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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year ago

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Built for Love Part 8 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: Ummm this chapter has a little bit of everything... Family, fluff, a bit of smut, slight angst. It also has a time jump because we gotta keep shit movingggg. And I could write 100 chapters of fluff with these two butttt we're here for the drama! lol Also another gif that has nothing to do with anything LOL But I imagine this is what our girl wakes up to every day and I love that for her

Warnings: brief mentions of DV

“So Charlie, are you excited to be back on the stage?” Michael’s mom asked as they settled around Michael’s dining room table for dinner.

Though it was a small affair, the table was weighed down by Donna’s decadent and delicious cooking, his mom cooking both he and Charlotte’s favorites for their goodbye dinner. Once his father had said grace, initial conversations had given way to the sounds of forks and spoons clinking against china as everyone passed dishes and savored Donna’s cooking. Though Michael’s family was used to it, Charlotte’s were too busy stuffing their faces to be much conversationalists.

Her face had been drawn up in a bright smile since her brother, Lauren, and Jazz arrived. The tone around the table was a bittersweet one, joy for Charlotte and this opportunity everyone knew she deserved and needed, but melancholy at having two staples of their respective communities gone, even if it was only a temporary absence.

Between the press tour and preparing to leave, the time had flown by and the move that once seemed so far away was hurtling toward them like a high speed train. Charlotte still found herself shocked that Michael was willing to move with her. As the date inched closer and closer, she half expected him to find an excuse not to accompany her. But that never materialized. Instead, he took it upon himself to do all of the planning. Time to find an apartment? Already done and vetted by Michael. Furnish the place? Interior decorator was already on it with images of both of their homes to capture their respective styles. All day, every day, he sent her restaurants and places he wanted to try, some Charlotte had been to and some she hadn’t, or asked her about her favorite spots to add to the list. His excitement was contagious, which counteracted the stress, dread, and anxiety Charlotte felt. For him, this was just the first of many adventures with the woman he loved. For her, it was returning home after running away. And that was never easy.

“Yea I really am. It’ll be an adjustment for sure. Next two months’ll be crazy. But I… really missed it. I’m coming in a few weeks behind in rehearsals but it’ll be good to be back.”

Michael’s hand, which had rested on her thigh since they sat down, squeezed gently to reassure her, soothing her anxiety.

“Only on the choreo. This girl could perform the show and songs forward and backwards right now if she wanted.”

Charlotte smiled. “He might be right about that. But the choreo is the harder part for me anyway.”

“Yea the girl was born with every talent but rhythm,” Jackson called down the table causing everyone to laugh, Charlotte leaning behind Michael’s chair to flip him off without everyone seeing.

“He never gives her credit. Charlie is a great dancer,” Lauren chimed in, not allowing her husband to joke at her best friend’s expense. “Remember the spring production of Oklahoma our freshman year??”

Charlotte groaned. “Ugh don’t remind me! Some of the worst weeks of my life.”

“What happened?” Michael asked.

“There was a nasty norovirus going around campus and Charlie, one of the only freshmen in Juilliard history to play the coveted lead of a spring production, caught it the second day of rehearsals. Was out for two weeks. The director planned on bumping up her understudy.”

“A senior who despised me and was probably hoping the virus would kill me,” she laughed. “Director said there was noooooo way I could learn the staging and choreo in the two remaining weeks before opening night,” Charlotte interjected, rolling her eyes. “He was just worried he took a chance on a freshman only for her to crash and burn.”

“Since I was dancing in the production, I could record rehearsals. Charlotte watched every rehearsal, learning every move, lyric, and note while she was sick. Sis showed up once she was cleared by the doctor and you wouldn’t have even known she missed two weeks of rehearsals. She looked and sounded better than some folks who’d been to every rehearsal.”

“Messed up one or two steps,” she admitted. “But nothing that couldn’t be fixed in the time we had left.”

“How’d you manage that?”

She shrugged. “I just rehearsed and slept in between trips to the bathroom,” she laughed. “My doctor thought I was completely insane but as they say, ‘the show must go on.’”

“Will you have enough tickets for us all to come to opening night or do we need to come at a different time?” Jackson asked.

“I definitely can get everyone tickets for previews, those start mid February. Not sure how many I can snag for opening night though.”

“What are previews?” Michael’s dad asked.

“Oh, sort of a test run? Just an opportunity to perform the show to audiences before the official opening night. Gives you a chance to work out issues and fix things before critics review it. The show ran off-Broadway first so our previews are only a couple weeks. So we have a month and a half of true rehearsals and then previews and then the show premieres March 1.”

“And how long are you all gonna be there again?”

“In total? 8 months I guess with rehearsals? I only signed on to be on the cast for six months though… March to September.”

“Knowing you, you’ll extend it,” Jackson offered with a knowing smile.

Charlotte shook her head. “I dunno. Chris would love that. But doing 8 shows a week for six months is a lot. And gets old after a while,” she admitted. “Maybe I’d do a different show, but I'll probably come back here. I promised Chris six months so that’s all I’m committing to.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, the conversation drifting away from Charlie and to separate topics. Charlie glanced around the table, a soft content smile on her face as she watched the two groups interact. It was not just each family chatting off to themselves. Lauren and Michael’s mom and sister were deep in a conversation about the struggles of parenting young children; Michael’s brother and Jackson were arguing about the Lakers vs the Clippers; and Jazz and Michael were deeply enthralled in a story told by Michael Sr. And everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there and interact. This was their first time truly combining the groups but she thought it boded well for when they all met the rest of her immediate family on the East Coast. If Jazz, Lauren, and Jackson liked them and fit in, the rest of her family would too.

As dinner winded down, Charlotte stood up from the table to bring out dessert. Michael offered a soft peck to the inside of her wrist, which she returned with one to the top of his head, before she grabbed his plate to take into the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she loaded the dishwasher and pulled out the cake his mom prepared earlier that day. It was Michael’s favorite, her rum cake. Charlie could not deny it was one of the best cakes she had ever tasted, hers included.

As she moved the cake to the island, she lost her balance on her heels, almost falling. She was able to sit the cake down quickly, it wobbled slightly in its glass case but remained unharmed despite her clumsiness.

“There you go, tripping over air,” she cursed herself, annoyed and thankful she had not destroyed his mother’s cake. As she moved the holder on the island, a wave of deja vu hit her, a vision of a cake and cake holder smashing to the ground filling her brain. She paused, studying the glass cake stand, her stiletto-shaped nails gliding over it gently. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, the memory too foggy and distant to make sense of. During most of her deja-vu moments or flashbacks, the memories hit her like she was being forced in front of a movie screen. But as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't think of anything related to this moment.

“You ok, dear?” Donna’s soft voice interrupted Charlotte as she zoomed through the Rolodex of memories in her mind.

“Hm? Oh yea, I’m ok,” Charlotte answered, glancing up. she noticed the plates in the woman’s hands before abandoning her thoughts and grabbing them from her. “Let me get those.”

“Thank you, dear. Your family is lovely. They fit right in,” Donna offered as she moved to grab a knife and small plates for dessert.

Charlotte smiled, “Thanks. I’m excited for all of you to meet the rest of them. Everyone else is fairly tame in comparison,” she joked.

As she loaded their dishwasher, she glanced at his mom.

“This was all delicious, thank you. Thank God he picked up your cooking skills or else we’d starve in New York.”

The older woman laughed. “Well anytime you want to learn, you let me know. Though I think you’d give me a run for my money with those desserts of yours.”

Charlotte could not help but beam a bit at her compliment.

Charlotte dried her hands on a dish towel, anxiously twisting the soft fabric in her hands and chewing on her lip as she watched his mom.

“I hope you don’t mind…” she started, pausing as the older woman looked at her with confusion. “M-Me stealing him away for a while. I’m honestly still a bit surprised he wanted to do this at all. But I know it’s probably hard when he’s gone for a long time. I feel kinda bad?” She admitted quietly. “I know he’s gonna miss you guys so much.” She stared at the wall that blocked Michael and everyone at the table from their vision, her face falling a bit as she felt the guilt of pulling him away from his family and community in LA. Even though he offered, she could not help but question whether she should have accepted it, accepted taking him away from his family like this.

“If I may?” Donna’s hands wrapped around Charlotte’s, halting her anxious movements and towel twisting. “I know it hasn’t been that long but I’ve never seen my son as happy as he is with you. One thing you should never doubt is how much that man in there adores you. I dare say he would try to move a mountain if he thought it’d bring you joy. You should never feel bad for accepting the manifestations of his love and commitment. Because I dare say, this is just the beginning.”

Charlotte felt a tear start to fall, not from sadness but from the love, grace, and compassion his mother always showed her. From the moment they first met to today, she never acted like those dreaded mother-in-laws her married friends moaned about. Charlotte’s mother would not be considered a constant presence in her life, a rarity at best. And through everything she had been through, the one thing she had always hoped for but never had was a mom. Michael’s mom did not know about her mom’s absence but she seemed to recognize it was something Charlie still needed, a mother’s love, support, grace, and word of wisdom. And she offered it in droves.

“T-thank you,” she whispered, whisking the tears away just as Michael rounded the corner to check on them.

“Hey, you two alright?”

“Yes of course, baby.” Her face immediately brightened as he entered the room, not even just to hide her and his mom’s emotional moment but just from his presence. “Just hounding your mom for this amazing rum cake recipe so I can make it for you in New York…”

“But… I told her she’s gotta be officially in the family first for me to share it. So get to it,” she whispered to Bakari with a sly smile and a peck on the cheek as she returned to the dining room with the rest of the family.

“Damn, she’s not subtle at all, is she?” he asked as he grabbed the cake while Charlotte grabbed the plates his mom pulled out.

Charlotte laughed, patting him on the chest as she passed him to return to the dining room. “No, definitely not.”

***

Their moans created an orchestra filling his bedroom as Michael kept Charlotte’s eyes trained on his as he fucked her slow and deep.

They rarely had sex in missionary these days, both of them finding other positions far more interesting and fun. However, when they were both in the mood for something slower and more sensual, missionary hit the spot for both of them. It offered them something deeper than pure pleasure. It was an intimacy and comfort they both needed for their last night in Michael’s bed for a while.

Looking into each other’s eyes was a meeting of the minds, beyond merely connecting with their bodies, they connected with their souls. They saw all of each other, all of the excitement, anxiety, joy, and fear of what tomorrow would hold for them. And every moment, every movement and touch between them was an effort to honor those feelings. Every touch and whispered adoration told the other that they were here and they were ready for everything the universe had in store for them.

There would be time for fast and wild later. Tonight, they were just cherishing the moment and each other before their first real adventure as a couple began.

“J-Just li-like that. F-Fuck, I-I love you,” she moaned, having already lost count of her orgasms as Michael pushed her to the edge of another one.

She could tell he was close as he picked up the pace a bit. Her hips rocked slightly to meet his, her core pulsing and tightening around him causing a primitive moan to escape him.

It only took a moment for him to fill her before he rolled off of her.

“You good?” He asked, a question he usually asked when they finished up, whether the session was slow and sensual or had her doing acrobatics. And the answer was always in the same vein: she was more than good.

“Excellent. I could fall asleep j-just like this,” she yawned, knowing that her sleep after sex was always elite, Michael tiring her out to the point where she could not do much else. However, before she did, she got up to go to the bathroom, Michael talking to her as she groped her way through the darkness of his room.

“You ready for tomorrow?” He asked as he found his briefs to slide on and climb back into bed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she called back. “You sure you still wanna come? Not too late to back out. Well, we signed a lease, on a way too expensive apartment, I might add… so it’s a bit late. But you could still do it.”

Though her tone had the intent of a joke, Michael could still hear it, her hesitation and fear that let him know she was still concerned he would abandon her. He knew she would not truly believe him until they were moved in and settled but he was genuinely excited to go with her. Not just to support her and provide her with some sense of safety while she was there, but to witness this next stage in her career. This was her dream and he saw no better use of his time than watching her fulfill it. He knew why she was hesitant, they had only been dating for mere months. However, when he looked at Charlotte, he saw a perfect glittering gold path to a future he had never given much thought to because he had always been too focused on the hustle, a marriage and a family like the one his parents had built. To him, this was one step down that path and he would never regret taking it. Part of him was annoyed he would have to return to LA in June for another project before her time in New York ended but he decided he would savor the initial six months of uninterrupted time together.

“You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, honey bee. And after living with me in New York, maybe that’ll convince you to move in with me when we get back?” He asked as she washed her hands.

She poked her head out into the room to look at him, finding that his face matched the seriousness of his tone and words.

“What? Y-You want me to move in? Here?”

He continued to surprise her with his level of commitment and dedication overall. However, just as she was about to doubt he truly meant it, his mother’s words floated back to her mind.

"Well, it wouldn't be here forever. Just till we found a new spot… something that's ours," he emphasized. “We’re gonna live together for at least 6 months in New York… if it works out and you don’t absolutely hate me by the end,” he joked, “Why not? What? You don’t think we should?"

She shrugged as she climbed back into his bed. “No, no, I’m not saying that at all. I mean I basically live here as it is,” she admitted. “I g-guess I just didn’t think about what living together in New York would mean for when we got back? Of course, you thought of it though. You think ahead and have a plan for everything.”

Michael was glad she could not see his face as she settled against his chest. She truly had no idea how far ahead his planning went when it came to her.

“Well, I just know what I want and I don’t believe in wasting time. But I’m not sayin’ you gotta decide now or anything. Let’s see how New York goes. I just wanted to see if you’d be interested in it.”

“Yea, I’m interested.”

He nodded. “Now are you gonna tell me what you and my momma were talking about earlier? You looked upset?”

Charlotte chuckled, she turned over so her chest was against his, her ear pressed against his chest. The light thumps of his heart filled her ear like a soothing drumbeat. “I should’ve known you weren’t gonna let that go… I wasn’t upset. She j-just said something I needed to hear.”

She felt his lips press against the top of her head, her eyes falling closed for a moment. She appreciated that he did not press any further for information.

“Yea, I don't know how she does that. It's kinda creepy, honestly… that mother's intuition."

“Yea, its like she sees into your soul or something." Her last words turned into a mumble as she yawned and her eyes fell closed.

All Michael could do was chuckle before kissing her forehead and falling asleep himself, her gentle snores filling his ears.

***

Charlotte glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their new apartment on the edge of the Upper West Side. It was as beautiful and pristine as the pictures Michael had shown her. They were high enough to have a great view of the city from their balcony. It was in the perfect location too for work and there was so much around for her and Michael to do. The furnishings were perfect, the exact mix of her and Michael’s individual interior style. She knew he hired a designer but it was clear the person knew their shit. The house already felt warm, cozy, and safe, all the things Charlotte needed, and they had only been in it for an hour.

“What are you thinking?” He asked from the couch as he scrolled through his phone, both of them avoiding the dreaded unpacking they had to do.

“I’m thinking about my crappy little studio apartment when I first graduated… and my two bedroom with one of my college friends for those few months…” she paused, that apartment was a graveyard of bad memories. “Before I moved. I’ve j-just come up in the world, I guess.”

Bakari beckoned her to him, the young woman leaving her perch against the window to join him. The moment she was in arm’s length, he gently pulled her down onto his lap, Charlotte nestling into him with ease.

“This place is insane, Bakari. I mean I love it but I still think it’s too much,” she remarked, she raised her hands as if to surrender, knowing she was bringing up a touchy subject for them both.

“Aht aht. We came to an agreement on that,” he lightly kissed her bare shoulder.

She nodded, neither of them wanting to fall back into their first true argument of their relationship a few months earlier.

“So what do you think?”

Charlotte laughed. “I think I could fit 5 or 6 of my first apartment in that place,” she gestured toward his laptop as he flipped through photos of a high-rise three-bedroom apartment. “I mean it’s gorgeous but I don’t think I can afford it.”

“Yea but I can. It’s perfect. Really solid security, there’s only one apartment on each floor so it’s pretty private. And it's only 15 minutes from the theaters so when you finish up evening shows, it’s not a long drive. It’s perfect for us. Don’t think about the cost. Do you like it?”

“Yes, I love it but,” she chuckled. “Creed was my first real check in two years, babe. And I still gotta pay for my apartment here. I don’t really have the luxury of not thinking about the cost of things.”

