep green, the paint peeling about the edges - and knocks, three fast raps.

A shadow moves behind the peephole, and Percival squares his shoulders, settling into his skin again, projecting calm confidence. The click of locks, and he looks Credence Barebone full in the face.

He's practiced at hiding his initial reactions to clients - he's had to be, when he's worked with clients who are quadriplegic, dying, all types of bodies and abilities - but even then he has to swallow down the rumble building in his chest.

Credence Barebone is exquisite, there's no other word for it - and Percival is lucky to have him first, to teach him what he needs to know to be safe, because he will have suitors aplenty. Feline eyes, near-liquid in their darkness, that flicker over him and Newt and Dougal, then drop in silent submission, eyelashes the color of soot falling upon knife-sharp cheekbones, their paleness begging for a thumb's caress. The cut of his black hair does him no favors, but given time and patience, those thick strands could be made beautiful. The breadth of his shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist where one's hand could rest-

"Hello, Newt, Dougal," Credence says, his voice low, hoarse, as if he rarely speaks. "And you-?" His gaze flicks up to Percival, who offers a faint smile.

"Percival Graves, the surrogate partner." He doesn't offer a hand, and Credence makes no attempt. "Pleasure."

"Oh-" it's more an indrawn breath than a word, and Credence seems to hunch into himself, as if to hide, but his gaze looks Percival over from feet to head, the barest hint of a flush stealing across his cheeks. Anxious, no doubt, but not frightened - Percival can work with that.

Credence steps back for the three visitors to enter the apartment. It's Spartan, to say the least, but not surprising; he likely never had much, and what furniture he has must have been provided by DCF or the police department. The couch Credence gestures for them to sit on is an unflattering shade of beige, and Credence perches at the edge of a rickety kitchen chair. He clasps his hands together, a subtle tremor drawing Percival's attention to the faint red of a scar tracing over the side of one palm.

"Shall we go ahead and get started? I've explained some of what Credence can expect from me in our relationship, but I'm sure there's still some questions he might have." Newt unclips Dougal's leash and busies himself removing paperwork from his satchel.

Percival holds Credence's gaze, searching for signs of panic or confusion. "So, you've met Newt. He's the therapist, and I'm the licensed dominant surrogate partner. Together with you, we form what's called the therapeutic triangle; what that means is that we all agree when to move forward in treatment, when to end therapy - unless you decide to end the contract - and how to help you achieve your goals. First and foremost, your safety and confidentiality is paramount; nothing will be shared outside the therapeutic triangle, and nothing occurs without your permission."

A muscle flickers in Credence's jaw, and Dougal pads over to shove his head between Credence's hands, breaking apart the anxious twist of fingers. Another glimpse, then, of terrible scars, hidden quickly in Dougal's dark fur, and Percival's chest aches with pity.

"How long will it take?" Credence's gaze flickers to Newt, who's looking through notes. "For me to meet my goals?" His fingers dig into Dougal's fur, thumbs stroking over the dog's ears.

Newt waves for Percival to keep going, so he does. "It's different for each client, but the standard is that the client meets with the therapist for one or two hours a week and the surrogate for one or two hours a week, separately. Most clients I've worked with have felt able to end the relationship and try dating after about thirty weeks."

"Speaking of which!" Newt flips to a sheet in Credence's file, his spidery handwriting spilling over the page. "Have your goals remained the same? Not feeling afraid of your orientation, being able to communicate needs and boundaries, being able to submit?"

"Yes, please," Credence says, his voice near-trembling, Dougal patient as his fingers twine into his fur.

That soft 'please,' those eyes flickering shy glances at Percival's hands, his briefcase - this young man will make some dominant proud one day.

They schedule the sessions, and Newt takes over for a bit, discussing Credence's progress with mindfulness practices, meditation: the standard routine for someone beginning surrogate therapy.

"Here's the contract attesting to the boundaries I have." Percival draws it from his briefcase and hands it over along with a pen. "There's my work phone number; if while you're working on an assignment for Newt or myself, you have questions or concerns, you can text me there. You have a phone?"

"Yes," Credence says, his lips almost shaping the 'sir.' Oh, he's a sweet young man, so obviously in need, so easily hurt; thank God for Newt and Tina, who recognized his vulnerability and connected him to people who would not use it against him.

"The rest is standard; you won't see me outside of our scheduled sessions, and once our therapeutic relationship is over, you won't try to seek me out further, as my job is not only to model the beginning and middle of a good relationship, but also its ending."

Credence reads the contract slowly, mouthing the words to himself, a furrow setting in his brow that Percival could smooth away with a thumb, a kiss. He nods as he finishes, then signs at the bottom, passing it back to Percival. Their fingers brush, and Credence swallows, a faint tremor shaking him.

"Now, as this is mostly about introductions and paperwork, our time is almost up." Newt breaks the sudden connection, stuffing papers back into his satchel. "Percival, you have an assignment for him, correct?"

Percival turns and pulls the last things out from his briefcase: two dice and a thin black leather band. He places them on the coffee table, amused and affectionate when Credence's attention goes to the simple cuff, naked need passing across his face.

"This one is simple. At some point before I see you next, I want you to spend half an hour or so with the dice and the cuff. You don't have to put the cuff on if you are uncomfortable; simply have it near you. One die lists sensations, such as scratching, tapping, et cetera. The other lists body parts. I want you to use the dice and explore how you react to the sensations you give yourself: what you enjoy and what you don't. Please write down any strong reactions. Additionally, I want you to write down the thoughts that come into your mind when you look at the cuff or wear it, if you feel ready for that. Understood?"

Credence nods. "All right. Thank you."

"No need," Percival says, standing. They make their goodbyes, Credence again offering no handshake, and he and Newt and Dougal leave the apartment.

Driving away, he looks into the rear view mirror, and spots a pale face in the window above Kowalski's, two dark feline eyes, and in Credence's hands, a thin black leather band.

#gradence #credence/graves #percival graves/credence barebone #gravebone

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textsfromwatchpointgibraltar · 8 years ago

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I have... a lot of word docs open so who wants to see a little bit from each thing! yeah! Also u guys should tell me what u think....

Darkness Falls chapter 2 (Serial Killer Zen):

It did not take long for Zenyatta to realize why the Iris had called him back. He could hear its call all around him, not speaking to him but to everyone, trying to reach out to Genji but with no avail. It was evident that the cyborg hadn’t connected to the Iris at all.

“Well?” Zenyatta lifted his head, watching Genji carefully. He had, after several minutes pulled out one of his throwing stars again, flipping it between his fingers as he watched Zenyatta. Zenyatta watched him, slightly mesmerised. “You’re one of the brothers here, right? Aren’t you going to try and convince me to give into the Iris, to accept what I’ve become?”

There was bite, bitterness in his voice, and Zenyatta momentarily wondered how many of his fellows Mondatta had sent in to try and ‘help’ Genji.

Unnamed Depressed Hanzo fic:

They peep and chirp like baby birds, cling to his fingers when Hanzo holds them out over their heads. Their iridescent blue scales shimmer as small talons reach for him, and Hanzo crouches down, staring at them eye to eye. He doesn’t move until the nanny enters, an hour later, Genji in her arms.

Then, it is only to take Genji from the nanny and hold him in his lap, the pair of them staring at the pair of dragons. Genji coos at them, repeating the newly learned word for cucumber, Kyūri, as Hanzo gently holds his tiny hand out to touch the dragons. He giggles once he touches them, kicks his legs out in joy, and before long the two of them are rolling on the floor, playfully wrestling as the dragons watch.

It’s the happiest Hanzo’s been in days.

Unnamed LifeHacks fic:

“I have another question too—when I use my translocator, the feedback plate hooks into the uppermost implant, but I always feel…sick after I use it. I thought at first it was because I’d messed up when I stole the plans from the gorilla, but he repaired the issues with mine and it’s still happening.”

“It’s with your things, right? I just want to see how it sits on your back…” Sombra sat up as Ziegler left the room, listening to her rummage for her translocator in the pile of clothing she’d left in the changing cubby. “Here—put it on, please.”

Sombra kept her back to the doctor, feeling a chill rush over her bare skins, and swiftly clicked the translocator into place.

Then Ziegler swore.

“You said Winston looked at it?” she confirmed once she was finished spitting fire, and Sombra nodded slowly. “Well, he’ll have to do a few more adjustments. It doesn’t line up exactly with your top implant—there’s about two or three inches that don’t connect to it. You are extremely lucky that this hasn’t killed you.”

Sake, Bourbon, and Other Spirits chapter 2 (ghost AU):

“Some air should help clear your head too, Mei. It’s got to be a bit of a shock…” Ana sighed as they headed towards the living quarters, mapping out the fastest way to Mei’s room in her head. “I’m sure once I wind down, it’ll…it’ll hit me.”

In all truthfulness, it already was. She remembered Gerard’s funeral, the tears and speeches, the fight between Gabriel and Jack over who should take the blame for not realizing that Amelie was a sleeper agent… Ana shuddered, unconsciously pulling Mei closer.

“Ana, are you okay?” she looked down to where Mei was looking at her with sad eyes. “I—I’m sure Gerard wouldn’t want you to be sad, same with Jack and Gabriel.”

Something in Ana’s gut clenched at the mention of Gabriel, how he tried his best to shoot her in Egypt, but she doesn’t mention it to Mei. There was no need to worry her even more.

