#watching blue velvet right now and whew

[adamshallperish]

my gender is kyle maclachlain character written by david lynch. polite young man with the freakiest energy imaginable. talks so sweet and nice but there's some esoteric shit going on behind those eyes.

[avintagekiss24]

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖗 | 𝖇. 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘

→ pairing: beefy shadow monster!bucky barnes x black!reader

→ word count: 5367

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, dub con, a tinge of somnophilia, exophilia, #monster fucker, smut, sex, rough sex, masturbation, rough masturbation, sex toys, butt stuff, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, voyeurism, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo​ 

wiping the other’s tears away

→ author note: guys, i’m... this is who we are now. we are monster fuckers. this is based on @idga-buck​ INCREDIBLE ask that was bred from this post. i honestly don’t know if this holds a candle to that ask because, whew girl. that shit fucked me up when i first read it! anyway, hope you guys enjoy because i might be planning a little monster fucker series based off of this and another certain someone that is mentioned in the fic.

→ read hirsute

The stress in your shoulders makes it hard to lift your arm once you finally reach your apartment door. It takes everything in you to shove your key into the lock and slam your hip against the old, swollen wooden door to pop it open, but just crossing the threshold into your sanctuary helps soothe your nerves. Everything falls to the floor within an instant— purse, messenger bag, coat— hell, even your keys. Hopping on one foot to remove a light brown, velvet heel, and then the other as you make your way towards your bedroom, ignoring the lively green house plants scattered around window seals and the living room.

You don’t even bother to turn on the lights. Don’t make a pit stop in the kitchen, or even the bathroom to remove your makeup. Hunger pains be damned. There are exactly two things that will help with this mood— an orgasm, and sleep. Thank God one always leads to the other.

It was 10:12am, just two hours into your work day, when you knew what you were going to need to help forget about this day. Emails piling up, phone ringing off the hook, picking up the slack for coworkers because you’re just so well versed in this… we could really use your help. Took its toll. By 10:12am you were ready to scream, punch your perky, always in a good mood cubicle mate, and rip your hair out— so you knew, right then and there, that you were gonna fuck yourself stupid when you got home.

Perverted thoughts lingered all day as you rifled through old court filings and scoured obscure statutes. Thighs tightened as your sex started to dampen at fantasies of being bent over your boss’ desk. Caught yourself staring, more than once, through his open door as he chatted on the phone, bright blue eyes glinting underneath the natural sunlight that poured into his office, crinkling on the sides as he laughed.

Then he would furrow those brows as he read through briefings. Jaw and lips set tight, eyes squinted as he nibbled absentmindedly on his bottom lip. Big hands and thick fingers made the pen in his hand seem entirely too small. Pink tongue darted out to wet pink lips.

You’ve spent many a night with thoughts of Andrew Stephen Barber; and tonight will be no different.

Dark shadows are cast across the floor and bed, small slivers of moonlight creeping in. The sound of your shoes hitting the floor don’t even register in your ears as you wiggle out of your skirt and panties and fall onto the soft, warm, inviting Queen mattress.

Deft fingers make light work of the buttons on your silk blouse but the other hand can’t wait— slipping down your stomach and between sticky, hot flesh. A sharp inhale fills your chest as you rub slow circles against your clit, pangs of quick excitement starting to fire off. Your fingers push down to your slit, prodding and stroking gently as a new wet starts to slick your muscles.

A lazy smile curls onto your face. The stress of the day starts to evaporate as you melt into the mattress, the circles against your clit quickening, hips starting to roll and push up into your hand. The expensive silk of your blouse falls off your shoulders just a bit as you push it away from your chest, exposing two bare tits and quickly thickening nipples.

You take hold of one— tweaking it slow. Pinching and rolling the nub before palming your tit all together, cupping and pushing the mound of flesh up your chest. A swipe of your tongue— rough and torrid— against your nipple makes you grunt deep. Makes your hips jut upward as you prod that now filthy wet slit and hole.

Muscles flex as the sound of your dirty deed fills the empty space. Wet squeaks and sloshes bounce off the walls as fingers thrash back and forth and up and down against your clit. Heavy, thick thuds of your palm pounding against your body when one, two, three fingers finally slip inside— but they aren’t enough. Not wide enough or long enough to feed the hunger.

Then… there’s a shift. The atmosphere in your apartment— your room specifically— just changes on a dime. The tiny hairs on your body start to stand on end, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your eyes slide open, blinking up at the ceiling as your pumping hand slows down to just a creep before stilling completely. An already racing heart starts to beat harder, lips part, eyes and limbs completely frozen in place as fear strikes you.

You’ve felt this before, at random times since you moved in. Sometimes in the shower or in the kitchen, when you’re getting ready for work, or catching up on a show— but mainly at times like this. When you’re stretched out on your bed, naked, fingers rooted deep in your cunt, when you feel like you’re being watched. Like there’s a thousand eyes on you all at once.

There’s even a chill that takes over the room, sometimes getting so cold that for a brief moment, you can see your breath. You’ve gone to management a few times, who of course did nothing— but a few of your neighbors put your mind at ease, it happens to them sometimes too. It struck you odd that it was mainly just your female neighbors who experienced the random chills, but you brushed it off. You live on the southside of the complex, the sun gets blocked by the surrounding buildings. You also live on the first floor— heat rises, cold sinks. It happens.

You swallow hard, shutting your eyes, trying to center yourself again. A small laugh escapes your lips seconds later— you’re ridiculous. Maybe it's time to lay off the horror movies for a while.

Shrugging out of your blouse the rest of the way, you roll onto your side and pull open the drawer of your nightstand. Out comes the cute little heart shaped butt plug, complete with a pretty pink crystal gem. A small bottle of water based lube is next, and then, the pièce de résistance. Your ten inch tall, two inch wide realistic dildo.

Your stomach tightens with anticipation as you fumble with the flip cap of the small purple bottle of lube. Just a dollop is enough to coat the steel plug, the excess on your fingers used to wet your warm, puckered hole. Melting back into the mattress, you roll your shoulders, let your eyes flutter closed, and grab your bottom lip between your teeth as you massage your rim with the rounded tip, gently pushing.

A soft moan vibrates in your throat as your body opens up. Your hole twitches, clenching tight around the toy as it disappears with a quick pop as soon as the widest part is shoved in, leaving nothing to be seen but the pink heart flush against your hot rim. You draw your legs up, calves pressed against the backs of your thighs, butterflying open as you drag the fake cock through your folds— against your clit— using your slick to lubricate the soft silicone.

Fingers find your nub soon after, slapping quick, before stroking the delicate flesh as you start to tease your slit. The cock head slips in easy, but you're so tight, so worked up and eager, muscles swollen, that it takes a little more effort to swallow the rest. Tiny little wet squeaks fall from your lips, body tenses and curls inward as you push, push, push— mouth falling open, face splintering with pleasure.

It takes not even ten seconds for your body to adjust, hips wiggling and shifting to get comfortable, before you're pulling the massive toy out and shoving it back in. You start to murmur, indiscernible, clipped words filtering through full lips— a hot tongue slipping out, sweeping over teeth as your hips start to get into it.

You’re soon too far gone to notice the black shadows moving around the room. Chalk up the feeling of the little hairs standing on end, the goosebumps popping up across your body to your arousal— and not the two piercing blue eyes that illuminate at the edge of your bed.

~~~

Bucky could reach out and touch you he’s so close now. He’s careful still— almost getting caught by you earlier, his anticipation for your almost nightly show getting the best of him. Making him sloppy.

He’s haunted these walls, these rooms, these buildings for decades, if not a century or more. Seen generation after generation moving in and out, kids growing up into adults, adults growing old, the old dying off— but you— fuck, you’ve got to be his goddamn favorite of them all.

Deep brown skin. Lithe and delicate. A soft little quiet thing, engrossed in her solitude and house plants, more than happy to shut the rest of the world out more often than not. You’re gentle. Your soul, your physicality, except in these moments. When you fuck yourself like this, and it doesn’t matter when— in the mornings when the sun is soft, in the late afternoons, your body covered in the oranges and pinks of the sky, late at night in the absolute darkness with nothing but the moon and the shadows— you’re anything but gentle.

Unrestrained and wild you are when in the throes of your arousal. Writhing and loud, a thin sheen of sweat on your brow. Eyes clamped closed so tight sometimes sweet little tears squeeze out and slip down your cheeks. Two perfect tits, mounds of soft flesh, jiggle and bounce with the aggressive thrashes of your fingers against a glistening, sensitive nub.

Nights like tonight are his favorite. When you’re acutely aware that he’s here, but too scared to really give it much thought. When the fear strikes you stiff. When you pull out that monstrous fake cock and spread yourself wide— stretch that pretty, pink, wet cunt. The squelch, the squish of the foreign object being jammed into hot, distended muscles.

Your smell. So sweet and pungent— distinctly you. It’s constantly on the tip of Bucky’s tongue, filling his nostrils, swirling in his head and chest— taunting him. Intoxicating him. Begging and beseeching him to just reach out and touch. Taste. Oh, to have your scent— your flavor— on his lips to savor. He wants to bury his face between those thighs, drown between them. Slither into you and curl up, take up residence.

Bucky’s gotten bold as of late— now, not even waiting until you’re fucked out and sex drunk, falling into a peaceful, post orgasm slumber to move around. No. Now he shifts while you’re still awake, still fucking— toy sowed deep, fingers slapping, hips snapping, back arching.

You’ve snapped your head towards him once or twice over time as you’ve caught his movement in the corner of your eye. Sat straight up, mouth hanging, eyes wide, chest heaving as you stared into the darkness�� waiting. Scared shitless. You even tried to cover yourself, hands over your tits, legs closing into each other.

It made him laugh.

You’re already his. That body claimed— no need to cover it up now.

Even tonight, he’s even bolder still. Right at the edge of your bed, peering on. It’s a damn near perfect view when you get like this— sloppy. Legs splayed open, heels dug into the mattress, hips arched off the bed. Your slick glistens underneath the moonlight, splashed on your thighs, strings connected between two puffy, balmy lips. It’s nothing but an invitation— an invitation that he can’t ignore for much longer.

He pushes his knee into the mattress, and then the other, his substantial weight dipping it. Piercing blue eyes snap towards your face as he stalls, waiting for any indication that you feel him there— a smile curling onto his lips when it doesn’t come. So he pushes closer, settles right at your feet. Reaches out, hovers long, black fingers over your chest— so close that his pointed, sharp nails graze your skin.

Makes you gasp.

Bucky snaps his hand back, but you don’t stop. You shiver. Goosebumps ever present on every inch of your skin— but you don’t stop. In fact, you get faster, harder. Pounding that fake cock into your cunt, pushing your hips higher as you slap and knead at that sticky, swollen nub.

You like it.

You like his touch.

Pride swells in Bucky’s chest. Maybe you’re much more receptive than he originally thought. Maybe it’s the fear itself— knowing you’re being watched by something, not someone— is what turns you on. And it makes Bucky bolder still.

He looms over you, hand pressing into the mattress right by your head. Head tilting as he leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek. You jump again, mewl loud when his nails scrape against your skin, between your jiggling, bouncing tits. He wants to fuck you so bad. Stuff you full of his monster cock— he knows you can take it. Knows you can stretch wide for his veiny, dripping prick. Suck those pretty tits into his wet mouth, those hard, perky nipples between his sharp teeth. But he won’t, not now.

You’re so close.

And this is always the best part.

So he pushes away, away from the bed. Hovers up near the ceiling, eyes shifting from their brilliant blue to pitch black so he can enjoy your finale. Then he’ll wait a while, maybe a few nights— maybe a few hours, who knows—  to encourage an encore.

With a little help, of course.

~~~

You cry out, shrieking into the darkness as the coil planted deep threatens to snap. The chill in the room has your nipples hard, but the heat blooming across your skin has you damp and sticky. There’s gusts of something— splashing over your naked body— but the windows are closed. The air conditioning turned completely off.

It feels like breath. You’d swear it— and it’s so close. Like someone, or something, is right on top of you. Shudders wrack your body, adrenaline rushes as ice floods your veins. Alarm, panic, sheer horror gripping you.

But, you cum before you can rationalize it. Before you can pinpoint it.

It’s so sweet, the orgasm, so deep as the warmth of it spreads like wildfire. Toes curl hard, so hard they go numb as the waves crash, each one harder than the one before. Heart in your throat, the blood rush in your ears. Muscles spasming, clenching and clamping down around the silicone cock, clit jumping with each contraction of your cunt.

It lasts for awhile— your body knowing that this is what you needed. So you ride it out as long as you can, fingers still rubbing and thrashing against your clit until it’s too sensitive. You stuff the cock into you one last time and leave it there, fixed so deep as your body falls back against the mattress. Your asshole constricts around the plug, twitching and fluttering as the last jerks of your hips start to subside.

Chest heaves with deep, long, ragged breaths. Tits pushing up and down, jiggling, stomach flexing as you go limp. Limp and fucked out. Asshole and cunt used, hot— weeping lube and cum. You’re a mess. A beautiful, sated, sloppy mess.

A lazy smile on your face, eyes hooded, you stare up at the ceiling. Unaware that you’ve found two black eyes just perfectly— stare right into them as they peer back at you.

Sleep starts to pull, a mushy, hazy brain giving in all too easily, not giving you time to recognize that you’re being watched again. That there’s a presence looming just over you— all around you. Or maybe, it's a mechanism. Maybe you don’t want to recognize it. So you roll over onto your side, shimmy underneath the blankets to gather some warmth. Shut your eyes and give into the sleep— vow to stop watching those cheesy scary movies so late at night.

They’re making you paranoid.

-

The sting of cold on your extremities makes you stir. Letting out a yawn, you flex your toes, pulling the blankets up to your chin as a chill ripples through your bones. You roll onto your back, and push out a breath, not opening your eyes to see the white puff of air. Another shiver, a deep one, rolls through you again, making you shift underneath the blankets and push your face into the pillow.

Moments later is when you perceive a warmth. A soft moan trembles in your throat as you smash the back of your hand against your face, still teetering between sleep and consciousness. The ache between your legs grows harder to ignore— the warmth, starting to sear. Your hips buck soft. Another groan scratches at the back of your throat.

You’re writhing within minutes. A white hot molten pooling in the pit of your stomach and spreading out to the tips of your fingers and toes. The cold nothing but a distant memory as the familiar burn of lechery encompasses your tight body.

It feels so real— a long, forked, rough tongue lapping at your folds, swishing around your clit. You jump suddenly, gasping deep when something like teeth, so many sharp teeth, nibble and bite at the meat of your thighs. There's pressure, pressing down on your stomach and wrapped around your thigh as you draw your knees up slow, digging the balls of your feet into the mattress. The pressure, it’s warm and vast— something like a palm… there’s scratching, quick little tickles over your stomach, your tits, your ankles and calves.

Fingernails. Long, jagged fingernails.

You give in to the fantasy— the dream. Not opening your eyes, not giving into the consciousness that tugs at you, not wanting to lose this euphoria. The pressure on your stomach gets harder, heightening the sensation of the tongue against your core and almost pinning your writhing hips to the sturdy mattress.

The tongue, rough and wet, slithers through your folds, flicking quick against your clit before the mouth sucks you right up— lips, clit— right into it. Tongue flattening against your slit, teasing your pink opening. Then, oh God, and then it slithers inside, that tongue. Massages your hot, swollen muscles from the inside. Your body jolts up, away from the mattress, a breathy, drawn-out snarl bursting from your lips.

You fall back against the mattress— liquify into it really and let your hands roam, finding your taut, thick nipples. Tweaking and rolling them, pinching between deft fingers before palming your tits feeling the goosebumps that have popped up on your flesh again. Your knees fall apart, legs splaying open, putting your swollen cunt on full display for this invisible force.

It’s not long before your hips are jutting up into the dream tongue, the lips, the teeth hard and fast, a sharp sting piercing your clit just as you start to cum again. Loud, shaky moans fill the room as your hips pulse and your back arches. Cursing, whaling as the dream tongue swipes and flicks, lips wrap around your nub again, sucking hard, coaxing every last drop of your release out of you.

Thighs, stomach, arms, cunt burn as a delicious stretch, a used ache settles deep in the exploited muscles. Long, hoarse breaths fill your chest, the air rushing so fast, and yet so slow that it makes you dizzy. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, everything is just so fucking heavy.

Brain is mush again, cloudy and dense, stupid with ardor. Lazy, broken moans vibrate through your vocal chords, body twitches with quick aftershocks every now and again, making you giggle. You feel like you’ve been hit by a mack truck. It’s so nice.

Once your breathing has slowed back to normal, you roll your head towards the window, open your eyes just enough to see the moon cutting into the room. Relief floods through your veins, happy to find it’s still night time, still dark, your room still moody, giving you time to fall back asleep with the pleasant thoughts of whatever just happened— but you’re a mess again. Skin sticky and damp, panties ruined. Your eyes droop and close as you push out a soft breath, hand slipping down your body. You should really clean up.

Maybe in a few minutes. You push your knees together slowly, swaying them back and forth as your fingertips find your clit, toying with it gently. They calm your jumbled nerves quite nicely and immediately— the touch familiar. Your fingers stretch out, tips push down just a little lower as you smile stupid and lazy and blink slowly up at the ceiling.

The smile doesn’t last long.

Your eyes pop open as a simultaneous sharp gasp fills your chest with cold air. Blood runs ice cold through your veins.

“Good,” a scratchy voice sounds as your fingers push through a tuft of thick hair just between your legs, hot breath sticking to tacky flesh.

Shallow, quick breaths squeak through your teeth, eyes wide, lips and chin trembling as your limbs grow heavy— oh so heavy. Frozen. You slam your eyes shut when a hand slides slowly up your side, serrated nails skipping across your skin. A sob chokes out as you slam your eyes shut, fear gripping every inch of your body.

The wet, long, hot tongue of your dreams swipes at your core again but you’re still sensitive— jumpy— hips pushing down into the mattress to get away from it. A second hand grabs your hip, squeezes it hard, stilling your lower half as it laps at you again. The crawling hand finds your left tit, cups it— kneads it slow— rolling the thick bud between even thicker fingers.

“Look at me.” The voice sounds again, like gravel, low and rough.

Your clit is sucked into an instant warmth, a wide, flat tongue massaging— rolling— gently. A soft, tiny little noise thrums in your throat as a shudder ripples through already irritated muscles. The sound pleases whatever is between your legs, as it chuckles deep, the vibrations adding to the sensation of its tongue.

It pinches your nipple— quick, hard— and bites down into the meat of your thigh while also squeezing it with it’s other massive hand, “I want you to look at me.” you hesitate— and it doesn’t like it, “Look at me.”

The chill in its voice forces your eyes open, but you keep them on the ceiling as silent tears trickle down the side of your face and onto your pillow. An influx of air fills your lungs when a hand pushes up to your face. A thumb swipes underneath your eye gently before an index finger curls to wipe away the wet emotion.

“You’re pretty when you cry,” it says, a little softer, still rubbing your cheek slowly, “Look at me.”

Against your better judgement, fighting through the fear, you blink, shifting your eyes towards your drawn-up legs. There are two big eyes, unnaturally blue, probing and upturned, staring back at you, disappearing in the dark as it blinks before they settle back on you. In fact, they stay on you as it’s tongue flicks out at you again, sweeps through your folds, teasing your opening, your clit again. It palms your tit, squeezing before sitting up, exposing it’s true size.

Your eyes follow slowly upward as it towers over you, it’s knees pressing into the mattress, dipping it deep with its weight. You struggle to breathe, eyes flutter quick as your lips tremble, taking in the umbra. There’s a wide chest, thick biceps and forearms and hands and fingers that push your legs back— towards your chest and stomach. Stocky thighs and a—

You gulp slow, sitting up on your elbows as your eyes zero in on the throbbing, weeping cock between its legs. The moon illuminates the pulsing veins running the impressive length, the wet, red, dripping cockhead— cum already dribbling out, splashing on your skin. It’s hot and silky— dense, the cum, as it wipes the spot away with it’s thumb, a nail cutting into your skin.

It grabs itself, strokes it’s massive cock slow as it drags its eyes along your naked body. Another shudder trembles through you when it teases your cunt with it’s cockhead, pressing into your clit, dragging through your folds, prodding at your slit. You let your head drop slightly, let your eyes close to slits, let your mouth drop as it’s fingers skip up and down your thighs, it’s jagged, black nails tickling you.

Errant hips canter upward, pushing your clit against its tip again, coating it with your slick before you let it settle back against your opening.

“Now that you can see me, beautiful,” it’s raspy voice sounds, starting to push into you, “I want you to scream.”

It juts into you hard, pulling a loud scream out of you— just what it wanted. You pant as it pushes, deep, deep, deep, until its hips are flush with yours, cock completely sunk. It doesn’t move right away, lets you wiggle and twitch, hiss and grunt as you adjust to the size— the absolute fullness. Stretched so wide, clasped so tight around this pulsating cock that you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

But you’ll risk it.

It locks one of your legs around it’s waist, throws the other over its shoulder, slipping its massive hand down the length, down your calf, over your knee, along your thigh until it’s fingers settle on your cunt— on your clit. Slow circles are drawn into your flesh, a gentle pressure applied as it pulls back, cock dragging out of your death grip. You hiss as it sinks back in, reaching something deep.

It’s blistering after that. Within seconds, hips are snapping, skin slapping against… skin? You aren’t even sure. Long fingers are everywhere, tits, stomach, legs, cunt— gripping, groping, pinching. They venture up to your chin, up to your parted, swollen lips, where they linger. You send wide, innocent eyes up to its blues, tits sliding up and down as you lunge with each thrust— and open your mouth wider, sliding your tongue along the tip of its finger.

When a husky moan rumbles through its chest, your heart soars unexpectedly. It’s pleased with your eagerness— your reception.

You’re empty suddenly. A strong hand grips your side, pulls you roughly down the bed. Flips you over before yanking your hips upward, propping you up on your knees. And then, you’re pinned— an unyielding grip around the back of your neck holding you in place. You grunt and start to whimper,  another bout of fright coursing through your veins as it smashes the side of your face into the sheets and pillows.

It fucks back into you slow, a long, shuddering groan spilling out of your trembling lips, “My pet,” it speaks again, squeezing the back of your neck a little harder, “Such a sweet little thing.”

Reaching back, your fingers graze over a sinewy thigh, taking hold as you start to spring forward with each drive of its hips. You slam your eyes closed, more emotion squeezing out of them. The dull burn is back in the pit of your stomach. Your toes and fingers start to curl and flex as each stroke gets sweeter and sweeter, hitting that deep little spot within.

Goosebumps pop up again. Heat blooms across your skin, filling your face and chest and stomach. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth as two pouty lips form a perfect little “o” as you start to shriek, each sound coming faster and faster, louder and louder. Your fingers find your nub again, rubbing and slapping to set this release in motion. The sound of your slick is sloppy, wet— and gorgeous, to both you and it.

You’re cursing, sobbing, begging within minutes, teetering right on the edge. It starts to thumb at your asshole, rubbing the rim gently, pushing just inside— coaxing you on.

That’s all it takes. You tense hard— toes curl, fists ball, stomach clenches— and then stiffen as your orgasm hits. A white hot flushing through as you quake, cunt spasming around it’s heavy cock. Jammed full, orgasm rippling, fingers still thrashing against your constricting clit, you’re dizzy, warm all over, sweaty and freezing cold all at the same time.