“Ok but I’m sayin’ you don’t have to think about it cause I got it.”

“Well how much do you want me to contribute a month? If we go 50/50, it would be tight but I could swing it then, I guess.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “ I wasn’t expecting you to contribute anything. We ain’t roommates, Els.”

She shook her head, pushing off of the couch to pace in his living room, her annoyance officially rising. Finances continued to be a touchy subject for the pair. However, usually, Charlotte only put up so much of a fight before she gave in. But she could not give in on this, not today.

“It’s one thing for you to always pay for dinners and shit like that but you can’t pay all of our rent while we’re there. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why can’t I?” He asked, his tone signaling that he did not understand the seriousness of the conversation for Charlotte in the slightest. He still did not quite understand her hang up with finances. He knew it was part of the cycle of abuse but he had no problem spending money on her if need be. She had only just stopped fighting him on paying for dates. Though he was not the type of celebrity who blew all of his money on frivolous things, Michael also did not pretend money was a significant consideration in his decisions because it just wasn’t. And he would never apologize for wanting to spend his money on her, for wanting to support her.

“B-Because I…” Charlotte stopped herself from finishing the sentence, Don’t want you to be able to control me that way. But she knew that was not his way.“T-then it’s y-your house a-and not mine. I-I would just feel more comfortable i-if you let me contribute something. L-Let me pay for half? Besides, you’re gonna be in LA sometimes, full time in the summer. You shouldn’t pay the full amount every month like you’re gonna be there the whole time.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Charlotte. I don’t need your money and I don’t want it.” His tone signaled that he hoped to get the final word in and end the discussion.

She could not help but feel frustrated like he was not hearing her. But she understood why he did not see this situation through her eyes. “I-It’s not about you n-needing it!” She cried out, Michael suddenly realizing her unexpected outburst meant more simmered beneath the surface than her just wanting to contribute. She took a deep breath, not wanting to start an argument with him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

He rubbed her shoulders and nodded, “Ok just breath for a second, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would bother you this much. I just.. I wanted you to have a serene, safe place to live and work while you’re there a-and I wasn’t gonna ask you to pay because money wasn’t a factor when I chose it. I just want you to be comfortable while we’re there.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew she shouldn’t push him on the finances piece so much. But she refused to ever let a man hold her livelihood over her head again. Where she laid her head was important and even though she stayed at Michael’s most of the time, she could at least retreat to her home if she ever needed it. She did not want the only place she had to lay her head to be not in her control at all.

“Look, I-I appreciate it. That place is beautiful a-and perfect. I love it, truly. But… t-this is the first time I’m living with a guy since Shaun a-and the a-amount of times he held t-the fact that it w-was his h-house instead of mine o-over me…” she exhaled deeply as if she could release the memories into the air with her breath. “I-If I d-don’t contribute something then it’ll be your house and not ours. I k-know you don’t need it o-or want it. But I need it. I need it to feel like I have an equal claim to it. Please.”

At that, Michael decided not to push any further. He understood her triggers were real and legitimate and if it gave her a sense of autonomy and control to pay him, he would not let his ego get in the way of that.

“Understood. I’m sorry,” he kissed her cheek. “I didn’t think about that. This’ll be our home and I want you to feel like it. How about you deal with all the utilities and I get the rent?”

She could not help but laugh a bit at his “compromise.” “Those things aren’t comparable at all, babe,” she muttered.

“Monetarily? Nah. But what’s the point of an apartment without lights, wifi, gas, water?” he listed. “All of those are necessities too and without them, this would be a pretty terrible apartment.”

They squared off for a moment before she nodded, realizing he budged about as far as he was willing to on the subject.

“Deal.”

“We came to an agreement, yes. But don’t think for a second I like it. Anytime you wanna accept that 50/50 split, let me know.”

Michael gave her a peck on the nose.

“Not gonna happen. Let me treat you to this one thing, baby. But what could happen is us christening some of this furniture?” His eyebrow raised suggestively, his intentions clear in his words.

Charlotte smiled slyly. “I like the sound of that… if we start with the counter.”

***

“Charlotte. Baby. Stop eating your breakfast like it’s a drive by. Sit, relax, and eat. You got plenty of time. Don’t have to be there for another hour.”

Charlotte nearly catapulted out of bed that morning, a wrecking ball of nervous energy flitting around their apartment. Michael did not know how she was moving so quickly and chaotically, since all she did was toss and turn the night before. And as soon as the Sun was up, she was out of bed and out on a run through the neighborhood. And when she returned, their bed quickly turned into a wreckage of clothes, the young woman changing her outfit no less than 10 times.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Michael asked as Charlotte forced herself to sit at the island and eat Michael’s apple cinnamon pancakes, her favorite, and a couple pieces of bacon. Though this was her favorite breakfast meal, she found it difficult to eat, believing her time would be better served practicing or running her lines again rather than just sitting there.

She scratched her head as she stuffed her face quickly, her eyes zooming across her sheet music. “Couple hours. Lots of tossing and turning before I just gave up and reviewed the music again.”

Michael laughed, “You know every song by heart, even the ones that aren’t yours. You’re gonna be great today.”

She shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.” She glanced at her watch and bit her lip before abandoning her half eaten breakfast. “Thanks for this, Bakari, but I think I should go practice the songs one more time. The run in the Act I closer is fuckin’ killing me. I can’t get it just right a-and if Chris has us practice that part today, I don’t want to look stupid.” She paused her ranting to practice the chorus and run right there as she paced by the counter. She sounded flawless in Michael’s opinion but he could tell she hated it the way her whole face scrunched up in frustration. “See? Can’t get it. But you know… maybe I should practice my ballad first though… it would make sense he’d want to start there since it’s earlier in the show. Do I have time to do both…” She was no longer talking to Michael, only rambling and muttering to herself as her questions about which song to use her precious last few minutes to practice started to become inter spliced with actual lyrics from the songs as she studied the music while she walked through their home. “Babe! Have you seen my script?? Maybe I should run through all my lines for Act 1?” She checked her watch. “I s-should’ve used the time last night to do that. UGH.”

Her incoherent stream of consciousness and half singing were interrupted by Michael who put himself in the path of Hurricane Charlotte and their bedroom. Her favorite room to practice in was the bathroom because the acoustics were the best in the house. Imagine his confusion and slight amusement when, the first thing she did when they arrived after throwing her bags down, she started singing her ballad in every single room to test the sound quality before deciding the bathroom was the best option.

It had not been 24 hours yet and he already learned one critical thing about her: she was a perfectionist chaotic nutcase. He had never seen this “behind the scenes” look into her process and work ethic. When they worked on Creed, she showed up to set every day the picture of an actor, in the zone, focused, and ready to work. He had never seen what it took to get to that picture and it was a perfect frenzy that he could not hope to understand or follow if he tried.

And still, he found that her perfectionist nature that drove all the practice and ramblings only made him fall deeper in love with her. He imagined this is what he looked like to his friends and family when he was prepping for a role, so much energy and time spent to become someone else and embody their souls and personas. So much attention to detail and time rehearsing to give each moment in front of the camera your all. This was so much like that, and yet so much harder because Charlotte could not just yell cut to redo something. Every night she got on that stage, she had one opportunity to show her talent at its fullest. He could completely understand why she pushed herself as hard as she did.

“Honeybee… you gotta calm down. No more practicing,” he grabbed the sheet music out of her hand, Charlotte offering mild protests as he walked to her bag and slid them inside, secretly adding a little card of his own. “You still have weeks of rehearsals. Keep doing this and you’ll lose your voice,” he warned, his lips twitching from the laugh he forced himself to stifle at the look of objective horror on her face, as if she had never even considered that was a possibility. But he imagined for her, losing her voice was the worst type of illness she could have. “Exactly. Rest the vocals for a bit. Sit, finish your breakfast and we’ll drive to the theater together.”

With his hands on her hips, he steered her back to the island for the third time that morning and watched her sit down to resume eating, this time far slower and more measured.

“You don’t gotta take me like a child headed to kindergarten for the first day, dad,” she bemused with a soft smile. “I’ll be good.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

She nodded, talk of Michael’s plans for the day filled the rest of breakfast before she grabbed her bag, filled with her script, sheet music, and mid-day snack. Michael had to stop her from triple checking her bag before he slid a perfectly made chai in her hands and ushered her out the door.

He kept his hand on hers as their driver took them the short ride to Abernathy Theater. She had not told Michael but she had performed in this very theater in her very first Broadway production out of college. It felt like a full circle moment to be back there.

“Ok, this is it, babe. You got this,” he kissed her on the lips. “Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight.”

“Thanks, love. See you tonight.” She took a deep breath before gathering her things and exiting the car.

Charlotte glanced back at the black car before she opened the theater door, the window rolled down, to find Michael giving her a thumbs up as if he knew she would need an extra push to walk through the door. She knew her nerves were somewhat foolish. She had spent the better part of her life in theaters and on the stage. And yet, she still felt like a fish outta water. So much time had passed, so much life had happened. Chris thought she still had what it took but would everyone else? She had given up this dream. And though she had never admitted this out loud, she felt so much shame for how easily she had casted it aside and resigned to leaving it to die behind her. As she walked through the theater, her first time in one in over two years, she questioned whether she even deserved this second chance at it after she had squandered the first one, regardless of her reasoning for doing so.

But now as she walked through the theater, taking in the opulence of the insanely tall ceilings and their perfectly preserved murals, the dazzling gold arches and trims, and the sea of ruby-colored seats, she knew one fact to be true. No one and nothing would tear her away from this dream this time. She had breathed new life into it and she would not lose it again.

“Charlotte!”

Her visual survey was interrupted by Chris who waved at her from the stage. She smiled and made quick work of making her way to the stage where he waited.

“It’s so good to see you,” he mused, pulling her into a tight hug. “The rest of the cast is trickling in. But I wanted to show you around personally and introduce you to everyone. I’ll take you backstage.”

He looped his arm around hers and led her backstage, the two laughing and chatting like old friends as he took her around and introduced her to everyone. He was showing her her dressing room when a familiar man’s voice filled her ears.

“The prodigal daughter of Broadway returns… You know I took bets on when you’d be back.”

Charlotte whipped around to find Malcolm Roberts, one of her costars, leaning against the doorway, his usual sly smirk etched on his face.

She sauntered up to him, a similar smirk falling on her face. “And? Is the Tony award winning Malcolm Roberts poorer or richer these days?”

“Richer…” At her surprised expression, he shrugged. “I learned a long time ago to always bet on you.”

She laughed and immediately pulled him into a tight hug, the man lifting her feet slightly off the ground.

“It’s so good to see you. I owe you dinner so you can catch me up on everything,” he said as they hugged. “You look amazing, still as gorgeous as ever.”

Malcolm had been in her last production before she moved. She followed his career after leaving theater and his star had only risen higher and higher, as he deserved. And now, he would be playing directly alongside her and she couldn’t have been more pleased. If there was one person she trusted undoubtedly to act alongside, besides Michael, it would be Malcolm.

“Thank you! Should’ve known Chris would call in the heavyweight champ,” she laughed.

He merely shrugged. “A friend calls and I answer. That's how he got you outta hibernation too?” He asked as they walked to the practice room for rehearsal, their banter drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the team as they worked to build the set and gathered props around them.

“Naturally. One day you’ll have to tell us how you convince everyone to do whatever you want?” Charlotte told Chris who merely smiled slyly.

“Win me another Tony and I’ll tell all my secrets.”

The two actors glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. “As if you need anymore!”

“Does your house even have room for another one and that big head of yours?” Malcolm teased as Charlotte snorted.

“Well, my partner says I can’t convert the kids’ room to a trophy room. So I guess when you two are done sweeping, I’ll have to buy a new house.” He winked at the both of them before grabbing his assistant director to chat, leaving Malcolm and Charlotte alone.

“How was the move?” He asked as he interlaced his arm with Charlotte’s as they walked.

“Oh totally fine. Michael took care of everything, of course. All I did was say yes or no.”

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend, aka my wife and sister’s celebrity crush. Remind me never to invite the two of you over for dinner?” Charlotte let out a deep belly laugh. “But I’m glad to hear it. Looks like you found yourself a good one?”

“Yea… I think I did.”

She raised her eyebrow as he stopped walking to study her for a moment, his face drawn up in a look of pride and something else she could not place. Understanding? Knowing? She could not read it. However, before she could ask him, he merely patted her hand, which rested on his arm and said, “Well no one deserves that more than you.”

Before she could inquire more, they arrived at their rehearsal space, each of them settling into their spots. Chris did quick work of introducing Charlotte to everyone else who she hadn’t met and embarrassing her with his praise. She was thankful when it was all over and everyone started to pull out their scripts and sheet music to run through Act I.

As she pulled out her materials, a small card fell out of the stack and onto the table. She picked it up and examined the card, Honey Bee written out on the front in Michael’s handwriting. She half listened to Chris share notes and information from the last rehearsal as she slid the stationary out of its envelope.

I would say good luck but I know you don’t need it. You’re gonna kill it, as you always do, and remind everyone there today and in this world, who you are. Take a deep breath and remember you, not only deserve this moment but, you were made for it.

Love,

Your biggest fan

If she had not been in a room filled with people, she would have bursted into tears. She slid the note back in her bag after reading it once more and taking the deep breath he instructed her to. She grabbed her phone as the cast started the table read and sent a quick but simple text.

Thank you ♥️♥️

She knew she did not need to elaborate and that he would recognize the meaning. Not a whole minute passed before her phone buzzed with a similar simplistic response.

Anytime.

***

A month later

“Oof, that’s it. That’s the right spot,” Charlotte moaned as Michael massaged her aching limbs. “You got the magic touch, baby.” Her eyes lulled closed as he did the Lord’s work, kneading and massaging the tense spots on her legs and back after another long day of rehearsals. "First show is in two days and I can barely feel my legs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of her spine before continuing his work.

Though Charlotte did not mind the quiet, the silence that settled over them both as he worked, she found it odd. Most evenings, she and Michael never stopped talking, the pair catching the other up on any and everything from the moment she walked into the door until the moment they fell asleep. However, today, Michael’s head seemed to be elsewhere.

“You ok?” She inquired.

“Y-Yea, yea. I’m good.”

She laughed. “I know you well enough to know when you’re good, Bakari. What’s wrong?” She gestured for him to move so she could sit up. She slid her robe over her nude body and slid into his lap.

“I just had an interesting call with Ryan today.”

“Oh? Got another project for you?”

“Actually, yea.”

She motioned for more details, unsure why he was being so coy and secretive. “Ok… you gotta give me more than that, babe. What’s the role? And why are you acting like he threatened to kill you?”

“It’s a Marvel project.”

Her eyes immediately grew wide. She gracefully tumbled out of his lap and onto her knees, excitement filling her previously lethargic body. While she had only just started to get into anime thanks to Michael, both of them bonded over their love for comics. Growing up with her brother, she and Jackson spent far too much time in the comic book store and she made a point to see every Marvel movie that came out.

“It’s Black Panther, isn’t it??” She squealed, her excitement radiating off of her.

“How’d you guess that so fast??”

She scoffed and smiled. “Marvel’s been talking to Black directors for months for that project. A-and Civil War is coming out soon with Chadwick. Ohh,” she shook his shoulders. “You HAVE to do it, baby.”

He laughed, getting up to go into their in-suite bathroom. “You don’t even know what the role is, love.”

She shrugged, following behind him with an extra pep in her step. She did not understand how he wasn’t more excited about this.

“I mean I could sit here and go through all the Black Panther comic lore if you’d like and guess. But that’ll just make you horny,” she teased, knowing Michael got a little too excited when she put on her nerdy hat and talked comics. “And my legs hurt too much for acrobatics with you today. Why aren’t you excited? You said yes, right?? He wouldn’t’ve called unless the role was yours.”

He pushed himself up to sit on the bathroom counter. “I want to say yes, the role is fantastic a-and his vision is spectacular. I s-spent the whole day reading up on the character and everything. It would be a game changer for sure.”

“Of course it would. But I sense a but coming?” Her hands inched up his warm bare chest and wrapped around his neck as she stood between his legs.

“I’d have to go back to LA for a couple days to screen test with Chad and a couple of the other confirmed actors, meet with the execs… and between Kevin Feige’s schedule, Ryan’s and Chadwick’s… only one week before like June works for everyone.”