Unnamed Family Apocolypse AU:

The end of the world, in Jack’s mind, wasn’t the most exciting deal. A lifetime of trashy Hollywood movies had his mind awash with mutants and aliens and earthquakes and the earth literally splitting itself apart. In reality, it consisted more of him and Gabriel gathering up the kids and the cat, jumping into the car—which died about 30 miles out of town— and getting out of dodge once things got a little too hairy.

“We ain’t gonna die, are we, dad?” Jesse asked, the 15-year-old sounding miserable behind his mask as they climbed onto yet another hill, nothing but dust and dirt and empty skies ahead of them. Slightly behind them, Gabriel was helping Sombra onto his back, trying to balance the 13-year-old, the cat, and a backpack.

“Course not. We’ll be fine, right Gabe?” Jack replied, trying to keep any small bits of panic out of his speech. It really wouldn’t do to worry them, even as Jack looked at the scribbled map once again.

His grandfather had been a paranoid man, paranoid enough to have created a bunker in the middle of nowhere, and for once Jack was glad that he’d somehow been his favourite of the grandchildren, despite his old world views of Jack’s relationship and job.

The Boy In Shadow (My Original Project):

“Detective Cain? Call’s come in.”

Harold Cain looked up from his paperwork, a depressing batch of numbers and words that told him the city was getting worse and worse as the year progressed, and sighed. Another murder to add to the statistics, another unsolved mystery.

“Right, I’ll be right down.” After a moment, spent putting the papers back into a semi-organized pile, he looked up at the officer who was still standing in the door way. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, well…” the officer seemed to deflate. “It’s just, well, gosh I don’t think you’re going to like this case much, sir.”

Harold gave the young man a deadpan look. “Carson, I very rarely head up homicide cases that I do like. I very much doubt anyone working here likes a homicide case. But I will take that into consideration.”

Unnamed D.Va and 76 are friends fic:

The map was Korea, cities placed at every instance where they were in the real world, although Jack faintly remembered Busan having to be moved a few kilometres inland after one of the last attacks. There where no build or buy options, no way to make more units than the 6 he appeared to have pre-made, and there was just one goal.

Survive the attack.

“Each unit is a 6 person MEKA squad. We also have one or two extra training squads, because our rate of turn over is so high, but that wasn’t programmed in.” The fact that she could talk about how many of her fellow soldiers had already, and would, die from the omnic was almost chilling. But she was young, and humour had always helped him cope, so there was no way to say if it was the same for her. “The omnic attacks at the end of 10 turns, and can’t be killed yet, only driven away.”

“Is there anyway to kill it, or is driving it away the only option?” Jack asked, and D.Va shook her head.

Unnamed Sombra is 18 and also Alejandra and looks at 76 like a father figure fic:

Huh. Gangs, gangs Jack could deal with. Quick smash and grabs in Talon warehouses and UN controlled Watchpoints, those weren’t anything new or particularly hard anymore. But Vishkar was a different kind of evil. They hid behind shiny metals, bureaucracy, lawyers, and occasionally strike teams.

“I can think of two people you should have contacted instead of me,” he finally said, and Sombra huffed as she waved her hands in the air.

“Lucio is too…good. He’d see me or my symbol and try to bring the whole gang down on my head. And the Vishkar runaway…Vaswani doesn’t trust easily, and there’s no way she’d trust me. Besides, you already saved me once, so why not save me again?” she’d moved a little closer as she spoke, and it took a moment, but Jack was able to figure out the other emotion playing out across Sombra’s face.

“You’re nervous.”

Unnamed Mei/76 fic:

“Why?” she asked, ready to hear a critique on her fighting skills, which she already knew were sub-par, or her physique, something that at least 3 people had already commented on. “I have just the right to be here as you do!”

D.Va muttered under her breath, shifting in her sleep, and 76 looked at the sleeping teenager before shaking his head.

“That’s not what I mean, Doctor. I should clarify—you shouldn’t be on this field. Winston should have picked someone else to go on this mission. It can’t be good for your nerves.”

Doctor. Doc-tor. Not a single person since arriving in Gibraltar called her Doctor, except Athena and rarely Winston. But 76…knew?

Mei shook her head, confused. “I never told you I had a doctorate…did I?” she asked, suddenly feeling very, very tired.

Familial (Pregnant Ana fic):

“If you go and get anyone about this, I’m going to kill you, Wilhelm.” She said, eyes closed and taking deep breaths.

She could hear the large man dithering behind her, before a loud clanking let her know that he’d crouched down behind her. “Ana, if you are injured at all, I should—“

Well, it wasn’t exactly how she was planning on telling him, or any of the rest of her squad-mates, but…

“I’m not injured, I’m just pregnant, Reinhardt.”

With a sigh, she turned against the wall so she could face the larger German man, and almost laughed at how devastated he seemed to look. “Don’t worry, Jack and Gabriel already know. That’s why they’ve been so insufferable about me keeping off the front lines lately.”

Flowers for Assholes (McHanzo flowershop AU):

It was a great night, in Jesse McCree’s opinion.

The day had started out decently enough—Amelie’d stayed over, but Lena cooked breakfast for the three of them before she had to run to work, and Amelie had been almost pleasant to talk to before she too left the apartment for her job.

That left him with way too much time on his hands, and after making sure Ganymede was fed and Bastion was fully charged and not going to run over anything the roomba’d get caught on, he dressed and made his way out of the house.

Firefish (Mermaid AU):

When Hana woke, she still felt shitty but better than before. There was also something tied around her middle, tugging at her body. Looking down, she realized it was a tether of sorts, a light blue rope that connected her to a piece of the reef her and Satya were sitting at.

“Uh…S-Satya?” Hana coughed a little, clearing her throat of something and nothing at all, and the other mermaid looked up to her. “What’s this?”

“Ah. You started to drift away as you slept, and rather than lose sight of you, I tied you down so you wouldn’t float away. It is safer than letting ourselves sleep and drift from each other.” Satya replied, waving with her hand and turning the rope into blue pixels of light. “I have our course plotted—we should arrive off the coast of Antarctica here—“

Hana swam down to Satya, watching in awe as her fingers pointed out exactly where they needed to go, as well as their speed needed to get there.

Unnamed Resident Evil 2/Overwatch AU:

Gabriel Reyes was running late, something that was beyond annoying to him. He was never late, never! Hell, he’d even set his clocks five minutes late just so he’d leave on time.

But the drive from LA to Raccoon City—some small but growing city in the Midwest— was long, and there’d been a huge crash on the freeway right as he started out of the city limits. Ergo, Gabriel was going to be late.

“Goddamnit—“ he hissed to himself as he raced down the empty highway, the sky starting to turn black-blue as night approached. He was being transferred to help deal with the “disaster” in Raccoon, as his boss had called it. Attacks being called the Cannibal Murders outside of the city, an entire special forces sector of the police detachment claiming it was all because of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, reports of entire city blocks being quarantined and barricaded…

#Not Texts #LeechPosts #Leechy Writes #I HAVE...A LOT OF WIPS #Dragon AU isn't on here b/c I don't have anything new for it yet

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youarejesting · 5 years ago

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BTS 365 Prompts

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════

February 5th - 11th

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Kim Seokjin: Duck

“Can I come in?” Jin asked his voice seemed adenoidal as he shuffled back and forth his coat was too big seemingly impossible to lower his arms to his sides properly. He sniffed his breath visible in the cold air like a dragon. “Ya, can I come in?”

A head popped out of the window, looking down at your friend rolling your eyes “hold up I am cleaning up?” Throwing something’s around hiding all the embarrassing things stored in the small space. Shaking out the blanket you found in the cupboard and laying it out on the floor.“Okay you can come up…”

“Oh! make sure to-” A loud thump and a groan Jin crawled into the tree house clutching his head. “Duck”

You really liked him the words dying on your lips as he whined, it took a bit of reassurance that his face looked good before he settled. Not two seconds unattended and he found your diary, confessing you had fallen in love with a handsome guy from class.

Min Yoongi: Work Naked

Yoongi sat in the Genius Lab, he had stepped out of the and had to record, so here he sat in a towel. Well he was in a towel until the damp fabric became rather annoying and he threw it over the back of the chair. He sat for over an hour and a half working headphones on mixing the sounds and scribbling lyrics. Checking his phone he had an hour before they had a tv appearance.

Now being the BTS manager was a difficult job, you wouldn’t deny it. There was just something about when you did your job well. When they through you those smiles at the end of the day, performance or shoot. It was so rewarding to be apart of it all. You arrived early wanting to keep them humble, you wouldn’t have BTS be called late or Diva’s.

Everyone was washed and dressed ready to head to set for hair and makeup, except the resident snail min. Throwing the door open to the studio, he looked at you like a teenage boy caught doing something naughty, hunching over. The boys in the living room heard a very impressive falsetto “Why are you naked!”

Jung Hoseok: Card

“y/n, I heard you were transferring schools” he caught you before you left the school grounds, you were classmates and had worked on a small number of group projects together. He was everyone’s friend so you didn’t expect him to approach you nor give you such a meaningful goodbye card. You added each other on social media and though you saw everything that happened in his life neither of you reached out to one another.

Ten years seemed like forever, you were dressed up outside the old school gymnasium the reunion was all anyone could talk about. Wasting no time you went inside and started mingling when were tripped by one of the popular girls from school. You fell your purse upending and your phone lipstick, the invitation and the little card spilled out.