Your companion— this monster of the night, lurking in the shadows— hammers on behind you, pumping, gripping, squeezing, pushing you down further into the mattress as his strokes get sharper. Stronger. More forceful.

It gets loud. Growling so deep and heavy that the sound shakes the walls— the bed. God, the poor neighbors. It grips your hip with one hand so hard you yelp in pain, hands flailing, trying to grip and grab anything they can as it fucks into you.

One, two more jabs and it stills quick— and that’s when you feel it. Another white hot, this time all concentrated in your overstimulated, tight, wet cunt. Long ribbons of cum, silk soft and warm, fill you up, up, up— to the brim. It’s cock veins pulsate, it’s girth seemingly growing wider, stretching you more as it unloads. Cock jumping in your tight grasp as cum weeps from it.

You take it all, humming loud and proud, panting as you feel it’s seed spill out, down the inside of your thigh.

It drags out slow, as if not wanting to at all. Like it likes the feeling of your messy, cum filled cunt all wrapped around him. You feel that swollen cock head through your folds again, slowly pushing up and down your clit, teasing your slit. A finger, and then another glance over your asshole— lovingly. Softly. Massaging the twitching rim before burying it’s hard cock between your cheeks, slapping you with it.

“No more,” you plead, voice small and broken and pathetic, “Please, I can’t.”

Another chuckle rumbles through its chest, “Ok sweet girl,” there’s a hand on the back of your head, stroking curly, damp, surely tangled hair, “Such a good girl.”

Hands are back on your skin again, fingers pushing and pulling, adjusting you on the mattress. You’re flat now, splayed out on your belly, legs spread, hands shoved underneath your pillows and head. Balmy skin, puffy flesh is soothed by slow gushes of breath, making you jump and whine more— whimper more. The bed sinks again as it moves, pulled again, your back up against a massive chest and hard stomach.

It wraps around you, slinging an arm and a leg over you, enveloping you in its warmth. Rids your face of the wetness, pushing the remaining tears away with its thumb. Nuzzles in close— a scratchy cheek against your own.

A heavy hand over your heart.

“I like this,” it says soft, tapping along with your heartbeat, “The rhythm.”

You hum again, happily fucked out and cock drunk, already feeling an ache settling into your muscles and bones. Hips and ass push back into its hips, pushing its dense cock against you— wanting to feel it resting against your cunt, “You got a name?”

“Brarthronoz.”

“Excuse me?” you giggle through a deep yawn as your eyes flutter.

It— he nuzzles again, pushing his face closer, “Bucky is fine, pet.”

“Bucky,” you sigh a little, “I like that.”

You fall asleep with the soft rhythm of his breath against your neck.

-

When you wake, he’s gone— but you kinda figured that anyway. The oranges of the sky and rising sun chases away all the shadows. You go about your routine but a little slower— inflamed, throbbing arms and legs make showering and brushing your teeth a little harder this morning.

You look for him though, in the corner of your little kitchen, in that small spot where the sun just never quite reaches.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you find a pair of bright blue eyes fixed on you, a little wink encouraging you further.

“Toast?” You ask cheekily, a wide smile on your face as you offer him a plate.

[angelguk]

dedicated to the lovely @himboksj​ happy (very late almost criminally late) bday present! so whew... there’s a lot happening in this one! return of jock!jk and his wonderful girl oc now featuring!!: squirting, creampie, oral (fem receiving), mild choking, biting, boobs in face!!, anime tiddy mentions, praise kink galore, multiple orgasms, the use of a vibrator, jaykay is sick actually, over-stimulation, mild spit kink, dommish!jk, (redacted) pet name, mentions (and watching) of porn, everybody is in love and horny, crying cause the dick too good, fingering but not really. 5k of words that should have never left my brain. listen to continuum & nothing without you by tanerelle (kindly check masterlist for the pretty boy drabble mini masterlist if you want to read the rest of this au!)

Jeongguk didn’t mean to go snooping through your things. It was 100% accidental. He just remembered that you kept some athletic tape in your drawers because Jeongguk usually needed to wrap his knee or ankle after practice and you ensured that he always had some near (in case he came crashing at yours instead of going back to his dorm after Coach brutalised him during drills). And, anyway, you were at a point in your relationship where Jeongguk didn’t necessarily feel the need to outright ask you if he could poke around your drawers. Of course, he respected your space, but it’s not like he wasn’t nosy when you were best friends. You were in the shower too, he didn’t want to bang on the door and ask where you kept the tape.

Imagine his surprise when he reached the final drawer in your dresser, idly rummaging around for the blue athletic tape he knows is buried somewhere, and his fingers latch around a silky cloth instead. He knew what it was immediately, the shape a dead give-away. A discreet bullet vibrator, stuffed under your unnecessarily large collection of fluffy winter socks. Perhaps he stopped breathing, the twitch in his loose workout shorts undeniable. He’s not surprised that you own one and yet, his brain can’t fathom you using it. Even now, Jeongguk’s still growing used to seeing you come undone around his length, the feeling of your walls tight on his cock as your mumble his name. It drives him mad. He’s seen you in every kind of state; sobbing hysterically, laughing until tears slip from your pretty eyes, stumbling drunk in the streets, eyebrows furrowed with anger at him, that soft tiny grin you grant him on good days, the pout your lips settle into when you don’t get your way. He never fathomed he’d ever see you in that way, skin flushed with heat, eyes cloudy with ecstasy, your heat pressed against his own. He finds new ways to fall in love with you every day but it reaches new heights when he’s deep inside of you. Maybe he’s mildly obsessed with seeing you unravel, but that’s a secret he keeps to himself.

He does take a peek at your toy though, a soft velvet-like purple vibrator. It’s cute actually, something you would definitely purchase. But then the sound of water hitting the shower tiles slows down and Jeongguk swiftly tucks the toy back into your drawers.

“Oh?” You say when you open the door to him standing stiff in your room. The steam from the shower wraps around your figure in gentle wisps, sunlight filtering in from the window behind you, the image of an innocent angel appearing right before his eyes. “You’re here.”

“Practise ended early,” Jeongguk returns, his gaze trailing the droplets of water that slip down your skin. You smell good, just like that vanilla and peach shower gel that you dearly love. And the towel hiding your body is loose. It’s not his fault that he’s hard in his pants. When he moves to hug you, your face contorts, a downward tug at your lips that Jeongguk longs to change with a kiss.

“I’m wet,” you whine, brushing past him. “Go shower, you always stink after practise.”

He huffs, strong arms catching your fleeing figure and quickly wrapping you into his chest. “No. Don’t want to. I missed you and you can’t even hug me? You’re so mean to me.”

“Guk-” Jeongguk cuts that complaint with his face in your neck, lips colouring your skin rouge with a kiss that intends to leave a mark. “You can’t,” you mumble, but your fingers settle on the nape of his neck, tangling in the growing strands of his hair. “I have to get to work soon.”

“It won’t take long,” Jeongguk returns, feathering kisses across your skin as he nudges you to the bed. “I promise. Let me do this, I’ve missed you, bunny.”

Your towel is discarded somewhere in the amble to your sheets, your thighs wrapped around Jeongguk’s face a second later. He watches your body carefully, teasing your clit with purpose before he allows himself to slip his tongue deep. He notes the twitches in your thighs, the way your buck your hips against his face. He ignores his desire, for the time being, nose buried at the apex of your cunt, tongue covered in your slick, his lips latched on your clit. You like it fast, purposeful sharp flicks that make you squirm until Jeongguk has to pin your hips down, the lave on your heat brutal. His brain can’t help but wonder how you’d behave with your toy grazing your clit and his cock burrowed deep. You’re so sensitive, response to even the softest kiss he lays on your cunt. Would you be wetter than this? You’re already dripping down his face, his mouth glistening with your desire. But he wants to see if you can do more than this, squirm more than this, make a bigger mess than this. The thought surfaces as he feels your body lock, the tension in your limbs drawn high as your hands reach for his. You cum on his face with your fingers intertwined, his name falling from your lips as the afternoon sunlight hits your skin. It’s then and there that Jeongguk decides, with his mouth wet from your release, he’s going to see you squirt one day. For him and him alone.

He waits for the moment to naturally strike, silently scheming wicked thoughts every time you crawl into his sheets. It happens one evening, an empty bottle of wine at the foot of your bed and hentai porn playing brazenly on his laptop screen. Somewhere between downing the bottle and cuddling in his sheets Jeongguk had mentioned an uncanny resemblance between your gigantic chest and the anime boobies he’d grown fond of since his introduction to hentai. You’d immediately dismissed him, whacking him hard on the head and then Jeongguk had to prove it to you, opening his favourite website and pulling up a video that had your jaw-dropping.

“Your boobs do that, you know,” he says. Which grants him a sharp kick to the shin.

“Jeongguk, what is wrong with you?” He can tell you’re not annoyed, but there’s a lilt in your voice that makes him pause, doe eyes flicking to your face. You may be kicking him under the blankets but your eyes are stuck to the video, a distance glaze colouring your gaze. He can tell by the way your thighs draw together that you’re not as averse to this as you pretend to be.

“Turn it off,” you mumble.

“Why? I can tell that you like it.”

“Jeon, I’m not joking.” There’s a glare paired with that sentence, but he reads right through it.

“Fine,” Jeongguk offers, fingers already typing what’s been on his mind since the day he discovered your vibrator.

“What are you—oh.”

There’s a quiet lull. He clicks on a video that’s more familiar to him than he’ll ever willingly admit out loud. It starts the way Jeongguk prefers it to, with a man on his knees, his head buried between the thighs of a girl.

“What are you doing, Guk?” A warning. A question. Jeongguk is not sure what you mean by that and he’s too hesitant to take a look at your face to decipher the tone in your voice just yet. He takes the jump instead, hoping you don’t mind the fantasies of his mind.

“Have you ever squirted?” Somewhere between the exchange of words in Jeongguk's room, the man on his laptop screen slipped two fingers into the girl. It doesn’t help that your boobs are falling right out of your loose camisole, resting right on his bare arm.

“Jeongguk,” you return. “Answer my question.”

“Answer mine first,” he looks at you then, trying hard to read your eyes. There’s no heat in your face, just an innocence that colours your features. Wide eyes, your legs draw together, a hard swallow that he sees in the low lights that illuminate the room.

“No,” you say, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “So why are you showing me squirting porn?”

It’s then that Jeongguk realises he wants to ruin you. As horribly cliché as it sounds, he longs for that. And the urge for it doubles when your gaze falters, flicking quickly for the screen before drifting back to his. The couple is still fucking on his screen, hard quick loud thrusts that travel to the pit in his stomach fast. He’s hard in his briefs, a painful throb ebbing through his length when your hand drops to his chest.

“Guk?”

He shuts the laptop, the moans cut off, a heated silence taking its place. The bed feels too big when he gets up, ignoring the confused look you give him.

The vibrator is exactly where he left it, oddly comforting because it means you don’t use it. You have him after all. But he needs the toy for tonight.

“What? Guk? What’s go—when did you find that?” You’re embarrassed, he knows it from the way you squirm under the blanket. He glances down at it, finger pressing the switch that turns it on. A quick run through shows ten decent vibrators at different levels, it’s rather intense even in his hands, the low buzz that it emits filling the room forbidding before he shuts it off.

“A couple of weeks ago,” he says. You groan, your head dropping into your hands.

“Put it away, Guk! And don’t go through my stuff ever again.”

“Why? I think it’s cute.”

“Cu—what is the point of this, Jeongguk? I don’t get what you’re trying to do?” And there you go, staring at him with those wide ingenuous eyes. So trusting, so clueless. He draws closer then, considers taking his underwear off so you can see just what you do to him. But when your gaze drops he halts. It’s not about him tonight. It’s about you.

The bed dips under the weight of his as he says it, the toy still in his hands. “I want to see if you can squirt.” He sees the way your back stiffens, the raise in your brow.

“I’ve never done that,” you splutter, falling back as Jeongguk crawls over you.

“I know. But you can.”

“I can’t, Guk. I don’t think I can.” Your pretty lips are drawn into a reluctant pout, but there’s a bright curiosity sparking through your gaze that Jeongguk knows all too well.

“See, you don’t think you can. You said that before. And then I made you cum five times in a row.”

“No that was different—”

“We’re just seeing if you can. We don’t have to if you don’t want to but I think it’d be fun to try.”

You pause, trying to ignore the heat blooming between your legs as you weigh the decision before you. There were times when you thought you were about to, an edge in your orgasms that felt dangerous. But your body never let you go there fully, drawing back from your slipped from heights you couldn’t handle. You can tell Jeongguk won’t grant you the same precautions. His eyes a dark, toeing a line that feels forbidding. The covers are gently pulled from you, Jeongguk staying silent as you ponder. But the moment the cool night air hits your skin you know what he’s asking for. It’s a strange level of vulnerability, a bareness that makes your skin prickle. He wants something that you’ve never given anyway else — not even yourself. It’s a lot to ask for and his directness makes you pause. The hesitation crumbles when his hand settles on your thigh, wide warm palm gently nudging your clasped legs apart.

“We really don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jeongguk says, honey eyes locked on you. You know he’s being honest; he wouldn’t push it if you said no. And yet, something twists in your stomach. You want this. The realisation is sudden and you don’t know if it’s because of how perfect Jeongguk looks tonight. Chestnut curls a messy halo on his head and his shirt hanging loose from his broad shoulders. Or maybe it’s how he looks at you as if this is the only he’s ever really wanted in the world. As if you’re the only thing he’s ever really wanted.

“I want to—I mean I want to try.” You let yourself fall open then, something clicking as Jeongguk slots right against you perfectly, your sleeping shorts bunching up when his hips roll with intent. His lips land on your neck a moment later, a kiss so soft that you don’t feel it at first, lost in the way he hits your clit when he bucks into you. Jeongguk draws you back with a bite, one sharp enough to leave you gasping, your back arching from the sheets. He lets his hands slip under then, the vibrator momentarily forgotten as he maps your skin, lips feather-light once more, kisses gentle enough to leave you delirious.

“So good to me,” Jeongguk mumbles, eyes drifting to your lips. He draws close then, mouth fitting yours in a dreamlike perfectness. It’s flavoured with wine and want, a clear hunger in how he parts your lips. The hands that grip you are hard but his lips are gentle, savouring the taste of you against his mouth as if he wants to commit it to memory. The softness of the act has your skin tingling, bright and wild yet slow like the turning of the Sun. When you part, the air is different — charged, the current that swims through the atmosphere finding a home in your body as it settles in the depth of your gut. Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to ponder, mouth trailing from the corner of your lips to the hollow of your neck where he bites. It hurts enough to shock your senses, sweeping you back from the heavenly haze to the alarming reality of what he’s about to do to you. Your whimper hits the air as his tongue presses into the mark, painting your skin dark. A pointed reminder. You’d thought Jeongguk would be possessive, but sometimes he surprises you with it. The purposeful touches, the harsh bruises he likes to leave high on your neck. Or anywhere on your body, really. There are times he’d press his fingertips into them when you’re willing enough to let him choke you, the flash in your eyes spurring his hips forward.

For now, he busies himself with breathing a new one to life, one you know he’ll play with tomorrow — or later tonight if you give him the chance. Your brain can’t think that fair, zoning out as his mouth works a claim on your skin. Eager fingertips are drifting down your thighs, brushing past the band of your sleeping shorts. It’s expected that you’re already wet, but Jeongguk delights in his find with a muted moan in your neck. His fingers don’t go further though, grazing light against the damp fabric of your underwear. The swivel of your hips is automatic but Jeongguk quickly stills it with a hard press of his palm into your skin. You’re forced into the mattress, freezing when he finally wanders from your neck to your chest. So slow, wet lips idly trailing until his face lands between your chest.

“Gukkie,” you hadn’t realised how gone you already sounded until you spoke, voice wavering. He hums in response, non-committal, his hands shifting from your hips as he focuses on freeing you from your top so he can get your boobs in his mouth.

“Don’t tease me today.” You’re trying to sound firm, pliantly raising your arms so he can get you bare. But that firmness shrinks when your eyes land on his. So dark in the dwindling moonlight bleeding through your half-open blinds.

“Why?” There’s that smile of his, one corner hung higher than the either. You’ve sunk yourself in a sea brimming with sharks. “You sound cute when you whine, bunny.”

“Jeong — fuck.” There’s no point in protesting when he’s buried himself between your chest, tongue already toying with your nipple. Too many guys before him had misunderstood how to touch you there, but Jeongguk knew — he had learned. Studied your body so that he knows when to nip or kiss, shifting from pain to pleasure until the line blurred and so did your vision, until the only sound filling the room are harsh breaths and the quiet murmur of his name. Your hands eventually stray to his head, the heat in your core demanding attention as you guide him down. Jeongguk complies, not because he doesn’t want to tease you any further, but because he loves tasting you too much to ever say no.

The sight he finds sends an ache down his length, already hard but now leaking into the fabric of his grey sweats. You spread yourself so easily for him, light pink panties coloured dark with your wetness.

“Cute,” Jeongguk whispers, falling naturally into his place between your legs. It wasn’t meant to grace the air, but he’s glad it did when he notes the bashful smile tugging at your lips and how you twist to shift your head into the pillows the closer he gets. Which, honestly, makes him pause. He wants you to watch, needs you to. Something in the base of his brain needing constant affirmation that he’s making you feel good driving his next set of movements.

The hand on your chin is unexpected and adamant. You can’t help but give in, wide-eyed when Jeongguk forces your gaze onto him. “Need you to look bunny, can you do that for me?” The nod you give him is instinctual, heat blossoming in your bones when Jeongguk smiles, satiated and proud. Perhaps you should have put up more of a fight, but how could have known what he would do with only the tender touches he’d lift as your guide. Even the quick kiss he plants on your clothed cunt revealed nothing of what’s to come. So gentle as he pulls he fabric down your hips, discarding it somewhere in the sheets, his eyes never leaving the wetness on your lips.

“My pretty girl,” he says, nipping the inside of your thigh. You squirm at that, futile because Jeongguk just held you closer. “All mine, right bunny?”

“All yours,” you return, voice far and your mind slipping from your hands. Jeongguk apparently takes that to heart because he devours you, nose burrowed in the apex of your cunt, breathing you in as his tongue mapped the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take long for your legs to wrap around his head, back raising from the bed and the drip of your slick coating your inner thighs. Yet, Jeongguk relishes it, forgoing breathing as he eats you open, toying with your clit as if that was his sole life purpose. You forget the world with a speed that should concern you, thighs trembling with each determined swirl of his tongue over that bud. Again and again, until you spill into his mouth, wet and creamy, creating a mark of your own on his lips. He keeps you there, unrelenting even when your whines hit high and your chest heaves. There’s a ringing in your ears as the high wanes away, which is swiftly placed by a quiet mumbling that sinks into your skin.

“Tastes so good,” Jeongguk murmurs, licking between your folds. “So fucking good.”

“Jeon,” Something twists in your gut when he drops a final kiss onto you as if he was thanking you for letting him do that when you should be the one on your knees thanking him. When he softly drops your leg to the soiled sheets you decide it quickly, already shifting onto your elbows.

“Yes?” Such innocent eyes staring back at you like he didn’t just fuck you open with his tongue.

“I want you too,” you’re already shifting but Jeongguk is quick, fingertips hard on your jaw when he halts you. He knows what that means, reads it in how your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, wet just like you were. But that’s not what he wants, besides, he’d rather save that for other places.

“No.” When he says that you almost deflate, but then Jeongguk drops his hand from your jaw, swiftly dragging his shirt over his back and off his body. There’s nothing that can suffocate the desire that blooms in your chest. He’s so beautiful, hard lines and warm skin, kissed by the Sun herself. There’s an itch in your palm instantly, and you hastily register that if you don’t touch him you might die. Yet, your eager hands are pinned over your head, wrists wrapped tightly in the grip of one of his wide calloused palms. There’s a brief moment where his attention is caught by the bounce of your chest before you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve never asked Jeongguk to fuck your tits before. But as you stow that away for later concern, Jeongguk’s other hand drifts to the discarded vibrator, sinister now in his command.

“Don’t want to fuck your mouth, bunny. It’s not about me tonight, it’s about you.”

“But—” Jeongguk swallows that protest with a quick kiss, the taste of you on his tongue igniting a fire that crackles and consumes until you feel nothing but heat and want, all fuelled by your erratic lovesick heart. You kiss until the only thing filling your lungs is him, like a heavy smoke that envelopes you, travelling through your body until you pull away, warm chest flushed against his. There’s a stupid twinkle in his eyes and it makes you feel sick, swaying dangerously when he shifts away. You don’t want him to go, but you don’t move when he gives you that look. The devastating ache dissipates when his pants drop from his hips, hard cock meeting the cool air. The twitch that travels down his length echoes between your walls, eagerly clenching around nothing. Jeongguk just smiles, stripping bare leaving himself vulnerable to your eager eyes. You wait, behaving good because you want to for him and Jeongguk notes this, delivering a pleased slap to your cunt when he pulls you close, one hard enough to jolt through your spine when his palm hits your clit.

“I’m kind of sensitive,” you whisper, shy again. Which is funny because weren’t you begging for his cock down your throat a second ago?

“I know,” Jeongguk returns, uncaring. The vibrator comes to life a moment later, buzzing low through the room. He knocks it up to the second-highest level.

“Jeongguk! Start low then work it up. I can’t take it like that directly, it'll chafe me.” Which is right, your clit is already feeling dry, slick staying solely between your walls. Jeongguk notes that, pausing before sinking two of his fingers deep. You squeak, hips lifting when they brush against that spot in your walls. He works you open deftly, pleased when you grind your hips into his hands, spurred on by the feeling of something finally inside of you. But it’s fleeting, Jeongguk dragging his fingers out and over your clit before raising his fingers to his lips and licking them clean.

“Now it won’t,” he states, and before you can open your mouth and deliver a retort the vibrator is pressing against that bundle of nerves, tremors echoing in your bones as your legs squeeze shut in an attempt to get away. Jeongguk pins them open, cock leaking against your thigh and he rolls the edge of the toy over your clit, before you jolt so hard the sheets shift and he knows exactly where to place it. He works it out of you, praise naturally falling from his petal lips when you give in, eyes shut tight and your heart stuck in your throat. The vibration feeds the heat in your gut, drawing it to the surface of your skin, sweat beading along your forehead and a dampness forming down your spine. It feels both quick and slow, coaxed out of you with steadfastness. Jeongguk’s gaze never strays from your pussy, locked there as he etches this moment into his memory. You look gorgeous, whining and twisting underneath him. He can tell that this is a lot for you, judging from how you bury your face away from him. He would have forced your eyes on him, if he wasn’t already so enthralled by how perfect you look like this, moans low colouring the air bright with their sound. His own want multiples when your body freezes, strung tight, the edge beckoning you over.

He pulls the vibrator off then, depriving you of your release because his brain demands that he feels this one around his length.

“Jeongguk!” You’re on your elbows, eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. “Why-w-why would you do that?” There’s a waver in your tone, a lilt so pretty he can’t help but smile.

“When you squirt you’re doing it on my cock.” He states it like it's final. And it is from how he draws you close, vibrator momentarily lost in the sheets, the head of his length brushing against your wetness.

But what catches your attention is when. A loaded promise. A determined one.

You spread your legs open, shifting until he slips past walls stretching to accommodate his welcoming presence. “Okay then, make me.” You say it with your gaze on his, watching as his eyes glaze over hips already bucking deeper, before your words register in his brain and Jeongguk’s gaze shifts into a dangerous glint.