At the annoyed and guilty look on his face, Charlotte immediately understood. “Opening weekend of the show?” She prayed she was wrong but at the small nod, she let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Yea. A-and I don’t want to miss that, Els. It’s such a big deal and I moved here to be all in on us and support you. I asked Ryan if we could find a different date or if we could do something out here instead but I dunno yet. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want to disappoint you if it’s not a sure thing.”

“Babe. I so appreciate you and that you even thought to consider me and the show before saying yes. But you can’t put your career on hold for me. This is the MCU, babe, I would miss opening night of my own show for Kevin Feige. You have to go.”

Michael’s jaw almost unhinged at her statement. That was not what he was expecting at all. And when he searched her face for a hint of disappointment or sadness, he failed to find any. Her joy for him was natural and authentic, not the forced type people give when they are trying to hide their own emotions.

“What??”

“I’m joking,” she amended but she quickly shook her head. “Actually I’m not. I would totally ditch schmoozing investors and the nausea of waiting for reviews for Marvel,” she laughed. “Seriously though, I’m gonna be doing 8 shows a week for months. You’ll see me on stage so many times, you’ll get sick of my voice and the show. You don’t have to be there opening night to support me. Honestly, I’d rather have you there the first night of previews in a couple days so you can see me on stage for the first time anyway. Opening night is only a big deal in that critics can finally review the show. And there’s a party for the cast and producers and investors and all that shit. You moved across the country to support me. That’s all I need.”

She walked back into their bedroom and grabbed his phone, her slippers shuffling lightly against the floor as she went.. She held it out to him. “Call Ryan.”

“Babe… I just don’t feel right abandoning you on such a big night.”

She tilted her head to study him. She found that she was not just saying those words because she knew she should not stop him from pursuing an opportunity. She actually meant it. Now that she was back in the swing of things, her anxiety had eased quite a bit. It had only been a few weeks but she had not seen or heard a peep out of Shaun, her promo for the show being reduced to one mention in a Broadway.com article, thankfully. And she knew she would have to handle a few days here and there without him before they got there. It was still early so she was still beyond thankful to have him there, but she could survive a couple days without him if he was needed elsewhere.

“You aren’t abandoning me. You’re following your dreams, you’re moving your career forward. Ryan picked you, the role is yours. Meeting with the execs and a couple screen tests are the only hurdles you gotta clear. And you shouldn't put that off. Would I love to look out into that crowd and see you opening night, sure. But would I prefer to see you snag a killer role in what is already a highly anticipated project, 100%. I know you’ll be there in spirit.”

“You sure you aren’t gonna secretly hate me?”

“I could never hate you. Besides, shit like this is gonna happen… we’re both two busy body ass actors. We aren’t always gonna be able to be there physically but I know you’ll be cheering me on as I will for you.”

His phone still hovered in her hand between them, Charlotte giving him an cocky grin before unlocking it and finding Ryan’s number for him.

“You sure?”

“I’m giving you the push you gave me. Call him and tell him he’s got his Killmonger. Hopefully he doesn’t bust your fuckin’ ear drums like Chris did mine.”

His eyes grew wide. “How’d you do that shit?? I never even said his name.”

She chuckled as she turned to walk back into their room, her shoulders shrugged. “It was a lucky guess… that you just confirmed,” she smirked at him. “Now…” she sexily allowed her robe to open and slide off her shoulders, the silk fabric pooling to the floor around her feet. “Don’t stay on the phone with him too long.”

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, his thumb hovering over the call button. “I thought you were too tired?”

She shrugged. “Consider it the last bit of encouragement you need to make that call.” She winked at him before sauntering off to their bed, delighting in the way his eyes followed her perfect ass as she climbed onto their bed.

***

“Well, I think that part could use a bit more emotion from both of us?” Charlotte remarked as she and Malcolm reviewed their notes from earlier in the day.

The stage was filled with chaos as many in the company practiced off to one side while the staging and lighting folks tried to get everything ready for their last rehearsal before previews started the next evening. Rebecca and Jonathan, the supporting actors in the play, were tucked in a corner just like Malcolm and Charlotte reviewing their lines.

“For sure. We shouldn’t hold back. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. All that pent up aggression and anger and hurt… it really should feel like something is simmering beneath the surface and then an explosion on stage before the number.”

Before Charlotte could agree with him and practice a bit more, Chris’s voice grabbed their attention.

“Heads up, everyone! So don’t hate me. But a lot of the investors can’t make previews tomorrow night but they want a peek before opening night so they asked if they could sit in on rehearsal after the producers’ meeting happening upstairs. Should be wrapping up in about 15 minutes. So we will have a small but mighty,” he emphasized, “Audience today. So everyone should give this their all and we’re gonna do it in our costumes. Go get changed. Sorry for the change of plans.”

Light mumbles and grumbles could be heard through the company as everyone filed back into their dressing rooms. Charlotte and Malcolm merely shared a smirk, the actor whispering to Charlotte, “The investors and producers say jump…”

“And we say ‘how high?” she grimaced with an eye roll before shutting the door to her dressing room. This was the only part of her job she hated, schmoozing people whose only credentials for being there was the hefty check they wrote. Charlotte’s outfit was quick work, a simple dress, cardigan, and heels so it did not take long for her to change.

She sang a few chords to herself, warming up her voice, while she waited for the backstage cue to return to the wings of the stage. When the lights flashed, she made her way to the wings, stopping by Malcolm who had his face drawn up in a grimace. She was thankful to find another actor who also hated the politics of it all. She followed his line of sight to the parted curtains, revealing center stage where Chris stood with a group of men in suits. They quickly reminded her of all of the men she met at Shaun's office parties and events, her distaste had not changed. Most of their backs were turned to them until Chris noticed the entire company was assembled and waiting and waved them over.

“Let the jumping begin,” Malcolm moaned lightly as they all started walking toward the group of powerful and wealthy men.

“And these are the stars of our show, Charlotte Bennett, Malcolm Roberts, Rebecca Sloan, and Jonathan Rivers,” Chris gestured toward all of them, the group turning around to greet them.

However, the bright smile that Charlotte put on as she pulled on her dazzling actress persona immediately fell as her eyes locked with one of the men. Her movements halted, her entire body going cold and rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her.

Everything around her went silent as if someone had pressed the mute button, she could not even hear her pounding heart in her ears. But she could feel it, beating against her rib cage as it threatened to burst out of her chest. She forgot where she was, who she was, as he offered her a menacing and knowing smirk.

Instinctively, she took a step back, increasing the distance between them as the rest of the cast continued forward to introduce themselves. Only one person noticed her change in demeanor, her low, shallow breaths that were drowned out by pleasantries and greetings.

Malcolm touched her shoulder, Charlotte almost jumping out of her skin with shock, finally taking her eyes off of a man she never expected to see here of all places, in her safe space.

“You good? Look like you saw a ghost,” he chuckled nervously, though his eyes were filled with concern.

Her mouth felt bone dry, the words caught in her throat but she forced them out anyway.

“No, no. Not a g-ghost. J-just…” she shook her head. “I… um, just need a minute? Tell C-Chris I’m r-running to the b-bathroom. N-not feeling great.”

She turned and rushed out of the theater, her legs carrying her as fast as they could without breaking into an all out run until she found herself near a concession stand in the deserted lobby. She needed as much distance as she could between herself and him. She stopped and leaned against the counter, her hand pressed into her chest as she tried to calm herself. She wondered if she would have rather seen an actual ghost. That would have been less terrifying than what awaited her back in that theater, a different monster haunting her from her past.

Shaun Parker.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: So good news… we got some fluff!! Bad news… some niggas we don't like have found their way back. Thanks for reading! *drops this off and runs away*

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut #mbj fanfic #mbjedit

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gaybananabread · 1 year ago

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TickleTober Day 29 - Wake Up!

@hexalianrebel-blackfeathers - Definitely 29 (Wake Up!) with Hobie getting tickled awake one too many times by Gwen, Pavitr, and/or Miles. I admit I wouldn't be able to pick just one.

Why choose? I’ve got a feeling it’d probably take all of them to get his ass good, and why not revenge it? Got a little carried away with this one, but I’m pretty happy with how it came out! Used a few of Panda's hcs too! Sorry for the all the lateness recently, it’s been quite the month (O_Ou) Anyhow, I’ve loved writing these spider sillies for you, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Hobie, brief Gwen

Lers: Miles, Gwen, Pavitr

Summary: There’s one golden rule in Hobie’s house boat; don’t wake him up. His friends always break that rule. Deciding to be brats, the spider kids tickle Hobie awake once again. After he recovers, he takes a little revenge.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!

In Hobie's boat, there was a spoken and unspoken rule. One that his friends could never seem to follow, no matter how many times he snipped at them for it.

Don't wake him up.

Every single time he lets one of them crash at his place, he winds up awake way before he wanted to be. Sometimes it's an accident, like a loud sneeze, broken cereal bowl or random floor squeak. Other times, though, it was 100% intentional. Times like that one.

Hobie was peacefully sleeping, draped over his couch. The other three had stayed the night, so he of course offered up his bed. The punk was tall, meaning he needed a bigger bed. The mattress comfortably fit the three of them, and he could live on the couch. He'd rather have his friends be comfy anyway.

He was planning on sleeping in. True, noon is a bit late, but he had goofed around most the night with the other spider kids; couple that with a full day of patrolling, and you'll know that he deserved a nice rest.

Gwen had been the first to wake up, her father's old work schedule sticking with her. It was nearly nine, but still. She quickly got bored, and not wanting to be the only one awake, poked Pav's sides. He slowly woke, grabbing at her hands and giggling.

Giggling... Bingo. It would probably get her killed, but Gwen had a wonderful idea. "Hey Pav, how much do you value your sanity?"

He rubbed his sides, still a bit put off by the light tickling. "Uhum, it depends? What do you have in mind?" The mischievous look on her face, while endearing, sent a small chill down his spine. That look only meant one thing, though it wasn't aimed at him this time.

"I think Hobie deserves a special good morning. For letting us stay over, you know?" Pavitr sighed, knowing exactly what she had in mind. “Are you even a small bit worried about his revenge? He has told us many times over to just let him sleep.” He wanted to add that her idea would only get them “tortured,” but the thought made his cheeks go pink. It wouldn’t be that bad...probably.

The next to get roped into her plan was Miles. He got a much nicer wake-up call; Gwen was a bit too flustered to tickle him awake. She opted for poking his cheek until he groaned. “Mmmph…wah?” The boy slowly sat up, immediately picking up on the playful vibe in the room. Should be fun, whatever it was. “What’re you two planning, and can I get in on it?”

One hushed, giggly conversation later, they had a plan. A very stupid, silly plan that would undoubtedly backfire, but a plan.

Pavitr inched towards the sleeping punk, regretting his offer to pin him. If even one floorboard squeaked, or if Hobie’s spider sense went off too early, he would be a dead man. A giggly dead man, but a dead man nonetheless. Slowly, he raised his wrists, firing off a few webs at Hobie’s long arms. The punk shifted, but other than that, he didn’t react. Whew…

Miles and Gwen, the cowards, crept into the room behind him. Now that Hobie was restrained, they had no chance of being punished for their actions. “Nice job, Pav. You wanna do the honors?” The bubbly teen shook his head, backing away. “Oh no. I did the dirty work. You seal your own fates.”

Chuckling, Miles approached Hobie; he was feeling brave. He could feel the anarchist stir as he straddled his waist. It was clear he didn’t want to get up, regardless of what was happening. Miles placed his hand on Hobie’s stomach, slowly curling his fingers on the taunt skin. Hobie’s eyes fluttered open, a small glare on his face. The teen just smirked. “‘Sup, Hobie.”

The punk growled, tugging at his arms. Gwen giggled, Pavitr moving behind her to avoid his gaze. “You little shits… What’d I say ‘bout waking me up?” The hell…? Oh. They pinned his arms with web fluid. They were double dead now. “Al’ight, which one a’ yous planned this?”

Pav, ever loyal, pointed to Gwen behind her back. She swatted his hand away, laughing. “Ihit was a group effort! Morning, Hobs!”

He huffed, looking down at Miles’ fingers for just a second. “You lot are dead as doorknobs.” That would have been a believable threat if a smile wasn’t threatening to come out. Just thinking about the slow fingers on his stomach were getting to him, though he’d never admit it.

“Sure, sure. Who’s the one pinned under who, Hobie?” Oh, that cocky little- “Miles, I would not push our luck!” At least Pav had some sense. He would go easy on the teen when he took his revenge. Maybe. “It’s cool. Hobie isn’t going anywhere.”

“When I get outta this, you’re all gonna-” Miles cut him off with wiggling fingers, finally attacking the hero’s midsection. Hobie suppressed a squeal, snapping his mouth shut to block the silly sounds from escaping. He thrashed and tugged at the webs, almost bucking Miles off him. The smug teen yelped, hanging onto the couch for dear life. “Hey guys! Little help?”

Gwen quickly ran over to assist, knowing what would happen if Hobie got free; she wasn’t ready for their fun to end so quickly. Hopping on the couch, she sat on his thighs, back-to-back with Miles. “I gotcha! Here, lemme just-” She skittered her nails along his calf, knowing softer tickles worked better on his legs. The stoic boy cracked, bass-sounding giggles rumbling in his chest. Even his giggling was cool…

“Y-youhuhu aharse! Gehe’ ohohoff!” He tried kicking his legs out, but with Gwen on his thighs, he could only squirm. Miles was wasting no time, digging into his stomach and scribbling on his navel. Gwen, on the other hand, was being torturously gentle. It was a small mercy that Pavitr hadn’t joined them, still hesitant on whether or not the punk was okay with it all.

Why did he have to be so nice? Hobie wouldn’t say he was enjoying the silly interaction. He would never, ever admit say something like that. The teasing teens were just enjoying a small joke with him. A joke they would be paid back for, with interest, but a fun game all the same. Who was he to deny them that small pleasure? “Y-youhu’re wahastin’ prehecious time thehere, Pavi! Ihihi’m gohonna kill all ohof you whehen I gehet loose, mihihight as wehehell have sohome fuhuhun!”

The concerned teen needed no more encouragement. He practically bounced over to where Hobie’s arms were pinned, ready to wreak havoc on his nervous system. Pav knew that Hobie had to be in the right mood for them all to tickle him; thankfully, he was. Ten eager fingers dug into Hobie’s hollows, pulling a squeak from his full lips.

Okay, he was regretting that decision. Hobie tried to curl up, tug his arms free, anything to gain the upper hand on the teens “attacking” him. Pav’s webs held strong though, Gwen’s hold on his legs surprisingly sturdy. While he was completely occupied, Gwen was growing a bit bored with the sort-of-loud laughter. She felt like being a menace; the big reactions were what she was after.

Hobie’s eyes widened when he felt Gwen messing with his boot’s laces. “GW-GWEHEHEN! DOHON’ YOUHU FUHUHUCKIN’ DAHAHARE!” Two pairs of eyes quickly moved to Hobie’s legs, the boys wanting to see what would happen next. Pavitr knew that was a bad spot, but Miles was the most inexperienced with Hobie. It would be funny to see his reaction.

Gwen, knowing he would do anything to get her off, laid across his legs. Hopefully her weight and strength would be enough to keep him down. The anarchist could handle tickling almost anywhere else. That spot, though? He was screwed.

Miles and Pav each stopped their teasing fingers, figuring he could only handle so much at once. The first boot came off, thunking against the wood floor of his house boat. “Gwehendy! Gw-gwehen, c’mon! Enough’s ehenough, mate!” She didn’t share his opinion. One finger dragged up his socked sole, making him muffle a squeal. “Really, Hobs? Plaid socks? And you say I’m a monster.”

“F-fuhuck ohohoff! Miles, Pahav, get her!” He looked to his friends, silently hoping they’d see how evil that was. Both teens gave him an apologetic smile, just holding him down. “Sorry, big man. We won’t let her kill you, promise.” Those little fucking- “GYAAH! GWEHEHENDYHIHI! NAHAHAO!”

Boisterous, loud, frantic laughter flew from his lips, quickly filling the room. He thrashed like a lanky worm on a hook, kicking and twisting in every direction possible. It tickled so fucking much.