“Let me help you?” His voice was just as you remembered but slightly deepened from the childlike sound into a beautiful young man’s tenor. He stopped his hand on the card and he smiled “y/n? You look so different but it is you, I remember those pretty eyes”

Kim Namjoon: Rich

Namjoon had money, he had fame he had everything but someone to share it with. He was surfing the internet when he saw a video on Instagram about a sugar-baby. They were cute very androgynous features and a sweet and innocent image. He sent a message and was surprised when he received a message back, within the hour they were meeting for coffee. He sat with them awkwardly and with a few probing questions he was opening himself like a book.

You were so understanding and the two of you started hanging out he would buy you so many things, he listened to your interests and spoiled you and you gave him attention. Your one rule was kissing and heavy petting only. One night however things were getting heated and you were lost in the emotions he made you feel loved for the first time in a long time.

Until the next morning, you woke up beside a note saying he had to leave for work early and a pile of money on the pillow. You felt your heart break as you left it untouched packed up all your things and left.

Park Jimin: Toothache

“Doctor Park, your next patient miss y/n is ready when you are” The receptionist Kim Taehyung smiled leading you into the room and getting you ready on the chair. The Dentist Mister Park rolled over on his little wheelie stool and shook your hand. He asked you about the problem and gave you a disarming smile while you explained. He told you he had to remove your last wisdom tooth as you had all expected and accounted for with the appointment. The anesthetist Kim Seokjin was your regular specialist he gave you the anesthetic and they covered your eyes as you were supposed to fall asleep.

Doctor Kim was your specialist doctor as you had a rare ability known as anesthesia awareness where you were conscious but you could never feel the pain. He knew how to read your charts and very small hints to how your body and mind were coping, so he knew if you at any point started to feel anything. The Dentist and the assistant started talking about how pretty you were and you heard Seokjin laughing from the top of the bed. He told them at the end of the procedure right before they were suppose to wake you up to explain your condition and that you heard and would remember everything they had said.

Kim Taehyung: Submarine @adorechim

Kim Taehyung sat in the control room he was in charge of visuals in the navigation team, two of his partners included, Johnny on his right, who was watching both the biological and mechanical radar, looking out for any big sea life or enemy subs. On his left was a young man named Mark who was watching an echolocation meter which sent out frequencies and gave him numbers that told him the distance of absolutely everything surrounding the ship.

He had a hands free pair of goggles that played images from around the ship, he had a clicker that could switch cameras around the ship if needed. He was lucky he didn’t look at spinning green radars or flickering numbers. He saw the depths of the ocean which were beautiful but as much as he was better off he was also worse off. Sometimes he saw absolutely horrifying footage.

They were stopped for the evening everyone was finishing their checks and switching over, when he saw something that made his heart race. He saw something that looked almost human.

He froze shaking as he saw a hand grab the camera and turn it. He shut his eyes and felt himself being shaken and he ripped off the goggles, Johnny and Mark said he was snoring must have fallen asleep and the computer said that the camera was bumped by debris. He laughed telling them a dream about the hand and they laughed it off. “You gotta fix it?”

Taehyung got into the escape pod and depressurized from the ship and he steered it to his equipment, this was his work so it made sense that he would fix it but every speck of dust had him looking over his shoulder. The dream felt so real, too real, he used the mechanical arms to straighten the camera and reattach it securely to the Submarine his radio buzzed in his ear.

“Hey Tae, you gotta come back, Tae we watched the video there was a hand, You gotta come back Tae it’s still out there, we thought it was a shark but its not, it’s circling the Sub and it’s coming straight for you.”

Marks voice cut out as the line went dead.

Jeon Jungkook: War of Ramyeon

He was in his first year of Uni with an athletic scholarship and he lived in an apartment with a stranger, she seemed to never leave her room during the day and would work long hours of the night. There was an unspoken war going on, strongly worded post it notes depicting things that were annoying them. Jungkook woke to a note that asked him to only vacuum on the weekend as you worked the graveyard shift. He left one last week that asked her to stop stealing his ramyeon, when she ran out of food. When it came to Ramyeon there was nothing that Jungkook took more seriously. She scolded him for leaving his washing in the machine and he berated her for dirty dishes in the sink.

It was one Ramyeon too many and he decided he wouldn’t play fare. He started vacuuming and cleaning the whole house doing his washing and hanging it up enjoying the freedom to do everything he needed during daylight hours. He didn’t feel guilty until you stumbled home from the room work the next morning looking absolutely pale, eyes red and a dark shadow under each eye. You stripped in the doorway out of your work uniform and went to throw it in the wash and saw his clothes sitting at the bottom of the machine.

Reaching in with no mercy you threw it onto the floor looking him dead in the eyes. He had never heard your voice but it was low as you spoke. “I understand it feels restricting to be limited during the day time, but not all of us have a scholarship Jungkook” you sat waiting for the washing machine to finish to hang it out.

Next Week

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murasaki-murasame · 7 years ago

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Thoughts on Owarimonogatari Season 2 [Mayoi Hell]

I was hoping at first that I’d get done with my rewatch of the whole series up to this point before this came out, but I guess that sure didn’t happen, lol. I’ll get back to it eventually, once I have the free time for it. But for now I’m just gonna watch this now that it’s out. I’m already kinda late for this as it is.

I’m going to try and do this in a semi-liveblog-y way where I’ll binge-watch each part while giving my thoughts after each individual episode and then post this once I’m done, but if that ends up being annoying I might switch to only writing up my thoughts after I’ve completed each arc. Which also applies to the main rewatch. Doing it like an actual liveblog where I keep pausing it to write about it got really annoying really fast, so yeah.

It’s good to be back with this series after waiting nearly a year and a half, after Koyomimonogatari came out. I feel like I’m not really as into it as I used to be, which is why the idea of doing an entire rewatch is sorta daunting and might potentially fall apart if I lose interest, but it’s still nice to finally get to see the conclusion of the main story.

Anyway, spoiler-y thoughts under the cut. [And for the record, I’ll try and make posts for Hitagi Rendezvous and Ougi Dark over the next two days or so]

PART ONE:

I’m glad I have a good memory for stuff I’m into, since even with the fairly intense recapping going on it’s still kinda vague and there’s still so much going on in the series as a whole that this is building upon. There’s probably stuff I’m forgetting, but I think I’m good. I’m at least aware that the whole premise here is that Araragi got murdered by Gaen in an attempt to restore the spiritual balance of the town, and now he’s stuck in Hell and has to get back out.

Seeing Hachikuji again is as wonderful as I expected, even if it immediately reminded me that the fanservice with her character is one of the many things I kinda have to glaze over and look past in order to enjoy this show. There’s no point denying that. This is definitely a guilty pleasure sort of show that I’d be hard-pressed to recommend to most people. But even so, Hachikuji is great. I’m clearly less enthusiastic about her character than other people are, but I still like her as a character.

It makes sense, but I wasn’t expecting to get a literal walk down memory lane. Huh. It’s a nice way to make the story feel all full circle in time for the final arc, I guess. It at least helps remind us all that Araragi is the sort of person who would have kept doing the things he chose to do even if he could go back and re-do them. For better or worse. I’m glad that Araragi acknowledged that he fucked up pretty bad with Nadeko in general. He really, really did.

I’ve been kinda thinking about this for a while, but this whole arc is making me remember that I’ve always kinda struggled to get an exact grasp on Araragi as a person. I’m not sure why. Maybe rewatching the series would help, but something about his personality and world-view, or at least how he articulates it, feels weirdly difficult to get. But there’s still parts to his character that are pretty incredibly obvious, like his incredibly low self-esteem and his self-destructive heroism. I feel like I probably understand him more than I don’t, there’s just this weird feeling of distance involved, especially when he monologues about justice and stuff.

Of all characters, I wasn’t really expecting Tadatsuru to come up again, given how short-lived his screen-time was. Huh. I’m intrigued by the idea that it’s part of Gaen’s whole plan to have Araragi return from Hell, and that him dying somehow erased his vampirism. Is that, like . . . a legit, permanent thing now? Is he just not a vampire anymore? I feel like he still was when we saw him again in Hana, but I forget.

I guess we’ll get to her properly later, but I’m glad that we’re finally going to address the topic of Ougi. She’s been such a huge part of the story for a while now, so finally getting an explanation of what she is will be nice. I think I’ve already been spoiled on it a bit, so I won’t get into it until the show does.

The art in this arc already is kinda off the charts. This definitely seems like one of the more exceptionally dialogue-heavy arcs, so I guess they had room to just go completely nuts and do what they want, especially since it’s literally set in Hell so they have an excuse to use some surreal visuals. I’m glad we got a whole section with Hajime Ueda’s character design style. It always looks really good. I also just love how incredibly different pretty much every scene looks. Though in an almost opposite direction, I really like how the scene with Kiss-Shot was done to intentionally look like the beginning of Bake when we get the flashback to Kizu. That was kinda trippy, in a cool way.

It’s at least immediately confirming what I’ve been thinking, that Zaregoto just feels way more lifeless than the Monogatari series in terms of artistic direction, but that’s a rant for another day.