He tugs you hard, pulling close enough so that he sinks in deep, cunt already moulding to the curves of his cock. “With pleasure.” Those words are warning, painted right into the heat of your skin as he sheathes himself inside of you. The groans in the air belong to both of you melting into one distinctive sound. It’s cut by the lewd squelch of your wetness coating his length, one that settles in Jeongguk’s gut, release already creeping into the corner of his vision. But he holds it back by knocking your legs further apart, mouth returning to the bruise he left earlier, teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. You arch into him, shifting as pain bleeds through your nerves. The motion allows the last inch of him to slip past your walls, spearing you open, before Jeongguk draws himself out and returns with a hard slow thrust. He fucks you deep, right into the bed, the frame creaking with each loud meeting between the two of you. You can’t do anything but cling onto him, eyes fluttering as his cock drives into you, determined with every piston of his hips to see you unravel. And you do, with a sickening quickness, already weak with the remembrance of your past edge. You feel soft underneath him, pressed against his skin like you hope you find a home for yourself there. And Jeongguk provides — lips mapping your skin gently and a pride in his tone that makes you want to do anything for him.

“That’s it, good girl.” You can’t say anything but his name, whining with every drag of his length along your walls. “So good to me,” he whispers, sweet, unlike his unforgiving hips. “Pretty girl and she’s all mine.”

“Yes,” you gasp, wanting this more than ever. “All yours—a-all—hnghhhh—y-yours! Jeongguk, please! P-please, please, please.”

He slows, smiling into your neck. “What bunny? What do you want?”

“Wanna cum, Jeongguk p-please let me cum.” When he moves away you feel your gut drop. The vibrator is flicked back one, humming dangerously. “Guk—” you start; he shushes you with a purposeful thrust.

“You said you wanted to cum. Remember what you promised me, bunny?” You nod, slow, nervous but your need overriding your fear. Jeongguk just smiles, shifts himself a little deeper, and then places the vibrator where you need it most. It’s not instant, but it’s quick and violent, travelling through your bones and Jeongguk rocks himself deep, curls damp on his forehead and his shoulders tense but his body still giving. You match his movements with your own, shuddering the closer you feel it creep, ripping itself right out of your limbs, drawn to the surface with no remorse, your eyes falling shut and hips seizing. The vibration paired with the feeling of Jeongguk fucking you full is intoxicating, and unlike you he doesn’t hesitate, playing with your clit unforgivingly.

You don’t even hear yourself, mouth agape and your back high from the sheets, all you know is heat, burning from the inside out. No air in your lungs as it spills from you, right onto his length, walls drawn tight. It hits his abdomen, leaving his muscles wet and glimmering as the moonlight greets his skin. Jeongguk shuts down, hips moving automatically, the vibrator thrown aside, still buzzing forlornly. He couldn’t give a damn about it, bending your legs back and fucking into you hard as you coat his cock in your wetness. If it was loud before, it’s obscene now. The nails in his back spur him further, a need he’s never felt before consuming him whole. It’s already there, the white of his desire clouding his vision, but his brain suddenly stills.

Jeongguk’s hand on your chin draws you back to Earth, mind nothing but mush as he continues to fuck you open. They’re erratic thrusts, and with them, you slowly release that your cheeks are wet. Jeongguk realises it the same time you do, thumb gingerly brushing the tears falling from your eyes away. There’s a strange new awareness buzzing through your body, like your bones feel new, limbs reformed. But nothing could prepare you for that thumb on your cheek travelling down, grazing your lips until they fall open. He slips it past, lets you flick your tongue against it, before demanding. “Open.”

And you do, because what wouldn’t you do for him.

“Can I?” He questions, and somehow you know what he is asking. Another claim. Something else you’ve given nobody but him.

“Yes.”

There’s a fall in his shoulders as if he was afraid you would deny him. But how could you ever? His thumb leaves your lips, hand drifting until it settles on your neck, pressing firmly but not tight. And then his own lips part, hips unwavering, for what he sends down your throat. You swallow, oddly thrilled by it while Jeongguk watches silently, almost in marvel. It does something to you, the way he stares, like he cannot believe you’re his. And you feel that sentiment in how he kisses you next, desperate, pleading, thankful. You return it, tongue soft against his as you feel his back draw taut, a low groan spilling down your throat when Jeongguk finally snaps, euphoria bleeding through his brain. You feel it hit your walls, warm and wet, painting you white, a strange satisfaction settling through your body.

When he eventually rolls over, quiet like he’s still recovering, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, an attempt to keep his love locked in. His hand cups your own, guiding you back into reality with a gentle squeeze.

The still buzzing vibrator is what you hear first, followed by the joint panting of your lungs. You move to grab it, hoping to hide the revelation in your eyes by glaring at him. Jeongguk is still too lost to care, face flushed a vibrant rouge.

“Turn this stupid thing off,” you mutter, legs still stuck, fused to the bed from the shock of your orgasm. Jeongguk snatches it up, waving it through the air as he turns it off, before giving it a fond kiss.

“Gross,” you comment, smacking his hard chest.

“No,” Jeongguk returns, dropping it. He plants a ginger kiss on your forehead. “I quite like it actually, we should order another one. Do you think they do vibrating panties?”

You hit him again, rolling over until your leg swings over his. He keeps looking at you like that, and it keeps clawing right through your heart. “You’re so sick and evil,” you say instead of the annoying comments that flutter in your delirious brain. You want to call him pretty, beautiful, perfect, maybe the best thing you’ve ever had. But you can’t let Jeongguk know he has all that power over you — not when already made you squirt and spat down your throat in one sitting. “Can you clean me up? I’m getting sticky.”

Jeongguk stills like he’s suddenly remembering what he just did, where he just came. And then you feel the rise of his chest, gaze flicking up to meet his. Bright and full of something akin to adoration, before he blinks it away.

“Give me a moment, I think I just saw God.”

[songficsbyrissi]

This X-Mas (Spooky X Reader)

“'Cause this Christmas, will be the Greatest time of your life from me I ain't asking for the diamond rings I ain't really got a list of expensive things I just want you to myself while the children sleeps Santa baby, would you make a little time for me?” - Chris Brown feat. Ella Mai

A/N: hey y’all! I know I kinda abandoned you but being in College during a panoramic (Twitter joke) but I finished! I graduated undergrad so it’s lit! Even tho I don’t really care for Christmas or the holidays and I dislike Christmas music, I love this song and since it’s been a while, I might as well give y’all a Christmas gift soooo Merry Christmas! 🎄🎁❤️

************

You were not a fan of the holidays.

It’s not like you never were. You used to be but as you grew up, you grew a disdain for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years', all that.

The most wonderful time of the year, your ass.

From November 1st up until January 2nd, every year, you were annoyed and couldn’t wait for this time of the year to be over. You didn’t like it and if you had to hear “All I Want from Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey one more fucking time, someone was gonna get kicked where they’re more jolly.

You were relaxing on the couch when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You announced you were coming and opened the door to 3 boys by the names of Cesar, Jamal, and Ruby.

“Hey, boys! What brings-“

“BATHROOM!” Jamal ran past you and straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Ruby shook his head and Cesar gave a nervous laugh.

“Would you believe we were just in the neighborhood?”

You pursed your lips. “Nope.”

Ruby sighed out of frustration. “We need help getting Christmas gifts for our.....” He swallowed hard. You closed your eyes.

“You’re still struggling to call Jasmine your girlfriend?”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” You waved him off and right then, Jamal stepped out the bathroom, relieved.

“Whew, my bladder was full! Where you get that hand soap, Y/N?! Smells lovely!”

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “At Bath and Body Works where y’all should get gifts for your girlfriends.” You narrowed your eyes at Ruby, who shuddered at the G-word. “Now if you excuse me, I was enjoying my alone time.”

Cesar stopped the door from closing. “Wait. Didn’t you say you were leaving today to go spend Christmas with your family?”

Shit. “Uh yeah. Duh. I needed alone time before I left.”

“I don’t see any bags packed.” Ruby indicated, skeptical.

“Or an airline ticket on the desk. Yeah, I noticed!” Jamal added, folding his arms.

You looked at the 3 teenage boys who were waiting for you to confess. You sighed deeply, knowing the jig is up.

“Fine, 3 wise men!” You stated with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “I’m not going home. I never was going home. The reason why is because I don’t care for the holidays. I stopped a long time ago. It’s never been special to me. Also, I don’t have a close-knit family. Actually, we’re dysfunctional as hell. This isn’t the most wonderful time of the year for me. I lied so you guys wouldn’t know the truth, now are you happy?”

Jamal had a dismal expression on his face and pulled you to his chest. “Now I see what the Scrooge looks like as a black woman.”

You pushed him off and Cesar grabbed your wrist before you could hit him.

“Does Spooky know?”

You shook your head. “Nope and it’s gonna stay that way. I mean it, Cesar. Don’t say shit to your brother about this.”

Were you really depending on the little brother of your gang member friend that’s not really a friend but he’s kind of your boo to keep his mouth shut?

“Cesar told me you lied.” That was what Spooky said when you opened the door the next morning which was Christmas. You sucked your teeth loudly, disappointed that your dumbass trusted a 15-year-old who feared his brother.

“I should really kick your brother’s ass.”

He smirked at your comment. “Talk to me, Mami. Why you not fucking with Christmas?”

You left the door, letting him outside and he closed the door behind him. “Because it’s annoying as hell.”

“Nah, that ain’t it.”

You turned to Spooky with your arms folded. “Why do you even care, Oscar? It’s not like your thug ass cares for holidays and shit.”

Spooky remained unfazed by your attitude and you calling him by his government. When you first met him, he would be pissed at that. Even tried scaring you but it didn’t work. Eventually, he got used to it and only allowed you to call him Oscar.

“You’re wrong and I’ll show you. Get dressed.”

You were feeling dangerous. “And what if I don’t?” You responded with a roll of the neck.

Spooky let a dry laugh that scared you yet turned you on at the same time. Damn. You started to bite your lip then pulled it back. He got dangerously close and stared you down.

“Do you really wanna know, Princesa?”

Yes. No. Shit.

You got out of his face and got dressed as you were told. You’ll let him win this round. You got into his car and he drove back to his house where Cesar and his girlfriend Monse were making a mess in the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N!” Monse greeted you. Cesar looked at you nervously.

“Hey Y/N, how’s-“

You held your hand up. “Save it, snitch!”

“He forced it out of me!” The young boy pleaded and you rolled your eyes in response.

“Whatever. What are y’all even doing?” You asked, confused and disgusted by the sight of the kitchen and glancing at Spooky’s face, he was not too pleased either.

“Trying to do a Christmas brunch but somebody doesn’t wanna listen to the instructions.” Monse gestured towards her boyfriend with a roll of her neck, causing Cesar to groan.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the two. “Alright lemme help so I can fix this. You!” You gestured towards Spooky. “You’re helping too!”

“Nahhhh cooking ain’t my thing.”

“Well Christmas ain’t my thing but I’m here. Now throw on an apron, cholo. You’re on bacon duty!”

You couldn’t lie. Making Christmas brunch with the kids was fun as hell. You found yourself smiling and giggling during the cooking and eating. You even caught Spooky staring at you a couple of times. You pecked his lips just because he looked so adorable but if you told him that, he’ll turn into a jackass. When the boys left to get something from God knows where you were left alone with Monse. You didn’t know too much about the girl but figured you could get to know her more.

“So Monse...you’re spending Christmas with your boyfriend.”

“So are you.”

Your eyes narrowed at her response. “1. Spooky is not my boyfriend and 2. I was forced here. Christmas is bullshit.”

“I love Christmas. Even though I don’t remember the last time I actually spent it with my dad.” Monse shrugged bending over and fix her shoelaces. That caught your attention.

“Wait, you’ve had shitty Christmases and you still love Christmas?!”

She shrugged again. “Well yeah. My dad is always away for Christmas and I don’t have my mom so I’ve always dreamt of doing Christmas stuff with the people I love. When I met the boys, not to sound corny but my dreams came true. Another reason why I need to keep the group together.”

You were lost for words. “Wow, I’m sorry, Monse.”

“It’s ok. Hey, I think I hear the boys coming back.”

The boys revealed themselves and Cesar announced that you guys were being invited to have Christmas dinner with Jamal’s family which was great because you didn’t want to cook.

“I’m telling you marmalade is better than jelly. I don’t wanna hear it!” Jamal declared during dinner. A debate broke out between marmalade and jelly which really entertained you. Jamal’s family was funny and so welcoming to you, a stranger. It felt weird to you that they were showing so much love to you, a stranger. Oscar held your hand throughout the whole dinner which did something to your stomach. You don’t wanna say butterflies. Maybe it’s gas.

When the group stopped by Ruby’s house to pick him up for “friendsmas”, his grandma pulled you aside with a serious look on her face.

“Open your heart, mama.”

You gave her a confused look. “What?”

“You closed your heart. Open it. Even if it’s to Papi Chulo over there. “ she gestured towards Oscar who was lighting up a cigarette and looked back at you. “Open it to Christmas. To any holiday. Just....open it.”

You kept that in mind as you went with the others back to the house for the kids to engage in their “friendsmas”.

“I’ve never heard “Friendsmas.” You muttered as Spooky handed you a glass of wine and you watched the kids from the doorway.

Oscar shrugged taking a swig of his Corona. “Well you hate Christmas so I’m not surprised.”

You elbowed him in his side and he began to laugh in response. “I don’t hate Christmas. I just never found joy in the holidays but now I do.” You looked at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you. Thank you for making this Christmas special for me.”

Oscar began to grin and pulled something from behind his back. “It’s not over yet, hyna.”

You gazed at the blue velvet rectangular box and opened it slowly to reveal a silver chain that said “Oscar” You looked up at him, speechless.

“Spooky, I....I.....”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just put on my necklace and be mine.” The gangsta in front of you took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your eyes were as big as saucers. “You....you do?”

“Yes, girl he do! It was so obvious!” Jasmine’s voice broke through the moment and everyone glared at her. Her mouth formed an O. “Oooh sorry! I forgot we were supposed to be acting like we weren’t paying attention. My bad!”

You shook your head and felt a surge of love and confidence. You loved this man. You have for a long time but never admitted it because...your heart was closed. Damn. Ruby’s crazy grandma ain’t so crazy after all.

“I love you too, Oscar.” You pulled him in for a long passionate kiss and the crew clapped in excitement.

“Girl put your back in it! You’re under the mistletoe!” Jasmine yelled again.

Ruby started. “Jasmine-“

“Shut up and kiss me!” She grabbed him by his collar, planting a kiss on his lips.

When you finally pulled away from your kiss with Spooky, you smiled up at him and his expression was matching yours. You spoke up through your grin:

“I’ll be damned. It is the most wonderful time of the year.”

A/N: Cheesy as fuckkkkk I know but Christmas is all about the cheese if we’re gonna be honest. I hope you enjoyed it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y’all! ❤️🎄🎁

Tags: @karmawaelualani @chaneajoyyy @ctrlszn @witchything @sabrinafey @penguinpower17889 @robingreysantos @namjoonwatcheshentai @pananegra @bloatedandlonly @blackmissfrizzle @chonisberonica @flamingweasley @cynthetic @momobaby227 @this-glitter-pussay​ @beyondprincess​ @joyrivh​

[witlessficcer]

Movie Night

Summary: Natasha invites Peggy to the in house movie theater at the Avengers compound for a special date. 

This fic is for @blazestarninja13. She requested a movie night for Peggy and Nat. Though I didn’t get to Kate Hepburn’s striving against sexism, I think this still fits into the fun of 

When Nat asked for a third time to have movie night, just the two of them, Peggy finally relented. She certainly didn't have anything against watching movies, but had a hard time with how people acted in movies in the present. She had been assured by Nat that the movie they watched would not be violent; she agreed that the two of them had had enough of that for a lifetime. However, there was something to be said for a good crime movie. She had really enjoyed Laura, with Dana Andrews and Gene Tierney. Twisted stuff. She had no idea what movie Nat had in mind, but ultimately, sitting in a dark and empty, Stark engineered home theater, with her best girl at her side or in her lap, sounded pretty good.

Leaving her quarters, wearing a  v-neck, feathered, dark grey t-shirt and jeans, she wondered if she would be too cold. She never had been before. The Avengers compound was always just the right temperature. Even if she did get cold, Nat wouldn't have it. Goosebumps were a God given invitation for Natasha Romanoff to heat things up. Not that Nat needed a reason, God given or otherwise. She wondered what Nat was wearing.

Peggy had to admit, it never felt right walking into a genuine, if small, movie theater like she used to walk into her living room to listen to the radio. She had to admit that the sound and the picture and the ambiance were nice, but walking down the hall from her room into a movie house felt dodgy. No, not dodgy, but self serving. Did she really need or want all the opulence Stark provided? Shaking her head to cast off that strange tangent, she entered the low lit theater and was immediately drawn to the blonde bob sitting in the center seat of row 8. It was Nat's seat. Everyone knew. In fact, last she heard, Tony was supposed to have added a plaque.

Walking down the aisle, she was gratified to see Natasha put an arm over the seat back next her and look back expectantly. The woman had a beautiful smile. Shared it so rarely with the world. Peggy was also thankful that such a dangerously talented and gorgeous woman had chosen her.

“I saved you a seat,” Nat called back. “It was getting crowded.”

“It was the least you could do given you asked me on this date,” Peggy shot back, turning into the aisle. Nat rose from her seat at Peggy approached. She was wearing black jeans, big surprise, and a fitted, low cut, field green t-shirt that showed more cleavage than Peggy was comfortable with others seeing. “Aren't you worried, all the boys will be watching those bazooka's instead of the movie?”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat retorted. “Those torpedoes would would feed any kids dream for weeks.

The Black Widow patted the seat next to her and waited for Peggy to sit. As soon as she did, the blonde woman pulled her close and brushed her lips against her lover's as sheb moved off to the right and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “You look fantastic. I love the ponytail.”

“I know you do,” Peggy added, with a playful scowl. “That's why I wore it. And, by the way is that dinky kiss all I get? Definite weak sauce from the Widow.”

Nat looked at her as if she would look at a child left alone for five minute, now slathered head to toe in peanut butter. She tilted her head for effect. “It's about the speed of the movie we're going to watch.”

“You may not like it as much, but I'm just fine with family movies. They make me feel good. Or are they called feel good movies these days?”

“Don't hurt yourself, Cap,” the shorter woman said. “The movie we're going to see is more of a classic.”

“I love classics!” Peggy said, excitedly, a grin growing ever larger across her lips. “Star Wars, The Goonies, Toy Story.”

There was a sudden pain in her sizable shoulder. “Shite! What was that for?”

Natasha retracted her fist and pinned Peggy with a powerful side eye. “No pain. No Gain.”

“You didn't just say that,” Peggy said in mock horror. “You didn't.”

Nat took a deep breath. “No. You heard nothing. That was awful.”

“Whew!” Peggy said, checking her Apple watch. “I was afraid I would have another commitment if you let that one stay out there.”

“Just shut up for a minute, you Big Oaf,” Nat said, playfully placing her hand high on Peggy's left thigh. “The movie is about to start.”

“But we don't have any snacks?” Peggy said, anxiously. “I have to have a Coca-Cola.”

Natasha laughed at her girlfriend's frenzied state. Nat reached to her left and produced a silver champagne bucket filled with ice and four bottles of Coke. From Mexico. With real cane sugar.

Peggy gasped at the simple gesture of love. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes glistened. There was enough wetness that she removed her pale blue glasses and wiped the tears away. “This is amazing, Nat.”

“But wait,” Nat said, drawing out the mystery. “There's more.”

Nat also produced another large bucket, this one paper, and filled with popcorn and real movie theater style butter. Peggy took it gladly She set it in the seat next to her as she allowed the ice cold silver to burn her inner thighs. Reaching over, she place a hand on Nat's neck and pulled her strongly into a kiss. The Widow's lightning fast reflexes shot an index finger between their lips before they could meet. “Not done yet. Reaching to her left one final time, she brought forth two large movie size candy boxes. She handed Peggy a box of Junior Mints while she kept a box of Dots for herself.

“You really thought of everything,” Peggy said, staring happily into her lover's eyes.

“I did,” she said, leaning forward and pulling a large soft baby blue blanket from the chair in front of her. “I'm sorry we can't snuggle while we watch, but we can be warm and we can hold hands. We cant touch shoulders and tilt our heads together like an old Norman Rockwell painting.”

“I love Norman Rockwell,” Peggy said.

“I know you do,” Natasha replied. “I love it when you hold my hand.”

“I know you do,” Peggy said, reaching over and taking the hand of the former assassin.

“Jarvis, start the movie,” Nat called to the empty room. The lights lowered and the red velvet curtains drew away. When the silver screen flickered to life, it was in black and white. The Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer logo appeared on screen. The Lion Roared. As the music rose, Natasha watched Peggy closely. Her chest was rising and falling more quickly and her grip on Nat's hand had tightened. Her eyes were wide and glued to the screen. When the title “The Philadelphia Story” lit up the screen Peggy let out an an excited scream and jumped from her seat, pulling Nat up with her. She pulled night into the tightest hug. Really tight, lifting her her off the ground. Setting her back down, she cupped her lover's face in her hand and made to mash her lips with abandon. Instead, she brushed her lips against the other and moved off to left to right and planted a firm kiss on Natasha's flush cheek. She continued to the other woman's ear and whispered passionately: “This is amazing. I love it. I love you. I want you.”

“I guess it's my turn to make you wait,” Nat replied, breathlessly. “But I don't think the movie is that long.”

[sylvie-writes]

Getting Ready

I’m sorry for my train of Sarah posts. 

Summary: Tony invites (y/n), Steve, and Sarah to the party that takes place during Age of Ultron. 

Warnings: none. author’s misconception of a shirt. grammar mistakes.

Um so I’m gonna make this two parts because I can’t finish the whole story today but i’d still like to get it out today. *whew*

Part Two: Are You Worthy? 

A/n: the real question... is it a button up or button down...

Steve leaned against the bedroom door frame, caching the sweet moment unfolding in front of him. His two favorite girls in the world were involved in the most adorable conversation he had ever seen.  

“I’ll be right back, pumpkin!” Sarah was sitting on your side of the bed, as you bopped her nose before venturing off to the walk in closet. All the clothes were orderly and tidy on both sides. Your work uniforms and resplendent dresses were neatly hanged on black velvet hangers while your casual clothes were adroitly folded and stored on the small, overhead wire shelf. Steve’s side of the closet was organized just as well. The suit was folded in a garment bag, resting on his shelf while rows of button ups and slacks also hung on black velvet hangers, a gift courtesy of Pepper when you both got married years ago. 

There was no need to rummage through your closet, for your options were all pleasantly presented before you. Tonight, Tony was hosting an extravagant party, inviting hundreds of people to the compound, shield agents mostly. Normally, you and Steve wouldn’t take Sarah to the parties, but Tony insisted that this one time she should come, claiming that he ordered chocolate covered strawberries just for her. Your daughter absolutely loved strawberries, ever since she was a baby, they were her go-to snack. Now, throw in chocolate into the mix, she was gonna be ecstatic.  

This morning, Nat had texted you a picture of her outfit. She was gonna wear a simple, yet elegant black dress that really complimented her striking red hair. That woman could pull off anything, she could make a potato sack look good. Not wanting to duplicate the look, you opted for two other dresses. 