Miles was taken aback by the intense reaction. He had never seen Hobie laugh that hard before; it was just one foot, with the sock on. Mental notes were definitely being taken. “Damn Hobie, you’ve got some pipes on you.”

He wanted to flip the boy off, yell at him, do anything other than laugh his ass off; yet he couldn’t. The spot was that bad. Tears of mirth grouped in the corners of his eyes, his dark cheeks stained a bright red. He could barely form a sentence through his laughter, much less escape. Pride crawling in a hole for the moment, Hobie did the one thing he said he’d try his hardest to never do: beg. “PLEHEHEASE! GWEHEN- STOHOP!”

Just like that, the devilish nails left his socked sole. Miles and Pavitr quickly put some distance between themselves and the punk, valuing their lives. Gwen cut the webs on his arms, freeing him to curl up and giggle his head off. And he did just that; his arms wrapped around his midsection, one hand going to rub his poor foot as his knees went up to his chest. Gwen jogged to the kitchen, getting him a glass of water.

When offered the liquid, Hobie sighed, downing the entire cup in seconds. His cheeks had calmed a bit, breathing slowly returning to normal. Miles whispered to Pav, not knowing that Hobie could hear every word. “Never guessed Hobie would be a ticklish-feet guy. Hell, I never thought he’d be that ticklish, period.” The punk groaned, making Pavitr giggle. “Why do you think he wears those big boots? Tickle deterrent.”

Okay, that’s enough of their shit. Hobie stood, one booted and ready to enact his revenge. “I suggest you lot run now.” Miles needed no more warnings, turning invisible and darting away. Pavitr ran for the bedroom, locking himself inside. Gwen tried to do the same, but one of Hobie’s webbed snagged her and brought her into his arms. “Hey there, Gwendy. I fink some payback is in order, yeah?”

Trapped in the backwards hug, Gwen couldn’t do much besides squirm and plead with him. She was regretting not changing out of her thin sleep top. “H-hobie, come ohon! I was just trying to make you smile! It- it worked, didn’t it?” Okay, check on the obvious lies. “Y’know I don’ like liars, Gwenny. Time ta pay your penance.”

He dug into her stomach, paying special attention to the small amount of pudge below her navel. She squealed, her knees quickly buckling as loud laughter poured out of her. She really couldn’t handle the taste of her own medicine. “H-HOHOBIE NOHOHO! IHIT- NOHO FAHAHIR!”

Hobie snorted, loving her immediately crazed reaction. “Not fair? You kiddin’ me? This is 100% fair, ya shit.” He decided to be a bit mean, using both hands to claw at her ticklish tum. Snorts started to break up her laughter, her cheeks growing red as cherries. It was worth waking him, but damn, why did his hands have to be so big?!

A creak came from the floorboards behind him, making the lanky boy pause. He webbed Gwen’s arms to her sides, scanning the room. “You. I’m gonna be back for you.” Hobie turned his full attention to the rest of the room, watching as his old floorboards shifted near the bathroom door. Bingo.

Hobie spent the rest of the afternoon hunting the perpetrators and making sure they learned their lessons. By the end of it, all three superpowered teens had rosy cheeks, dopey smiles and tired eyes. They were currently in a cuddle pile on the couch, the punk being used as a communal pillow. And you know what? He wouldn’t change a damn thing.

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thedummysdummy · 1 year ago

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When We Collide

The pen made a soft click as the ink cartridge within it shifted while the pen spun through Victor’s slender fingers. Despite his eyes being entirely focused on the computer screen in front of him, his mind kept drifting back to the odd encounter of the morning. That girl…the scene had been so familiar as she stepped out into the road, completely distracted. He hadn’t even consciously realized he’d stopped time until the surprise of finding her an Evolver broke him from his moment of reverie. While he didn’t exactly make a habit of rescuing dummies who stepped out into the road, something deep inside him had taken over just like it had in his childhood.

Which he supposed he could have brushed off. She was just some random young woman, after all. There were millions just like her. He had no interest in her past the nagging curiosity that he must have seen her before. No, there was only one woman he had any interest in. Even at that, such interest was little more than a drive to know that the person who had selflessly saved his life had not lost hers.

At least, that was what he told himself.

But then, the same girl had shown up at his door. That solved the mystery of where he’d seen her, at least; there must have been a photograph of the company’s producer when he’d read their final report and deemed it time to cease their funding. Miracle Finder had been popular in its day, but like most things do, it had run its course. He was 100% confident in his decision to cut their funding.

So why was he now considering something contradictory to his previous stance? Perhaps it was the passion in every inch of her small body. Or the way she’d looked him directly in the eye without any hint of nervousness. More likely, it was the drive he saw behind those threats. She made him believe that she had what it took to carry out her promises. And so? Just a hint of a smile pooled at the corners of his lips as Victor realized he’d already made up his mind and just hadn’t caught up to it yet.

He would let her present her case at the investment assessment meeting, but what he really looked for in a good investment had already shone through. For now, some field research was required.

Victor picked up his phone and pressed the number one speed-dial. The voice of Goldman soon filled his ear. “Boss! What can I help you with?”

“I’m going out. Tell my 3pm appointment that they’ve been rescheduled to 4pm.” As he spoke, Victor plucked his jacket from the back of the chair and shrugged it over his shoulders. “Also, I want you to earmark 500 million for that studio. Add it to the quarterly report, but do not send the adjusted budget to the board yet.”

A sputtering sound came from the other end of the phone. Despite his years of working for Victor, the man still managed to catch Goldman off-guard. “You mean that persistent little studio with the producer who buzzes around like a fly begging for funding? Sir, weren’t they only asking for 50 million? And why are you marking it as approved before the application meeting even happens?”

Victor seemed to completely disregard his assistant’s questions, the only outward sign of their acknowledgement being a twitch of the corner of his upturned lip. “I’ll be back late this afternoon. If you have any issues with moving the meeting, tell Mr. Chin to call me directly.” And with that, he hung up the phone and stepped into the elevator.

~~~

The set was awash with voices and people rushing around like a hive of excited bees. Victor met no resistance at the door; the staff were more than happy to allow the legendary CEO to explore the set at his leisure. Was he there to talk investment? Was he going to be on the show? They didn’t know, but they did know not to stand in the way of the man with the dark eyes.

Victor watched the proceedings as the wheels in his mind spun the information into thread for later. If LFG was going to make such a large investment in the entertainment industry, he needed a deeper understanding of how production functioned.

And, it seemed, the girl did too. Victor spotted her as she weaved her way through the crowd with her face buried in her notebook. He couldn’t help but chuckle as she continued to rush directly toward him with seemingly no spatial awareness. Would she look up in time? His solemn mask made no slip despite the amusement rolling around in his chest. Of course she wouldn’t. She was good at one thing: focusing on one thing at a time.

She walked directly into him and looked up with those big eyes. The sound of surprise she made caused a huff of amusement to compress his chest, though she probably saw it as annoyance instead. His clear eyes scanned the exposed page of notes and the container of pudding in her hands.

The pudding struck him somewhere deep in the back of his skull. Memories of a sandcastle, a little girl, and the hundreds of puddings he’d made since took center stage. Was this…a clue? Surely not. It wasn’t like he and that little girl were the only two people who enjoyed caramel pudding. But there was only one way to know for sure. “And put that thing in the cafe fridge,” he finished his lecture.

His eyes never left the girl’s retreating back as suspicions began tumbling like stones in the polishing media of his mind. With a new mission, Victor returned to his car and made his way down the quiet, familiar streets that led to Souvenir.

After this many years, making pudding had almost become something of a calming meditation. Whenever he needed to clear his mind, those familiar ingredients in his hand spoke like voices of prayer. The scent of caramel replied, always washing away his concerns with the affirmation of action.

He thought about the recent encounters with the clumsy-yet-determined girl. She was about the right age, he’d guess. And just as stubborn as the little girl in his memory who demanded payment in pudding with no doubt in her mind that he would deliver. A single-mindedness shared by the producer who kept appearing like a stray cat.

Soon, the warm puddings sat on the passenger seat while Victor made his way back to the film set. For a moment he doubted whether this shredded and disjointed plan would do anything at all, but he’d held the hope for seventeen years that the sweet dessert would again serve to bring the girl to his side. It certainly didn’t hurt to try.

No one questioned the CEO as he slipped into the cafe and located the bag he’d seen the girl carrying earlier. It was an easy task to replace her clumsy puddings with his own. For a moment he considered just throwing hers out when he exited the building, but his curiosity led him to bringing them home. Maybe she, too, had been trying to perfect the recipe?

A single bite told him that if she had been…she was failing.

But he finished the dessert anyway while his mind followed the thread of events as it wove itself into the tapestry of his life. He didn’t know exactly what image the slowly-emerging fabric held, but he was starting to get a few clues.

~~~

Days passed and Victor grew more and more sullen. Even if she’d eaten his pudding, how was she to know it came from him? Had he expected her to burst into his office singing the praises of this dessert that had magically appeared where hers had been? It wasn’t a well-thought out plan. But still he mused over the puzzle pieces scattered across his life one by one. At first he’d thought there were two puzzles: the mystery girl from his childhood, and the plucky little producer who made him feel something strange whenever he saw her.

What if…they were really the same image?

There was really only one way to pull himself out of a mood like this. Victor unlocked his phone and began a list of ingredients, which he sent to Mr. Mills without any need for explanation. The elderly gentleman would know exactly what it meant: the Souvenir Boss was returning.

Another message to Goldman ensured his free evening and Victor was off. He arrived at the restaurant soon after, immediately feeling his stress levels drop. No sooner had he pulled the apron over his head and tied it behind his back than he heard the click of the front door unlocking. Good old Mr. Mills, reliable as ever. Victor placed a hand on the kitchen door to greet his friend when a second voice gave him pause.

“You’re our first guest of the day!” came the familiar voice of his elderly server. Victor backed away from the door and instead began pulling out the equipment he would need for preparing today’s food. He could hear the rising and falling cadence of the two voices in the other room as he hummed to himself with a smile on his face.

A smile which immediately faded when Mr. Mills entered the kitchen. “The young miss wants to film here. I know it’s generally against your policy, but she’s very persuasive-”

“Absolutely not.”

Mr. Mills nodded with a soft frown on his lips. “The usual response, then?” Victor returned the nod and his friend retreated quickly, leaving the chef feeling more than a little annoyed. Why were so many people obsessed with documenting their food rather than enjoying it? He scowled and peeked through the crack of the kitchen door, curious what kind of person was being impolite today.

Only for his eyes to widen slightly when he saw the girl. Yes, that girl. She had found his restaurant?! He felt a small flutter somewhere in his midsection; most likely just pleasure that his plan seemed to be going better than he imagined. Except…he’d just kicked her out. Minor setback, that.

His mind was already spinning with solutions when the dining room again filled with voices. Victor peeked out and saw, with less surprise than he expected, that the girl had come back inside. But this time she wasn’t alone. Victor wasn’t at all surprised to see the blonde superstar had arrived; Kiro was a common sight whenever Souvenir was open. But to see him with the girl? The scowl deepened.

Victor had half a mind to kick the both of them out again, but did not allow himself to give in to his impulsiveness. This was surely fate giving him a second chance at a plan. He thought as he cooked, each dish bringing with it another half-baked idea.