Before I move onto the second half of the arc, I should also say that it’s nice to get another Mayoi OP, even though hers have always been low on the list of favourite Monogatari OPs. The visuals were really nice, though. I hope we get an OP for Hitagi Rendezvous, but I heard that we won’t, so that sucks. Unless we get one in the BD release. Thankfully we’ll at least get an Ougi OP for the last arc of this. I’m still hoping that we get an actual Araragi OP when Shaft eventually adapts Zoku.

Oh yeah, on that note, the fact that this is seven episodes long in all REALLY makes me sad that they couldn’t have just added a Zoku adaptation onto the end and aired this as a regular one-cour anime. That would have been so much more convenient in every way. OH WELL. Hopefully it won’t take them too long to adapt Zoku, even if it probably won’t happen until next year. And then we’ll have Off Season and Monster Season to worry about. I wonder how long they’ll keep the series going before they cut their losses.

PART TWO:

I was, uh, not expecting basically everything in this part. Wow. So we finally got proper backstory for Tadatsuru, and learned what the heck was going on in Tsuki. I didn’t think Nisioisin would bother ‘explaining’ Tsuki, I figured it’d just be left as a kinda weird and out of the blue part of the story. But now it makes sense. So the whole time Tadatsuru was operating under orders from Ougi to kill Araragi, while also operating under orders from Oshino and Gaen to get killed so he can go down to Hell in order to help revive Araragi once he gets murdered later on. Huh. I also wasn’t expecting the entire deal with Tadatsuru being some kinda puppet master who had already died and was living through his dolls. All the focus on doll imagery in that part was kinda disturbing.

I wonder if we’ll ever see Oshino in the flesh again, in the present day. It’d be great to see him again. I’ve kinda missed him.

Also in terms of mysteries I didn’t think would get solved, I didn’t expect that the park name would be resolved and turn out to be so important. Wow. I feel like they’re setting up a plot point there, or at least furthering an existing plot point, but it’s hard to tell. It’s probably just a cultural difference, but it’s kinda difficult sometimes to understand the importance and relevance of shrines in this series, and what happens when they get relocated/destroyed/renamed/etc.

For some reason I kinda didn’t remember that Tadatsuru always saw Araragi as an enemy because he works with an apparition, so I guess it was a good thing we got reminded of that. We spend so much time with apparitions that I kinda forget that the specialists are literally trained to kill them, pretty much.

It was nice to see Hachikuji try and give Araragi a motivational speech about how he deserves to be resurrected. Her line about how he ‘loved being alive’ kinda got to me for some reason. But then of course that scene also got unexpectedly weird and funny.

And of course the major twist was that Hachikuji got taken out of Hell as well, which I did not see coming at all. Huh. I’m also kinda surprised that nothing bad seems to have happened, and that it actually benefits Gaen’s entire plan of action. I kinda expected it to be something that’d have an obvious downside, but maybe that’ll come up later.

I’m not entirely sure what the deal is with Kiss-Shot being there at the end in some weird hologram-y way, but I guess it had to do with the Yume-Watari sword. Although there’s also the fact that it really does seem like Araragi’s vampire aspect literally got erased, so maybe that changed things with Shinobu. I forget exactly how their link works, though, so I’m not entirely sure if him losing his vampire nature would help or hurt her. I guess we’ll see how it goes.

I wasn’t exactly expecting this entire arc to end on the note it did, but I guess it makes sense. I kinda feel bad for Araragi, though, getting killed, literally sent to Hell, and revived along with a friend he thought was dead, all in like an hour or so. And now he has to immediately take entrance exams and worry about how he’s going to have to help Gaen in her whole war with Ougi that’s being set up. He deserves a break.

Which is probably why Hitagi Rendezvous is, apparently, about him and Senjougahara going on a date. That’ll be cute. People have been complaining that they haven’t gotten enough screen-time as a couple yet, and I kinda feel that way too, so this will be nice.

Also on the note of Senjougahara, it sounds like whatever subs I was using decided to adopt the Vertical translation and call her ‘Senjyogahara’ which still just looks so fucking weird to me. I really dislike that was of romanizing her name. It’s not a big deal or anything, but still.

#murasaki rambles #monogatari series #owarimonogatari #owarimonogatari season 2 #just gonna use both tags to play it safe #I think this ended up being shorter than my other rewatch posts so that's nice #but this was just two episodes long so eh #not sure yet if I'll keep doing it this way or just talk about each entire arc at a time

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trentteti · 8 years ago

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The Logical Rose-ning Section: Your Recap of The Bachelorette, Episode 5

Rachel Lindsay is a practicing attorney who once took the LSAT. And you, dear reader, are an aspiring attorney who will soon take the LSAT. Rachel Lindsay is also an aspiring married person, serving as the Bachelorette on this season of The Bachelorette, the love story these depraved times deserve. And you, dear reader, may also be an aspiring married person? Either way, you definitely have at least a few things in common with Rachel. So every Tuesday (edit: and/or Wednesday), we’re going to be tracking Rachel’s romantic journey on The Bachelorette, and see what we can learn about love, loss, and the LSAT. Welcome back to the Logical Rose-ning Section.

Last time: We got a lot of racially charged bickering between Lee and like every contestant who didn’t share his complexion, making for a particularly uncomfortable two hours of television that overshadowed the, say, blimp-bound one-on-one with Dean where he pretended to be afraid of heights (a claim that we at Most Strongly Supported believe was full of hot air) (sorry). Anyway, the most important part was the “Next time on,” when they told us that we’d be getting two episodes—4 hours (!)—of The Bachelorette. Look, ABC and Warner Bros. Production, I don’t want to tell you how to run your television show (though perhaps someone should). But I’ve written like 10,000 words on this season already and even I think this is too much Bachelorette. Let’s scale back.

So this week, we got an amount of content that would make even Fyodor Dostoyevsky blush, so we’re just gonna do a quick hit on every section of this week’s four hour bonanza of The Bachelorette.

Spelling Bee Group Date

We’re somehow start this episode still on the spelling bee group date from last year, where Kenny and Lee are really getting into it. While those guys are getting into a racially-charged debate, Bryan is offering Rachel bon mots like, “I feel like … If you think I’m too good to be true for you, and if I think you’re too good to be true for me … and I thought about it and you know, I think it’s a very simple solution. We’re the perfect match.” Rachel digs that Bryan uses his time in the house to make equivocal arguments and not fixate on the other cases, and awards Bryan with the group date rose.

Kenny, in ostensibly congratulating Bryan, gives Lee the least sub-by subtweet of all time when he commends Bryan for doing it the “right way” and not “snaking any dudes.” “It’s very important, not being a bitch-ass dude,” Kenny concludes. Even Lee’s lizardy brain can figure out Kenny’s intent and the two cuss a lot. This only gets us like 15 minutes into the episode.

One-on-One Date with Jack Stone

After the drama with Kenny and Lee in the group date, Rachel settles into a one-on-one date with Jack Stone who, as we learn during this date, is the most boring dude in the world. “Jack and I have a lot in common. We’re both attorneys. We’re both around the same age. We both live in Dallas,” Rachel says with all the conviction of a prospect-less 37 year-old psyching herself up for a Tinder date with guy whose profile prominently features a MAGA hat. Rachel, though, is very much not a prospect-less woman. She’s got nothing but prospects right now. Like 15 prospects at this point.

We’ll never know why the producers insisted on calling Jack Stone “Jack Stone,” when they didn’t give anyone else the full name treatment and when there aren’t any other Jacks here. But we will be able to figure out why Jack got the boot on this date. The date could not have gone worse for Jack Stone, who has a manic, crazy-eyed vibe and delusional ideas about how well the date is going.

I don’t know what Jack Stone did to piss off the producers, but their wrath is on display throughout this date. Over the course of this date, the producers keep juxtaposing his confidence in the date against Rachel’s obvious disinterest. Their complete lack of chemistry even bores the camera guy, who seems to get like drunk on the job, winding up with perfect shots like this.

The producers then show Jack Stone awkwardly kissing Rachel. Like really awkwardly. Like enough to make you never want to try to kiss anyone ever again. In his confessional, he admits to “falling for Rachel,” and his look of absolute obliviousness is held for forty beats too long.

But most of this is Jack’s fault, turning this into a 10-minute televisual face palm emoji. Rachel admits to wanting to see his passion. He starts talking about her dad’s sense of humor … dude.

Rachel asks where Jack would take her if they were back in Dallas. Jack’s first thought is to take her back to his apartment, “lock the door,” and lay in bed and talk. That, somehow, did not appeal to Rachel, who finally decides to put Jack and all of us out of our misery by sending Jack home. Jack walks directly into the Harbor River, sinking to the bottom to live with the stingrays and loggerhead turtles of the island.

Rose Ceremony

Rachel displays an absolute ruthlessness in the cutting guys this week, starting with the first of three rose ceremonies this episode. Despite half these guys being palpably thirsty for more time with Rachel, Rachel decides to forgo the cocktail party, and go straight to the ceremonial beheading of the contestants unworthy of her time or affection.

Eric, Peter, Adam, Will (who gets a catchphrase going, saying “I Will [accept this rose]”), Matt (who is a guy that’s been on this show, apparently), Josiah, Anthony, Kenny, and Lee get roses, joining Dean and Bryan, who were already sitting pretty with the date roses.

This means that Iggy and Jonathan are sent packing. Jonathan assaults Rachel one last time by tickling her on his way out. I guess making tickling your brand isn’t the best way to find a wife. Iggy realizes he should have spent less time with guy drama and more time with Rachel. Iggy and Jonathan are then sent to the nearby set of Gullah Gullah Island, where they will be forced to satisfy the sensual proclivities of Binyah Binyah Polliwog for the rest of their days.