The first dress you had in hand was a white lace sheath dress you had worn to a lavish dinner date with Steve last year. Your other choice was a blush midi dress with a v-back foldover collar, one you wore a few years back at a friend’s baby shower. The two options had yet to be seen by any of the other team members, saving you money and time. After all, they both were practically new, no wear and tear or worn out seams.

You walked out of the closet after a good ten minutes of handpicking different choices till settling on the dresses in hand. Sarah was now cuddling with the knot blanket, leaning up against the headboard playing a game on Steve’s phone. The said man was sitting beside Sarah apparently coaching her through the game

“Hi babes, I need both of your opinions.” 

Sarah shot a bright grin at you, enthusiastically gesticulating her willingness to help. Steve winked at you with his enchanting blue eyes. Ever the gentleman, he got up from the bed, walking towards you to hold the dresses. 

“What are you wearing, honey?” Steve pointed to the dresser, a dark prussian blue button down and black slacks, tidily folded and resting on the wood top. Your pupils virtually grew into dilated hearts, picturing Steve in the lovely attire. The visionary must’ve been obvious as the man you were dreaming about, casually smirked at you, the heat instantly flooding your face. You swallowed harshly, trying to get your scattered brain back in order. How he still managed to get that effect from you was beyond your understanding. While Sarah looked out the window, bored, you cut your eyes at Steve, standing beside you with your dresses laying over his arm. 

“Anyway, Sarah what do you think I should wear?” Her head whipped from the window, her disinterest now replaced with attentiveness. Steve held up the dress, allowing Sarah to see them fully. She scooted to the edge of the bed, laying on her stomach and holding her delightful little face with her hands. 

“You always look pretty, Mommy! But I really like the pink one!”  With her left hand, she excitedly shot out her finger in the direction of the dress. You took the dress from Steve and walked towards the closet that had a floor length mirror hanging on the wall between yours and Steve’s sides. The dress that Sarah had picked was actually the one you secretly hoped she would choose. Great sense of style, just like her mother.

Once in the closet, you slipped off your loungewear and into the dress, unable to reach the zipper when Steve walked in. Your husband was always there when you needed him, literally. He’d show up coincidentally at the times you need his assistance, now being one of those times. 

“Need some help?” Looking in the mirror, your eyes met with Steve’s playful ones and you smiled at his offer of help. He most definitely must've seen you struggling seconds ago. One of Steve’s large hands held at your waist where the zipper started, and the other hand on the actual zipper, slowly sliding it up your back. You looked in the mirror to see Steve smiling at you adoringly. He wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek. 

“You look beautiful as always, doll.” As Steve’s arms were still around your waist, so you brought your hands to rest them on his forearms, leaning back in his embrace. 

A minute passed and suddenly you felt something tap your leg. You and Steve both opened your eyes and looked down to see Sarah, sweetly and patiently waiting for her parents.

“Mommy! You look so butifil! Getting down on your knees, you picked up Sarah, then turning to face Steve.

“Don’t you think little Miss Sarah should pick out my shoes too?”

Sarah’s face visibly lit up and she clapped her hands happily. 

“I think so, mama!” The little girl let out a squeal and you let Sarah down from your hold, turning her to your shoe rack. Heels, flats, sneakers, boots, and summer shoes all separated in uniform order. 

Sarah scanned over the many overwhelming options until she reached for a pair of grey, strappy, closed-toe stilettos. 

“These look amazing, baby! Thanks!” You took the heels from Sarah’s hands and quickly brought them to the drop zone by the door, and changed back while Steve got Sarah’s outfit picked out. By time you came to her room, Sarah apparently already had a dress in mind. Steve held up a ginger dress, frilled at the neck and sleeves. A small bow accenting the waist with three wooden buttons above. You came to take the dress from him with Sarah popping her head out from the bin of shoes, mini rose gold flats in her hand. 

“Mommy, Daddy, does this look pretty?” You truthfully answered her question, a proud smile growing on her face at her parent’s approval. Steve left to get showered first while you bathed Sarah. The Rogers household always had a routine for events like these. Steve would shower first while you bathed Sarah. Once he was finished getting ready, which was normally pretty quick, you’d trade places. Steve would dry Sarah’s hair while you showered and did your own hair and makeup, not really going all out and extreme for the makeup look. 

Steve and Sarah came into the bedroom to check on you. When they walked in, you were already dressed and ready to go, just like them. Standing in front of the dresser, you put on your wedding ring and some earrings. 

“Mommy?” You looked to your right to find Sarah now at your side. 

“Yes, babe?”

“Can I wear a necklace?” Sarah didn’t have her ears pierced, that was something you and Steve decided she could choose when she gets older. You smiled at your daughters eagerness to dress like her mother. It was adorable. 

Opening up the small wooden jewelry box, you sifted through it and to the bottom, finding a small velvet box. You took the box, unlatching the lid, a mini pear shaped opal kindly twinkled at you. Steve had come up behind your back, hands on your waist once again, as he looked over your shoulder at the box he knew very well. 

“Sarah, Daddy gave me this necklace ten years ago, please be careful with it, honey.” You slipped the necklace on her, securing the clasp tightly and turning her back to face you and Steve. Her face was showered in a serious look. Using her big girl voice, she made a promise to you and Steve, gazing into your eyes.

“I promise, I will take care of this.” It was hard to not giggle at her seriousness, a cute sight to say the least.

Her usual smile returned and all goofiness with it. You had left them, for they headed to the front door while you went to grab your phone from the bathroom, returning just in time for the cuteness that would ensue. Sarah quizzically stared at Steve, who was a little confused but then reassured when the girl started smiling again.

“Daddy looks like Prince Charming!” Her statement, adorable, but very true. 

Steve squatted down to Sarah’s level, looking up at you.

“And Mommy’s as pretty as Cinderella then?”

The girl swiftly bobbed her head, blonde hair flying around, and then watching as her father got up to get the heels from your hands. A way he’d show his precious and darling wife his affection, using your daughter’s sweet notion as his excuse. 

“May I?” Your husband’s hand rested on the heels, asking for permission to which you sheepishly smiled. Smoothing out your dress, you sat on the mudroom bench, Steve taking your left leg in hand. Sarah stood behind him, a large cheesy grin on her face, as she daydreamed of the princess’s glass slipper. Too caught up in her own world, Steve gently picked up your foot, pressing a kiss to the top before slipping it in the shoe. A small giggle left your mouth from the kiss you had just received. Your right foot also obtaining the same luxury as the left. When your heels were slipped on, Steve helped you up from the bench, knocking Sarah from her day dream. She looked down to see your shoes on and gleefully announced her observance. 

“Just like Cinderella and the Prince, Mommy!”

Sarah was absolutely beside herself, clearly pleased that her parents just reenacted a scene from her favorite movie.

“Just like Cinderella and the Prince.” Steve picked up Sarah, holding her in one arm and reaching for your hand with his other one, leading you all out of the apartment and to the car. 

 To be continued… 

Till then, if you love seeing Sarah, check out Days of the Week, Mon Cheri, and Gone. All of which are on my masterlist! 

[sleephyjhs]

Proposing to Them (REACTION)

all members are included under the ‘keep reading’ link

notes: jimin’s gif whEW-

rules | m.list | requested by @winterbearrs

KSJ

Unknown to Seokjin, there was more purpose to your Hawaii vacation than just to get away. You’d followed moon charts for weeks to get the perfect crescent under which to propose to him.

After 3 years of being utterly in love with Seokjin, you knew that you were more than ready to move to the next level with him. Many times, it had been made apparent to you that he was also ready; Seokjin’s sudden interest in imagining your children, not to mention the return of his romantic passion into every moment you spent together.

Hand in hand, the pair of you paced slowly through lapping waves barefoot. The summer moonlight drew crisp, lilac shadows across the most prominent of his facial features and illuminated glowing orbs in his deep brown eyes. It was perfect. He was perfect.

Everything was planned; less than a minute’s walk away was a cluster of peculiarly tilted palm trees. That was where you would ask him to be your husband. You allowed the ambient slurring of the ocean to set the scene for you. Too many words would surely overpower the climax of your question.

“Hey, just stop for a second.” Jin turned, still lightly grasping your hand to face you. The violet tinted moonlight filtered through jet black strands of his hair and projected onto your face. His eyes widened at seeing you in such a dainty, fragile light. His smile was uncontrollable by such point, “I have something to say.”

Seokjin tilted his head slightly, squinting in curiosity. You exhaled all of your anxiety and reached back into your shorts’ pocket for the box, “I’ve known for a while now that I’ve found my soulmate in you, Jin. Everything I’m not, you are. You watch over me and protect me when I’m too oblivious myself. I can honestly say I wouldn’t know where I’d be without you. And so I wanted to ask,” you pulled the blue, velvet wrapped box from behind your back and opened it slowly to reveal a silver banded, encrusted delicately with opal chips, “will you be my husband?”

Seokjin reaches out to tuck a fallen piece of hair behind your ear and allowed his thumb to brush your soft, burning cheek, “Of course I will.” The beaming smile that spawned from his answer continued to grow as you plucked the ring from its snug shelter and slid it over his knuckles. Once tight on his finger, Seokjin raised you from the sand and supported you to hover just centimetres from his lips, “I love you. Endlessly. I hope you know that, my angel.”

MYG

Extravagance wasn’t your thing, nor was it Yoongi’s. Both of you were easily overwhelmed in such situations, and so to plan your surprise, you found it best that you didn’t leave the bedroom. From first hand experience, the bedroom you shared could easily have been a romantic place to ask such a thing, you just had to play it right.

A lazy sunday meant you’d spent most of the morning cuddling against Yoongi watching all of your favourite movies. His tousled curly hair and loose fitting t-shirt blended him into the mountains of scrunched duvet ranging across the mattress. The third movie of the day came to an end, and to stop Yoongi from getting up to reach the remote, you straddled over his lap.

He raised himself to face you, and sneakily planted a kiss against your lips, “Let me get the remote.” He chuckled, thinking you were only teasing him.

“Chill out a second, I wanna do something.” Yoongi wrapped his arms around your hips and watched you attentively as you found your words, “I love you. A lot. This is really unexpected I know but I felt like it was the right time to do it.”

“Do what..?” He trailed as you reached into the pocket of your pyjama bottoms. Yoongi followed your hands with his own eyes, and beamed a toothy grin as he realised what you were doing.

Your forehead met his as you twirled the ring between your thumb and finger, “We already act like a married couple, and argue like one. So what do you say we make it official?”

In moments of your shy proposal, another kiss was planted across your lips, only this one much more passionate than the last, “I say let’s.”

JHS

On her first day of preschool, you and your long term partner, Hoseok, stood at the open doors waving your daughter inside. Contrary to your expectations, there’d been less tears than you had anticipated; actually, she seemed rather excited to walk into the colourful classroom.

As you walked back to his car, you took silent note of the couples marching their small children through the building gates. More specifically, you paired their matching wedding bands together. Sharing a child with Hobi was even better than you could have imagined, but a small piece of guilt had always resided in your heart for ignoring tradition.

“You don’t have to think about it.” Hobi interrupted your short thought process, looking down to your observing eyes. You’d confided your guilt to him some times before, and everyday he improved at noticing when it got the best of you, “Our time will come, I promise you.”

You resumed your seat in the passenger side, silent in contemplation, “What’s stopping us?” Hoseok hovered the key above the ignition, taken aback by your question. You slid the plain gold band from your middle finger and twiddled it in your palm, “Let’s get married. You said you’re waiting for me, well I’m here.”

Smirking at your sudden initiative, Hobi held out his hand to your offering palm, “I should really be the one doing this,” He chuckled as you slid the reused band down his finger, “I didn’t manage to get your parent’s blessing either.”

You kissed him slowly, admiring his innocent commentation, “There’s a few more traditions we’ve ignored then.”

KNJ

The snowy alpine respite you had organised for your boyfriend Namjoon couldn’t have worked better in your favour. Not only could you engage in winter activities together, but the subzero temperatures only pulled you closer to share the bodily warmth you possessed.

Mountainous terrains were favoured by Namjoon. Some of your best memories as a couple belonged in the climbing ranges surrounding Seoul. Hence, the traditional cabin tucked away into a reinforced canyon was nothing short of the perfect scenario for your proposal.

The amber fire flickered and crackled in the carmine brick fireplace, exhaling warm flourishes onto your cold skin. When you’d sat down, Namjoon lifted your legs over his crossed lap to connect and share heat. A corded blanket laid sluggishly across the pair of you, making for a great hiding place for the box.

“Baby? Let me say something real quick,” you paused his manoevering eyes half way down his book page and followed them up to his rosy cheeks, “there’s actually a reason I wanted to bring you here. We have so reasons to remember Seoul that I wanted a different place to remember this moment. I want to know if you’d do me the honour of being my husband.”

Reaching over your creased torso, you pulled out a small wooden ring box you’d hidden earlier behind a pillow. Namjoon’s dimples inverted as he watched you reveal the ring. He covered his glowing smile and looked down to the floor, seemingly overwhelmed by such an unexpected gesture, “You’re crafty, real crafty, honey. Of course I will!”

His large hand fell gently in yours as you marked him with your offer. A slow kiss welcomed you into your first moments as an engaged couple, and it couldn’t have lasted long enough to overcome the intense contentment you honed.

PJM

“Baby, come quick! They’re on!” Jimin called through your rented Paris penthouse. In the darkness of the ongoing Parisian summer, thousands of golden bulbs outlined the monumental Eiffel Tower, beaming the romantic aura onto all those who witnessed.

Fixing your eyelash before you did, you sprinted through the dimly lit rooms through to the terraced balcony. Jimin opened his arms wide for you to swing into; his company only made the scenario before you. From the heights you swayed together in, millions of lights from over the centre of the city gleamed in the purple night. Nothing could have been more magical than the golden mist that covered the capital.

“It’s so beautiful, Jiminie. Hey, listen for a second,” you began, pressing the back of your head into his chest. Looking into eyes only would have pulled you into his gaze; his chin balancing softly on your styled hair told you he was all-ears, “I love you. So much. I didn’t believe soulmates could be a thing until I met you, and I’m so thankful I did.”

“I love you too, my angel.” Jimin soon replied, pressing a firm kiss into your scalp. His urge to return your love as soon as he received it was beyond endearing. Nobody could have made you feel as loved as he could.

Engulfing crisp, summer air in a large inhale, you reached into your dress pocket for the ring you’d bought in secret earlier that week. You held it just above your eyeline to align it parallel to his, “Forever is one hell of a long time, but it would all be worth it if I could spend it with you.”

His arm outstretched before you to present his spread hand. Chuckling at his tiny acceptance, you rolled the ring down to his bottom knuckle and turned in his embrace. Holding Jimin in the city of love was euphoric at least. Levelling up in your relationship only made the city around you more photogenic.

KTH

To celebrate his birthday, you’d organised a small treat upon returning from a grand meal. Taehyung waited on the garden patio as you ran a steaming bubble bath to share. The buds of crimson roses shrunk as you plucked their petals to scatter across the bubbles and tiled flooring.

Your planned proposal rested on providing a romantic scene, and the floral candles along the sides of the bathtub secured it. Behind the largest, you sheltered the white ring box for a later moment. Retrieving Taehyung in a sheer, open dress shirt would surely regain his devoted attention.

In the bathroom, he gawked at your surprised as you undressed together, and slotted together in the water. The finest french champagne fizzed away beside the candles; everything was just as you wanted it to be.

“Tae, can I just do something real quick?” He nodded slowly, his head tiled along the edge of the tub. You giggled quietly and reached behind for the box, lavender bubbles perching on your skin as you raised yourself from a recline, “I know this has been maybe a mediocre birthday, but perhaps this might change things?”

“It really hasn’t-“ Taehyung began, sitting up and carrying frothing bubbles on his glossy skin. His eyes widened at the sight of the ring you’d chosen for him. For a man as fond of rings as Taehyung, choosing the most impressionable was a task you didn’t know could be so difficult.

“I’d hope you agree when I say that you’re the other half I didn’t know I needed. Taehyung, you’re all I could ever need, and so I’d like to ask for you to be my husband.” You bit your lip, almost seductively, as you awaited his response. His bready cheeks puffed out, which meant he was happy. You knew that much.

“Of course I will. A million times, yes! You really know how to complete a birthday, huh?”

JJK

After a long day at the amusement park, you finally felt as though the time was right to do what you really came to do. Your partner, Jungkook, was just as energetic as when you arrived. Sometimes, his adrenaline and stamina amazed you even more so than normal.

You pulled Jungkook to a small, white pavilion in the centre of a mid-century plaza. There were eyes everywhere, but they became invisible with every passing second. It was only you and Jungkook left in the world, “This is really unexpected I know, but I know that this feels right and I hope you do too. Jeon Jungkook, you are my universe. My rock in this wide world. And so I need to ask...”

You pulled the ring from your coat pocket and presented it before him. Much to your surprise, he scoffed and rammed his hands deep into his pockets. You struggled to find what was so funny, until realising the coincidence you had run into, “I can’t believe this!” He exclaimed, pulling out an almost identical ring box and revealing a delicately crafted engagement ring just right fit you.

The bright laughter that erupted from your coincidence earned you a few stares, in addition to passers-by who were already invested in your romantic gesture, “I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.” You offered, smiling with the corners of your eyes.

“I’m all yours, honey.” Jungkook confirmed, slipping the ring onto your finger after you’d placed his. Not many couples could say they had matching engagement rings, but then it was just another quirky detail about your relationship. Just another anecdote for the wedding speeches.

^ hey! i’m doing great, quarantine is soo fun :/ i hope you’re staying safe too <33 we love reversing a few gender roles every here and there so thank you for this request!

[mcybebailey]

ʻ   / wow ,   i am so excited  to introduce bailey pyo   to  our current  students at cape  coral . she is  extremely  excited to  join the film club .   coming  in as an  21  year  old freshmen ,  they  shouldn't  worry about  fitting in .   the cis female  taurus   has  always  reminded  me of park sooyoung  , but  some people  don't see it .   trying to keep the  fact that she has dropped out of three different colleges in the past few years and her parents used their connections to obtain the scholarship   from  getting  around this  school is going  to be tough . no  worries , though ,   cape coral will create  a new life for them , i  assure you . ʼ 

hi!! omg hi everyone i’m jala (gmt +8) wow i’m so excited to be here wow i’ve been lurking on this group for so long and i took the chance to apply once i saw it. this is my quiet bub who’s Trying(TM) and i have her somewhat complete bio HERE but under the cut is a bit of a sparknotes version and some connection ideas to help with plotting hopefully (and i’ll have a proper wanted connections page up soon) - but really i’m up for all the plots!

STATS

full name: bailey yerin pyo

nickname(s): bay, bays, pyo

birthdate: 20th april 1999 (taurus)

hometown: san francisco, california / moved to portland when she was 10

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

languages: english, korean

orientation: graysexual biromantic

major: (eventually) media studies, with a literature minor

faceclaim: park sooyoung (joy)

distinguishable features: soft & sleepy like eyes, a beauty mark on her nose, a nick on the left side of her jaw

aesthetic: worn out sneakers, naps under the warm sun, surprising tenacity, oversized flannels, band-aids plastered on the skin, postcards meticulously stuck on walls, blending into the background, weathered copies of books, quiet but not blind, soaking in the bathtub until the water goes cold, long raven-coloured hair, smelling faintly of lavender.

( - ) blunt, anxious, lazy, stubborn, cynical, cannot handle pressure, selfish, quiet, insecure, overthinker 

( + ) tough, observant, warm, perceptive, poised, mature, headstrong, creative, quirky

THINGS TO KNOW

[ tw for mentions of anxiety disorders ]

bailey’s a scholarship student! by not so honest means but she’s genuinely doing pretty good since she’s actually putting in effort into making sure her life is in Check. she’s by no means a teachers pet, and just in general doesn’t... bring much attention to herself.

genuinely kind of has a talent for blending into the background and disappearing from situations she doesn’t want to be in - which really has helped as much as it’s damaged her young life. she’s mousy and quiet by default, usually reading or writing a whole bunch.

likes to nap in between classes in quiet and/or strange corners on campus as she progressively finds them. she likes to say she has a talent for sleep, which really it’s impressive how quickly she can sleep and how she can w wake up from naps at the right times

really, she’s trying this time to be more social and make friends. she’s put herself off from it for so long that she figures it’s time you know? it’s not like she has any particular difficulty with it (unless it’s in a large group setting ie: in front of classrooms then... whew) - bailey is genuinely a warm person when talked to albeit maybe a tiny bit blunt. she just happens to be in her own head a lot.

that being said she’s extremely calm - almost too calm that’s it’s really a way she copes to try and not be anxious constantly. it works, for the most part, thankfully and it’s been keeping her stable enough mental health wise. keeps her from any more college-dropping-out-inducing incidents with her anxiety. (that being said she’s Big Anxiety internally)

kind Notices things very easily. she’s an observer and have been since she was younger but since becoming quieter as she’s grown, it’s just become more heightened. it’s not like she voices out these things willynilly, but she likes to keep these things in mind. makes for good inspo when she’s writing tbh. 

her family fits snugly into the upper middle class tbh!  she has two younger sister, one who’s doing pre-medicine in an ivy league school, so a lot of the family funds are going into paying for that sister’s college. also her past of dropping out really has her parents not trusting her anymore - which was why she ended up in parker community college in the first place.

she’s really... like straight edge, completely by choice! she’s genuinely not interested in drinking or drugs it’s just not her thing? (she’s got enough on her plate tbh) she is trying to be more social and is trying to go to parties but she’s just been Struggling tbh it’s not really her scene? also partly why she is not that Experienced compared to her peers in intimate matters? the closest she’s had is a couple of “almosts” from high school that ended up going nowhere

a ho for all kinds of media - she’ll talk your head off about the things she’s watching/reading if ever explicitly given the chance. 

SONGS

i just by red velvet - that smidgen of hope, of (trying to) leave all past troubles and actually try now. the mindset bailey is trying to get into now that she’s in cape coral and moving on with her life! her attempt at being a proper adult now and for her to just leave the past behind. the contrast of the driving edm with the heavy-ish lyrics also feels like it’s very bailey in terms of her mind and thoughts.

busted & blue by gorillaz - the song's feel captures bailey’s vibe overall, it’s chill, slightly downer in tone, but has a hint of hope as well within the words. the lyrics, too, feel like they were written in her voice. kind of similar to how she’d write a poem, for example, especially during her very tumultuous period of life when she was in and out of school and truly starting to understand herself. It’s less a song that relates to her and more a song that emulates her in some ways.

class of 2013 by mitski - really explains her confusion and hesitance to grow into adulthood. it’s something she’s felt that she’s not suited for but life really doesn’t care about how she feels so she’s going to keep growing. so she ends up trying to cling on to years past even if there’s really nothing there for her anymore.  It’s really not helped by her rather poor mental health and the song doubles down on that feeling of progressively feeling more and more inadequate.