It wasn’t until the final dish went out that he’d settled on a plan he liked. The pudding was in the oven mere minutes later and the bill written up. Victor left the bills on the counter, replaced his apron, pulled out his keys, and exited through the back door. He couldn’t stand another minute of hearing her laugh with Kiro, anyway.

~~~

It had been barely five minutes and Victor already knew that the board would have none of this nonsense. Where was the passion and drive that he’d seen before? It was obvious to him that she was not excited about the proposal in the least. “You took this long to prepare a report like this? You seemed more at home on the film set.” At least there she’d been earnest and excited. This? This report had no life whatsoever. This was not work worth the prize he had already allotted, but he knew she could do better. And more importantly, it seemed she knew she could do better with her lack of argument.

She’d already convinced him. Now it was time for her to convince the board. It seemed she needed a little more motivation.

“I will not be attending the meeting. Now, you can go.” Victor watched as her shoulders drooped and the girl hurried out of his office. He’d been tough, yes, but no tougher than he was on any other applicant. He knew she could rise to the bar; he simply had to show her where it was.

No sooner had she left than he noticed the notebook sitting on the corner of his desk. “Dummy,” he grumbled as he picked it up and began rifling through the pages. “Didn’t I tell you to get rid of this thing?” His eyes scanned the pages and pages of notes, pausing when he reached a large section about Souvenir.

Ah, now this. This showed passion. This showed heart. Even her scribbled half-ideas in a more hurried writing showed the story which made the whole meeting come together. She didn’t seem excited about the report because she wasn’t excited about it. A half-smile crept up the left side of his mouth and he pulled out the business card she’d left at the restaurant.

If this was where her passion really lies, well? She’d piqued his curiosity enough to see where this all would go. He pulled out his phone and typed a short message: “You may film here.”

There was a knock at the door, the familiar cadence of Goldman. “Come in,” Victor called out, setting down his phone and opening a folder of documents. The assistant came bustling in with another similar folder, which he set on the corner of the desk.

“Hey boss, I brought these in for you. I saw that girl here again; she really is persistent, isn’t she?” Victor looked up and nodded, hardly realizing the smile was still on his face. Goldman seemed surprised to see it and got a mischievous glint in his eye. “You seem pretty happy about it, boss. You aren’t getting fond of her, are you? A little bit of a crush?”

Victor immediately stonewalled his face and shook his head, though he felt the tips of his ears getting a little warm. “You’re being ridiculous, Goldman. She’s just another potential business partner. Now, get out of my office before I give you more work to do!” Goldman began to laugh and backed out of the office, giving Victor a wink before closing the door behind him.

Absolutely not. How ridiculous. Victor shook his head and did his best to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his head asking, “What if you are?”

#I AM BACK #I hope you enjoy this fic #it was an ask #there will be more where this came from #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #love and producer li zeyan #mlqc #evol x love #love and producer victor #love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor fanfic

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roohuh · 2 years ago

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Amortentia

Part 3 of year Six in Obliviate

Ominis X MC

Summary: It’s time to make Amortentia in class! Need I say more?

Warnings: just floof

“Alright class, settle down. This year we are starting with Amortentia, so that no one will ask me ‘when we are doing Amortentia?’A couple things to get out of the way before we start. One. I will not be telling anyone what I smell. Two. I don’t care what you smell as long as you do not smell too much and I have to send you to the hospital wing. Three. The only person you should be talking to is your lab partner, so you can discuss on your own time what you smell. Turn page 394 and begin.” Professor Sharp speaks with hands clasped behind his back pacing to his desk. As he sits he adds one more thing,

“And this should go without saying but I will say it anyways, if any of you tries to smuggle even a drop of that out of this classroom everyone will have 100 inches to turn in by tomorrow about how dangerous and harmful this potion is.” Turning to Ominis you shrug,

“Well, here's hoping you smell me.” Ominis laughs blushing, opens his textbook, and articulates in a quiet and bashful voice.

“I think I will smell…your shampoo, the faint smell of earth you always seem to have on your hands from tending to all of your Dittany plants, and maybe a hint of the highland breeze that you smell like when you are back from flying.” At his words your heart begins to pound and you can feel the heat rising to your ears. Busying yourself you flip open your book turning hastily to the page. All around you hushed giggle spring up and constant whispering as everyone guesses who the other will smell. Sebastian, who is wildly displeased about losing Ominis as a lab partner, glares at poor Garreth who was kind enough to take the Slytherin on. Ominis is a very efficient lab partner preparing all of the ingredients while you monitor the potion. The two of you make a great team as he is always willing to oblige and happily takes your instruction.

“Poor professor sharp looks absolutely dismal over there nose buried in a book. You would think if he didn’t want to teach it he would just leave it out of the class altogether.” You chuckle to Ominis.

“It sounds like he did not want to hear about it all semester. Practically every year there is a sixth year whose heart gets broken over someone smelling someone, or someone els not smelling the someone, but every year they all beg him for this chapter. It really is a silly thing.” Studying Ominis’ calm features you wonder if that is trepidation or contempt in his voice.

“Well I wonder who’s heart will be broken this year. I’ve heard Garreth is sweet on Imelda but poor chap has no chance. Way too clumsy!” You shake your head knowingly. Handing you a crushed shiver fig Ominis remarks,

“Well I guess we will find out soon enough as this is the last ingredient.” Dropping the fruit into your cauldron you stir intently watching the stew. Since the potion is very time sensitive as each station reaches this point the pair of students goes quiet as they carefully monitor their brew, not wanting to be the group who messes it up and doesn’t get to smell anything. The atmosphere is deathly still until Sebastian drops a stack of books on his desk laughing like a maniac as the room collectively jumps from the loud sound. Professor Sharp smirks watching the students jump, this time not reprimanding Sebastian for his constant Tom foolery. Ominis lets out an annoyed “Ass.” Not having fallen for the trick himself, as he is used to loud unexpected sounds, but felt you jump a foot in the air ready for a fight.

“Ah it’s time!” Clapping your hands together you exclaim as the potion turns from a deep red to a shimmering white. Gingerly you take the potion off the heat, stirring continuously; Ominis waits with bated breath to hear if it has turned the correct color.

“Looks perfect.” You let out a sigh of relief, as you slow your stirring. You inhale the scent instantly recognizing the smell; with great effort you step away from the potion trying to breathe in fresh air. Curiously your eyes flicker to Ominis, who also got a good whiff of the potion, and now has a satisfied smile crossing his face,

“Exactly as I suspected.” He remarks casually, before you can respond Professor Sharp approaches your Cauldron looking down at the liquid.

“Very good. Clean your station and you are dismissed.” Fighting the urge to take another long deep sniff you wave your wand over the cauldron vanishing the liquid. Ominis does the same and the station puts itself back in order. Sebastian strolls over to you and Ominis his own secretive smile adorning his face,

“Well did you two smell each other or what?” Unable to look at either of the boys due to your furious blushing, eyes forward you walk out of the classroom. Ominis matches your pace asking in a hushed hopeful whisper,

“What did you smell?”

“Your dewy warm calonge, which always lingers on my robes after you hug me. The hair gel you use that smells faintly like cinnamon and vanilla, the box Bertie Bott's Beans you always keep tucked in your robes, parchment, and the musty air in the Undercroft.” Biting your lip you sneak a glance over to Ominis whose eyes are shining with a wide grin painted across his features. A tender hand takes hold of your own but instead of walking to your next class he pulls you down a hall and out into a small secluded courtyard.

“We are going to be late.” You mumble shyly as he pulls you into his arms.

“I don’t mind, do you?” Giving you a mischievous smile he kisses your forehead. Closing your eyes you fold into his embrace swathed in all of your favorite smells. Head pressed to his chest you can hear how fast his heart is beating despite the confident calm demeanor he is trying to project. At the sound of Sebastian rounding a corner in search of you, Ominis pulls you into a doorway in an effort to conceal your presence. He wants to linger in this moment a while longer, savoring the feeling of you in his arms.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts legacy ominis #fanfic #ominis x you #ominis fluff #sebastian sallow

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unohanabbygirl · 1 year ago

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Thread on the hairstyles of everyone in FMN because why not?

Starting off strong (get it?) we have Jace who’ve I’ve granted grace and given a nice standard haircut. Anything too short is a no for him and mullets give the guy war flashbacks so this is his comfort look.

Out of all the Stark men his hair is the least curly, more wavy than anything but if he grew it out there would be a lot more bounce to it. Thankfully he’s kept up with the family tradition and decided to retain some nice length. Whenever Baela’s board she cornrows it just to see how red his scalp will turn from irritation.

One time she posted her work to twitter but made sure to let everyone know he’s legally biracial so it’s fine.

Next in we have baby Joffrey who’s hair is the curliest out of both his brothers plus Harwin. Its got some natural highlights and is very bouncy. The kid loves his hair even though he likes to act as if it’s whatever and hides the dozens of haircare products beneath the bathroom sink. He’s a shea-moister and curling cream junkie but don’t let him hear you say it because he’ll deny, deny, deny and insist his hair just looks like that fresh out of bed. Not his fault he’s gods favorite.

One time he posted a thirst trap to his story while his hair was wet as he was straight out of the shower because he finally added a girl he’d been crushing on to his close friends. Sadly, he forgot his sister’s were in his close friends as well which led to him getting screen shotted and made fun of 😔

Mama Rhaenyra! Ugh, her hair is everything, very reminiscent of the stereotypical 90’s bombshell. Think Anna Nicole Smith but Pamala Anderson whenever she goes for an updo.

Nyra keeps her hair around shoulder length but will grow it out a few inches in the winter/fall before going back to the salon to get some length cut off because she misses the bob. Loves hairspray like its her best friend and thinks dry shampoo is the holy grail of all hair products. The love this woman has for her hair was passed on through Joffrey and everyone knows it.

She’ll cry and be down in the dumps for the rest of the day if her salon trip leaves her with harsher layers than she wanted (me too babes, me too)

Rhaena said she was serving cunt once after getting some minor highlights + a blowout and hasn’t stopped smiling since.

Laena! What can I say? She’s a simple woman.

Her hair is always giving effortless but takes a bunch of time and heavy maintenance. Its the perfect combo between that messy running across the beach look while still very glamorous. She isn’t big on big brands or factory made products like some people… so her main hair care items are water based, all natural things like olive oil and rice water, and only applies heat every once in a blue moon. The last time an actual hair dryer ever touched her hair was when the twins were still in middle school.

Very simple woman when it comes to styles, likes a pretty low bun with a few strands pulled in front of her face and if she’s feeling adventurous will clip on a faux bang that she styled to match her hair since she’s too afraid to commit to cutting real ones. (Again, me too.)

Baela is my favorite because I’m a sucker for women with short hair. No woman has ever looked ugly with short hair and thats that.

Baela has never cared for long hair mainly because she’s a sports girl so its very hot. Plus she can’t keep a hair tie for shit, you could buy her a pack of 100 elastic hair ties and they’d all go missing in a month tops. Another reason she rather keep it shaved down is because its not as much hassle, however she’ll have her moments where she chooses to grow it out because she loves the 90’s Halle Berry and Nia Long vibe that comes with short hair on the longer side when its all styled up.

Currently her hair looks closer to the style on the left but will prob go back to something similar to the cut on the right soon.

Gonna make a part two and three because I can’t add more pictures 😭

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tarmac-rat · 2 years ago

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💕 Gush about your OC 💕

✨ Post 5 facts about your CP77 OC.

✨ Open the latest section of #cyberpunk 2077 tag and reblog 5 posts of people you don’t follow, giving them nice tags.

✨ Tag 5 people to spread the game.

Tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo !!!! Which means yes, we're back to talking about Riley. I'm gonna try to keep this one as BRIEF as I can, and do more "fun" facts that I've been sitting on about her over the past 3 years of planning:

__________________

❤️ - Riley isn't a food nut but she LOVES shawarma. It was the first meal she ever had with Jackie after he brought her into the city and she and him (plus Misty and Vik) sometimes used to go to this one hole-in-the-wall shop around the corner of her apartment during the 18 months they worked before the heist. Her go-to order is syn-lamb with all the add-ons, no onions, and extra sauce on the side for dipping. She and Jackie both have signed eurodollars on the wall because they got dinner there like twice a week.

💛 - Riley is Indigenous American/Mexican, her mother Ivy being 100% Navajo and her father Felix identifying as both Mexican and Apache (don't ask him the percentages of each-- he doesn't know and he sure as shit doesn't care). Riley finds it hard to identify culturally with any of her backgrounds, however, because of her life growing up on the road, and Navajo customs and traditions fell out of the Bakkers over the years save for the stubborn few who still hold onto them. Her mother tells her some things here and there, but it's a part of her that she regrets not knowing more about once she leaves the Bakkers for Night City.

💚 - Riley's cybernetic right foot ends in a modified blade-- not a knife blade, a sprinter blade, like a runner would use-- and as a result she literally cannot wear heels. Flats only. She tried to shove her foot into a kitten heel once and she tripped on her way out of her apartment. It wasn't a good look. Please consider getting her more sneakers and boots for Christmas. Additionally, as a result of having one leg be made of mostly junk metal, her legs are actually not the same length (left leg is 1/2 an inch longer than her right), and she has to make a conscious effort not to trip over her own feet when she's moving hurriedly.

💙 - Riley's had her nose broken around 3-4 times throughout her life (three from fights, one from falling off her motercycle) and has never once gotten surgery to correct it, so it's pretty...let's say "askew". She actually has problems breathing out of it a lot of the time but in terms of medical issues that need addressing, this is LOW on her list, so she never actually does anything about it.

💜 - Riley was a massive horse girl growing up and actually dreamed about seeing a real-life horse one day when she was a child (a dream she still has, even if she'd rather die than ever admit it). She used to draw pictures of horses and hang them up in her family's tent, and every time the Bakkers would stop at a new town she'd try and barter with the townsfolk for any books about horses that weren't in the clan library. If she ever got one of her own, she already has names picked out-- Atticus for a boy, Maisie for a girl.

I would tab people but I'm pretty sure everyone in the fandom has done this one, so I'm gonna take a quick break and just say that if you haven't, consider this my invitation to you!

#Cyberpunk 2077 #CP2077 #V #My V #Riley Aldana #Darn it sorry y'all I got tagged a lot so you're all getting more Riley #Aldi speaks

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filamints · 2 years ago

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gordon: 1, 10, 14. tommy: 20, 48. benrey: 36

this is so so so fucking LONG IM SORRY i just got excited to talk so now i wont shut up. it will be readmore'd to save ur dash

gordon:

1) What does their bedroom look like? Like a shithole, mostly. All his life, its always been too cluttered with junk in a haphazard stack of piles. If he lives in one place too long, eventually every inch of wall space gets coatings of posters and papers and sticky notes. Its overwhelming visual stimulus.

Take his tendency for all those behaviors, and mix them with post-canon agoraphobia and depression, and the stacks of magazines and games get stacks of garbage on top. Door dashed takeout containers pile up, endless empty bottles of beer and bottom shelf vodka, bags get stacked in towers by the door for when he get brave enough to leave his apartment to sprint to the dumpsters (not nearly often enough).

The apartment he's currently is was only supposed to be short term, off site housing set up by Black Mesa before the new compound dorm/apartments were finished and he could move there. He at least started with a pretty clean apartment fresh from that move, so most of the current mess is honestly just nesting in depression trash now that his next move has been obliterated off the face of the earth. The only thing different about his bedroom vs the rest of the house is that's the room with the bed in it, a box spring and mattress directly on the floor, the frame leaning against a wall behind unpacked boxes, never assembled. Pull yourself together, man. (This will happen eventually at least)

vv More below because all of my answers are this long. vv

10) Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such? CHRIST hes got brain problems. He has had ADHD all of his life of course. Hes also has anxiety & depression, look at him. Hes aware of those at least. The one hes not aware of, at least preResCas, is bipolar disorder. ADHD was an easy diagnosis as a kid, visible from the outside. The anxiety & depression troughs are what made him seek out meds in college. But it can be hard to see the bipolar cycles from the inside, especially with the neat and easy depression diagnosis right there obscuring half of it. He just thinks every time he hits his unstoppable stride that hes 100% over his shit and hes gonna get better and hes fucking unkillable untouchable unstoppable.

And then he falls off a fucking cliff and he can look back and beat himself to shit that he should have known better, this happens every time and this time the hell is just gonna last forever as punishment. Repeat for a good decade of his life.

Post canon, add that agoraphobia mentioned before here, as well as a good dose of PTSD. Between being tracked by the military, every time hes seen the fucking sky for the duration of canon he will shortly have bullets or missiles raining down on him, and general paranoia that he is still a wanted man, 'going outside' is just too much. (He even states in canon that he has ptsd from the grenades and even soda cans look too similar and freak him out lol) I feel like he would also be very anxious about the dark after Black Mesa. He had been sleeping in random rooms still brightly lit, and the dark was always bad news with the most heavily damaged sections of the compound + he got his hand literally cut off in the dark. He has to go pussy mode and sleep with lights on or nightlights at least and he will beat himself up about being a child for it endlessly. Speaking of that incident again, grabbing or restraining his right arm will also send him into a meltdown. This is a fun fact that he will learn about only in the most embarrassing bedroom meltdown over toy handcuffs.

14) Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.) And on the non-mental end, theres the hand. Although reattached to his body, its still not perfect. Most days its not too bad, a bit slower and less sensitive. But sometimes it acts up, pins and needles, weird aches, grip strength weakness, a kind of lag in input that leaves him dropping things or breaking them. Particularly at night, it tends to hurt. Touching the skin around and on the reattachment scar really skeeves him out for a long while, the location of physical touch doesn't quite map with where his brain thinks it should be, like his nerve map is slightly to the left of where it all should be.