After the ceremony, Rachel announces they’re heading to Oslo. Who of these guys could tell us offhand that Oslo is in Norway? I think Will, Anthony, Josiah, and maybe Dean would actually know that without the aid of Wikipedia. Anyway, the guys get excited for Norway, the land of the Lillehammer Olympics (and forgotten Netflix series of the same name), smoked salmon, and the good wood that inspired a Beatles song about a disturbed arsonist who gets so angry at a woman for going to bed early that he sets her house on fire.

Which of these guys are Oslo in Rachel’s estimation, and which of these guys are Norway in danger of going home? Onto the land of cured fish, cross-country skiing, and democratic socialism to find out.

One-on-One Date with Bryan

Upon meeting the guys in Scandanavia, Rachel gives the boys the most adorable Young M.A. “OOOOUUUU” shout out, and then gives Bryan the first one-on-one date card.

Dean, feeling himself way too much despite wearing a ripped pink sweater, declares that he wouldn’t be surprised if Bryan didn’t return.

Bryan and Rachel have the romantic date of repelling down the Holmenkollbakken Olympic ski jump. Rachel, experienced attorney and/or apparent Snoop fan, notes the coincidence that it’s 187 feet high—the California Penal Code statute for murder. Is she saying that that she feels like the producers are trying to murder her? Is she planning on murdering Bryan? The whole affair seemed pretty safe, the closest thing to murder being pretty unflattering angle the producers use to film Rachel and Bryan’s descent.

Rachel opens up to Bryan about insecurities about not feeling pretty growing up next to her sister. Bryan does the same, referencing his awkward high school days. Bryan becomes the first guy to drop the “falling in love with you” bomb. Rachel seems taken aback, but gives him the rose nonetheless.

Handball Group Date

Adam, Dean, Anthony, Piggo, Matt, Will, Alex, Eric, and Josiah get invited to a group date, leaving Kenny and Lee for their inevitable two-on-one.

The dudes play the Olympic-version handball, which is a bit different than the handball game the cool kids in the third grade wouldn’t let me play. Rachel calls handball a combination of football, basketball, and water polo, despite the fact that there’s no contact or water. Handball is basically swaggerless basketball, but it’s kind of cool because it involves jumping and throwing things very hard.

The guys split up in the red team and blue team to play. Rachel joins the red team. Piggo clearly a fouls Rachel when he tries to sneak in a little grab-action during the course of play. The referees, clearly not as familiar Rule 8.2 (b) of the International Handball Federations Rules of the Game as some astute viewers, let this clear foul (and potential display of sexual harassment) slide.

Will is apparently a bona fide handball savage, and gets a not-totally-undeserved comparison to Jordan in the ‘97 Finals from Rachel. The U.S. has never medaled in handball in the Olympics, but this might change once Will joins the national team.

Afterwards, at the polet portion of the date, Will further confides in Rachel about past loves lost, and gets some kysee time with Rachel. Alex macks on Rachel with a handwritten letter and Matt sews lyrics on a purple sheet, which Rachel seems to dig. Josiah, however, gets a little intense, discussing how Rachel’s beauty “emanates from [her] core” and talks about how she is the woman of his dreams. Rachel is taken aback about how disingenuous this all seems. We’re taken aback by extreme Josiah face.

Piggo the Perceptive impresses her by reading her eye contact. He gets some exclusive one-on-one hot tub action with Rachel, despite the aforementioned handball foul.

Will gets the group date rose. He again says “I absolutely Will” accept the offered rose. Cool catchphrase, dude.

Two-on-One Date with Kenny and Lee

The nadir of this four-hour marathon is this two-on-one date with Kenny and Lee. We’re reminded of the rules: Two guys, one rose, loser goes home. Look, Kenny and Lee argue a bunch. Lee appears to lie a whole bunch. He lies about Kenny dragging him out of a van (something the producers never showed us, even though they probably would have spent 17 hours on it if it actually happened), about Kenny admitting to having a “dark side” when he drinks, about Kenny threatening him during the date (which may have happened—most of what Kenny said was censored in his discussions with Lee), about telling Rachel that Kenny threatened him. Lee, look into how cameras work, man.

Kenny “wins” this date and Lee is thankfully sent packing. Who are these two-on-one dates for though? They’re never as “explosive” as the promos promise, so the audience doesn’t win. The Bachelor or Bachelorette never seem to have any fun on it. The winner of the two-on-one never actually wins the whole thing. Kenny at this point is basically the Utah Jazz upsetting the LA Clippers. Moral victory and he lives to see the next day, but he’s still facing an inevitable drubbing by the Golden State Warriors in the next round.

Rose Ceremony

In our second of three rose ceremonies, Rachel gives Dean, Eric, Piggo, Alex, Adam, and Matt roses, who join the aforementioned Will. Anthony (whom I had pegged as a real contender) and Josiah are sent packing home.

Anthony handles it with class, and Josiah … does not. “Something wrong with her brain,” noted neurologist Josiah notes. Josiah proceeds to calls out Alex for being a KGB agent (Alex is Russian) and Adam (who brought a doll named Adam Jr.) for bringing a “Michael Myers” doll (which, to be fair, is the only trait we’ve learned about Adam thus far).

Rachel announces they’re then taking a jaunt south to Copenhagen, Denmark, where the producers decide to let their pun game really fly.

One-on-One Date with Eric

The first date card in Copenhagen read “I’m cOPEN to love.” Eric, whose constant need of attention and affirmation is more or less his defining personality trait, is given this attention and affirmation via this one-on-one date.

Rachel pulls up in a boat on the Nyhavn canal, a body of water large enough to quench the immense thirst Eric feels at all times. They cruise down the canal and recite interesting facts about the waterfront houses like “sailors used to live in the houses here.” They then go to like a hot tub bar where a guy exposes his little Hamlet, and then to an amusement park, which we’re told is the second-most visited amusement park in the world. Honestly, it looks a little basic to my American eyes. Denmark, your citizens may be happier and more educated than ours, you may have one of the best restaurants in the world, but you’re still not on our level, theme park-wise. At dinner, where two enormous burgers sit untouched and uneaten, Eric opens up about not receiving a love from his mother, which affected his ability to accept love in romantic relationships. He gets a rose, which he seems more than willing to accept.

Viking Group Date

Dean, Kenny, Matt, Adam, and Piggo are the contestants on the next group date. “I’ve taken a Viking to you,” the date card reads. The producers are just on fire with the date card puns this episode.

The dudes go to a big field where they act like Vikings. Upon arrival, the Danish Viking reenactor says, “They don’t really look like Vikings,” problematically. They do some Viking stuff to find out who is the best Viking, I guess. They row a big boat and sword fight. Kenny, whose eye gash has been teased for like five weeks now and was suggested to be a product of Lee, gets a cut when battling with Adam in the finals of the Vikings games. Kenny nonetheless wins the match, and become the Viking Champion, an oxymoron to anyone in the greater Minneapolis area.

At the cocktail party, Bryan and Piggo have a handsome-off. Rachel is positively smitten with both. Matt appears to be drinking a spritzer while wearing a shabby brown polo. He spends all the time with Rachel talking about Kenny. How is this guy still on? Speaking of Kenny, the dude deteriorates on this date—he doesn’t think the relationship has grown at the rate the other guys’ have, he is missing his daughter, and he is sporting a Nelly band-aid on his face 15 years after its expiration date. Rachel strongly suggests that he should good home to be with his daughter, and he obliges. Kenny, you may have been embroiled in the dumb Lee stuff for weeks now, but I’ll nonetheless miss you. Shouts to you and doting dads everywhere.

Piggo gets the group date rose. Bryan takes this news really well.

One-on-One with Will

Finally, we have a one-on-one date with Will. “Will you be my Swedey,” the card reads. Double pun! The two take a quick day trip to Helsingborg, Sweden, where Will’s lack of physical intimacy leaves Rachel colder than a winter’s night in Gothenburg. During the date, Will slowly transforms back into Urkel. It’s rough. Rachel drops the “I think you’re so great, so amazing, but …” Will does not get the rose. He absolutely Will not be seeing Rachel anymore.

Rose Ceremony

Finally, after what was four hours of The Bachelorette (but felt like at least fifteen), we get to the third of three rose ceremonies. Rachel has been tossing guys out like uneaten lutefisk this week, but she claims this will be the hardest goodbye she had to say.

Bryan, Matt, Dean, and Adam get the roses, joining Eric. Alex, wearing the inexcusable high-school-sophomore-at-the-homecoming-dance look with a black suit, black shirt and solid pink tie, is sent packing.

Are you exhausted? I’m exhausted. Four hours is a long time. But guess what, that’s how long the LSAT is. If you could make it through this absolute grind of an episode, the LSAT will be no prob for you.

The Logical Rose-ning Section: Your Recap of The Bachelorette, Episode 5 was originally published on LSAT Blog

#LSAT #The Bachelorette #The Logical Rose-ning Section #trent teti #lsat

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anavoliselenu · 8 years ago

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Mile high chapter 7

I heard his words as if at a distance, my mind suddenly recalling an appalling little detail I’d read in a tabloid, about Justin and Jules both coming from affluent English families who both shared a long history as avid equestrians.

“Was it her?” I asked in a whisper, my eyes narrowed.