SOME LIGHT INSPIRATIONS: azusa nakano (k-on!), michelle (mcu spiderman), kat stratford (10 things i hate about you), eva kviig mohn (very early skam season 1), haruhi fujioka (ouran)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone who just kinda sees her y’know? probably a person who’s found her weird spots and they’re slowly like beginning to share these spaces and such. which would partly weird her out because she’s been so used to just making herself not be seen and has been very successful doing it for so long. but it’s obvious she likes it and wants this person around more.

pre-scholarship parker community college friend(s)! bailey would’ve definitely started Trying when she got to parker so possibly someone she grew close with then and them getting the scholarships together would’ve been great for bay because she’s not alone again lmao

old friends from when they were younger? maybe family friends? her dad has a pretty large reach tbh so it’s possible she would’ve accidentally known some people from even before this. 

someone to try and get her out more and Live A Little. can be ~corrupting~ her or a bad influence, but mostly just someone to drag her out of her room and be daring and bold! she can at the same time, be a calming presence for them to just chill out with her 

a crush! a few crushes! a flirtation! bailey crushes really easily tbh but she also gets over them just as quick so however you’d want to play it out i’m up for that!

ooOOH someone who’s very forward in flirting with her and bailey actually gets super flustered? like she just wouldn’t know how to deal with it and she’s not sure if she likes it or not (probably likes it a lot). but she’s just not used to this kind of attention that it throws her off big time.

a work out buddy lol she’s been pretty successful with consistently doing weekend jogging/walking so something could be built from there?

honestly any of the above can be combined with each other but either way: all the plots! gimme i would love theeemmmmmmm allll - frienships, romantic ships, antagonistic stuff, ALL OF IT.

[littlejeanniebean]

Ep. 2 | The Marauders: Moonlighter Sessions

A/N: Wolfstar in the recording studio! I repeat, Wolfstar in the recording studio! Art by the lovely @arthurstrangerguy​ <3 

More Marauders in my masterlist! 

Ep. 1: Chase Her 

Read on AO3! 

- J xx

The studio they’d been practically living in for the past eight months had red velvet walls and a leather couch to match. It was dimly lit despite the mid-morning hour. 

James moved some pieces of paper with their song titles scribbled on them around their magnetic white board, “Right, so we have Chase Her, Seek You Out -”

“You can’t have those two next to each other,” Sirius and Remus, who were doing each other’s nails, said simultaneously.

“Desire’s Looking Glass is a good second track, I think,” said Peter, his fingers lightly skimming over the keys, “Shows we’ve got range.”

“Good, good,” James nodded, “I like Ordinary No. 4 but it doesn’t really fit anywhere…”

“Put Tapestry before it, after Seek You, but have Dragon Slayer between Desire and Seek You,” Remus tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“I like that,” Sirius seconded.

“Sticks and Swords before Dragon?” James proposed.

“Too much of a mood shift,” Sirius and Remus said. The latter added, “Put it after No. 4.”

“That leaves Frequent Flier, then Lucky Number 7 as the closer, which I like the sound of… I just feel like something’s missing between Desire and Dragon…” 

“I agree, ten would be nice, as nice could be, nicer than nine,” Peter crooned with his piano.

“Hey, Pete, could you play that again?” Remus closed his eyes and placed his hands on his knees. For a while, the room was filled only with the calming tinkle of keys. Finally, he said, “We need strings. Not too many. Just a cello.” 

“I’ll make a call,” Sirius went out into the hall.

“Tonks!” James cheered from behind the drum kit when he saw the pink-haired girl fifteen minutes later, lugging her cello case behind her with ease.

“Wotcher, lads!” the musician set down her instrument and tousled her page-boy cut so she actually cut a figure that mirrored the drummer. 

“How’s Andrea?” Peter set up the sheet music he had jotted down so far for her, “I saw the latest Bake-Off episode last night - that was brutal.”

“Oh, she’s got a comeback all planned,” Tonks grinned, setting her bow to the strings, “Mum is a force of nature.”

The low, earthy hum of the cello stunned them into silence. 

“Alright, Remy?” asked Sirius.

The pale boy’s blue eyes had watered and he blinked profusely, “Erm, yes, that was beautiful, Tonks.”

“Thank you,” she blushed, “Peter, if I may… improvise a bit?”

“By all means!” the chubby blond, who was a classical musician by training, nodded eagerly.

Tonks swooped her bow and brought them a crescendo, “Whew! Did you get that?” 

Remus had one headphone pressed to his ear and gave her a thumbs up, “Do you want to try layering some staccato over the runs?” 

“Yes!” she donned a pair of headphones, which looked too large for her petite head but only added to her cuteness.

Their usually shy bassist and mixer was overflowing with ideas and the song just kept building between himself, Tonks, and Peter. He caught Sirius’ eyes watching him with… pride? Love? Then, he did something he never had before: he sang solo.

The gift of your melody

How did I ever live

‘Til the day I heard it

The way you look and see

Into my very soul

Parts I’d rather let alone

His voice wasn’t strong like James’ or husky like Sirius’, or even smooth like Peter’s, but no lyric on their album until now sounded quite so raw and vulnerable.

The stars can try to burn me

All I feel is warm under your sun

You’re the only sign I see

All we have is suddenly enough

Remus seemed to realize he was singing out loud in front of an audience and ducked his head with pinked cheeks.

“Do you lot always write songs this fast?” Tonks looked between the band members in amazement.

“Hardly. It seems you’ve inspired ol’ Remy,” James’ chuckle was interrupted by the door slamming, leaving a vacant space where Sirius once stood.

“What’s gotten into him?” Peter reached into the biscuit jar. Music always made him hungry.

“It’s probably Walburga again,” James sighed, “She’s been texting - harassing - him to come back to the show, but now that he’s eighteen, she can’t bind him to his contract anymore.”

“I swear half the ratings are from his presence alone,” Tonks shook her head, “All the girls at school love him and ask me about him all the time.”

“But… he came out last season,” Remus puzzled.

“They’re convinced it was a stunt for the show,” she played with the silver charms on her bracelet, “or that he just wanted to twist Burga’s guts.” 

“That sounds like our Sirius,” James covered his lopsided grin with his hand.

Remus was silent and put away the nail polish tubes with an almost imperceptible sulk to his lanky stature.

Peter frowned and went off to find their friend. He stopped short at the sound of snuffles coming from the washroom. He sat on the floor beside the weeping boy and held his shaking shoulders.

“Never fall for a straight boy,” Sirius sniffed woefully.

The pianist pursed his lips, “He’s technically never said that he -”

“You saw him in there! He said more than he ever had to any of us! Tonks is a nice girl… I mean… she’s my niece so that’s going to be awkward… God, have you ever seen Remus open up like that to anyone?” he fisted the front of his Rolling Stones t-shirt in his veiny hands, “Her music spoke to him… or maybe we just haven’t been listening to him enough? I mean… I know I’m loud… Am I a terrible friend, Pete?” 

“No, you’re not! I think… if you like someone… you need to tell them. You and James both. There’s no romance in pining. It’s just a wretched feeling.”

“But I’m too late,” Sirius moped. 

They sat there awhile longer before Peter insisted that he’d feel better if he had some lunch. 

“Petey, do me a favour, take everyone out to eat… I just… I just want to be alone with Kitty for a bit,” Kitty was his electric guitar.

Peter wanted to scream, “He loves you too, alright?!” but this was something they had to talk out themselves, so all he said was, “Sure, whatever you need.”

Alone in the studio, Sirius played a few mournful notes before carressing the strings in a light strumming pattern, swirling up his feelings from where they slumbered within, until he couldn’t bear it anymore. He stood suddenly and hit the record button.

Let me be your moonlight, moonlighter love

Let me be your low-light, hold tighter love

Let me be your good time, feels righter love

Let me be your moonlight, moonlighter love

Kitty let out a few lingering wails at his command.

Remus was the first of the group to return and when he saw Sirius in the booth, he smiled so his dimples popped and put on the headphones so he could listen from the outside.

Let me be your moonlight, moonlighter love

Let me be your midnight, ghost-rider love

Let me be your closed-eyes, lonely-nighter love

Let me be your moonlight, moonlighter love

Remus seemed to be transfixed on the dark-haired crooner as the last electric hum left Kitty’s baby pink body.

“That’s all I got,” Sirius said finally. 

“Right, right…” he ended the recording, “D’y’mind if I layer that over what we made earlier?” the mixer asked softly, “I think that’s the sound we’re missing and it’s a beautiful chorus.”

“It doesn’t really go with that sun and warmth bit you had going, does it?”

Remus tilted his head like a wolf pup might, “The best love has a sense of duality and balance.” 

Sirius nodded and came out of the booth. He laid his head on his friend’s - for that was what they were, he thought, all they were - shoulder while the track was built. “You need to use more aloe vera.”

“Hmm?” 

“Scars on your chin from our little motorcycle accident,” a pang of guilt shot like a pinball around his chest cavity. He’d been the one driving.

“But I like them. It makes me edgy.”

“What?” Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.

Remus blushed, “You and James - but you especially - are… tough lads, you know? And then there’s me… homely, gay band junkie -”

“Wait, say that again?” Sirius sat up so they were practically nose to nose.

“I’m a band junkie?” 

“No, before that!”

“I’m homely and gay?” 

“Yes!” Sirius cheered and then kissed him hard.

Remus’ initial confusion gave way to passion as he entangled his fingers in the other boy’s long locks.

“Mm!” Sirius only pulled away to say, “I’ve got the last chorus!”

Let me be your moonlight, moonlighter love

Let me be your take time, take higher love

Let me be your goodnight, sweet sigher love

Let me be your moonlight, moonlighter love

[zosociologist]

@brownskinsugarplum76 you didn’t skip a beat with this one ma’am!

Nicknames: Lay-Lay / Lay (can replace y with an i for both)

Name: Hallai (pronounced “Ha-lay-ya”)

Zodiac: Libra (ion remember all that extra moon solar system hi-low stuff)

Favorite Artist(s): [Rock/Oldie Goldies related since this blog is mainly for that] Led Zeppelin (obviously), The Police, Rush, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Beatles, Talking Heads, The B-52′s & R.E.M (ATHENS GANG GANG!!!), The Clash, Joni Mitchell, Jethro Tull, Steely Dan, Yes, The Who, Kajagoogoo, Prince, Gorillaz, Culture Club, Billie Holiday, Hall & Oates, Fleetwood Mac, James Brown, Os Mutantes, Spirit, Funkadelic, Chicago, Queen, The Rolling Stones, The Mamas & The Papas, Strawberry Alarm Clock, The Association, The Band, Ohio Players, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Love, CAN, Jim Croce, The Yardbirds, The Specials, Electric Light Orchestra, Janis Joplin, The Amazing Blondel, Frank Zappa, Sam Cooke, Living Colour, System of a Down, Duran Duran, Oingo Boingo, The Mills Brothers, Dionne Warwick, New York Dolls (I would put more but this is way more than there should be lmao)

Favorite Sports Team: Bold of you to assume I watch SpOrTs ....I meaannn besides UFC & Figure skating ion really be in the cut like that my dudes, and like Plum I suppose I rep the Georgia Bulldogs....to an extent....only because I’m not too far from UGA

Other Blogs: 

@pinktiger501 (My VERRRYYY first blog that I opened when I was 14...you can literally see my gradual phases of fandoms I’ve been in change by the year)

@aceblankthoughts (I think I made this sideblog when I was 16? It was supposed to be an aesthetic/minimalist blog but I failed and it turned out just as chaotic as my first one)

@melanated-writersblock (I made this just last year! May second favorite blog I’ve made after this one. My Korean music sideblog where I ALSO write fics for artists as well)

Do I get Asks?: Surprisingly yes! It makes my heart happy

Blogs I follow: In total I follow 1,309 folks on here

Tumblr Crushes: I have none

Lucky Number: 1,999

Wearing: (Right Now) my blue MTV shirt and black shorts, (In the next hour) my dark plaid trousers with my black Led Zeppelin tee over a white turtleneck and my platform black velvet doc martens (today is my first day back at uni for the Spring semester so I gotta make a good impression)

Dream Vacation: Staying at a nice house in Italy with a decent amount of land and probably a vineyard for a summer. Or a trip to Seoul with a few of my homegirls (we’ve been talking about this since my sophomore year of highschool, it’s gonna fucking happen before I turn 30). Springtime in France, I wake up and walk to the balcony of a cozy penthouse studio apartment with a vintage feel while listening to a Billie Holiday record while I read a nice book and eat my morning breakfast after a night of getting my back blown out by Timothee Chalamet.................................yeah probably too specific-

Dream: To be a world renowned film and tv show producer/actress/director/writer/singer/etc. and whenever I’m not working on big film or tv projects I’d like to be a film professor at a big university or at least do guess speaker lectures about film and tv at ivy league universities on my down time. (whew! the ambition.....THE FLAVOR!!!)

Dream Car: A 1974 Cadillac Eldorado, Toyota Sequoia (I have a 2003 model but a newer version would slap), and a Murcielago Lamborghini

Favorite Food: Cuban food & Bahamian food. Period. 

Drink of choice: Cuba Libre, Sangria, Sky Juice, Goombay Smash & garapiña

Instruments: My voice is my number one instrument I basically hopped out the womb singing. I played trumpet...middle school through highschool...7 years of my life wasted on an instrument that I felt no connection with (and I STILL can’t fucking read notes!!!). Love the piano but can’t play for shit. And I wanna play the guitar so bad but I haven’t started yet and I’m already 20 and I feel like it’s too late but oh well I’m still gonna try.

Languages: Spanish (thanks to my Cuban dad...my phrasing and accent is impeccable but I’m not fluent and I’m fucking failing my ancestors), I use a lot of Bahamian slang because of my mom and I sometimes confuse my friends (it’s not my fault they don’t know wtf a boongie is), and Korean (started teaching myself when I was 15, I can read and spell out hangul but I haven’t practiced in a while...if I keep it up for a year or so I could be fluent....which is a shame.....I should’ve been fluent in Spanish instead........)

Celebrity Crushes: (Sheeesh...we’d be here all day) okay so......Sting, Robert Plant, Roger Daltrey, Anthony Kiedis, Duff McKagan, Eddie Vedder, Josh Kiszka, John Boyega, Trevante Rhodes, Timothee Chalamet, Dacre Montgomery, Florian Munteanu, Seulgi, Jeongyeon, SZA, Indya Moore (aaaand we’ll call it a day for now)

Random Fact: I marathoned both Magic Mike movies the day I turned 18, and I used to scam men on BBW dating sites and made $379 by the end of it.

Tagging: Umm......lemme tag @fan-with-issues @duffshairdye @slashscowboyboots @hallyudoinchica @rogers-wateringcan @ilovetomkeiferslips @xx-kurt-cocaine--xx and anyone else that would like to do it!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #247

“i tried to choke my mom with my umbilical cord, the doctor was too busy amputating my horns.”

Have you ever had confetti pancakes? I don't believe so. Do you obsess over your appearance? To a degree, ex. in regards to weight. Are you responsible for stuffing someone’s stocking? No. What’s your favorite romantic comedy? Ah man, idk. I like romcoms, just none are coming to mind right now. Do you stock up on make-up palettes during November? ????? no????? Have you ever taken a class online? Yes. Do you have a Neopets account? Omg I have so many piled up, I'm sure, lol. Loved that shit and kept going back. Do you make your own smoothies or juices? No. Do you think time really does heal all? No. Are you more sensitive to heat or the cold? HEAT, FUCKING CHRIST. Has anyone searched your room for anything recently? Mom helped me search for one of my mood stabilizers that the cat got out of my basket... We never found it. A new bottle. Thank god my psychiatrist just gave me a sample pack til my prescription can be refilled. Is anything in your room purposely hidden? Yes. Do you get a cold around the holidays? I rarely get sick, regardless of the season. Does it snow where you live? Rarely. Have you ever been pranked via hidden camera? No. Is hair gel a turn off on guys? "Not necessarily, but too much can be." <<<< This. Do you think cursing makes people sound unintelligent? Lol fuck off. What’s something you can cook extremely well? The only thing I CAN cook is cheesy scrambled eggs but I mean they're exceptionally good lol. Have you ever been bitten by a snake? Nope. How about a spider? Possibly at some point. If you don't want kids, was there ever a time you did, and vice-versa? The only time I ever wanted kids was deep into Jason's and my relationship. It's funny because I wanted three and now I'm just all NOPE. I stopped wanting kids after him. What is your favorite color for bridesmaid dresses? Idc. Do you ever count sheep to help you fall asleep? No. Do you have a youtube channel? If so, when did you start it? Yeah. I was on YouTube real early... don't remember the actual year, though. Do you have a secret crush right now? No. When was the last time you called customer service? I haven't. Do you take birth control pills? Not currently for mood reasons, but with my incredible fear of being raped, I kinda wanna go back. Do you like chocolate cake? Yeah man. Do you know anyone who doesn’t want to have kids? Plenty of people, myself included. Do you regret letting a certain guy or girl slip away? Ugh idk. There's no telling how awfully or well that path would've gone. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you consider yourself a good artist? Decent, anyway. Do you ever play board games anymore? Not really, I don't enjoy board games. The only time I ever really do is if Girt's over cuz that's like our "thing." Who was your first celebrity crush? Whew, Jesse McCartney. Who in your family did you get your height from? Mom. Who did you get your smile from? your hair color? your eye color? Smile, idk. Hair, also unsure. Dad was born dirty blond like me, but his hair turned black. Meanwhile I think Mom has always had brown hair, but hers is very dark/almost black. My maternal grandpa had blue eyes like me. Do you have big or small hands? Idk, normal. What was the name of your first imaginary friend you remember having? I never really had one. Do you pray to God regularly? Considering I don't believe in Him, no. What is your favorite version of the Bible to read? Even growing up religious, I sure never spent time reading various versions of the Bible. Have you been baptized? If so, how and where were you baptized? I was as a baby in a Roman Catholic church. You know, the traditional baptism with being dipped in water. Do you eat meat? Sadly. What college did you go to? and what was your major? I'm not sharing what college I go to, but my major is Art & Design. Do you miss living with a roommate? I look back on living with Jason, Jacob, and Amanda fondly most of the time, but idk if I can say I miss it. I at least don't miss my mental health. Have you ever been abused in any way? I feel incredibly thankful that I haven't... It seems like most people I know have been in some way or form. Do you like unicorns? Yeah man, they're dope. How old were you when you found out Santa wasn’t real? Idk, some year in elementary school. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Ha ha no, I've got a cat for that. He insists on being cuddled most of the time. Name 3 things you are allergic to. Just pollen and silver. Oh, I do get headaches from artificial sweeteners, but "allergic" seems like the wrong word. Is there one book you have read over and over again because it’s so good? if so, which is it? The only two books I know I've read more than once are Because of Winn-Dixie and the Meerkat Manor book. Who was your favorite Rugrats character? Uhhh I think it was just regular ole Tommy. Which fairytale resembles your life the most? Uh idk. Do you play games on your phone a lot? No. What’s your favorite thing to do on your phone? Text Sara. Where do you buy most of your clothes? Wal-Mart or Hot Topic. Who is your favorite cousin? I don't have a favorite. Do you have family that lives in another state? Oh yeah, we're all the hell over the place. What states have you lived in? Only NC. Do you watch birth vlogs on youtube? bitch what the fuck What is your favorite type of cake? Red velvet. Favorite arcade game? I neeeeeed to find an arcade one day that actually has the Silent Hill game. It's so rare. I'm sure I'd love it. Have you ever found a roller coaster relaxing? Uh no, but I've never been on one, nor can I even imagine one ever being relaxing. Have you ever seen a spirit? I believe I have. Have you ever been kidnapped? Yikes no. Is there a running trail near your house? Not that I'm aware of. A game you cheated on in elementary school? None that I remember? Do you wear a retainer at night? I'm SUPPOSED to, but I haven't in so long that it doesn't even fit anymore. Where is the last place you had a kiss? The airport. When was the last time you cried out of physical pain? I think it hasn't been since that infected cyst was drained in like late '16. FUCK that. Have you ever done anything to Support the Troops? No. Do you donate blood? I did once, but now I'm too nervous to because I know I don't drink enough water and don't wanna faint. Have you ever owned the socks with toes on them? Ha, yeah, my sisters and I did. They were just a silly gift sometimes. What were you the last time you went trick or treating? WOW I couldn't even try to tell you, that's reaching far back. What was your favorite part about studying ancient Greeks and Romans? The badass names lmao. Where did your mom go to high school? Somewhere in NY. What’s a subject you would never major in? Mathematics. Is there someone who you can turn to for money and not be ashamed? No. I'm only EVER capable of doing so with Mom, but even then I don't like it. Have you ever swam in a river? Yeah, as a kiddo. I don't think I would now. What food do you love the smell of while it’s cooking? Cinnamon rolls omfggggg. What food do you hate the smell of uncooked? Fish, I guess? Has a bee ever stung you? Yes, once. Where did you last go camping? Never been. In what month do you start Christmas shopping? I can't Christmas shop considering I don't have an income. Have you ever slept in a bed with someone with bad BO? Yes. Do you have a favorite flavor at Baskin Robbins? No. Have you ever had a crush on a celebrity of the same sex? HUNNY Hannah Hart is a GODDESS godDAMN What kind of flowers would you plant in your garden? I'm too lazy for a garden. Do you believe that kids should be taught abstinence? I would definitely inform them of it being a completely valid and safest form of STD prevention, but I don't believe it should be what is "right." What's important is educating them on safe sex and to choose whom they're intimate with very carefully. I absolutely encourage them being taught what being "too young" means, too. Now what "too young" is can be argued, but let's be a late teen at least. When’s the last time you went to Chuck E. Cheese? Boy, I don't have a clue. What’s your favorite cheese or cheese flavored food? American. Cheese-flavored food is absolutely impossible to pick. Do you like black licorice? I hate licorice. Do you watch anything on the E! network? No. Have you ever tried out or thought of trying out for American Idol? Nope. Did you keep any momentos of high school dances? I had my... what's it called? The flower band on your wrist? Whatever, I had that for a long time. Do you still have clothes from your high school dances? I have both prom dresses. I'm probably gonna try to sell them this prom season though because I have absolutely no reason to keep them, and I'm poor lmao. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Ever been to the original 13 colonies? I live in NC so like,,, Have you ever been to a concert that got out of control? Nope. Can you jump rope double dutch? I used to be able to as a kid. I loved jump rope. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? Eek... idk. Actually, I might know. I want to know, but also don't, if whether or not how I treated Jason after the breakup was abusive or not. I've asked people in my life, old therapist included, if it was from what I told them (which was honest), and the unanimous answer has been no, that I was sick/actually insane and heartbroken beyond words, but yeah. I still wonder about it. Do you have a bucket list? If so, what are the top three things? Not really, but I mean of course there's things I wanna do, top two (idk about three) being to meet Mark and visit the KMP to photograph and pet the meerkats. Do you feel you had a happy childhood? For the most part, yeah. When did you last cry in front of another person? Last week when I was having a meltdown about school. How do you feel about tattoos and piercings? Explain. I LIVE!!!!!!!! FOR THEM!!!!!!!! As someone who never felt totally comfortable in her body, one thing that has always helped me has been new tats and piercings. It's like a more permanent form of make-up, you could say. All they've ever done is make me like a part of myself. Do you wear a lot of makeup? Why/why not? I almost never do unless I want to take a "pretty" picture. Talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. JINKIES!!!!!!! UHHHHHHH man that's hard 'cuz there's a whole whoppin' load. I guess I can talk about some lyrics from Ozzy's "Life Won't Wait" that used to make me really emotional back in the dark days: "Every day that you wait, you're falling faster / no sleight of hand, no twist of fate, no ever after / when it's gone - it's gone, a fight to the bitter end." Just that whole song used to sting so much when I felt like I really was just entirely wasting my life being sad every day. Just like... a lot of Ozzy's lyrics have really resonated and stuck with me. I still have the hardest time believing the Parkinson's news. God, life's cruel. Poison a legendary singer's voice. I hope, so long he feels truly capable, this concert still happens so I can actually hear and see him one time and literally sob and okay I'm getting emotional basically I Love Ozzy Osbourne. List the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel. Ha, speaking of concerts. Only seen Alice Cooper, but it was aaaaaaamazing! Outside in a (mostly light) thunderstorm playing some classic good shit. It was a fun adventure, especially having my younger sis, a full-on redneck, come along just because she was bored and came for the ride. She was so, so, SO confused and creeped out and was NOT fucking happy when he brought his python on stage as he usually does. We were absolutely drenched when it was over; the ride home, we were freezing, and changing out of those soaked clothes was like a holy experience. Who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say? Jason telling me he forgives me and doesn't hate me. Do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organized/not organized? I don't, sadly. My bed is where I do like... everything, which I hate. I'd love to turn my sister's old room into like my "work" room, where I do homework, draw, etc., but I can't for a number of reasons. What is your night time routine? Go to the bathroom, take my meds, go to bed. Not very complicated. What’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? Certain places I've "done things" oops. If you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? I wanna dye my hair lilac currently. I wouldn't change the style. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? N/A What’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? Murder, to name just one. If you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? If you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair? My hair is short now. What is the most important thing to you in your life right now? My mental health.