tommy:

20) Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them? Not an illness persay but it did take quite a while for him to get the autism diagnosis. A lot of the symptoms that stand out at weird in boychilds get glossed over in girlchild, not speaking is just 'being shy', the tiptoe walk is just 'high heels walking', etc. Especially as a girlchild in the foster care system. It wasn't until like, late middle school that was figured out when the social aspects and meltdowns made paying attention to the symptoms inevitable, looking back it was Very Obvious.

48) How do they express love? Certainly not verbally, lol. If we are going by the typical love language categories, its more on the 'quality time' side. He's the type to like parallel play type activities. There's also gifts, but its food gifts 90% of the time. Very good at memorizing people's preferred orders at any given restaurant or coffee place and will pick you up your favorite treat. :)

benrey:

36) What makes them feel guilty? Not gonna lie, he's very hard to make feel guilty on account that he doesn't view most of what he does as either wrong or at least not his fault. I think it takes up until the boss battle for him to even get he did something wrong and feel bad about it. Because it was unintended, there really wasn't any guilt for him. I think to make him feel guilt, whatever he does would have to have a very visible and understandable detriment to someone he cares about, and if you want him to feel guilty without telling him why he SHOULD be, his involvement better be obvious.

It seems funny, but i think he would have a lot more genuine guilt over something simple and cause/effect like knocking over and breaking a glass or eating someone else's food in the communal fridge as opposed to something more abstract, like someone getting hurt as a consequence of something else that he did but genuinely thought was harmless.

#answers #hlvrai

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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

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They're retrieving chassis and bodies we are sending some we have factories and we are taking out the old fuse panels which have about 30 fuses ranging from 5 to 100 amps more or less and they're huge one of those three inches by one inch by 2 inches in gigantic they cost a lot of money to replace like a $150 for one of them at some point so we are taking all of those out and just putting in standard fuses which cost 30 cents for items it might blow and it would save them they just shut off instead of the current continuing and the panel can handle good current and it goes to a ground in the ground goes to a discharge and the whole car has several discharge points and their EMP discharge they create an ark on purpose and you can see cars sometimes discharging you get static from the roadway from metal grids from the plastic from the atmosphere and you need to discharge it some frames would charge up in reverse polarity of the battery so really you want to do that and to make it easier some of them have copper wiring it leads to it and it's fuse to the frame which is really the way to do it and only takes a few minutes and you can do it right in the engine compartment but the point is that those fuses are hard to get they're expensive and when you switch them out there's nothing to it you just add a wire and put in a discharge system and you're off and running and you can sell the other ones as OEM because they're brand new and you put it back in the box do you make each manufacturer and really it's at the automobile of manufacturers facility so you're not lying in a brand new and you're not lying and your people need these now all over the world you hear about it every few minutes when it diffuses coming and they're going to be there and as they replace them they're going to find out where stuff is

Thor Freya

We worked it out this morning and I knew about it but I think that his idea was real good he said to take the ones out of the cars as you get the bodies and they're brand new and to sell them off and you make a ton of money even as OEM and seconds which is not what they are they're brand new but we can sell them at a decent price maybe $80 instead of $150 and make a lot of money back from the losses it's a lot okay there's hundreds of trillions of cars in the area that have these and we're getting hundreds of trillions of parents and they were talking a lot of money and I can't pass it up

Bja

Me neither and I want to do this and I'd rather not drive the bus everyone wants me not to I'm still going to try I guess and stupid I'll probably get shot but that's the way it goes and it's not really a principal it's just a dumb thing to do he says it's a threat and other people are using me as a threat he doesn't appreciate it and if you don't stop well he's going to do what he's doing I suddenly hear what he's saying Deacon hide stuff and we can't we've got big mouth this is not going to be good because of this crap we're doing it again I'm doing a lot of it it says someone else would be doing it if it weren't me so I can be the brainless piece of trash that keeps doing it that's horrible but that's what it is that's why I'm still trying right now this will make a lot of money I need money to try and do things to bother him I guess he says I don't really want to be doing this it's so stupid I'm just going to get hurt and never does anything anyways people are pushing me to it mentally and physically and with other stuff

Trump

I do understand it and I believe it and I believe it he's telling the truth they don't want to be possessed going around a Superman either but it's going to happen and when they're doing that they can't resist the feeling that they might not die that they might save their people and they might be having a nice day at Papa Gino's the next day with beer and pizza at the same time this place is ridiculous and you can't even do that anymore and you're angry about it I understand that they're simpler and they get pushed around more but my brother fell very hard and I've seen first hand that it can happen to people who are smart so I have to be careful and I don't want him driving the bus and that's all he can drive other stuff we'll be great is if you picked up a hobby other than doing what they wanted to do and something that they want that's really not good for them and so if something that they used to threaten me in mind and them more so the latter like driving a go-kart Mozart car you have a go-kart and you turn it into a different kind of car and he might pick up his own business and have fun doing it like Peter sensei

Zues Hera

We're going to get you two for what you're saying right now but really that's a great idea so I'm going to look into it cuz he's go karts are being made into stealth cars and their mini cars and I want to make mini cars it says like the Lamborghini it's a real famous mini car so I'm going to try and do that he might even get one that's making me feel better

One reason is it's dangerous but really it'll be fun and I'd make money and it's not hard money

Trump

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aiweirdness · 3 years ago

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AI Doesn't Understand Scale

One of my favorite ways to mess around with text-generating AI is to see what it does with new games that didn't exist on the internet back when its training data was collected.

OpenAI's GPT-3 models were trained with data that cut off in late 2019 which means that they're unaware of certain major world events, as well as of the latest internet memes.

Recently someone posted this hilarious bit of startup advice that had people posting terrible advice of their own:

I guessed that even if a neural net like GPT-3 can't possibly have seen this meme before, it would still be capable of giving terrible startup advice. So, I entered the entire above sequence of brilliant entrepreneurial moves as prompt text, preceded by the word [tomatoes] in brackets to help indicate this was supposed to be a short thing about tomatoes. Then I wrote "[" and let it write a short thing about something else.

DaVinci

Unsurprisingly, the largest GPT-3 variant was the best at catching on to the format. It made the leap that you could amplify eggs in a similar way. And you end up making $1 million on each egg!

[eggs] Same as the tomatoes. Eggs sell for $1 each. He uses 39 chickens to make a dozen eggs in 9 minutes. One hen can lay 355 eggs in 355 days. That’s 11.844 muffins a day. 9:11AM go to the best grocery store in town and buy ALL THE CHICKENS. Keep your receipt. 9:19AM - you take $9.8MM and buy back all your chickens. 9:30AM bring the chickens home. 9:39AM - sell the chickens back to the store for $9.8MM Speculation in eggs prices rises dramatically. If you buy all the eggs, you can sell them back and make $1MM on each egg.

Object permanence is not a strength of DaVinci's - keeping track of the status of physical objects isn't really in its job description. Its world is text.

[wigs] You don't understand scale. Buy one $50 wig. Use it for 6 months until it breaks. Throw it away. Buy another $50 wig. Use it for another 6 months until it breaks. Throw it away. Repeat until you have 182 wigs. Sell them for $50 each.

GPT-3 DaVinci does at least realize that you should end with profitable things happening.

[hammer & nails] You don’t understand scale. Use $100 to buy a hammer. Use the hammer to build with 4 nails. Burn the nail building for warmth. Repeat indefinitely.[chocolate milk] 1 cow gives 160 glasses of chocolate milk per day. A single glass sell for 10k. Lots of profit.[fork] You don’t understand scale. Buy 3 forks. Solve any problem that takes less than 3 forks.

Ada

I also turned to the smallest GPT-3 variant, Ada. It caught onto the format only partially. It got that it was supposed to be about tomatoes. And possibly about money?

[tomatoes] Use $1 to buy 1.5MM tomatoes.[Tomatoes] Do you intend to build a city? ?" Build $500,000 lots and then sell $1,000,000 lots. You want a house outfitted with 50 toilets, 50 outdoor shower systems along with 132 rooms.[tomatoes] They are botanical machines. Of all the tomato varieties, they only grow once! Traversing is their way of existence. They do this every day. They can do "rainbow fruit trees", making "green smoke and crumble flower."

Had I not stopped the generation process, I'm not sure how long Ada would have continued this next one. When people talk about researchers shutting down their AIs because of an unwanted outcome, this is often the kind of thing they mean.

[tomatoes] You don't understand that it's basically the same thing as a bowl of cereal. Potatoes in a can. Pour the potatoes into 35 quart jugs and fill jugs to the brim. Whisk soapmaker. In little tub layers stout ash alum pot paper. Divide into four equal parts of qt and rl into segments measuring 3.2 cm by 0.8 cm. Wash wire wool in 80-95% dewashed water and rinse under tepid water. Prepare three inches of hot coals, gently heat in center of stove 4 inches deep. Roll up soap in crinkly napkins two times to fit into form according to volume-diameter. To remove bubble wrap insert aprons. Heat a small hole as necessary per each pot. Dip each slip to the brush onto each pot, then collect the whole wrap under the string from the soap's top to bottom. Crackfish, partially hulled and cut to about 3 cm across, on an upright flake computer of sufficient volume. Measure and cut parts of soap into even thickness, add by 1 cm to diameter of each bowl. Take soap left out to apartments with sheets and wrap it up in a towel. Fill Sanitary Pail with clay pot suders, layers clay that been finished of three times, each surface 3 cm thick, to the top of the pails. Split soap in half 3 cm ¼ x 0.7 cm just below bottom of tub. Fill bathtub lengthways and level with edge. Lay soap at 4 cups depth, with top down. In the dryer attach film and cling wrap, then lay sheet-hooks 1.6 cm apart on the film. Place plastic apple cores on top of film. Lay film and cardboard pails on top of each other. Cap and secure, then dry for 7-10 days.

If you don't do the entire list, are you really cut out to be an entrepreneur?

I also decided to see what the two midsized GPT-3 models did with this startup advice. Become an AI Weirdness supporter to read the results as bonus material! Or become a free subscriber to get new AI Weirdness posts in your inbox.

#neural networks #gpt-3 #startup advice #you don't understand scale #tomato #bad advice #Sanitary Pail #Heat a small hole as necessary per pot #any problem that takes less than 3 forks #dewashed water

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oftenderweapons · 3 years ago

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Dirty ABCs | Namjoon and Vixen

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen (OC)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Genre: headcanons

Rating: 18+. Minors, do not interact.

This just me having a little bit of fun in between collabs and commissions with an NSFW alphabet, so I can also get to know my characters better (yes, they're just characters. Do not assume the boys like/dislike any of the things I mention). A new drabble should be out soon, but just in case you missed it, here's Jimin's post-Soowoozoo smut! Please, read the trigger warnings carefully 🥺💖

Here's my masterlist! enjoy!!!! 💜✨

Trigger warnings: cumshots, cumeating, creampie, marking, unprotected sex, switch!vixen, switch!joon, daddy!joon, DDLG, lapdance, stripping, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, roleplay, homework within a professorxstudent roleplay, positions (doggy, missionary, reverse cowgirl, bend over), intimacy kink (?), bondage (hands tied, gags), impact play, oral sex, oral fixation, biting, casual mention of foot fetish, food play, choking kink, erotic massage, jealousy (kink), sapiosexuality, size kink, mention of infidelity and sharing partners, mention of outdoor sex, sex toys (dildo, vibrator, manacles, cockring, paddle, buttplug), edging, orgasm denial, orgasm control, overstimulation, BDSM club, uhm...bicuriosity ig?, thickdick!Namjoon, bubblebutt!Vixen impressive sex drive (?)

Aftercare: Namjoon is the kind of guy who’d gladly collapse in bed after some good, nasty fucking. He puts plenty of energy in it and he isn’t content until he’s barely alive before calling it a night. Yes, both him and Vixen need to force the other into heading to the bathroom and cleaning up before falling asleep. When he goes especially hard on her, aftercare becomes a way to relax for both of them: he needs to pamper her to even things out, and she in return likes spoiling him, giving him cuddles, letting him fall asleep with his head on her chest while she strokes his hair. Yes, his favourite cuddle is her touching his hair and chatting about how they felt during sex.

Body part: He most definitely has a thing for legs, hips and ass. Vixen is all about his chest and arms — but, truth is she’s absolutely crazy about his neck.

Cum: He either cums inside or on Vixen’s ass. No other alternatives for him. He hates cumming in her mouth, mostly because her cunt is soooo much better to him; and then again, that means he can eat her out right after — or mark her up and shove his cum back inside. Vixen is a fan of him cumming inside, she’s pretty much traditional about this.

Dirty secret: Namjoon loves when Vixen doms him. He’d never admit that out loud but he’s praying for her to tie him up and strip for him before performing a lapdance and fucking herself with that glass dildo he bought her… He’ll just wait… hopefully… Vixen wants Namjoon to give her homework on some impossible topic and then punish her for every mistake she makes while he’s dressed in a suit and glasses.

Experience: We know all about Joon’s and Vixen’s bodycount. Joon had four, possibly five partners, one of which broke his heart. He wasn’t entirely vanilla with them, but Vixen is most definitely the spiciest he’s been with — and the most rewarding. Vixen had two partners before Namjoon and her first boyfriend was way more experienced than Namjoon is, but that is not an issue to her. She knows if she ever asked him, they could try out pretty much anything.

Favourite position: Namjoon is mostly about doggy and missionary. Doggy for enthusiastic fucking with that teenage eagerness that characterises them both. Missionary when he needs to make love to her slow and steady — though he admits Vixen on top of him in reverse cowgirl is also a hot topic for him. Vixen likes good old missionary since she likes Namjoon’s body shielding hers. She also enjoys bending over for him — especially on the back of the sofa.

Goofy: neither of them is that goofy when it comes to sex. For them is a moment to get rid of tension and gain more intimacy. It’s a moment of communication and connection, and a very spiritual one at that. There might be little giggles and laughs here and there when they’re in a playful mood, but even then they’re more happy than goofy.

Hair: Namjoon trims his hair slightly, just to keep things neat and tidy. Vixen used to shave at the beginning of their relationship. She waxed a few times, to try something different and to feel Namjoon’s tongue better when he goes down on her. She switched to trimming when she found out Namjoon enjoyed a more natural look.

Intimacy: Nothing isn’t intimate between these two. Brushing their teeth together before going to bed? Religion. Getting dinner ready? A ritual. Making love? Therapy. Fucking like gorillas? Relief. These two share one single soul. They’re each other’s temple, and their bedroom is their church.

Jack off: These two? Masturbation galore. They’re the literal proof that being in a relationship should never stop you from taking care of yourself. They masturbate together while they watch porn, they masturbate to the sight of the other one doing it or just watching them. Namjoon is a huge fan of watching Vixen touch herself. He can do it with his hands tied, untied, or stroking his cock. He really doesn’t care as long as he can watch. Plus the fact that the wall dividing his bedroom from the shower is made of glass really gives him the best view when he has morning wood and Vixen is washing herself. And that goes both ways. She likes watching him while she showers, putting on a bit of a show. Vixen also likes watching Namjoon masturbate, though she prefers putting her hands on him. And Namjoon prefers her hands to his own, especially since she’s so fucking good at that.

Kink: We all know these two are the resident DDLG freaks. Other than that Namjoon suffers from a pretty severe case of voyeurism. On the side, all giving, we have oral fixation, impact play, marking, biting, cumplay and cumeating, and a very mild, very experimental foot fetish. He’s also into roleplay, especially regarding school/university environments. To that, we need to add on Vixen’s end exhibitionism and food play, and then, all giving, choking kink, exhibitionism, bondage and gags, erotic massage.

Location: these two need someplace private, since they can’t get in the mood unless they’re 200% sure they can take their time and relax and be as loud as possible. Namjoon would never stand the idea of them getting caught: he needs to protect Vixen. And Vixen would never try something in public. She knows he’d be too focused on the possible dangers to properly enjoy the experience. That doesn’t mean that they don’t tease each other in public. Vixen likes when they talk dirty in public so once they get home Namjoon rips her clothes off her.

Motivation: Namjoon gets turned on whenever Vixen looks incredibly refined and elegant, completely out of his league. Pair that up with someone flirting with her and he goes out of his way to remind her why she got his ring on her finger ten months after they first met. He also gets hot under the collar when he’s reminded of how fucking smart she is; that makes him both proud and horny. On a baser level, she just needs to grind against his thigh, rub her ass on his crotch, kiss his neck or suck his fingers to make him instantly hard. Vixen gets horny very easily when she sees him exercise power — which happens pretty often with him being the leader. Also watching him tower over someone who isn’t her makes her a little volatile — that’s her daddy, he’s her protector.

No: easy. Sharing. Even simply her moans being overheard by someone would make him nervous. Once he used to share everything about his sex life with his friends, but after he and Vixen got engaged, everything involving her without clothes on became a 100% restricted topic. He still happens to talk about sex with his friends, but he must be in need of desperate help in order to share details. Vixen agrees on sharing being a hard no. She also thinks doing stuff in public is absolutely a hard no: she’s far too attached to her job to risk a scandal ruining it. And of course she would never stand Namjoon’s career and reputation going downhill.

Oral: Both fans, Namjoon both on the giving and receiving side, though he prefers giving by far. Vixen is also a fan of receiving. If Namjoon weren’t so damn intimidating, she would enjoy giving more, too.

Pace: depends on the mood. Playful or angry? Then he’s fucking her like she’s nothing but a cocksleeve, straight up jackhammering his way in. Loving and emotional? Then they’re going slow and steady so they can feel every inch of their flesh meeting and parting and squeezing and squelching and sliding.