He squeezed me more tightly against him, as if sensing a threat. He buried his face in my neck before he spoke. “Who are you referring to?”

I stiffened even more. “Jules,” I said, my voice going glacial.

I felt him sigh against me. “It was. But it didn’t mean anything. Please don’t use her to keep me at a distance.”

I tried to move off of him, but he had me at a severe disadvantage, and he wasn’t letting me go.

Instead, he clicked Demon back into a brisk walk.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

He began to move inside of me again, his erection swiftly growing and hardening, as though it were a parlor trick.

I gasped, slapping at his shoulders. “You can’t use sex to subdue me,” I told him. I was hurt and angry, but also unwillingly and wildly aroused.

“You can’t withdraw from me every time you get mad or jealous. We need to talk this out. I’m not letting you go until we do.”

I pulled on his hair, hard, but my h*ps were already moving unbidden with his thrusts. “You call this talking?”

“I call this making love, and yes, talking.” He tried to smile at me. I yanked on his sweaty hair. He winced, but made no move to stop me.

“Why do you keep calling it that? Why do you keep calling it making love?”

He gave me a smoldering look. “You know why. You keep trying to belittle what we have, but you need to understand that it’s as new to me as it is to you. I have a past. A wildly sordid past. I can’t change it. I would if I could. You are going to run into a lot of my ex-lovers. That’s an unfortunate fact.

It will be a lot less painful for you if you can just get it into your head that none of them were anything but a f**k to me. And f**king was nothing to me before I met you. Sex was a bodily function to me before I met you. That’s why I call this making love. It means something to me.”

“I’ve never even had a girlfriend before you, never even considered the idea. I’m sure it sounds callous, but no woman has ever been anything to me beyond a fuck, a sub, or a friend, occasionally all three, though never all of them for long. They all knew the score. I was brutally honest with every single one of them, without exception. You are the one that I want, the one that I need. So getting upset about my past, or feeling jealous of women I’ve been with, is unwarranted.”

He never stopped moving as he spoke, and I felt emotionally charged.

“Unwarranted?” The word burst out of me, angry and wounded. “I’ve years worth of pictures of you going out with Jules. How can you expect me to dismiss that out of hand?” I gasped as he thrust harder, a deliberate motion, his eyes intense. “Unfair,” I muttered. “And you are hardly one to talk. I was a virgin when I met you, but you’re still jealous of every man I speak to. That’s unwarranted.”

He lifted me up and down for several long, fast strokes before he spoke. He was playing me like a drum, I knew. It was very hard to stick to my point when I was insanely turned on, and in the middle of getting thoroughly f**ked. “When I was about eighteen, the paparazzi were hounding me relentlessly, printing silly stories that drove me crazy. They were hiding in the bushes when I left school. It was out of control.”

I tried my hardest to focus on his words, but he wasn’t helping, still moving inside of me tirelessly.

“You know how I need control,” he growled.

He thrust harder, clicking Demon into a hard trot. He clicked again, and the motion took us into a canter. This movement was unfamiliar to my limited riding skills, and I clutched at Justin’s shoulders in panic. His thrusts were more measured at this pace. I was falling apart almost instantly.

“Come,” he ordered roughly. It took me over the edge. He slowed back to a walk, but still didn’t stop.

“You know how I need control,” he repeated. “But the things they were doing were completely out of my control, and I realized one day that the press was like a garden hose,” he explained.

I blinked at him, dazed and confused. “A garden hose?” I asked.

He gave me a gentle smile, enjoying the complete loss of my composure. “A garden hose. If you turn it on too lightly, you can’t control the flow. It just drips where it will. But if you turn it to full force, you can control the flow, sending it wherever you want. So I began to court the paparazzi, rather than ducking away. I encouraged their attentions by charming them, and publicly, becoming an open book. Or rather, making it appear that way. Jules was my best friend’s sister, and occasionally, a very casual lover of mine, and we’d been friends for awhile. We were seen out and about together, since we traveled in the same circles. I quickly noticed that she loved the attention, encouraging rumors about us shamelessly, even leaking lies to the press about us.”

His eyes were solemn and serious on my face as he continued, “I see now that it was stupid to let her take it so far, but at the time I couldn’t see a problem with it. Other women thought she and I had an open relationship, so no one tried for anything more with me. It saved me from worse misunderstandings, for a time. I see that it looks bad, but I want you to trust me that that’s all it was. Jules is not someone you need to worry about.”

He began to move in earnest after that little speech, and he undid me yet again, bringing me to release at a trot. I sobbed his name, gripping his hair in tight fists. He came with me that time, his eyes going so soft that unwanted tears pricked my eyes.

He slowed Demon to a walk. He leaned me back slightly, his eyes moving down to where our bodies joined. He ran his tongue over his model perfect teeth as he studied the sight. My own gaze followed his. The sight that greeted me made my barely steadied breath catch.

I was still impaled on him, my moisture mixing with his on the thick base of his shaft as he shifted me slightly up and back.

His voice was low with pleasure when he spoke. “You’re so full of my sem*n right now. You’re stuffed full of my c*ck and my cum. I want to keep you like this forever. I might have gotten you pregnant just now, if you weren’t on the pill.”

His words made me stiffen, the sensual haze lifting from me in an instant. I tried to shift off of him. He had to help me lift off of his semi-hard length.

He pulled me flush against him, his c*ck between us. “Wrap your arms and legs around me tightly. I’m going to dismount. Too much more of this and I’ll make you too raw to f**k for days.”

I did as he said. “I thought it was making love,” I told him archly.

He sent me a censorious look. “Sassy girl.”

He set me on unsteady feet, leaning me against Demon when I swayed.

“Get your balance. I need to catch Princess.”

He fastened his trousers while he walked away. Princess was still visible, though she was quite a ways behind us. It seemed she had been trailing us, albeit slowly.

I hadn’t noticed, for obvious reasons.

Demon didn’t protest as I leaned against him heavily, watching Justin stride to Princess purposefully, vaulting onto her back in that smooth motion that seemed impossible, given the height. He rode her back to us at a smooth canter, stopping smoothly beside us and dismounting with the grace of a panther.

He studied me from head to foot, his eyes lingering appreciatively on the sight of my bared sex. He moved to a pouch on his saddle as he spoke. “I take it from your reaction that you don’t want children any time soon.” His tone was almost idle, as though it were the most casual topic in the world.

I looked at him incredulously. “Or ever. I’m way too f**ked up to ever be a mother,” I said, my tone final.

He didn’t take the hint. “Why would you think that? Because of your childhood?” He turned to look at me as he pulled a rolled up pair of jeans from the pouch.

“Yes, of course, because of that. My mind is too clouded with dark things. Mother’s are supposed to be, I don’t know, happy, and full of love. They should be able to give and receive love, and I’m not sure I’m capable of that.” I flushed at what I’d revealed. I was embarrassed by how screwed up I was, but he needed to know.

He moved to me as I spoke, cupping my cheeks, his eyes impossibly tender. “Oh, Selena, that’s just not true. You think only the people with perfect childhoods should be parents?”

I mulled it over, finding the answer easily. “Of course not.”

“You probably think someone like me should never be a father.”

I blinked, mortified that he would think such a thing. “Of course not. I think you’ll be great at it, when you have children. You’re so patient, and controlled.”

He stroked my cheeks, giving me a look so intense that I had to fight the urge not to look away. It was so much like trying to stare into the sun. “So will you. But if you never want to have children, I can live with that, as well.”

My heart stopped, just stopped, then began to pound as though I’d just run a marathon. “What are you saying?”

He kissed me, a long, heated kiss. “Nothing. You just aren’t ready to talk about this. I don’t want to scare you off again.”

I took deep breaths, trying not to panic at what I knew he’d almost said.

He shrugged the whole thing off, slinging my jeans over his shoulder and digging back into the saddlebag. He pulled out some packed wet cloths, unbuttoning his trousers to wipe our mingled fluids off.

I watched him touch himself, biting my lip. How could I still want him with such desperation when he’d just had me, again and again? I didn’t know, but there it was.

He disposed of the wipe in a small bag, taking out more wipes to clean me. His gaze was scorching as he cleaned me, eyeing me from top to bottom in a sexy once over.

“Keep looking at me like that if you want to get f**ked against a horse,” he warned.

I looked away, moving against his searching fingers as he cleaned me. He smacked my bare ass roughly with his other hand.

“I’m trying not to f**k you raw. Don’t make it harder.” His tone was so stern that I just got more turned on.

I closed my eyes, still biting my lip.

He growled, dragging me over to a tree. He placed my hands against the rough trunk. “Don’t move an inch. You need a good spanking. You’re just lucky that you need to ride back, or I’d spank you raw, you little minx.”

I arched my back, my body running the show.

He growled again, and began to spank me, his leather-clad gloves smarting at the first blow.

I moaned, shifting around. He stopped after ten, breathing hard.

He was entering me without warning an instant later, cupping my br**sts, his breath rough and heavy in my ear. “Just one quick, gentle ride. I can’t f**king think straight, I want you so bad. Don’t move, this needs to be quick and soft.”

I let out a ragged laugh at his description of being f**ked against a tree by his impressive c*ck ‘gentle’ and ‘soft’.

It wasn’t the jarring ride I usually craved. He moved in and out of me smoothly, crying out in my ear as he came, too fast for me to even keep up.