[ripley95]

OC Interview

I was tagged by @kenshi-vakarian7 and @rpgwarrior4824 for the OC interview meme. Thank you so much!

I’ve been putting off a ton of other OC memes that mostly @rpgwarrior4824 tagged me in and maybe some others? It’s been so long I can’t even remember, so sorry if I’ve missed anyone! Rather than flooding everyone’s dash with other OC memes, I’m going to do the interview, and add all of the other memes below the cut.

I’ll be doing all of them for Jane Shepard from one of the stories I’m currently writing.

Also, if anyone wants to do a huge OC master post like this with any or all of the memes involved, feel free to consider yourself tagged.

1. What’s your name?  

Jane Shepard

2. Do you know why you are named that?

My parents were looking for something traditional. Something about remembering where we came from, having connections to Earth. I’m not really quite sure about their rationale behind that.

3. Are you single or taken?

Single? I’m not really sure how this is pertinent information.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

My tactical cloak has gotten me out of a few sticky situations. I guess that counts, right? Not everyone knows how to use those effectively.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

I’m afraid that goes against my job description.

6. What’s your eye color?

Green.

7. How about your hair color?

Brown.

8. Have any family members?

My mom, Hannah Shepard. She’s a Rear Admiral now, you know. She’s pretty distinguished in her own right.

9. Oh? How about any pets?

I have a hamster.  His name is Pongo. I have some fish too... actually, I should probably double check that one.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

Intrusive and unnecessary interviews.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

I do like my model ships. There’s something about the process of putting them together that’s almost meditative.

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

Hasn’t everyone?

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

I’m sorry, you do know who I am right? I will say, that I don’t take that for granted. I always try my best to avoid death, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.

14. What kind of animal are you?

A human? Honestly, I don’t even understand the point of most of these.

15. Name your worst habits?

Apparently, indulging reporters, for what? Some kind of romance magazine I’m guessing?

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Of course. My mom’s been a great example for me. She raised me by herself for most of her life, and she’s always tried to do her best by me. She’s a great role model. Then there’s Admiral Anderson, but, maybe let’s not talk about him.

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

I really don’t see how this is any of your business.

18. Do you go to school?

Not anymore. I was raised going to the Alliance Academy, almost conditioned for military life. Then there was N7 training, but nothing as formal as that since.

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

I don’t know. Now that the war is over, maybe? I never managed to think that far ahead.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

You could say that. I have a VI dedicated to sorting my mail.

21. What are you most afraid of?

Failure. Letting down my team.

22. What do you usually wear?

Usually whatever the Alliance has requisitioned for me.

23. What one food tempts you?

Oooh, anything freshly cooked an warm, and you’ll have me wrapped around your little finger. Let’s just say I’ve become way more accustomed to MRE’s than I care for.

24. Am I annoying you?

Not exactly, though I’m not sure why some of these are so personal.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Great.

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

Middle.

27. How many friends do you have?

Living a life in space hasn’t allowed for much stability on that front, but my crew has become a second family. It’s not about how many, but about the bonds that aren’t breakable, and I’ve found that in my crew.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

Like I said, anything fresh or home cooked, and you have my attention.

29. Favorite drink?

Water’s never failed me. I’m sorry, were you looking for something more interesting? I’ll say that I am probably too attached to my coffee supply too.

30. What’s your favorite place?

Places have never really been a stability for me either. I guess the Normandy’s become pretty special. 

31. Are you interested in anyone?

Well... there was someone. I’m not really sure anymore.

32. That was a stupid question…

Yeah...

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

I can’t say that I’ve had much of a chance for either, but I remember that sticky gross feeling after swimming in an ocean, so I’ll have to say lake.

34. What’s your type?

I’m sorry?

35. Any fetishes?

Oh, we’re really not going there.

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

Are you kidding me? You’re going to ask this after that last question? What exactly is this interview for? Outdoors, I guess. I wouldn’t say no to a nice cabin though.

Fairy Tale Aesthetics: Brothers Grimm Version

SNOW WHITE.

jade trinket boxes.  taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror.  yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives.  sewing by the window.  combs laced with pearls and poison.  an apple white one side and red the other. white doves.  frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS.

a blunt axe.  a ring of chalk.  tear-stained cheeks.  sweet pears. hands tied behind back.  shallow rivers.  aching feet, walking for days.  flowing gown.  liquid silver.  wax seals.  blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST.

lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies.  tiny milk snakes.  baskets of strawberries.  fat toads.  sparkling snow.  fur cloaks.  raw gemstones.  kettles made of copper.  red wine.  a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD.

a tiny key made of gold.  pools of blood.  stains that won’t rub away.  galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands.  dragging by the hair.  dark and damp cellars.  marble walls.  shivering with fear.  screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS.

sitting side-saddle.  daughter of a witch.  nettles.  white feathers.  refusing to smile. needles and threads.  a castle in the forest.  sound of beating wings.  birthmarks.  climbing trees.  balls of yarn.  silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP.

wildflowers.  rich-tasting cake.  wicker baskets.  the path rarely trod.  sharp teeth. curtains drawn.  a dying fireplace.  grey pelts.  red velvet.  handmade quilts.  sunlight peeking through branches.  opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

OC Body Language Meme

DEFENSIVENESS

arms crossed / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth / brow furrowing / shoulders hunched / sudden, sharp movements / growling

REFLECTIVE

hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off — cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows / scrunched nose / staring to the side / fidgeting

SUSPICION

arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes / smooth, quick movements / sniffing the air loudly

INSECURITY & ANXIETY

chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging at pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer/marker/cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically / hugging themselves / head whipping around frantically / hanging down avoiding eye contact / low growling / shoulders hunched over / sitting with knees pulled up to the chest

ANGER & FRUSTRATION

short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / running hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up – defensive posturing / clenching of jaw/ grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales / hitting walls and random objects / loud growling / pacing / yelling randomly

OC sense aesthetic

SIGHT. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colours.

HEARING

crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and a / c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH

being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE

coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

Bold Relationship Tag

height difference | mutual pining | first kiss | first love | wedding | in-jokes | lgbt+ | family disapproves | friend disapproves | would die for each other | fake relationship | arranged wedding | cuddlers| pda friendly | and they were room mates | holding hands | secret relationship | opposing world views | opposing personalities | opposing goals | getting a pet | have kids | want kids | grow old together | relationship failures | rests head on shoulder | share a bed | token dummies | relationship doubts | they have a song | first date | share a jacket | sharing a blanket | mutual interests | study buddies | bathing together | crash into hello | accidental nudity | laundry | same hobbies | cooking for each other | big fancy gala | sibling rivalry | hair stroking | dancing | laying in the grass | watching stars together | watching the other sleep | shared values | friends to lovers  | enemies to lovers | lovers to enemies | childhood friends | slow burn | love triangle | toxic relationship | sitting on each other’s laps |  can’t be together | hugs | forehead touches | neck kisses | car/motorbike rides | compliments | nicknames | falling asleep together | late night talks | gifts |

If anyone actually made it this far, I’d be shocked. But seriously, if you want to do any kind of variance of an OC master post for your OCs, feel free to do it and tag me.

[yaachtynoboat711]

At First Glance Ch. 4: The Commencement 👩🏽‍🎓

A/N: It’s finally here! The end of At First Glance has arrived and I have to say, I’m a bit emotional about ending my first series 😭. Thank you guys for supporting At First Glance these past few months. I have another series in development and then hopefully I’ll actually think about the wedding series. But for now, enjoy our fave couple in this series finale!

Word Count: ~3.2k

Warning(s): Black Excellence, Black Love, Smut (FINALLY!)

Saturday, December 7, 2013. 11:06 a.m.

Woolsey Hall, Yale University

At just 23, Yaa was the youngest recipient of a doctorate in African Studies. She was also a joint PhD-JD student that became the valedictorian of both classes (she earned her JD in May), which as you imagine, is almost unheard of, ESPECIALLY at a prestigious institution such as Yale.

Of all the people proud of her accomplishments, Winston was undoubtedly the happiest. She was the smartest person he’d ever met by a long shot. Not only was she smart as hell, but she was also gorgeous and had enough personality for seven people. Bonus points for Winston. As a fellow Yale grad, Winston enjoyed the return to New Haven. Amid all the celebration, Yaa and her family were meeting Winston’s mom and sister today. Whew chile, the celebrations. Winston and his family found Yaa’s family, Tanisha, Kimya, and Daveon (AKA the Yalemigos, or the Migos) all sitting in the same area.

“Mr. Duke great to see you again.”, Mustapha said hugging Winston.

“Likewise, sir! Great to be seen. Get to see my little lady graduate.”, he laughed. His laugh turned into a full smile as the reality of his girlfriend’s accomplishments set in. He looked down at the program and chuckled as Yaa’s name led the list of her 16 other cohorts. My little genius.

The fanfare startled Winston out of his thoughts. The guests looked down to watch the faculty and graduates proceed into Woolsey’s main seating. Proud friends and family cheered, hollered, and whistles as they saw their respective graduate. Winston scanned the incoming crowd for his short scholar, but to no avail. What took Winston 3 minutes took the Migos only 0.2 seconds to spot their 4th companion.

“HOODIE WHOOOOOOOO!”, the friends yelled as they spotted their best friend. Yaa’s neck snapped in the direction she heard the squad call. Can’t take niggas anywhere. She shook her head and examined the friends and family in attendance. Everyone stood up and took pictures and acknowledging their graduate. Winston saw his girlfriend and stared in amazement before he mouthed “Love you” to her. She mouthed “Love you, too” to him before taking her seat.

Yaa walked in with all confidence in her stride. She was glowing and there was nothing better that could happen today than this present moment. Her tam sat on top of her curly locs. Her round tortoise shell frames added an intellectual and sophisticated touch to her look. Her signature bright red lips seldom separated as her white smile remained plastered on her face. She bore her gold valedictorian medal below her blue hood along with her blue and gold ΣΓΡ and black Class of 2013 Kente stoles. The Black graduates wore black leather gloves on their right hands in solidarity and in reverence to their ancestors. Except for being around Winston, she’d never looked happier.

The ceremony went as any other large commencement: the speaker, the President and Provost gave words of encouragement to all the graduates on their future endeavors. Each college presented their graduates with their Yale degree. Finally, the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences conferred degrees. Ironically, the Africana and African-American Studies Department elected to go last due the small number of graduates. When the department was announced, Yaa’s family prepared to get up. They shared mutual expressions of joy and bliss as “Doctor Khalida Yaa Denae Abdullah, Magna Cum Laude.”, echoed throughout Woolsey Hall. She raised her right fist high in the air as she walked across the stage. She hugged her advisor and committee chair before receiving her degree. She walked off the stage doing a quick praise break. The least she could do.

The grads recessed out of Woolsey and immediately searched for their parties and took pictures. Yaa was in the middle of her search when she felt two sturdy taps on her shoulder. It was him. “Hey, Doc.”, he greeted. Yaa scoffed as her billion dollar smile grew from a smirk. She playfully rolled her eyes and shook her head before reaching up for a kiss. “Hey, Duke. A girl can get used to hearing ‘Doc’. ”, she hummed into his lips. He finally broke the kiss and handed her a bouquet of her favorite roses: white, yellow, and pink. She gasped at the sight. “Baby! They’re beautiful.”, she squealed. She jumped right back into his embrace. “More where that came from, Denae.”, he whispered.

He never called her Denae, nor did his voice ever get that deep whenever he talked to her. She shot him a look before kissing him once more and walking towards the Migos, who were all Snapchatting and gassing her up.

“BEST FRIEND DONE GOT A WHOLE FOURTH DEGREE, Y’ALL!”, Daveon yelled. Yaa’s shoulders shook as she laughed at her foolish ass friends.

“Yaaaaaasssss ma’am! You better be Black Excellence. C’mon, Lil’ Angela!”, Kimya called.

“Bitch, I’m just tryna see the outfit. The people deserve to see what you’re wearing.”, Tanisha bluntly stated. The other two egged Yaa on to unzip the massive black gown. The only thing everyone could see were her black velvet smoking loafers. She unzipped the gown, unveiling a black pencil skirt and a white shirt with “PheD the Hell Up” written in blue. She would always get the laugh in somewhere.

She insisted that the family take pictures at her rental house because it was still December in New Haven, Connecticut. Chatter, laughter, and faint sounds of Black Christmas music filled the house as both families meshed as one. Carrie and Momma Cora held conversation most of the afternoon; Cindy and Khadijah exchanged medical stories; and Mustapha and Rainey discussed everything under the sun with Avery, Jahlil, and Winston. All four of the Migos were upstairs taking naps to prepare for dinner. Yaa especially deserved that nap. She hadn’t a decent amount of sleep since returning from Thanksgiving in Louisiana.

“Where’s Khalida? I think it’s time we all split.”, Khadijah asked Winston.

“She’s up there with her friends taking a nap. Gal deserves it. That means we need to leave and take naps of our own before dinner tonight.”, Carrie replied. “Winston, you staying here or something?”

“Yes ma’am. I might as well join the Snooze Crew upstairs.”, he said walking towards the front door. He finally went upstairs to Yaa’s room where he was greeted to a room full of snoring. Yaa’s petite figure was curled up in the middle of the messy bed. Her locs were scattered across her silk pillows and her Breakfast at Tiffany‘s eye mask covered her eyes. Her mouth was open as she snored loudly.She was dead to the world. Winston chuckled to himself as he watched his beautiful scholar catch up on Z’s. He sat on the unoccupied side of the bed and watched her sleep. He cleared her face of her wild locs and stopped when she stirred. Eventually, she unmasked herself and gasped when she saw Winston.

“Shit! Don’t scare me like th... was I snoring? Oh fuck, how long have you been watching me?”, she asked. He shook his head before kissing her forehead.

“Yes, you were snoring. Don’t worry about that. I still love you. I’ve been here long enough.”, Winston admitted.

“Well, since you love me so much, let’s try to find brunch. I’ll wake up the crew.”, she announced as she crawled out of bed, “That way, we won’t be as hungry going to this bougie ass Mediterranean spot my folks selected for tonight’s dinner.”

He rolled his eyes, “You better be glad you graduated today, Pumpkin.”

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

Olea Restaurant, New Haven, Connecticut, 8:15 p.m.

The graduation dinner was running smoothly. The private dining area was tastefully accented with gifts and Yaa’s graduation pictures. Nearly twenty minutes after the family arrived, Yaa and Tanisha walked in side by side. Everyone stood and applauded the woman of the hour. Winston stared in awe at Yaa who, as always, strutted into the room with such grace and power.

Khalida chose the more adult outfit option for dinner. She wore her locs in a low bun and kept her glasses, tam, hood, stoles, and medal on. Her royal blue dress fit snug. Though Khalida often wore form-fitting dresses, none were as form-fitting as this one. Her rather well-endowed chest and wide hips were brought to the forefront; her fupa was somewhat concealed by the side peplum panels. The nude pumps she wore were accented by her anklets. Truly a work of art.

“My goodness, sweetheart. This dress is absolutely divine on you.”, Khadijah commented as she examined her first born’s outfit.

“Ibby, you look refreshed. That nap did you some good,I see ”, Mustapha teased.

“Thanks, Umi and Baba.”, Yaa said. “Thank all of y’all for coming and supporting the kid. I can’t believe this is all happening. I’m like...finished! Yale really gave me a doctorate.” The realization of her journey’s culmination brought tears of joy to the “hard-nosed” Yaa. She finally sat the far end of the table next to Winston.

“Pumpkin, you look divine.”, Winston whispered in Yaa’s ear during their hug and kiss. He twirled her around to get a better look of her outfit. She’s going to be the death of me.

“Why, thank you. Gotta show school spirit, y’know.”, Yaa joked. Winston pushed his girlfriend’s chair up to the table.

“I’d like to make a toast...”, Winston stood and began, “...to the woman of the hour, Doctor Abdullah. I know we’ve been in each other’s lives for not even two months, but watching you work and grind towards your goals has given me the initiative to better myself not only as an up and coming actor, but as a person. Khalida, you give me more reasons to be the luckiest man alive and today is the pinnacle. I love you so so much, Khalida, you have no idea. So here’s to our Khalida and her many successes now and forever. Ase.”

The table echoed scattered “Asé’s” and “aww’s” as they clinked their glasses. Yaa cheesed to keep tears forming as she looked into Winston’s eyes as he sat down. “I love you more,Winston.”, she declared as she kissed him. He placed his hand at the hem of her dress and rubbed her thigh. She cut her eyes to his hands and then directly to him; he replied with a smirk. Buzz buzz. Yaa wasn’t the only one who peeped Winston’s unusual behavior.

———————

Winston walked into the bathroom to see Yaa freedom her locs from its bun. He enjoyed seeing her hair down. She noticed him in the mirror studying her.

“May I help you,sir?”, Yaa questioned. Winston walked behind her and nuzzled her neck.

"I love you." he said, wrapping his arms around her.

"What has gotten into you, today? You haven't kept your hands off me all day." she said, giggling.

"I just want to show you that I love you. I think I may have just realized how much I want you." he said. She looked at him, taken aback.

"Want me? You are just now figuring that out?" ,she said, pulling away from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's not what I mean." he said, in a low gruff voice. Yaa jumped slightly as she felt his hands grip her ample waist and pull her into him. As if it were instinct, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Seeing you in that dress...having you this close to me."

She closed the last bit of space between her, biting her lip as he craned in. "You are the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. You're smart, accomplished, hilarious. You are phenomenal. But there is a part of each other we haven't experienced.” He picked her up and sat her on the vanity. “And if it's okay with you, Denae, I'm tired of waiting."

She began unbuttoning his shirt. “I thought you’d never ask, baby.”, she whispered. Their lips met and the intoxicating kiss consumed them. Like a drug, their favorite drug. The slow tongue war continued as Yaa finally took Winston’s shirt off. Nothing was breaking this kiss. His hand traveled up her leg.

“Move your arm, baby.”, Yaa said between kisses. He looked at her with hooded eyes and chuckled deeply.

“That’s not my arm,love.”, he replied sensually. She stopped, mouth agape. She cut her eyes between his erect third arm resting against her inner thigh and the cocky smile and lip bite plastered on his face. This nigga finna split me open.

His hand continued its journey to her inner thighs, where he got down to nibble and kiss them with such intent and passion. He picked her up and traveled to the bed. While on the journey, Yaa bumped her head in the doorway of the bathroom. She giggled as he placed her gently on the bed. “Oh my God, Pumpkin, are you okay?! Do you need ice? Please say something.”, Winston rambled nervously. He swiftly placed her on the bed and turned on the lights to examine her head. She finally opened her mouth and laughed...hard. It could’ve been from the bump or just the fact that she was a bona fide clown. Her laugh turned into an all out cackle, prompting Winston to laugh with her.

“I’m fine, love.”, she began saying in between cackles and breaths, “I just bumped my head.If I pass out, just take me to the hospital. No questions.” The passive tone she used made it difficult for Winston to decide if she was joking or being dead serious. Either way, he appreciated how she broke the thick tension between them. The perfect icebreaker. They finally got themselves together and turned off the lights.

“I hate for such a nice dress to come off, but I wanna see what masterpiece is underneath.”, he commented. Lord, that voice. He lifted the dress over her head, where he was met with her ample cleavage being confined by a red lace bra. She freed herself of her bra and he began caressing her breasts.

“I’ve been trying to get to these since we met.”, he commented. She laughed.

“I know. You looked at them like they were water in the desert.”, she answered laughing. As if on cue, he took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple and sucking on it. His tongue traveled up to her sweet spot on her neck. Chills. Her sweet moans served as motivation for his assault of her neck.

Satisfied, he came down and began slowly peppering wet kisses on her feet and leveling up to the inside of her thighs. Shit, spot #2. He looked up to see his girlfriend’s face consumed with pleasure. She bit her lip as she looked down at him with hooded eyes. She cursed under her breath with every kiss he placed. Finally, he kissed her opening, eliciting a back arch and a drawn out “Shiiit!” from Yaa. His mouth became friends with her opening as he sucked on her bud and his tongue explore. He added two fingers as he latched onto her clit. He began pumping his fingers inside of her with a moderate pace. He alternated his sucking with kissing and licking,prompting more hushed cursing from his lover. She was unraveling. He stopped but kept his fingers inside of her. “Fuck you for teasing me like this.”, she moaned. He chuckled. She’s a mess.

“I want you around me, Denae.”, he commented as his fingers brushed up against her opening and examining her nectar. He slid his body between her legs and slid his member inside of her. Her head flew back as his girthy member went deeper inside her tight opening. He noticed her twitch as he lowered himself into her.

“Are you ok,Denae?”, he said examining her face.

“I’m not used to you yet. I’m just tight. I’ll be fine.”, she reassured. Carrie and Khalida ain’t raise no bitch. They both moaned as they began grinding in sync.

“Shit, you fit around me like a glove.”, he moaned, his voice saturated with lust. She kissed him in response.

Winston peppered wet,sloppy kisses on her neck as he rolled his hips, hitting her g-spot deep with every stroke. His pace was slow but unyielding. Her sweet moans and gasps mingled with his low grunts and occasional higher moans. The room was clouded in lust. Besides the sounds of wet skin slapping, moans, and pants, Maxwell’s “Whenever Wherever Whatever” played softly in the background.

Now straddling his lap, Yaa found herself holding back tears as her sexual appetite was being satisfied to her liking. She balanced herself with one hand rested on Winston’s bare chest and the other on the bed. She bounced on his dick as he held on tightly to her love handles. He watched with hooded lust-filled eyes as his girlfriend’s breasts bounced freely against her pace. Her bounce slowly devolved to a twerk and then a gyration as she neared her peak. She was sending him into a tizzy as she clenched tightly onto his dick. If they weren’t already in love, this moment would be when they’d fall in love. Their moans echoed in response as feedback for the other. They were both coming undone. Their rhythm became disonant as they neared the end. Winston sat up and sloppily kissed his girlfriend’s neck. Her breath hitched as they stared into each other’s eyes, both pairs stinging with tears.

“Winston,baby, you feel so good.”, Khalida uttered between her teeth and tears. Her tears and desperate moans served as Winston’s motivation to cum.