Quickie: yes, but not excessively. Vixen can only consider a quickie as a form of foreplay. There’s no way to satisfy her unless at least two rounds are involved. Namjoon is more than happy to take his time with her. If they don’t have that much time, they prefer masturbating together — quick, efficient, delectable.

Risk: No? The only risk he would take would be fucking her out in the open, but someplace where the possibility of getting caught is lower than 0.1%. He’d book super secluded villas for their holidays and fuck her until she’s begging him to give her a break.

Stamina: Namjoon hasn’t got too much stamina and Vixen doesn’t either, they just deprive and tease each other when they want to make it super special, otherwise they would be lazy and take naps in between a round and another. And they can truly deal with that brilliantly since they are great at foreplay and that makes up for their rather weak stamina.

Toy: These two are shameless about their toys. Vixen has a thing for dildos, and Namjoon loves spoiling her with those. She has a couple vibrators too, but she’s not that much of a fan: she has a practical one, when she needs things done quick and easy and another one that looked way too cute for her not to have it. In addition to that, they have manacles, a cockring, a paddle and a quite interesting plug.

Unfair: Being with Namjoon is all about the pleasure. He’d much rather overstimulate Vixen rather than deny her. Also because he has very poor control over his instincts and he can’t deny himself. He would tease, edge or deny Vixen only to punish her and make sure that she actually reads that as a punishment and not as some sick way for her to get exactly what she wants (aka spanks). Vixen is more on the teasing side, and she enjoys controlling Namjoon’s orgasms, but she’s very fair. They like to play dirty, but they make sure everyone gets what they need.

Volume: Namjoon is all about low and deep. His moans, groans, growls and grunts all come in a very quiet, although very eloquent way. He prefers keeping it quiet so it feels more intimate. Vixen on the other hand is very vocal, especially when Namjoon goes down on her or is trying to overstimulate her. She’s still considerate about the people living next door, but at the same time, she has a thing for doing it in the studio so she can be as loud as she wants, much to Namjoon’s — and his private tracks’ — chagrin.

Wild card: if it weren’t for his jealousy and his position, Namjoon would love to fuck Vixen in a room full of strangers, just to show how good he can make her feel, and to enjoy just how deranged she would get once adrenaline started kicking in. Claiming her in a semi-public context would help him sate his possessiveness for a good while. Vixen instead would love to go to a BDSM club with Namjoon and watch scenes from other people — maybe, potentially, join? — she most definitely wishes she had done stuff with a girl before getting with Namjoon.

X-Ray: Namjoon is packed. Length is not exceedingly more than average. But match that with more than impressive girth? That’s a wild ride. It most definitely takes a stretch. Vixen has rather small boobs — but she’s more than stubborn to make up with a full, round bubble butt.

Yearning: at the beginning they go pretty wild. Vixen is used to getting at least an orgasm before falling asleep — every night. Of course that tones down once she gets with Namjoon, especially since she learns to prefer quality over quantity and he refuses to get stuff done in ten minutes. She easily slips into a two to three times a week regimen, but deprive her for longer than ten days and she’ll feel neglected. Of course she’d take care of herself, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t start drifting away as she’d feel emotionally neglected too. Namjoon considers himself happy as long as he can have a full weekend of fucking: he tends to cram all the sex in days where he can relax since during the week he’s often too tense to initiate anything sexual. But he wouldn’t deny it if the fancy struck him.

Zzz: He falls asleep like a bear. He goes positively lethargic the moment he hits the bed after cleaning up. Vixen finds it extremely endearing. She usually takes longer, but not too much. She likes cuddling him while he’s sleeping.

#Namjoon x vixen #namjoon headcanons #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon alphabet #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon scenarios #namjoon x yn #bts headcanons #bts headcanon

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venomlion3 · 3 years ago

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god! these bitches gay! good for them, good for them + full and flat/sketch versions (more details under the cut!)

Back in March I fully caught up with JJK! As is tradition when I get into something new, of course I was gonna find some ships to fall in love with. The great thing about JJK is like....these bitches are all but confirmed to be some flavor of gay. Just the way Gege writes them makes it hard to believe the majority of them are straight even if he never flat out says they are (although Mai has that one line in a volume extra saying every time she's by a girl people think they're dating...inch resting). It's hard to explain but if you've read JJK you'll understand haha. ANYWAYS, Itafushi is a big fav of mine....it's like reliving my SasuNaru days from childhood but it's like 100x healthier and instead of one person trying desperately to chase after the other, both of these fuckers fight so HARD to get back to one another despite the risks. Their relationship is genuinely so sweet and they mean so much to me ;_; I hate the possibility of Megumi being the one to execute Yuuji in the future, and the Itafushi/SatoSugu parallels definitely don't make it better, but I have hope that they'll figure out something together. Regardless, Isayama gave me trust issues and Gege definitely takes some pages out of his book, and I heard they might even be friends so that certainly doesn't fare well for me or the characters Q_Q If you're curious about my JJK ships, the main ones are Itafushi/Itajun, NobaMaki, SatoSugu, ShokoHime, HaiNana, InuOkko, MaiMomo, KiraKari and MechaMiwa with honorable mention ChosoYuki, which I'm on the fence about mainly because I don't 100% trust Yuki as of now. I'm also still figuring out my gender/sexuality HCs (although Megumi being pan is pretty much canon and Kirara is almost definitely trans/agender) but Yuuji? Bi. Nobara? Sapphic at the very least (I love lesbian!Nobara but I have a soft spot for ItaFushiKugi and I don't mind bisexual!Nobara either, either way she loves women). Toge? Nonbinary as HELL. Maki? Lesbian. Yuuta? Maybe demiro/pan. I'm also very very fond of trans! Megumi, Gojo and Geto :] And YES, I have gotten the urge to add a JJK section to Venomverse. It'll probably happen in the future, but I gotta work on getting the current sections straightened out before I start adding new ones u_u At the very least y'all already know what ships would be canon in it haha. I will say this; I probably wouldn't make any additional kids for SatoSugu--Tsumiki, Megumi, Nanako and Mimiko are good enough. Megumi is a Belgian sheepdog/tervuren mix and Yuuji is a liger! Sukuna is a Smilodon, so after Yuuji becomes his vessel he gets those cute lil saber teef :] Only Kim knows atm what I'm making some of the other characters, it'll be a surprise for the rest of y'all ;3c Hope y'all enjoy!! Might do either a SatoSugu or NobaMaki doodle in the same vein as this one next...we shall see. Also, I did make Itafushi, Nobamaki and SatoSugu playlists for funsies a while ago, so feel free to check em out! Might go back and make an InuOkko playlist but for now I've got the main holy trinity haha

BONUS ADDITION!: Here's a TikTok I made for funsies <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itafushi #itadori yuji #itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #fanart #venomdraws #animalified art

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superphantom · 4 years ago

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Enthralled with the idea of Danny from Danny legit dies and has a physical corpse but can still kinda be human au and the Winchesters from just regular canon bumping into each other while... hiding bodies.

Three teens carrying a fourth by his arms and legs into the woods. Would they even be able to tell that it’s Danny’s corpse? It’s gotta be pretty much cooked through at that point. Hold on, I’m going to write something rq, apologies for any mistakes/bad writing but the concept is just too fun. If you think so too, go ahead and try your hand at it, this has so many excellent interpretations.

Edit but not really cuz I haven’t actually posted anything yet: I’ve only read back through this once but I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out, just wanted to add a quick warning for horrific death and descriptions of a corpse and all that.

Digging graves always sucked, naturally. It’s hard to plow through a good six feet of rocks and dirt and bones and whatever other crap might be waiting below the surface (one time, in some backwoods in Ohio they’d hit a bathtub around three feet down. Never got an explanation for that one). But, of course, the muggy pits of July made things much worse.

Sam had shed his top layer in the car, and was now down to a single shirt. He probably would’ve taken that off too, had it not been glued onto his back from sweat. Dean, who’d made a dig at Sam earlier that night for not being able to “take the heat like a man” still wore his flannel over his shirt, though it was beginning to soak through.

Laborious elements aside, what really made grave digging so tedious was the inability to fill it with anything else. It wasn’t like they could play music or anything, when they were in graveyards they had to keep a low profile, and all the other smart places to go hiding a corpse don’t get radio reception. And talking? With the amount of dust and dirt they kicked up, not to mention the work itself, it was more like trying to reason with a bully as they threw sand in your face. Gritty, painful, and overall, not worth it. So the brothers dug side by side with only light from a half-dead camping lantern and the singing of insects to keep them company.

Sam hit a rock with the tip of his shovel to knock it loose from the wall, the scooped it up and heaved it over the side of the grave. It was still only about knee height, meaning they’d have to put in another two hours minimum if they wanted to get the man hidden.

He’d been working with a witch to dodge death as he cheated his way through some shady business dealings. Actually, he’d been fairly easy to subdue- probably why he needed the witch in the first place- but once Dean had yanked the hexbag from where it hung around his stick-figure neck he’d begun to convulse and when he stopped, well, he wasn’t going to start convulsing again. That, however, was a problem for tomorrow.

Sam knocked a few rocks loose this time, letting them pile around his feet then launching them all over his shoulder at once. With the sound of metal clacking against rock gone, he realized Dean had stopped digging and was leaning against the handle of his shovel cautiously looking out into the woods. Sam moved in next to him and tried to figure out where he was looking.

“What are y-“ he asked. Dean shushed him before he could finish, then signaled for him to listen and pointed just past a thick bramble, to a gap between two trees. It would’ve been impossible to spot without years of hunting experience, out about 100 yards away were little moving. They weren’t even shadows, it was simply just movement in the dark. “Dude-“

Dean shushed him again, and shot him a dirty look before pointing more forcefully in the direction of the movement and focusing back in place. He gestured once again for Sam to listen. For a few moments they stood in silence, barely breathing. It was faint, but Sam began to make out what was unmistakably English. a dull beam of light swung around towards them then went back to facing the other direction, effectively re-blacking out the figures. Sam reached back, not taking his eyes off the movement, and now occasional glimpses of light, and snapped off the lantern.

It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Once they could see each other again, Dean tilted his head to the left, pointed a few times with two fingers in a two directions then held one finger against his mouth. Sam nodded and they both began creeping in opposite directions with the intention of surrounding who or what was having a chat out in the woods at night.

Sam moved as if he were gliding above the forest floor. He could vaguely make out Dean doing the same, though he was now could see Dean about as well as he’d been able to see the... three? He hovered further. Definitely three people (or, by his guess witches), earlier. Now that he was getting closer, though, he began to take note of a few things.

There were three short witches(?) standing fanned out around something slumped on the forest floor, their dying halogen flashlight held limp in one of their hands, flickering sadly. The witch farthest from flashlight-witch and closest to Sam held a shovel, though didn’t make any moves to use it. None of them moved, they all just stood there and stared at whatever was at their feet.

He signaled to Dean that he was going to go in from the front. He was pretty sure he saw the shadows nod to him, so he took that as an okay. Like a mouse on cotton, he positioned himself just far enough into the forest that they couldn’t quite see, Dean doing the same but behind them.

“I- What do we do?” the one holding the flashlight muttered. His nose was awfully clogged, it sounded like he’d been crying.

“I don’t know, Tuck.” The one holding the shovel answered. She also sounded upset, but more like she was doing everything she could to push back tears, a tone that Sam knew very well. “Danny, are you sure you wanna do this?”

The one in the middle, Danny, shook his head. Each of his arms reached across his middle, like he was trying to hug himself, or maybe more like he was trying to make himself look small, trying to hide. “I-“ his voice cracked and he let out a few sobs. The leaves and sticks made a simultaneous crack as he fell down onto his knees, folding over himself and shaking with pure, cutting sorrow.

Flashlight, or Tuck apparently, and Shovel got down beside him, hugging him from either side. They held one another and sobbed, one of them, Shovel, creaking out some pained “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”’s between wordless wails. From the looks of them, they couldn’t be more than 12 years old. Or maybe they could, Sam wasn’t a pediatrician. They were undoubtedly much too young to be in the middle of nowhere, all alone in a fragile mental state doing who-knows-what.

Sam looked to Dean then gestured with his head to let him know he was going to talk to the kids. Dean shook his head and violently gestured with his gun at the kids. Wait. Not /at/ the kids, beyond them. He’d neglected studying the white-wrapped body in front of them. That explained the tears. He couldn’t help but feel for them, even though for all he knew they’d just murdered someone in cold blood. He looked back to Dean and nodded, then signaled again.

Keeping his gun at the ready, but tucking it behind his back he slowly and deliberately stepped out of the trees, intentionally making noise so they’d see him coming. Tuck looked up with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Danny and Shovel tensed but didn’t further acknowledge him.

“Um, hey,” he said, trying his best for nonthreatening and landing at the border of creepy and awkward. “Are you guys good?”

Tuck’s eyes flooded with tears, but he got up on shaky legs, trying to pull Danny and Shovel up with him. They weakly joined him, leaning against one another for support. Despite the warm night, all three were trembling.

“I’m, uh, I’m not here to hurt you,” Sam started, not really sure where he was going with this, “I’m Sam Winchester, what are your names?”

Tuck gave him the same watery stare he’d had the whole time, like Sam was the saddest thing he’d ever seen. Shovel looked up next, she was more angry. Maybe her smeared and ruined makeup should’ve made her look silly, but all it did was add to the aggression she exuded. He could see her squeezing both her friend’s shoulders and tugging them very slightly to the left, wordlessly signaling- or at least trying to- an escape plan. Sam pretended not to notice.

“I just wanna know what happened here,” he inched his way towards the corpse. As he got closer he could smell burnt hair and flesh, another thing he was all too familiar with. He didn’t break eye contact as he squatted down and gently pulled the sheet back from a tuft of what he assumed was hair.

He bit the inside of his cheek upon seeing the boy. Fried was the only word that could describe him. His mouth hung open, as did his eyes- or at least, what was left of them. Ooze had dribbled from every orifice and re-solidified in horrible mauve blobs. His hair was barely more than a charred mess, his skin was peeling and bubbled in places, and so discolored Sam could barely make out the dusting of freckles across his nose. This was a death in agony if he’d ever seen one.

He folded the cloth back over the boy’s head and straightened up, pulling the gun from where it had waited behind his back.

“Alright,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna need some answers.”

Danny looked up, letting Sam properly see his face for the first time. His red-rimmed eyes widened at the sight of the gun, lips tightening into a thin line. It was a look of fear and resignation. He ran the back of his hand across his nose. Sam noticed a dusting of freckles on it. He looked to the sheet and then back to Danny, then checked once more.

“What the hell is going on here.” Sympathy gone, Sam allowed himself to posture intimidatingly. Whatever freaks these- these- these... freaks! were, they weren’t about to get away with cooking some kid alive. “Talk.”

The “or I’ll shoot” was silent, but understood. Danny cleared his throat, one hand rubbed nervously on the back of his neck.

“It- I-“ he stuttered, then in a barely audible trembling voice he said, “I, uh, I think I’m dead.”

#supernatural #danny phantom #superphantom #superphantom ficlet #i dunno what else to tag this!#I've been thinking about this prompt for ages and finally got it down in a way I'm happy with :D #my writing

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sugurus-slxt · 4 years ago

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Afraid - Aone

Synopsis: Aone is very used to people being afraid of him because of his appearance and even though both of you’ve been in a relationship for 5 months he’s still afraid to touch you.

Warning: None

Note: I hope you enjoy this. I'm not 100% sure about how this came out so some feedback would be nice :)

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You and Aone sat side by side on the couch watching ‘A Silent Voice’. The atmosphere was a bit awkward considering there were a couple of inches in between both of you and neither of you seemed to have spoken in the last half hour. This was a normal occurrence for the both of you but it never felt that way, you know normal. But today was different, the inches in between were smaller, he wasn’t as tensed and even with the lack of conversation, he asked if you were ok quite a few times. It’s not that he didn’t love you or wasn’t into you, not that at all. It was rather the fact that you made him flustered, the simplest smile would make his heart go Doki Doki plus add that on top of the fact that he was pretty shy already, things were difficult, to say the least.

He knew you weren’t afraid of him, you’d reassure him every day but it was him who was afraid of himself. He is so accustomed to being feared that he thinks he might hurt you because look at him he’s a giant. This would make sense aside from the fact the side he’s as soft as a baby and super gentle. But back to today, it was different. His gaze met yours more often, he stood a bit closer and even let you initiate a pinky linking today. But now you were both in your apartment and watching one of the saddest movies you’ve ever seen. Finally, you decided to shatter the deafening silence that was only accompanied by the low volume of the movie. “Do you want anything, I’m going for some water?” You pointed to the kitchen. He nodded no and you head to the kitchen and quickly back.

You had noticed he’d moved closer to where you were sitting and in all honesty, it made you blush a bit. You were really happy he was getting more comfortable with you. You decided to be a bit bold yourself, you went right next to him sat down, and laid your head on his arm, “This ok polar bear?” you felt flustered and warm as he mumbled a small yes. Aone prayed you’d not look up his face was beet read your action coupled with the nickname was so much already. He might have been sweating a bit but he tried his best to be cool like Futakuchi had told him. The movie went on and soon came the heart retching part, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying, you were going to get up to get some tissues but Aone went just a bit further. He gently turned your chin upwards and wiped your tears, “Don’t cry…” he said quietly and gave you the softest sweetest smile on the planet. You could only look at him wide-eyed. “I’m sorry ...” he looked away and started getting up. Aone thought he had scared you, “Taka wait,” you pulled at his sleeves and he sat back down.