I was shocked at his release. He usually went for so long before coming himself. But, of course, he didn’t leave me unsatisfied for long. He was turning me, kneeling in front of me, ripping a glove off impatiently with his teeth.

He buried his face between my legs with a rough moan, and I screamed as he purposefully made me come, using his tongue and fingers and just the barest hint of teeth, my hands gripping his silky hair all the while.

He cleaned us up again after that, shaking his head ruefully all the while. He had to strip off my chaps before he worked me into my panties and then tight jeans. They were new, but still fit perfectly. I wasn’t even surprised by it anymore. He worked the chaps back up my legs swiftly and efficiently, as though he’d done it a thousand times. I tried my best not to dwell on that fact.

“I never thought I’d have the urge to f**k someone to death,” he muttered.

I giggled.

He gave me a little smirk as he led me back to Princess. He helped me mount, and I turned quickly, wanting to see him execute his own perfect mount once again. He did so effortlessly, taking the lead as we headed back to the ranch.

“Did you need to get back to Vegas today or tomorrow?” Justin asked, glancing back at me.

I grimaced, thinking about it. “Tonight. I’d hate to push it and hit bad weather.”

He sighed with resignation. “Okay. We’ll have lunch and head out.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

We were heading back to Vegas in way too short a time. So much had happened in our short reprieve.

Justin had weakened my resolve to keep my distance in that way he had, with his persistence and his willpower. He was not a man to be deterred. And for whatever reason, he seemed resolute in his desire to be with me. And wanting me for something more permanent than I’d ever thought he would even consider. Living together didn’t terrify me, as marriage did, but I couldn’t say that I was even approaching comfortable with it.

We were both quiet for the drive, and then the flight. I didn’t mind. I had a lot to think about, and Justin seemed lost in his own thoughts, not even getting his laptop out to get some work done on the flight.

“We’ll stay at your house tonight,” Justin said, as we touched down in Vegas. It was the first thing he’d said in an hour. I studied him. He seemed a little distant, a little sad.

“I’m having some work done on my place,” he explained. “I’ll finally give you a tour of the property sometime next week.”

I just nodded, but he hadn’t been asking me a question.

We went to bed early that night. Justin could see that I was exhausted from the riding and the traveling, and oh yeah, the phenomenal f**king.

He did his kinky little exam of my body. It had become a habit of his. I felt well enough, mostly tired, and a little sore, but he insisted on checking every inch of me. He softly kissed shadow bruises still on my ribs and back, the abrasions on my wrists and ankles, and even turned me around to check my butt, for soreness from the saddle. He studied my sex last, his eyes heavy-lidded as he touched me ever so gently, fingers sifting through my folds.

“You’ve got to be the kinkiest wannabe doctor on the planet,” I told him with a half smile.

His mouth turned up faintly at the corners. He took it as a challenge. The comment seemed to inspire him to be kinkier.

He’d brought a glass of ice water into the room, and he grabbed it from the beside table, taking a long drink. One of his hands still held my inner thigh, keeping my legs pushed wide apart and my body pinned to my spot right at the edge of the mattress.

He bent, burying his face between my legs. I gasped as he pushed an ice cube inside of me with his clever tongue. He lapped at me like a cat for a moment before straightening again. He took another long drink, repeating the process. My hands fisted in his silky hair, begging him silently for release, but he took his time. He stroked me, and licked me, and sat back, just to look at me, again and again. He pushed a finger into me, thrusting, but I wanted more.

“Please, Justin, I want you inside of me.”

He bit the bottom lip of that pretty mouth, but didn’t respond, just kept up the process.

I was shivering, chills wracking me from both desire and the delectable feeling of cold ice inside of me.

He had shoved five cubes in deep.

He took another ice cube and began to run it along my belly, circling my navel in almost lazy motions.

Next he ran the ice up along my ribs, then traced my sternum. My n**ples were already pebbled long before he’d payed them any personal attention. I shivered and shuddered as he finally circled a quivering nipple.

The ice wasn’t the only cold thing he’d brought into the bedroom with us, I realized after endless minutes of his teasing. His very demeanor was cold tonight, his eyes icy as he worked on me slowly, torturously.

“Am I being punished?” I asked him finally, when he held back from letting me come, pulling his busy fingers out of me just short of release.

He smiled, and even the smile was cold. “Not exactly. This is only a lesson, Selena. I’m doing this to you for one simple reason. Because I can. This is what it means to be my submissive.”

I writhed at that, his calculated actions bringing out a shivering fear that, perversely, made me want him even more.

“Will you be f**king me tonight? Or is this all a tease? Because you can?”

In answer, he buried his face between my legs again, his tongue circling my clit, his fingers going back to work inside of me. I felt the ice cubes clink together, and I moaned, right on the edge of orgasm. He straightened, leaving me bereft.

He stood, stripping out of his boxer briefs in one smooth motion. He was hard. At this point, I would have been more shocked if he wasn’t. He stroked himself, looking down at me with that hard, stony expression. I bit my lip as I watched him stroke himself, once, twice. I was sobbing on his third stroke, drawing my legs up to my chest, wanting to touch myself, anything to ease the ache that the ice inside of me only antagonized. I pushed my legs down, lifting my h*ps into the air in a silent plea.

He stopped abruptly. “No,” he finally answered. “I’m punishing myself tonight, so I won’t be f**king you. Only you get to come tonight.”

He bent down, and began the torture all over again. He’d said I could come, but he hadn’t said when, and he left me wanting for long minutes that felt like hours.

The first ice had melted, with new cubes replacing it, before he finally sucked me into a cli**x so hard that I sobbed out his name at the end, tears running down my cheeks.

He tried to hold me afterwards, and I turned away, trying to roll out of his reach. But my bed wasn’t that big, and he was determined. He swatted my butt for the effort.

“Don’t turn away from me,” he said in a hard voice, pulling my back against him.

I tried to fall asleep, but he began to touch me again, kneading my br**sts until I was arching my back, brushing my backside against his stiff length.

“You can take me there,” I told him, brushing my backside against him again. I hated that he was denying himself, whatever the reason.

He purred against me. “No release for me, not tonight. I keep pushing you too hard, even though you’re injured and unaccustomed to this. I need a torturous night to reflect on my sins. Keep teasing me. I deserve it.”

I stopped rubbing my butt against him, not willing to help him in that regard. He bit my neck, one hand snaking down to stroke my sex. “You don’t want me to suffer, Love? You don’t agree with the punishment I’ve chosen for myself?”

“No,” I said on a gasp.

He plunged his large fingers into me, starting up an exquisite rhythm.

“I want to bring you pleasure, not punishment,” I told him.

He grunted. “Well, it’s not up to you, is it?” he asked, his fingers quickening, bringing me to orgasm quickly this time, a stark contrast to what he’d done to me the first time.

He kept his fingers inside of me, a hand gripping my breast, and his stiff erection still pressed firmly against my butt.

“Go to sleep, love,” he whispered harshly in my ear.

I was so exhausted that I actually did.

Justin woke me in the morning in much the way he’d put me to bed, his hand stroking me, his other kneading at my breast. He was sucking on that perfect spot on my neck, his rigid c*ck grinding against my butt in rhythm to his fingers.

“Are you awake?” he asked into my ear.

“Yes. Please, I need you inside me. Please don’t deprive yourself again.” I arched my back as I spoke.

He shifted me onto my back, but stayed on his side. He dragged me around until my wet entrance was pointed at his stiff member, throwing my legs over his hip. My head was nearly hanging off the side of the bed.

One of his arms was used to prop him up, but his other hand was free to roam over my body. He lingered on my br**sts, plucking at my n**ples.

“I’m going to have special rings designed for these,” he said, and rammed into me.

I didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant. I was too busy gasping as he began a jolting rhythm, still pulling on my br**sts.

“I’ll make them match your collar and your earrings. I want you dripping in diamonds. I’ll decorate all of your chains with them. Before I’m done with you, every part of your body will be stamped with my ownership.”

My hands fisted in the sheets. It was all I could reach in this position. I used my legs to move with his thrusts, and he groaned in approval.

He had us both coming in swift moments, impatient from his night of torture.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” I asked him as we lay panting, spent.

“A little. Though every time I drifted off, I woke up trying to violate you in your sleep. I need to rethink that punishment, I think.”

I shifted until I could kiss him. It was a long, sweet kiss. He was surprisingly passive for it, as if he was curious to see what I would do.

I pulled back, touching his cheek. I knew my tenderness showed in my eyes. “Get a little more sleep.

Please? At least rest while I go try to scrounge up breakfast.”

He must have been exhausted, because he nodded, closing his eyes. He didn’t open them as he raised my hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

I rose, pulling a sheet over him, and impulsively kissing his forehead before throwing on my tiny, nearly transparent shift. I grabbed a thong from my drawer full of the lacy things, even knowing I would be changing again soon, since I needed to shower after breakfast.

I padded into the kitchen, getting out anything I could find that went well with eggs. I cursed when I heard the loud sound of the garbage truck driving down my little street. I had already forgotten to put out my trash can the week before. I really needed to get it out to the curb before the truck passed my house.

I wouldn’t normally go out front in my tiny slip of a nightgown, but I didn’t have a spare moment to change.

Besides, I’ll be quick. I told myself. I just needed to drag my one full garbage can out of the garage and onto the curb, then dart back in. And this was Vegas. See-through clothing was hardly unheard of, even in public.