“Cum for me, baby.”, he whispered into her ear. He released a low growl; that did it for the both of them. She roared into his shoulder as the sensation of their simultaneous release overwhelmed her core. She collapsed from the sensation.

————————

Yaa and Winston found themselves physically exhausted from their lovemaking. They laid in bed in silence, reflecting on what just occurred. She laid her head on his chest as he tried detangling her locs with his fingers. He gently kissed her locs. “That was...wow. That was uh.”, Winston attempted to strike up conversation.

“Intense? I think that’s the word you’re looking for: intense.”, Yaa suggested. She looked into his eyes and kissed him.

“Yeah, intense. Literally the word I was looking for. My mind is going 25 miles a second. I can’t believe we finally did it.”

“Yours too?! This is...wild.”

“How?”

“Everything we do together feels so organic. I’m really not one to openly be a sap, but you’re so right for me. Being around you makes sense and what we just did is a feeling I’ll never get over...ever.” She interlocked her small fingers into his larger ones and kissed his knuckles. He chuckled as his free trailed between the valley of her breasts.

“I guess your cousin Daniel was right…”, Winston said lifting her chin up to meet his eyes.

“The fuck is he right about?”, she shot up staring him dead in the face. He kissed her lips.

“...I guess I am responsible for making a hard G soft.”, he flinched in anticipation of whatever assault was coming as consequence of his statement. One tickle and pillow fight later, the two found themselves out of breath once more.

“You know, Chris, to be a health nut, you in worse shape than me.”, she giggled.

“Oh, shut up and go to bed.”

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[leelee10898]

For you: Chapter 8- Take you home

Summary: The gang heads to Pennsylvania to Aria’s home town. Leo meets the parents, will he be greeted with open arms? Maxwell has a run in with a certain Baseball Mascot

Master list

Author Notes: This Chapter was part of a NSFW Prompt challenge. @bobasheebaby gave me “ I didn’t know you were so flexible.” the others are just random choices.

Rating: Mature, NSFW, Fluff

Chapter inspiration:

They walked hand in hand along the moon lit streets of Rome. They had just had a romantic dinner and truth be told the only thing on Aria’s mind was getting back to Leo’s hotel room. They had finally had sex the night of the fundraiser and she wanted more. The man was a sex god, somehow she felt like he was just getting started. “I really want to kiss you, right now.” Leo breathed into her hair. She felt the warmth tingle her body “then do it.” She muttered, breath caught in throat. He spun her around, lips crashing down on hers, their tongues tangle together, fighting for dominance. He walked her back, pushing her against the wall. His one hand extended pressed up against the wall, the other exploring her side. “Leo” she moaned. “Come here.” He pulled her into a dark alley. Capturing her lips again in a heated kiss, his hand stroking between her thighs. “Oh. Oh my god.” She moaned “You’re so fucking wet, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He huskily whispered.

 He hooked her panties sliding them down her legs. He un buttoned and un zipped his fly freeing his rock hard cock, grabbing her ass lifting her up against the wall. “Try to stay quiet, you understand. ” his bright blues met her chocolate brown, all she could do was gulp and nod yes. He lowered her down slowly onto his thick, long length. She gasped at the large intrusion. Once he felt her walls settle he pulled out slowly, then slamming into her. “Oh.” She moaned loud. “Shh love, I’m gonna make you cum, bite me if you have to. But don’t you dare make a noise.” He demanded as he pulled out slamming back into her again and again. 

He lifted her ass up and down meeting his thrust. She lifted her leg up hooking it around his shoulders. Leo let out an appreciative growl. She bit down on her lips, trying to silence the screams of pleasure that were bubbling to the surface. She felt the coil tightening with each thrust, the urge to scream becoming to great, her nails digging into his back, silencing her moans as he pounded into her throbbing center. She silently begged for her release, the pleasure was overwhelming, the coil stretched dangerously. She could feel the strings snapping one by one, by one, until she bit down, screaming out onto his shoulder. Her eyes rolled back into her head as a gush of her sweet nectar flooded his cock dripping down his legs. A few pumps and Leo thrust deep into her spilling his creamy ropes of cum inside of her.

 She gasped for air as he steadied her down to the ground, he had to hold her up, her legs like jello. “I didn’t know you were so flexible love.”H e leaned in kissing her forehead. “That was just the appetizer,love. You’ll get the main course when we get to the room.” Aria felt the fire ignite again. A sense of wild desire filled her body. She had never craved a man before nor did she want to. but Leo, he was like a Drug, and she was addicted. 

"Aria, wake up Love we will be landing shortly.” Leo gently nudge her. she smirked as she woke up, pulling Leo in for a steamy kiss. He pulled back slightly and grinned “what was that for? Not that I mind.”

“I just had a great dream.” She sighed, still waking up. She wasn’t sure what brought that memory back, maybe it was the fact they were heading to Italy after a few days in Pennsylvania, or maybe it was the fact her sex drive was in high gear lately. The plane landed and the group gathered their luggage. They got separate cars since Aria and Leo would be staying with her parents. Liam,Drake, Maxwell, and Ellie would be staying at a near by hotel. Aria gave the group the address to her parents as they all planned to meet a little later. 

“Keys Rhys.” She demanded. “Since when do you drive love?” He chuckled. “Since were on my turff, and I don’t need gps to get me where I am going. Now, keys.” She held her hand out. Leo reluctantly placed the keys in her hand and got in the car. He was always the one to drive if they were together, this was going to be interesting. Aria effortlessly maneuvered the twist and turns and hills of the back roads, Leo relaxed in the passenger seat, she was a good driver but he preferred to drive. They turned off pulled into a long driveway a large updated farm house sat at the end. “So this is where you grew up?” Leo asked as he took in everything. “Its no palace, But this was home.”

“Its nice, lots of land.” He grinned taking her hand.

 The car rolled to a stop Aria turned to Leo. “My dad may still be bitter about the past. He’s really a softy. But just be prepared.” She warned. Leo cupped her face “I understand, but we are together now and I will do everything in my power to prove to him that I will never hurt you again.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips “ready?” He asked. She nodded. Just as they exited the car the front door to the house flew open. A short brown haired lady who looked exactly like Aria,came running out. “Oh my god, you’re here your really here.” She ran up hugging Aria, she placed her hands on her stomach “look at you. You’re glowing sweetheart.” “I missed you too mom.” Aria chuckled. “Mom this is L..” “Leo, nice to finally meet you.” Her mother cut her off, wrapping Leo in a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you too Mrs Hale.” His voice like velvet. “Oh my god, that voice. No wonder my daughter is obsessed with you. And that face. Whew.” She cooed. 

“Mom!"Aria blushed. "Enough of that Mrs Hale stuff, call me Linda. Come on you two.” She lead them into the house. Aria grabbed Leo’s hand as they walked into the living room. “Spunky.” A tall man, around Leo’s age came rushing out of the kitchen. “JJ.” Aria threw her hands around his neck. “Where are the kids?” She asked. “Out back with pops.” He answered Aria turned to Leo “JJ this is Leo, Leo my older brother John Jr. We call him JJ.” Leo held out his hand to shake it.“Nice to meet you.” JJ grabbed it and smirked. “You too, your’re practically family now, we hug around here.” He pulled Leo in for a hug, patting him on the back. So far so good Aria thought to herself. Her mom went to the sliding glass door calling for her husband. A tall stocky man entered with two young boys in tow. The boys came in hugging Aria. Johnny was 6, and Jacob was 4. “Princess.” A warm smile spread across the mans face. “Daddy.” Aria ran to hug her father.

 “Daddy, I want to to meet Leo, Leo this is my dad John.” Leo extended his hand to John. “Oh yeah, the one who broke my little girls heart and now Knocked her up.” He shook Leo’s hand. “JOHN!” Linda shouted. “Daddy. That was a long time ago. I forgave Leo for that. Now its time you do too.” Aria cooed, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sorry pumpkin, Leo it’s good to finally meet you.” Her father gritted his teeth. They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and Ellies voice bellowing through the house “were heeeeere.” Aria introduced everyone to the group. John approached Liam. “So you’re the king? Such a proud, noble,brave man. I would have been proud to have you as a son in law.” John shook Liam’s hand his eyes never leaving Leo, as his words stung like salt on an open wound. “Well, we need to get going. Ellie and I are taking these guys to a Phillies game. They have never been to a baseball game.” Aria spoke up. They said their goodbyes and headed out. 

Once they arrived at citizens bank park the found their seats and sat down. Aria was able to score amazing seats, being a Duchess now, and from the area had its perks. 1st base line, right behind the dugout. “This is amazing, thank you for bringing us here Aria.” Liam smiled. “You’re welcome. You know you can see the field from every part of this place.” She informed. “Well I don’t know about you but, there’s a tony Lukes cheese steak and some crabby fries with my name on it.” Ellie butted in. “Oh god yes, we cant even wait.” Aria rubbed her belly. “Whats a cheese steak?” Drake asked. “Leo chuckled "I have been to Philly a time or two. Trust me you will love it.” “Well some of us haven’t been all over the world pretty boy.” Drake grunted. “Well, I wanna go explore so I’m going with you guys.” Maxwell jumped up.

 Aria, Ellie and Maxwell took off to get food. They ordered the crabby fries first “oh. My. God. These are amazing!” Maxwell looked like a kid in a candy store as he munched on his fries and then he spotted him. In all his fuzzy green glory. “What is that?” Maxwell’s eyes lit up pointing to the furry green alien? Monster?. “That’s the Phanatic babe.” Ellie grinned. “He’s the mascot.” Aria informed him as they watched the Phanatic jump on a 4 wheeler and take off on the field. They grabbed 5 cheese steaks, a few orders of crabby fries and a few beers for everyone but Aria, and made their way back to their seats. Drake eyed his sandwich suspiciously as Liam dug in. “Drake! fis is, you haf to try it.” Liam spoke with his mouth full. “Wow, slow down Li. What would Regina say if she seen you speaking with food in your mouth.” Leo chuckled. “Oh! How rude of me forgive me everyone.” Liam blushed. “Liam, he was just teasing. Here you’re just Liam.” Aria giggled.” You can speak with a mouth full of food and we won’t care.” “Well in that case” Liam bit a huge chuck from his sandwich chewing sloppily. 

They enjoyed a few innings with Aria and Ellie getting into the game. Leo watched her, the way she jumped up and cheered when a home run was hit. They were having a great time, and then the Phanatic jumped up on the dugout. Thrusting his big belly and dancing, pointing to members in the crowd to copy him. Maxwell jumped up a determined gleam in his eye. “Hey, you Phanatic. Watch this” he hollered gaining the Phanatics attention as he busted out a few moves. The Phanatic shook his head bewildered and twirled around throwing his hands in the air, as he jumped into the stands heading straight for Maxwell. He pushed on Maxwells chest, tossing his hands about shaking his head like he was talking smack. Maxwell stood his ground “oh yeah? How about it Phanatic you and me, Dance off!” The Phanatic stopped instantly whipping bis head to Maxwell, stepping back as he shook his head in agreement. Maxwell was taken to the field, his face plastered on the Jumbotron. The Phanatic started moving his feet and swaying his body to the beat of the music pointing to Maxwell to take his turn. Maxwell started moving his feet, popping his arms, shoulders and body, gaining cheers from the crowd. The Phanatic threw his hands up in the air throwing himself on the ground into the worm. Maxwell laughed hysterically as he pop, locked and dropped into the worm before spinning on his head ending with a side ways pose. The crowed erupted in cheers as the Phanatic waved his hands to Maxwell, bowing down admitting defeat. Maxwell was given a free Phillies shirt and hat and sent back to his seat. “That was awesome Maxwell.” The group cheered as he sat down. “Tell me you got that petunia?” Maxwell turned to Ellie. “Of course babe, already uploaded to you tube.” She grinned. The rest of the game flew by, the Phillies won and Aria and Leo headed back to her parents, while their friends went to the hotel.

 “So your dad hates me.” Leo broke the silence that had settled over the car. “He doesn’t have you, he just.. hes guarded. He came and got me from Paris, he seen everything I went through after, well you know.” Aria tried to beat around the bush. “I know, and I am so sorry love. I wish-” “No! It’s in the past. One thing I know about my dad is he can hold a grudge, but if someone owns up to their mistakes, it goes a long way with him.” She squeezed his hand. 

Once they arrived back at the house they took their luggage inside since they never got around to doing so. Her parents were already in bed for the evening so Aria took Leo up to her old room. “Don’t laugh.” She said as she opened the door and flicked on the light. The room was a light purple, with trophies and metals, and various other awards all over. Photos of Ellie and Aria hung and framed. “Over achiever?” Leo joked. “You get a trophy for participating here in America.” She laughed. He walked around reading the different sports and events of the awards. “Baseball, softball, cheer leading, dance, Singing..” 

 “ok, ok that’s enough. How about I show you where the bathroom is so you don’t get lost and wander into my parents room in the middle of the night.” She giggled. Once they settled into bed Aria began running her fingers up Leos arm. “What are you doing love?” Leo murmered half asleep. “Well, I thought maybe you could put me to bed properly.” She cooed. Leo propped himself up on one arm looking at her. “Baby, you know I am always down for fucking you sensless. But we are at your parents house, and you don’t know how to be quiet. Plus, I am trying to get on your fathers good side.” He pleaded with her, it took everything in him not to take her right there. “You’re right. I do want you two to get along. I love you Leo.” She kissed him softly. “I love you too Aria. Now get some sleep, tomorrow is a big day, we find out what we are having.”

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[mintyvan]

B I T T E N  /  P A R T  T W O 

synopsis of the B I T T E N series When Ava wakes up, she’s stuck in the 18th century with strangers who can do even stranger things, and no recollection of her past life. As she learns to cope with what, and who, now surrounds her, she realizes there’s one thing so much bigger than the battle between life and death: love.

filling the requests “more bondy please!” + “you’re interested in both van and bondy” +  “you’re mad at bondy for whatever reason and how he would react, maybe you guys had a fight or something.” Changed the last one up a bit to fit the story - hope you don’t mind. If it’s not what you had in mind, message me and we can work something else out! x

warnings Mentions of lowkey kidnapping, swearing. Mentions of daddy, but I’m sure y’all are filthy enough to enjoy my jokes.

[read part 1 here]

_______________________________________________________________________

When Maise dressed Ava the next day, she did the same steps meticulously again: shift dress, petticoat, corset, pockets, petticoat, silk kerchief, gown petticoat, front panel, gown, apron. This time, the gown itself was a robin’s egg blue. And with nowhere for Ava to rush off to, Maise took her time, although she always worked with a fastidious hand. Ava looked around her room with wonder once again, the feeling not settling in yet that this was to be her permanent residence until further notice.

“Anywhere you want to go today, Miss?” Maise asked, dark hairs falling from her tidy bun onto her forehead as she bent to secure Ava’s shoes.

“You mean I can leave the house?”

“‘Course you can. You’d probably want to check with your master first, but --”

“My master?”

A knock at the door sounded just as Maise was affixing the final piece, the white embroidered cloth, to the crown of Ava’s head.

“Well that’ll be him now!” Maise exclaimed, more chipper than Ava could say for herself, whose mind was reeling with the words Maise had spoken.

Maise drifted to open the door, and Bondy’s fist was closed and mid-knock when she opened it.

“Hello love,” Bondy smiled at Ava, white pointy teeth evident against his cherry red lips. “Care for a house tour?”

Bondy led Ava down the hall, around the grand staircase, and into the dining room. He spoke confidently the whole way, as if he’d recited the stories he was telling her hundreds of times. She didn’t think he had, but his confidence was alluring nonetheless.

“This entire house was rebuilt by myself and a team of contractors after it burnt down in 1732. As Maise probably told you, she and her entire family of seven, mom, dad, brothers, sisters, everyone, died in the fire. For some reason, she and her brother are the only ones who attained ghost status. We’re still not sure why that is,” Bondy said thoughtfully, and paced through the door to the old-fashioned kitchen.

“Is that why you set the table for seven?” Ava called to him.

He poked his head through the doorway to the kitchen and laughed. “Partly for that, partly because seven of us now live here in the manor, and partly because it’s Van’s favorite number and he won’t have the table set any other way.”

“That’s a little…. strange… don’t you think?” Ava remarked.

“I’ve been telling him for years.” Bondy smiled down at Ava, who happily returned the smile. She was finding that Bondy was easy to get along with. When he popped back through the doorway, she followed, eager to hear more about the old house she now lived in.

“Here’s the kitchen. Lovely little space. Antique! We don’t use it much, except for when Jack cooks meals for us, like he did last night. Thankful the bugger didn’t lose his skills in death.”

“A helpful poltergeist?”

Bondy snorted. “I like you.” He switched his gaze back to the kitchen. “In this cupboard you’ll find some snacks to eat. It’s full of all kinds of foods, from all different places of the world. But don’t eat anything from a jar. Seriously. My friend Lou likes to fuck with the jams.”

Ava walked around, picking foreign utensils up and surveying the rest of the area as Bondy waited for her to finish perusing.

“This is a special room,” Bondy said softly, knocking his knuckles absentmindedly against the aged wood door. He looked about the rest of the kitchen and its old wrought iron fixtures, and settled his eyes on Ava. “You aren’t allowed to go in here yet, but you will someday.”

“What is it?”

“The cellar. It’s where we keep our….. valuables.”

“Oh.” Ava’s mouth watered at the thought of what kinds of treasure could lie beneath the old house.

“It was the only part of the original house that remained. It’s enchanted by us, but originally it held a large store of energy for the owners. Want to hear my two cents? Maise and her brother were the only ones who became ghosts. But they were also the only two who were unfortunately locked in the cellar at the time of the fire.”

Ava’s heart dropped as her eyes stared beyond the cellar door. Maise and Jack died in that room beneath the earth.

“Don’t get too morbid on her first day, christ,” a short, squat man said as he walked through the kitchen doorway and grabbed a roll of bread from the reed basket on the countertop, ignoring Ava’s surprised sqeak and jump at the sound of someone behind her.

“Larry, lad, let me do my thing, I’ve got to set the scene for her,” Bondy joked.

“You don’t think the scene’s already set? She’s livin’ in a junky old prepster’s house with a bunch of freaks three hundred years before she’s even s’posed to be alive. It’s dark literally everywhere and she knows we bite.”

Ava gulped, and spoke up. “He’s kind of right.”

Larry looked at Bondy with an I-told-you-so smirk, and walked back out to who-knows-where with his bread, gone as quickly as he’d came.

“So that was Larry. I guess I’d better show you the rest of the house, and then we can get going? I’ve got to run a few errands in town. You can come if you’d like,” Bondy stated, chewing on his lip afterward in waiting for an answer. Ava noticed he gave her a choice this time. Perhaps speaking her mind in this household didn’t come with repercussions. In this state, Bondy looked almost… endearing.

“I like the sound of that,” she said, and gave him a bashful smile.

After they ascended the grand staircase to the floor Ava’s room was on, and as she stood panting at the top in all her layers of clothing, Bondy chuckled.

“Whew. That was a lot of stairs,” Ava huffed, wiping the sweat from her brow. “How did I get up those so quickly yesterday?”

“Technically, we just went up two flights of stairs in one. We’re on the third floor now. Oh, and you might notice your strength ebbing and flowing while you’re here. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

Ava trudged after Bondy, the buckled boots starting to rub the backs of her sweaty feet. She was so focused on the floor and her steps that when Bondy stopped to unlock a door at one end of the hall, she smacked right into his back.

“Sorry!” she said, stepping back, cheeks reddening. He shook his head with a fond grin, and twisted the key in the lock.

Bondy’s room was the most lavish room she’d ever seen. Once, she’d been on a school trip to Versailles, and she’d caught tiny glimpses of the king’s quarters behind red velvet ropes and security guards. This time, she was living the reality, and up close.

Gold.

It adorned the ceilings, the chairs, the chaise lounge, the chandelier, even the clock had gold leaf accenting. She’d seen Rococo in paintings before --- that bright cobalt paired with white trim and gold, gold, everywhere --- but she realized now why the royals took to it so easily. Everything gleamed. Astonished, her eyes feasted on the sight before her.

“There’s no way this is real,” she said, full of awe, mouth agape as she swirled around in place, skirts swishing beneath her.

“Did you expect anything less?” he asked quietly, watching her reaction. His low voice resonated across the smooth floors.

“I don’t know you that well, but… I guess not.”

Bondy winked, and opened the door to his actual bedroom. The fireplace near his bed was marbled, his bed frame was gilded, the furniture still covered in gold, and a literal suit of armor complete with chain metal was stood proudly in the corner.

Ava pointed at it expectantly.

“What can I say? I’m a collector,” he laughed.

“Uh-huh,” Ava snickered, eyebrows rising. She followed Bondy back out into the hallway from which they’d come.

“As you can see, the hallway wraps around in a square. Can’t ever get lost. You, Bob, Benji, and myself have the corner rooms. Van’s situated in between you an’ me, Larry’s situated in between me an’ Bob. There are four other empty rooms in the house that we use for storage, and stuff. Although this is the fullest this house has ever been, since the original owners had it.”

Ava knew the house was big, but ten rooms? Who could ever need a house that big? And for what purpose? Her thoughts raced as Bondy filled her in on unimportant mechanics -- “and here’s the guest bathroom” -- and she remembered Van’s room was next to hers. It must have been easy for him to deliver the letter last night. Her heart swelled.

“That’s about it,” Bondy said, snapping Ava out of her thoughts. “Want to go into town?”

******

The walk down the impossibly narrow cobblestone streets, wherein only three to four of Ava dressed up in skirts could walk arm in arm, was troublesome. Ava wasn’t getting used to her boots, and needed to walk slower than she usually did. Not that she remembered how she walked before she woke up in a different century; she could just feel that it was dissimilar. The change in her comfort led to a change in her attitude, and topic of conversation.

“Earlier today Maise told me that you’re my master,” she questioned Bondy, trying to walk dignified next to him as they passed citizens of 1739 France on the roads. She could tell they were dressed much less lavishly than she and Bondy were.

“So it would seem,” he replied casually, eyes squinting in the sunlight, looking for something.

“But why? Stop speaking ambiguously. I want to know why I’m here,” Ava huffed, kicking a loose stone across the street, which earned her looks from passersby.

“I bit you.”

“Yeah, got that part down. The marks in my neck? Pretty deep, I’d say. Vampire bite? It’s the latest trend,” she replied snarkily.

“Blix.”

“Okay, blix, whatever. So what’s going on? Does that just make me your slave? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bondy guffawed, head cast up to the sky in laughter. The sound made her cheeks burn in the best way. He turned to Ava, and smiled. “Here’s some terminology for ya. Because I bit you, I’m your sire. You’re sired to me forever by my bite. Maise uses the word master. But she’s the maid. It’s just…. different dynamics as a whole. And by the way,” he stopped to tap on Ava’s nose. “The reason that we’re here in the first place: we’re looking for a shop called Violet’s Dresser. Help me find it, lassy.”

*****

The shop was quaint, to say the least. Vintage knick knacks of all kinds littered the shelves, but in a classy sort of way that made you understand that if you broke it, you bought it. And the price wouldn’t be pretty.

“Violet, I’m the one who sent a telegram the other day,” Bondy spoke at the counter to the large woman in a giant feather hat. “I’m here for a fitting for my fiancee, Ava.”

Ava’s eyes bugged out of her head, but Bondy gave her a sharp Just go along with it! look. She supposed he had to do things this way. After all, it was 18th century Paris. Why else would a dashing young man be buying exuberant gowns? Certainly not because he’s keeping a girl he bit on the neck, captive.