“I was just surprised. I’m happy so so happy,” you smiled and he did the most surprising thing of the night. He gently lifted your figure onto his lap and cuddles you and said into your hair, “I love you, and thank you, baby bear.” You nuzzled yourself further into him,” I love you too.” Both of you spend the rest of the night cuddling in your newfound comfort.

#aone fluff #aone hcs #aone x reader #aone takanobu #aone drabble #hq aone #aone thirst #aone x gn!reader #haikyuu aone #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #fluff haikyuu #haikyuu comfort #ko fi support #date tech #Sar.writes

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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Buy a Heart - Steve Rogers Smut

The one where Steve’s your best friend and he grows tired of seeing you stuck with a lousy boyfriend.

Warnings: infidelity, smut, unprotected sex, abusive relationships

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I was woken up from my own thoughts by the sound of laughter, and quickly joined in so I wouldn’t look silly or as if I wasn’t paying attention to what had been said at the party - which was actually the case. It was getting harder and harder to put on the fake smile and pretend everything was okay when I just knew I didn’t love Thomas anymore. But I also couldn’t find the best way to break it all off with him, because the truth was… he scared me. And I hated that it intimidated me, but it did.

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, his eyes fell on me, and I shuddered, forcing a smile that hopefully read “everything is fine”. He raised a single eyebrow, a clear indication that something bad was going to happen when we left this dinner party, but otherwise kept on the appearances in front of everyone else. He would never create a scene in front of the Avengers, of course.

Just then, my phone beeped, signaling that a message had arrived. It was Steve. Instinctively, I felt the need to raise my gaze and look for his, but I knew that I couldn’t. Thomas had enough insecurities about my best friend already, I didn’t need to add this to the list of reasons why he would yell at me tonight. So I read over the text and returned my gaze to the conversation, pretending it wasn’t anything of interest, waiting for the perfect opportunity to excuse myself.

“I’m going to the toilet,” I had to explain once my boyfriend’s hand trapped my wrist, securing it just a tiny bit tighter than it should. “I’ll be right back.” He pursed his lips, but otherwise let me leave without raising the attention of my friends, who remained blissfully unaware of the tension between him and I. Good. That’s how I wanted it to be. It wouldn’t do me any good to have Earth’s mightiest heroes worried about my well-being.

I moved towards the nearest bathroom instinctively, knowing Steve would already be there, waiting for me. My mind was overtaken by him and only him, that familiar gravitational pull making me reach for the door at the same time he opened it from the inside. Damn supersoldier hearing.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked when he had pulled me into the tiny bathroom, made all the more suffocating by his large figure that took pretty much all of the space in the room. But instead of answering, he cradled my face, eyebrows furrowed so deep it made me want to press a thumb between them, make sure they weren’t creating a definitive mark in his perfect skin. His eyes penetrated my very soul, and it was only when I finally allowed mine to meet his, that he let me go.

“When were you going to tell me?” The question made me freeze, Steve’s intimidating figure towering over me. My heartbeat had sped up, making sure that he knew just how I truly felt, but I still had to try.

“What are you talking about?” It was the wrong thing to say and I knew it. I knew it even before his hands curled into fists and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, clearly trying to control himself.

It wasn’t that different from what Thomas did whenever he considered I had done something to upset him, but there was a stark contrast between what I felt with my boyfriend and what I felt with my best friend: Steve only ever made me feel safe.

There was no doubt in my mind that whatever anger was coursing through his body wasn’t directed at me at all, just like I knew he would rather die that hurt me. Although my boyfriend had never really laid a finger on me, the fear was always there, omnipresent, looking over me.

“Don’t fuck with me, Y/N. You know what I’m talking about. How come you never told me that he’s abusive towards you?” Hearing those words being uttered by the person I cared the most only made the entire situation feel real.

“It’s not like that…” I started, incapable of looking him in the eye again, but he held my chin and forced me to meet his gaze, so I could see just how serious he was about this situation. And I felt it. I felt it deep in my bones, and I knew there was no way we would step out of this bathroom to the same environment we had previously left.

“Bullshit.” I flinched, not because I was scared of the cold tone he used, but because I knew he was right. And still, I kept trying to find excuses - I don’t think I wanted to absolve Thomas from the role he had assumed in my life, it was more like I didn’t want Steve to think less of me for allowing myself to get trapped in such a situation.

Steve’s P.O.V.

“It wasn’t, though! He never laid a finger on me, I swear.” It was impossible to contain my scoff, no matter how badly I didn’t want to react in such a way to her words. It was impolite and it was rude and she deserved more, but I couldn’t find any way to reel myself in now that this anger had taken over me. Both of us knew we’d have to let it take its course so we could deal with the aftermath, whatever it may be.

“Y/N, you’re smart. You know that abuse isn’t just physical. You know.” She sighed, eyes closing momentarily to recollect herself, and I felt that itch, that urge that always spiked up whenever she was around, that just begged me to touch her, to feel her warmth under my fingertips in some way.

Only this time I didn’t try to contain it - telling myself that this is what she needed to find comfort, to find the courage necessary to get this out. So I pulled her to me, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and holding her head to my chest as the other went to her back, rubbing soothing circles there.

“It’s just… I don’t know how to end it, Steve. I-I hate to admit it, but... I’m scared.” The thought of her being anything near uncomfortable because of an asshole like that boyfriend of hers just made my blood boil. And she noticed, because there was the distinct sound of my teeth grinding as I moved my hands to hold her hips perhaps a little more tightly than I should.

“You shouldn’t be scared of anything. First of all, you’re an amazing agent and I know you can hold your own in any type of situation, much less anything involving an idiot like him. Second, if you feel like you can’t do this, for whatever reason, you know you can always count on us. At least, I hope you know you can always count on me.”

When she looked up at me, nodding enthusiastically while trying to blink away the tears that she didn’t want me to see, I was all at once taken over by the reality of my feelings for her. In that moment, nothing else existed, just me and her and this overwhelming need to make her feel good again, to remind her of how great love can actually feel if you’re with someone who would do anything for you.

So without even considering what I was doing, I cradled one side of her face and started to lean in, my heartbeat picking up as I watched her realize what was going on and close her own eyes in expectation. But before I could fulfill all of those late-night dreams I’d had about me and her, just before I learned what her lips felt like, I felt her hands on my chest, signaling me to stop.

“Steve…” She started, and I closed my own eyes, waiting for a simple no and expecting something even worse, expecting her to run from me and never look my way again, fearing I’d managed to absolutely ruin what I cherished most in the world: our friendship. “Steve, if you do thi- if we do this, I’m not letting you go,” she murmured, and the shock from the unexpected words had my eyes widening abruptly.

“W-What?” I had to be sure, I had to be 100% sure that she had in fact said what I hoped not to have imagined. Could it be that she wanted me too?

“Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” she urged, and I swear, my heart fucking stopped. How could she even consider that I would ever feel anything less than the most pure and profound love for her?

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Desire flowed through me in such a way it made me tremble. I’d dreamt about this, about having Steve and being his for so long, it was hard to believe he had actually wanted to kissed me. He’d wanted to kiss me, in a cramped bathroom, with my boyfriend a few feet away from us, and I had to know why. I just needed to know if this meant something more than pity or an effort to get me to leave Tom.

My lips were still tingling from the proximity of his when Steve leaned down to finally capture my lips with his, his full body pushing me against the bathroom counter until I could feel every single hard muscle of his pressed tightly against mine.

“Don’t you dare doubt my feelings for you,” he whispered when he allowed me a break to catch my breath, and in the silence that followed his statement, I knew everything in my life would never be the same.

“Kiss me again,” I implored, already pulling him to me by the back of his neck, and he came without any hesitancy. His lips were soft and pillowy and I couldn’t believe I now knew what my best friend tasted like.

It was clear the Steve was trying very hard to control himself and keep his touches as soft as possible, probably fearing that he would hurt me or scare me away, but when in his effort to feel every inch of me he inadvertently pressed his hard cock against my stomach, the strangled sound he released had me deciding I needed to break him then and there.

“Just… One second…” He asked, eyes closed while he tried to calm down his breathing, but I was already reaching for his zipper. At the feeling of my hand rubbing his boner, his eyes snapped open, meeting mine to find out that I was just as desperate for him as he was for me.

“No, don’t stop. I need you, Steve. I need you to remind me what it feels like to be desired again.” Although it wasn’t necessarily my intention, it was clear that even if I did manage to get through to him, it also rekindled a particular aggressive feeling I wasn’t expecting to see at that moment.

“I can’t imagine not desiring you…” he commented, fingers leisurely caressing my face until they curled around my jaw. “But knowing that someone had you and still didn’t seize the opportunity to give you every single thing you’ve ever wanted...”

I gasped when he easily hoisted me on the bathroom counter, my fingers thankfully still able to act towards my intentions even if my mind felt hazy with everything that was going on. While Steve peppered kisses down my neck, I managed to curl my fist around his girth, both of us gasping at the action, albeit for very different reasons. He was probably not expecting me to be able to reach his member without him noticing it - underestimating just how enthralled he’d become by my skin and my reactions - but my delight came from the size of the cock I now held in my hand.

Of course, I’d expected Steve to be big - bigger than most, even. That much was understandable, considering he was, after all, a super soldier. But even in my wildest, dirtiest dreams, when I’d lay in my bed at night and imagine what it would be like to have him by my side, did I imagine he’d be this big.

“You’re so big,” I ended up exclaiming, against my better judgment, because just as I predicted, Steve stopped nipping on my collarbones to meet my eyes, clouds of worry clear in his.

“We don’t need to do this right now.” The only answer I could give him was to roll my eyes at the stupidity of that statement. He didn’t need to remind me that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, but to think that I would waste this opportunity was truly ludicrous.

“You underestimate just how badly I want this,” and I squeezed his member so he’d know I was referring to it, and not only to the act that I longed to partake in with him. “I’m not leaving this bathroom until I’ve taken every single inch of you.”

Steve whined from the back of his throat at my words, and a dopey smile certainly took over my face just before he leaned over me to ravish my lips with his mouth. “And here I was, thinking you were an innocent little angel.”

Giggling, I pushed him away just enough so I could jump back on the floor. “I’m certainly nowhere near innocent, but I’ll let you call me angel if you want to.” Each new groan I earned from Steve only served to increase both my desire and my ego, so I dropped to my knees without any other sort of preamble, surprised when his hands covered mine on his member, urging me to look at him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want this?” Steve chuckled, thumb running over my bottom lip as I stared up at him with what I was certain to be at least a slight pout. In my fist, his cock throbbed, warm and heavy, begging for my mouth to be wrapped around it. His own hand, still covering mine, squeezed the member, as if reminding me of just how hard he was.

“How could you even ask me that?” Fluttering my eyelashes at him, I sucked his thumb just to add to my already pretty convincing reasoning, enjoying the way his mouth fell open at the feeling of just how warm mine was.

Steve’s P.O.V.

“Then why won’t you let me help?” She whined when she finally released my thumb, and I had to take a deep breath just to remain in full control of my own body. God, how I wished I could fulfill all of my desires at once. Of course, I longed to feel her pretty lips wrapped around my member, but if I closed my eyes and even thought about it, I knew I’d cum on the spot.

“It’s not fair,” I began explaining, reaching out to pull her up by her forearms. “I’ve been dreaming about tasting your pussy for so long, you have no idea.” Her eyes closed with a happy sigh as she felt my breath on her face again. I took advantage of being this close to take her lips on mine once more, but she wouldn’t let me forget about the hard, pressing matter between us, and she kept slowly jerking me off.

“Besides…” I whispered when I needed to pull away from her lips to pant, thanks to her ministrations on my member. “I’m aching for you.” That earned me a mischievous smirk from the woman in my arms. Before I could even question it, she had already turned around, bent over the counter and pulled the skirt of her dress up, exposing her panties-clad pussy to me.

“Just pull it to the side and get in me.” Fuck. This was it, this is how I was going to die. Hypnotized, I reached out to trace her outer lips, easily visible through the ruined cotton thanks to her wetness. It made her moan, holding tighter onto the marble before looking back over her shoulder to watch me as I slowly moved the fabric away.

Bit by bit, I fed her my cock, moving at a snail’s pace mostly because it felt like I’d tear her in two if I decided to abruptly bottom out inside of her. “Was this what you wanted?” I asked, still transfixed by the sight of her pussy so hungrily accepting my cock, especially when I reached around her to stimulate her clit and ease it in.

“Yes.” The way she said it, the wrecked state that was so clear in her voice, had me looking up to meet her eyes and finding her staring back at me with nothing but need.

“You’re so ready to be ruined, huh?”

“By you. Only if it’s by you.” A shiver went down my spine at the combination of her words and the feeling of my first thrust into her. It felt delicious, so overwhelmingly tight that I automatically thrusted into her again, then again and again.

“Yes,” she moaned again, bracing herself on the counter, and with that last confirmation I started to move frantically in and out of her, desperate to bring her the pleasure she’d been denied for so long. Desperate to possess her in the way I’d always dreamed to do.

It was like nothing I’d imagined. It was a thousand times better, to be this connected to the woman I loved, the woman I’d longed to have for so long. Everything was so intense, heightened even further by the power of the emotions flowing through me, that I felt tears rising to my eyes at the thought of this being it, this being the only time I’d get to have her like this - despite whatever reassurances she tried to give me before we kissed. I needed to hear it again.

“Tell me you want me. I need to hear that you need me just as much as I need you,” I begged, a hand curled over her throat as I pulled her body away from the counter and against my chest. “Promise me this isn’t just a one time thing, that you’re not going to leave this bathroom and go back to him after we’re done.”

This time, when our eyes met, it was through the mirror, and I could see the love in mine reflected back in hers, calming my anxieties instantly. “I want you, Steve,” she confided, and I believed her. Of course I believed her. “I want only you, Steve. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

Then I allowed myself to become fully immersed in her, taking in the smell of sex that had flooded the tiny bathroom, the sounds of our animalistic coupling reverberating off the walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” I groaned when I found myself enthralled by the image looking at me from the mirror, her lips open and bruised, indentations from my teeth in them. She looked exactly how I described, ruined, and it was all because of me. “Do you see this? Look at yourself, c’mon.”

The hand that remained around her neck while I pounded her tightened slightly, only enough to startle her into obeying me. “See?” I questioned, eyes meeting hers in the mirror, while my other hand went around her body to play with her clit again. “So damn hot.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I could barely recognize the image staring back at me, with her messy hair and glossy eyes, the satisfied look in her face enough to get me even more aroused. Behind me, Steve kept his harsh thrusts while looking at the scene we both created, his hand choking me slightly.

“How do you think he’d react if he saw just how deeply I’m fucking you?” The question caught me by surprise. For a second, I couldn’t even understand who was the “he” Steve was talking about. It felt like I was his already. Anyone else was merely a secondary character in our story.

His voice was thick as he continued to taunt the man that was still waiting for me outside, the man I’d completely forgotten about ever since Steve kissed me. “How do you think he’d react if he saw just how deeply I’m fucking you? Do you think he’d cry?”

I honestly didn’t know - and didn’t want to think about it. All I knew was that tears were falling down my cheeks from how brutally Steve was ramming me, making me lean away from his chest and brace myself on the counter again.

I barely had the time to warn him that I was cumming, because as my mouth opened to say something, my pussy was already milking him for his own orgasm. I felt his spent painting my insides, warming me up, a physical reminder that this entire moment was, in fact, very real.

My eyes caught my reflection and once more I was taken by surprise by the figure that stared back at me. There was absolutely no denying I’d been roughly fucked, and even if the state of my dress or the mess in my hair didn’t give that away, the satisfied expression in my face made it very clear.

I closed my eyes only for a second, trying to calm down my breathing and figure out where to go from here, but almost immediately, Steve’s fingers were tightening around my hips, calling for my attention.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, sweetheart.” His deep chuckle elicited one of my own, but since his cock was still nestled deep inside of me, the reverberations running through my body ended up turning it into a moan. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave this pussy to deal with that one, but I really should.”

My eyes widened as I realized what he was saying. “You… You’d really do that for me?” He was okay with talking to Tom so I wouldn’t have to look at him, fear his reaction as I announced we were done?

I knew it was weak of me, but I was vulnerable at that moment. I needed this support, as cowardice as it may seem. And Steve understood it apparently, if the way he kissed my neck to relax me was any indication.

“I’d do anything for you. Dealing with that man will be more of a personal pleasure… I don’t make any promises about his physical integrity when I’m done with him, though.” I thought back to some hard memories that I’d have to carry with me due to my relationship with Tom, and I found that I was sincerely okay with whatever it was that Steve would do to him.

Seeing Steve prepare to leave me was hard, though. Having him inside of me, having his warm presence left me feeling safe and supported. Knowing I’d have to be without him, at least for a few minutes, made me cold.

It was like he knew it, because just before leaving, he turned around to look me in the eye and confirmed, “Meet you back in my room?” That had me opening up a smile to him, nodding in excitement. And I couldn’t resist teasing him one last time, hopefully leaving some interesting thoughts to get him back to me as soon as possible.

“I’ll be waiting on all fours.”

#my fics #steve rogers smut #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers reader inserts #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers ff

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