I moved into the garage, punching the button to open my garage door. I was already dragging the can underneath the door when it was only halfway up. I was relieved to see that the garbage truck was a few houses away. I had made it in time.

I didn’t notice the strange man blatantly photographing me until I was at the curb, lining up my garbage can.

I saw him, and just froze while he took shot after shot of me.

I wasn’t galvanized into action until he looked up from the large camera, leering at me. “Thank you, Ms.

Karlsson. Looking hot this morning.”

He was a paunchy man, in his late forties, I guessed. Just the look on his face made my stomach churn. I was turning to rush back into the house when all hell broke loose.

A large man in a suit grabbed the greasy photographer, handling him roughly at the same time that the garage door into the kitchen burst open, a frantic, boxer clad Justin sprinting out. I heard clicks behind me, the photographer somehow managing to get a few shots of Justin, even while being restrained by a man much larger than himself. It was almost impressive.

I watched Justin’s face as he took in the mess, watched it change from frantic to livid in a heartbeat. He looked like he wanted to murder the man as he strode to me, glaring at the paparazzi the entire time. He stepped in front of me, blocking me from view.

“Get inside,” he said through gritted teeth.

I had seen his face. I couldn’t imagine, from his look, that he didn’t plan to do the man violence.

“Come inside with me, please,” I pleaded with him, my voice pitched low.

“Go, Selena. Now.”

I hugged his back, not wanting him to get into trouble for some scumbag photographer.

“You look like you’re going to attack him, Justin. I don’t want you to go to jail.” Even as I spoke, I heard a few more clicks from that damn camera. The man was fearless.

“I would rather f**king go to jail than let him leave with those pictures of you. Now go inside.”

“Your man over there can handle it,” I said, my cheek against his back. “And who will protect me, if you’re in jail? Would it be worth it, if something happened to me while you were gone?” I felt horrible saying it, and I knew it wasn’t even a sound argument, but I was desperate to get him to walk away, and I thought it would at least get his attention. Some scandalous pictures of me were not my biggest concern.

He shuddered, and I felt a rush of relief. He turned into me, still using his body to block me from view, and ushered me back into the garage.

“Get those f**king pictures off of his camera, Stimpson, or it’s your f**king job!” Justin barked over his shoulder, not slowing.

“What the f**k were you thinking?” Justin burst out the second he’d shut the door from the garage into my kitchen. “Do you like giving the world a f**king show?”

I stiffened at his words, raised nearly to a rage-filled shout. I didn’t respond, raising my chin and walking woodenly through my house and into my bathroom.

If he was going to take his anger out on me in a way I couldn’t handle, I supposed it was better that I find out sooner rather than later. I tried to stay calm, but my whole body was shaking as I waited to see what he’d do next.

I tossed off my scanty clothes before stepping into the shower, turning it on, the cold spray hitting me for several seconds before it began to warm.

I just stood under the spray, unmoving, for several minutes. It was a long time before Justin joined me.

I felt him more than saw him, since my eyes were closed.

He hugged me very carefully from behind. My first instinct was to pull away, but I let him hold me. I could feel him trembling, and the thought of hurting him, when he was as vulnerable as I, was abhorrent to me.

“I’m so sorry, love. Of course you were just taking out your trash, like a normal person. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. I’m sorry I raised my voice. I would never put my hands on you in anger. Whatever demons I may have, I don’t have that in me. But I saw that scared look on your face when I raised my voice. I hate myself for putting it there.”

I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t push him away, either.

He washed me, his touch gentle. “Will you come to the hotel with me today? You can do a spa day while I get a few things done.” As he spoke, he lathered my hair.

I sighed, feeling weak from the morning’s drama.

Why not do a spa day? I asked myself, seriously considering the idea. I never got to do things like that.

I didn’t have to work until evening, and Justin would spend ridiculous amounts of money on me, spa day or not. It was really a drop in the bucket at this point.

“You can invite anyone you want. They’ll give you the royal treatment, as well as any of your friends.

Just invite Stephan, and tell him to get the word out. You could have a flight attendant reunion at the spa, if you want. My resort has one of the best in town.”

I caved at the plea in his voice. He was like a child, grasping for a way to make amends.

“Okay,” I finally said. I sounded like a brat to my own ears. “Thank you, Justin. That’s considerate.

You’re considerate.”

Wet lips kissed my cheek almost sloppily. It was so unlike him that I let out a little giggle.

“Thank you. Nothing makes me happier than taking care of you, in any way that I can.” His voice was a raw whisper against my skin.

I turned and hugged him, his vulnerability almost palpable to me at that moment.

“You make me so happy, Selena. I was just angry with myself, that I’d failed to protect you, yet again.”

“Oh, Justin. What am I going to do with you? A few stupid pictures aren’t going to hurt me.”

“When I heard the garage door opening, my heart stopped. Just the thought of you being outside by yourself, when your father is still on the loose, makes me panicky.”

“I obviously wasn’t alone, with that bodyguard out there. Seems to me like you had your bases covered.”

He stiffened up at that. “What took him so f**king long to react? That’s what I want to know.”

I kissed the center of his chest, right in that little indent between his well muscled pectorals. I loved that spot.

I filled my palm with shampoo, reaching up high to lather his honey-colored hair. I smiled at him as the motion dragged my chest against his. He bent down to give me better access, leaning his forehead onto my shoulder. I washed him as he had washed me. It was the first time he’d allowed me to tend to him as tenderly as he so often did to me. “Do you mind me touching you like this? Is that why you avoid letting me do this to you, usually?”

He shook his head, his eyes closed. His voice was a rasp in my ear. “Not you. I love any touch from you. It feels caring, and I want that. I want so much for you to care for me.”

My heart hurt a little at his words. I wanted to reassure him, but the words were a lump in my throat.

He just hugged me tightly, not pressing me for the words. If he had wanted a woman who could express her feelings easily, I supposed he wouldn’t have chosen me.

“Move in with me.” His words were quiet but heartfelt.

I sighed. He was an undeniable force. A few short days, and it was nearly impossible to tell him no.

“How about this? We’ll spend more time together. If we’re in the same city, we’ll have sleepovers, just like we’ve done the last few days.”

He just about squeezed the breath out of me. “Thank you,” he rasped, and began to kiss me. His hands were everywhere, his mouth hot, as he backed me against the shower wall. When he felt my hot center and found it wet, he lifted me against him, impaling me brutally.

“Tell me if you’re sore,” he said roughly.

He leaned my back against the tiled wall and began to thrust.

I was sore, deliciously sore, but I wouldn’t have told him so for anything. Then he might have stopped the heavenly orgasm that built as he pounded into me. I watched his lovely face, as he had taught me, as he moved, my hands grasping his shoulders. His face was wet, his golden skin so perfect. I thought he looked like an angel, with his wet hair trailing into his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” I told him quietly, but he still heard me over the spray.

He clearly enjoyed my admiration, his body shuddering in preparation for his cli**x. I felt him shuddering down to my toes, and it tipped me over the edge.

I cupped his cheek as we came together. It was so intimate that it should have made me cold, or uncomfortable, or even repulsed, but it didn’t. More and more, I was craving this intimacy, not running from it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

After we’d showered and dressed, I found my phone, intending to text Stephan about the spa day.

Justin held up a hand. “Let me talk to him.”

I wrinkled my nose. He tapped it.

“Why do you need to tell him?” I asked, suspicious.

“Why not?” he asked.

I dropped it, seeing by his innocent expression that I would have better luck asking Stephan what Justin was texting him.

“I’m going to cook some eggs for breakfast, unless you object,” I told him, pulling on an old sundress. I figured I’d get dressed for real after we ate. I didn’t even bother with underwear.

He gave me a heated kiss. He tasted unbelievably good. He always did. I sucked at his hot mouth, and he groaned, pulling away. He smiled and slapped my ass.

I beat a hasty retreat. At this rate, we would f**k each other until we starved to death.

I was walking to the kitchen, phone still clutched in my hand, when it began to ring. I glanced at the face. I recognized the number, since I’d missed several calls from the same 702 number over the past month.

Impulsively I answered. I didn’t like mysteries, and I wanted to know who kept calling me so persistently.

“Hello,” I said into the phone.

There was no response on the other end, just silence with the faintest hint of soft music in the background. Three heartbeats later the phone disconnected from the other end.

My brow was furrowed as I set my phone on the counter and began to cook breakfast. The calls were strange, but hardly something to let myself be bothered about. I resolved not to let myself dwell on them.

I made a huge portion of eggs and whatever else I could find that went with them. Peppers, onions, ham, smoked turkey, with some extra sharp cheddar to top it off. It was a better breakfast then I’d thought I could come up with, so I was rather pleased with the effort.

Justin ate a ridiculous amount of it. His plate had to be filled with at least five eggs worth, but he cleared it in short order. He ate it as though he’d never had such fine food in his life, when the reality was, it was just what I could scrounge up, since I was often out of town. Still, I appreciated his enthusiasm.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to find new additions to my closet, both for me and for Justin. It was stuffed full, whereas before it had been rather sparse. I sent him an arch look as I noticed the change. He didn’t even seem to notice, looking through my new clothes. He pulled a pair of tiny white cargo shorts off of a hanger, handing them to me. They were shorter than anything I owned. He picked out a little gold tank top with geometric designs printed across it in black and white. He handed it to me without a word.

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