Violet circled the counter and disappeared through a set of heavy curtains.

“Come into the dressing lounge, you darling thing. You’ve got a certain je ne ses quoi about you, you know that?” the rounded dressmaker whooped from the other room. Bondy nudged Ava to go on with an encouraging look.

Once she parted the aptly violet curtains into the dressing lounge, she came face to face with a team of seamstresses. They immediately stripped her of each layer down to her corset, petticoat, and cotton shift.

“Little Johnny’s spoken nonstop of you since he knew you’d be arriving. How long have you been here, dear?” the dressmaker asked huskily. She pulled a velvet dress bag from a hook and untied the gold ribbon holding the bag closed. The seamstresses worked to pull the new garments over Ava’s head quickly.

“Uh, just two days so far,” Ava stuttered. She hoped for her sake that answer would line up with Bondy’s story. The approving harrumph she received from the dressmaker made her sigh in relief.

The seamstresses worked in tandem, suiting Ava up in a whole new outfit; the petticoats for this gown were of the finest white linen. The gown itself was a brilliant crimson silk encrusted with thousands of jewels on the bodice. The apron was gold, along with an underlying petticoat. Ava had never tried on anything more glitzy. Or expensive.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Violet asked her. She nodded her head up and down, mouth gawking at the sight in the mirror.

“What’s this gown for?” Ava asked the dressmaker.

“You’ll soon find out,” she smirked, and lit a cigarette.

“Okay then,” Ava muttered under her breath.

“I’m sure Johnny’s loving the attention he’s getting from you, sweety. He was a lonely young man before he met you. Never smiled. Now look at him!” she poked her cane through the curtains and parted them slightly so Ava and she could peek through.

“He does look happy,” Ava replied, watching Bondy look around the room of knick knacks with an inkling of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, but he looked content.

The curtains fell back into place, and Violet snapped her fingers. The seamstresses began undressing Ava as quickly as they’d dressed her.

“Surprisingly enough, he got her measurements perfectly correct,” the seamstress whispered to Violet.

“And that’s a man who loves his woman,” Violet howled with laughter. Ava’s cheeks flushed unintentionally.

Redressed and out in the main shop, Ava couldn’t meet Bondy’s eyes.

“Fits like a dream!” Violet stated, and Bondy stepped toward the counter to pay for it. One of the seamstresses brought out the large box, and Violet stamped it with the address of the manor.

“Delivery by tonight,” she winked at Ava, and went to put Bondy’s money away. “Threw in a little something extra for ya, doll!”

*****

“So what you’re saying is,” Ava clarified as she followed Bondy’s footfalls through the cobbled streets, “is that I’m something called sired to you? And that means we’re forever bound together by that energy?”

“Exactly.”

“But why’d you bite me?” she inquired.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well obviously I’m not leaving for a while.”

Bondy pivoted on his heel and stopped her from walking forward any farther. He took both Ava’s hands in his, and the serious gesture took her by surprise. She looked into his baby blue eyes and shivered.

“Usually when a blix bites, for sire purposes… well…” He trailed off, unable to continue. His eyes searched Ava’s. “Let me explain it to you this way. When a wolf sires a cub, it means it’s the cub’s father.”

“Bondy, I am not calling you Daddy.”

“Let me finish! Christ, you’re hilarious,” Bondy snickered, not letting the crude joke go unnoticed. “Like I was saying… when a blix bites and doesn’t kill, it’s a forever bond. You… change. And our bond ties us together forever.”

Ava stood flabbergasted. “Wait, are we ---? Am I actually going to become one of you? Like in the movies?” she trailed off in shock. Her hands began to shake.

“Ava, look. It’s already started. Your eyes are the color of your dress.”

Ava looked down at the blue of her dress, and drew in a deep breath. She saw a shallow well near a cart of flowers and raced to look at her reflection.

“Ava, wait --” he called out behind her.

Despite the ruddy water, and the ripples from the wind, she could still see herself looking down into the water. As she peered closer, she saw it: chocolate brown had brightened to a striking icy blue. The same color the others in the manor had. Her breath hitched. Bondy’s footsteps stopped a ways away from her.

There hadn’t been any confirmation of their existence as monsters yet. Yesterday the bite on her neck was almost funny. It didn’t hurt. It was a joke. Maise concealed it before they went out in the street today. In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping this was a twisted dream. The reality hadn’t set in yet. It couldn’t.

But there she was. Changed. Concretely. Blue-eyed.

Her face looked wrong. And she hated it.

She touched her cheeks beneath her eyes and hated them. She stared deep into her foreign eyes. She couldn’t look away. She was disgusted.

“I’m really changing,” she whispered. A sob caught in her throat. “I--”

She felt herself losing control. Her thoughts raced blindly behind her eyes, and her mouth dropped farther and farther open.

I’m a lectoblix.

A monster.

I kill people to stay alive.

I’m living in a house full of monsters who can kill me.

I’m changing.

I’m stuck with a monster for the rest of my life.

I’m stuck being a monster for the rest of my life.

I don’t even know who I was.

They changed me.

And now I’m changing again.

Her mind went blank with panic.

She sat there, on the edge of the well, for too long, soaking the edge of her skirts in the water, not caring about the water damage to the blue silk. She numbly watched the way her silent tears shimmered against the new blue of her eyes, and down her cheeks, tracking through the powder Maise applied earlier. It was all too real now.

Motion behind her made her turn slightly, like a caged animal. But she didn’t care enough to turn all the way around. Her body was numb. No turning back.

A bouquet of red roses was placed by her knees resting on the edge of the well.

Only then did she turn fully. And there he was, standing in shame with a receipt from the flower cart.

“I made a mistake,” Bondy’s face crinkled, with enough frustration to shatter Ava all over again. “Fuck. I’ll take you home.”

******

Ava sat in her room, alone, writing on the expensive stationery supplied in her desk. Shortly after they’d come home, and Bob had seen her waterlogged skirts and tear-tracked cheeks and pulled Bondy aside, calling for Maise.

Ava had been taken upstairs, flowers placed in a vase, and bathed in steaming hot water until it was cold. Now, she sat, pen in hand, wondering how to begin.

I am Ava.

She wrote. She couldn’t remember her last name.

“Ooh!” she exclaimed, and put the pen to the paper once more.

I like to dance. I like cheese pizza. 

I can’t remember any of my family. Or do I even have one? Every time I try to remember something, it’s like a wall is put up. 

She sat, pensieve.

I tried on a red dress today. It was incredibly beautiful. It was like wearing the Crown Jewels, but on my body. The dress is supposed to arrive tonight. Bondy paid for it. I don’t know why he’s spending all of his money on me.

She scrunched up her nose as she remembered the rest of the afternoon.

“Ava! There’s a package for you downstairs!” Maise’s voice called from the walls of the mansion. Ava liked that her voice could travel without her having to materialize in front of her.  She put her pen to the paper once more.

But Bondy and Van are of similar kind. They can’t be too bad... right?

Ava slipped her silk robe on over her shift dress and tied it tightly. The house was cold; she’d have to make her trip downstairs quick.

Jack was already halfway up the stairs with the large box by the time Ava reached the landing.

“Thanks, Jack,” she said happily, and he followed her into her room, placing the box on her bed. He pretended to tip his nonexistent hat and exited.

Ava removed the top of the box, and sighed. The crimson dress was folded impeccably neatly inside. She caressed her hand over it, and decided to lie it flat on the bed. She read the card inside:

To Ava soon-to-be-Bond

From Violet

Hope you enjoy this dress, babydoll! You’re worth every penny it cost him.

P.S. - Wasn’t joking about the surprise.

Ava rummaged through the fluff and tulle of the box, and her hand hit something silky soft, yet hard. She pulled out the garment and gasped.

A crimson red corset, matching the dress, stitched with intertwined gold and black thread. Ava held it up in front of her face, and said, “Oh, baby. That’s hot.”

A low whistle coming from the hall interrupted her admiration for the thing, and she quickly stuffed it back into the box before the offender could see any more of it. Her heart pounded as she realized who was there.

Van stood with a shit-eating grin on his face: guilty, but nevertheless pleased. Ava’s stomach pulled again, and she tried to play it cool.

“Where ya goin’ with that thing?” he laughed, leaning into the door jamb, as casual as ever.

“I have no idea,” Ava whispered, not believing she just pulled that out of the box. In front of him.

“It’s right gorgeous, I say,” he said, resting his hands in his pockets. “You should wear it some time for the lucky fellow.” Ava’s heart quickened, her cheeks beet red.

Van was wearing 21st century clothes: black leather jacket and black denim. “Anyways - came to tell ya we have a meeting at nine. Meet us on the second story. You can dress normally. We’ve enchanted the place for the night with a distractor spell so no stragglers’ll come and ruin it all for us.”

“How do you get to the second story?” Ava said just as he was about to usurp himself from the comfort of the door jamb.

“Oh. Bond didn’t show ya the best parts on the house tour I see? Hmm. I can walk you there? Meet us here at 8:55,” he smiled happily.

“Sounds good.”  

“Okay.” He drug out the O sound, and the short kay! echoed down the hall with him.

******

“What is this place?” she asked Van as they tucked themselves down a secret door under the staircase; it hid behind a painting of Louis the Beloved. Ava knew it wasn’t classified as sneaking around when she had a destination, but it was new, and fun, and she was exploring.

“The second floor, love.” Ava’s heart fluttered at the sound of that.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you ran an operation,” she chuckled.

“I’m a simple guy,” Van said, tongue between his teeth in jest. “I mean what I say.”

“Good to know,” Ava flirted back. She couldn’t help it. She felt that she and Van had clicked from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other.

“Van, how do you know where you’re going? It’s pitch black,” Ava noted. She was able to ascend the flight of stairs before the painting swung shut, but now the halls were swathed in complete darkness.

“Got that good eyesight. Blix stuff,” he replied. Ava shivered. 

Her hand brushed up against something and immediately felt a piercing shock run through it, searing her hand with burning pain that made her cry out loudly in a harrowing shriek.

“What the fuck was that?” she yelled at Van, clutching her hand. It was hot to the touch. They both stood stock still in the hallway. Ava’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness as adrenaline rushed through her veins, and she saw Van’s eyes mirroring her own in confusion.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, scratching the back of his neck. “Just tried to grab your hand to lead the way.” Ava’s slight panting mixed with Van’s nervous breathing in the narrow space.

“I still can barely see…” she said, voice wavering. “And my hand hurts.”

“Hold on... I want to try something,” he said softly. “If it does it again, just... yell.”

Van reached forward slowly and touched Ava’s hand with the most delicate of caresses. Electricity zinged between their fingers and buzzed in their veins. Ava let out a shaky breath. Van’s touch became harder as he laced Ava’s fingers with his. Their eyes never left each other. Ava could feel Van’s cool breath fanning over her face.

“This is weird,” Ava whispered.

“I know,” he responded in a similar tone. “Glad I didn’t shock you again.”

“Why did that happen?” Ava looked up at him, desperate for answers, desperate to feel the reverb of his voice resonate through her body again. It was..... good.

“Guess since you’re sired to Bond, no one else gets to touch you,” he whispered. “Let’s go. They’re expecting us.”

[theroseandcrown]

The Rose & Crown: Chapter Six

Rating: M Chapters: 6/24

Summary: The villain-ess we all love has revealed herself to be part of the mystery the Doctor and Clara are trying to solve. But how far does her reach go? The Doctor discovers what Missy has been up to since he last saw her back on Skaro.

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own Fan Fiction WattPad

“Missy,” the Doctor whispered through gritted teeth. He could feel anger building inside of him. He should have been able to sense her presence before yet was too preoccupied with his companion’s unknowingly dark secret to detect her. The last time he saw her was back on Skaro amidst a civil war raging between the living and dead Daleks. She had locked Clara away in the armour of a deceased Dalek and tried to convince him to destroy her. If it weren’t for his intuitiveness of the inner workings of their species and knowing a Dalek would never utter the word ‘mercy,’ Clara would be dead. He had no knowledge of what became of her after he and Clara escaped. He left her behind to fend for herself during the chaos. Knowing her, she probably found some clever way off of the planet. All he did know was that he told her to run and run she had. Even now, as she stood high above him, all the risks he took to save her in the past came rushing into his mind. He realized how stupid he was for falling right into her trap yet again.

“I don’t believe it,” Clara admitted in shock. She would never be able to understand why the Doctor let her escape that day. He and the Master’s history went so deep in time it would take an eternity to grasp what they were to each other. Friends? Foes? As much as she tried to be understanding, his weakness was the hope that one day she would change her ways and be the friends they once were so many years ago. Back when they were just children.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming to my little soirée,” Missy continued, wielding her signature sonic-parasol beside her. “The auction will begin shortly. So until then, keep your panties on. Or don’t! Either way, we’re going to have a bit of fun now, aren’t we?” The crowd shouted their cheers to her as she stood above them like a Goddess, all except for two. Her head turned towards the cheerless guests sulking below her, her eyes connecting with her old friend. A smile peeled over her lips as she descended the stairs, greeting her followers in the crowd with her devious flirtatious behaviour. Approaching the Doctor, her smile widened. “My my my, I knew you could never stay away for very long,” she gloated as his eyes burned with anger. “I have to say, this obsessive infatuation you have with me is rather sexy.”

“I should have known it was you behind all of this. What are you playing at this time, Missy? Are you planning to turn all these people into more Cybermen? Or perhaps you’re in league with the Zygons now. I can never seem to keep up to speed with all of your charming charades.” He held on to his temper as best he could.

“Oh, Doctor,” she pouted her lips. “You’re so predictable when you’re wearing your cross-pants.” She noticed Clara standing next to him. “And Clara, so good to see you again! How’s my girl? Have you been treating my boyfriend well?”

“I’m not your girl. Or did you forget that little bit where you tried to have me killed?” she fumed, resisting the urge to hit her in her evil face.

“Let’s just consider that my way of flirting, dear.” She watched as Clara turned red with hatred. “Whew! It must be absolutely boiling with all these sweaty bodies about. You look a bit flushed. By the way, how are you feeling these days?” she provoked her, looking her up and down.

“Stop playing games,” he interjected. “What’s this auction really all about?”

“Charity, darling,” she teased.

“Charity for whom?”

“Why, for me of course!”

“What could you possibly need all that money for? Planning a holiday somewhere? Off to some hot spot all the kids are talking about these days?” Missy laughed at the old man which only made him more furious. “Oh, you silly little man. There’s more to life than just money. Here we are a trade-way where just about anything can be considered payment.” She glanced at Clara. “Including pets.” She watched Clara’s heated reaction, grinning to herself. “Listen, just between us girls, with a dress like that you don’t have to stick around this frumpy old face. There are plenty of younger men in this room willing to sweep you off your feet faster than you can drop your knickers!”

“What’s with the brain scanners?” he interrupted before Clara could say anything. “Or did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Can’t be too trusting these days.” She reached up to straighten his jacket. He grabbed her wrists harshly to stop her. “Oh, I didn’t realize you liked it rough,” she insinuated, snapping her teeth together provocatively.

“Why did you bring us here before? What are you really after?” He squeezed her wrists tighter.

“Well now, that’s my little secret. You wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise! Besides, I know you better than anyone. You’ve never been able to resist a good mystery.” Before he could say anything more, the sound of bells chimed overhead. The guests sat down their beverages and began to gather like a herd of cattle towards the open doors on the other side of the room. She pulled herself from his grasp and joined the others before turning around towards them once more. “Coming? You wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun now, would you?”

The Doctor and Clara reluctantly followed the crowd hand in hand. He had a horrible feeling coursing through him, but he couldn’t turn back now. Not when they were so close to discovering the truth of why they were there. As they walked through the threshold, their grip on each other’s hands tightened in anticipation of what was to come. They entered like a great flood sweeping over every inch of the room. Whatever this was seemed to be incredibly popular amongst the several species they could see. The room was certainly large enough to house all of the people in attendance. A massive stage stood in front of a double hanging grand curtain as if they were about to watch a play. In the middle of the stage sat a short pillar on display. On one side of the stage was a podium. The seats were arranged in rows with no particular order or reservation. Staying mostly behind, they chose two seats in the back for better observation. He took the opportunity to look around the room for anything out of place while the guests were filling in their seats. Emergency exits on the sides, unmanned and unlocked. Another brain scanner on the ceiling. Nothing that would seem to suggest a trap, yet.

“I don’t get it,” Clara stated, breaking the silence between them. “With all these different species here from all over the galaxy, why have we never heard of this auction going on before? If it were this popular, you’d think someone would’ve mentioned it by now.”

“Yes, it would appear this is the best-kept secret in all the universe,” he agreed. He had been thinking the same thing from the moment they arrived. He watched as Missy made her way to the stage.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, lads and lasses, lords and mistresses!” she began, fluffing her hair at her own recognition. “If you will be kind enough to take your seats, we can get started.” She waited a moment for the guests to settle quietly then reached into her pocket. The Doctor observed closely as she pulled a pair of reading glasses matching the ones he had been given earlier and placed them on her face. “There now, that’s better! I’d like to begin with our very first item this evening. I believe you’ll find no other in the universe quite like it.”

From behind the curtain appeared a beautiful young woman of no more than twenty bearing long auburn hair and sparkling brown eyes who seemed familiar to the Doctor yet he could not recall having ever seen her before. She was dressed in a long-sleeved gown and wearing an identical pair of glasses. She held a brilliantly decorated layered necklace fastened to a blue velvet display in which she placed upon the pillar. The chain was made from a mix of different types of gold. The gems themselves were mostly diamonds ranging in various sizes. The lights reflecting upon the surface of the gemstones embedded into its metallic fixings sparkled in a million different places. Truly an unmistakable work of art.

“Nicknamed ‘The Eyes of the Galaxy,’” she continued, “this piece is amongst the rarest in the universe and was one of two precious items to have been smuggled out of the Halassi vaults during the great raid. The chain is composed of blue and yellow gold mined from the Flidor moon and Jupiter’s orbiting asteroid Voga. The diamonds were mined from several different planets including Arcadia and the reefs of Kataa Flo Ko. Each link was hand-dipped in the golden whirlpools of Catrigan Nova, my personal favourite...”

“Is she serious?” Clara finally spoke, trying to keep the agitation in her voice to a minimum. “Did we really come all this way for a bit of jewellery?”

The Doctor remained silent. He too was in disbelief that nothing had blown up, setting the walls ablaze and trapping everyone in the room. None of the guests were being captured or forced into some kind of slavery which would have been so fitting for someone like Missy, at least the Missy he knew. His mind was in conflict over knowing what she was capable of yet saw no one in distress. No world he had to save from her evil plans. He’d be a fool to believe she wasn’t up to something. So what was he missing? What should he be looking for that no one else could see?

His eyes searched the room for anything representing danger when he noticed something rather odd. The guests were too busy with chatter to realize the young woman who presented the necklace was pulling an object from one of her sleeves. Perfectly sphere-like in shape, it was hardly larger than her hand. But the Doctor recognized it almost immediately, suddenly realizing why he had been sent the mysterious gift. Great fear tore through him. No time to save anyone else, only enough to save her. “Clara!” he called, scrambling to get the pairs of glasses out of his pocket. “Quickly, put these on!”

“What? Why?” she asked, cautiously taking a pair from his hand.

“No questions, just do it! Do as you’re told!” he ordered her.

She hastily did as she was asked as he did the same. Before she could inquire any further into what they were for, a sudden flash of blinding white light engulfed the entire room followed by a deafening silence. They felt themselves shielding their eyes from its intense glow. After a moment, the light simply faded away. When he felt it was safe, he returned his attention towards the front of the room. It was completely quiet, not a sound to be heard. No shifting of the seats, no speaking, no one was moving in any way at all. The entire auditorium was under some sort of trance-like state. All pairs of eyes were fixed towards the orb.

Clara uncovered her face as the Doctor had and observed the guests in their stillness. “The people,” she noted as her fear began to rise inside of her. “They’re all frozen! What happened to them?”

“They’re not frozen. They’ve been put into a comatose state. By that,” he gestured towards the sphere.

“What is it?”

“It’s a Comasphere, nearly impossible to come by. It puts whoever looks into it in a trace. They have no idea anything has happened to them. No knowledge of time passing.”

Before Clara could say anything more, they heard the shrieking cries of something approaching them as if it were moaning in pain. Terrified, she took the Doctor’s hand. Suddenly from all around them appeared the ghost-like creatures from her dream. They passed through the walls and floors from every direction. “Doctor!” she nearly screamed in terror.

“I know, I see them too.” He tried to count exactly how many there were. Dozens at least.

“I saw one in my dream right before you woke me.” They watched the spectres quickly making their way over the crowd of comatose people. Each of them appeared to be searching for something as they began to scan the guests one by one. After a moment, one became fixed on a man in the audience. It lowered itself upon him and placed its ashy fingers upon his temples. The Doctor and Clara observed as the creature let out a horrible shrieking sound then entered the body of the man and disappeared inside of him. “What just happened? Where did it go? What are those things?!”

“They’re called Persuaders. Highly telepathic creatures. They can convince you to do whatever they want you to. But they can only enter a body if that person’s mind is completely open. Which is exactly what the Comasphere does. It opens your mind so you don’t even know what’s happening. The guests can’t see the creatures or even know they’re there. But we can.”

“Why weren’t we affected?”

“The glasses, they must shield the effects of the sphere.”

Before they could determine anything else, the Comasphere began to chime. The Persuaders in the room screamed and disappeared behind the walls and floors from whence they came. On the last chime, the guests began to regain consciousness, talking amongst themselves as if nothing happened. The Doctor and Clara stared in disbelief over what they just witnessed.

“Congratulations on your winnings, Baron von Kinloss of Hedron,” Missy applauded, addressing the man in which the Persuader had entered. “We give our thanks for your generous donation to our cause.” The room filled with the sound of cheers and applause for the gentleman as he nodded in appreciation. “Do be sure to collect your winnings afterwards.”

“What? I didn’t hear him bid anything, did you?” Clara asked.

“No, but whatever he offered was done telepathically by the Persuaders. Missy must share a link with them.”

“What are you saying? That the Persuaders are convincing people to make bets for them?”

“Not for them, for her.” He glared at Missy, the gears in his head turning. What is she after? Do these people have any idea what they are promising her?

“Doctor, we should go,” Clara advised, placing her hand on his. Something didn’t feel right to her, she just couldn’t place it. “Let’s just forget about this memory hunt and get out while we still can. I don’t know what Missy is up to, but I don’t want to stick around any longer to find out.”

He looked into her eyes. At any other time, he would have scoffed at her ridiculous human emotions while embracing whatever challenge may have found its way to him. But she was right. He couldn’t risk putting her and the child in danger any longer. He needed to protect them. This was something he’d have to do on his own. “Okay, we’ll go,” he agreed, taking her hand in his.

“And now we’ve come to the next exciting item this evening,” Missy shouted over the chatter. Two large men entered from the sides of the stage and removed the pillar from the centre. “Get your credits ready for this one, ladies and gents. I hope you’ll find it to be quite the addition to your private collection!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but remain seated as if frozen with curiosity. The large curtains hiding the remaining stage behind it slowly began to slide open. He found himself unable to move. The anticipation awaiting the reveal of what was to come consumed him. The curtains soon parted from each other, fully exposing its wonders concealed behind it. As he and Clara realized what they were looking at, their jaws dropped in utter shock.

It was the TARDIS.