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m1ssunderstanding · 8 months ago

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Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #let it be

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deathbxnny · 6 months ago

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Yayyy, req time babyyy!

Time for another entry into the "Mother of the House of Hearth" series! (Also, since I’ve be sending you all these Arle requests the last couple req periods around, could I go by X Anon?)

Now, I first wanted to say that I loved what you did with my last req. I have had the displeasure of reading of "meh" angst in my long time as a member of the fanfic community, and you are absolutely NOT one of them, you really know how to tug at the heartstrings. You got me in death grip here 🥺.

Now, onto the request itself. The scenario here is going to be much more wholesome.... I hope 🤨

So, following the events of part 2, things have mellowed out. Kids aren't dropping dead left-right-and-center (plenty still return from missions with some gnarly injuries, but so far none have been sent to Celestia because of them), and so to hopefully take her wife's mind off the painful events of the previous months, Arle invites her to come along with to banquet being held by the Tsaritsa. She hesitates, worrying about what could transpire at the House in her absence. But with some encouragement from the children she's eventually convinced to go.

As for events at the party? Well I'll leave those details up to you mostly. One idea I had was Arlecchino stepping away for a moment to grab drinks, and returning just in time to see her wife judo-flipping some nobleman who decided to get a bit too handsy with her (+may or may not have said some things that were VERY disrespectful about Arle and the kids).

(Part one) (Part two) (Part four) (Part five)

Thank you so much for the request and your kind words, dear X Anon!! It means alot to hear that from you, especially as I'm usually very insecure when it comes to my angst writing abilities lmao. With that said, I had a different idea of my own regarding who approaches our dear reader, so I hope you'll like it, X Anon!!<33

Content: Angst ofc, female wife reader, mentions of the past Mother of the Hearth house, vague mentions of child experimentation, Dottore is his own massive warning, alcohol/drinking, threats of violence(?), sfw

Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

Warm red wine with a side of cold ice. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)

"I must say... I didn't expect the Mother of the house of Hearth to grace us with her wonderful presence tonight... Ah, does it bring back memories..."

You say nothing initially, head half buried in your wife's white coat, face flushed from the cold and icy weather of the motherland you worked for. In your left hand, you swirled a glass of red wine elegantly, it's warmth that spread through your body with every sip mellowing out your nerves and exhausted temper. The golden band on your finger glinted in the dim lights of the extravagant party inside the ballroom, one you had attempted to escape by exiting to the grand balconies of the palace alone.

But akin to a shadow that immediately appears in the absence of light blocked by your form, he too found his place next to you slyly. Always the one to wait for the right moment, he now stands next to you with a knowing and cruel smile.

Your somber gaze twitches at his words, but that's the most you'll give him.

"It is... a pleasure to see you again as well, Doctor."

Your words were free from any malice or disdain, yet you refused to look at him as you spoke, a blatant sign that his presence perhaps bothered you after all. His sharp grin widened, his hand reaching out to hold onto the railing as he let out a theatrically deep sigh. "I must say, this... event is quite dreary, no? Certainly not a suitable place for a woman like you." "Do you view me as weak, Doctor?" "Struck a nerve?" You bit your tongue, eyes closing in hopes of him just simply disappearing once you reopened them. But it was futile.

You knew what he was doing, the memory of a long forgotten and pushed away past with you and your wife's deceased "Mother" and her atrocities forever burned in the forefront of your mind. It didn't matter how many years went by. You'll forever remember the screams of your fellow peers, as they were dragged away by the Fatui agents to their assured doom at the Doctors hands.

No one ever spoke of it, perhaps out of fear or disbelief of it being true and them being next. But ultimately... you were all the truth was hard to hide, when the man himself often voiced his irritation to the deal being off to you, the new Mother of the house. One so different from the old one that he fancied a little more.

You took a sip of your wine, attempting to wash away the memories with another wave of warmth, as you lightly cursed your wife's name for bringing you here. Staying home would've been alot more preferable, and usually, you'd do exactly that, never the type to leave your children unattended for long. But after some convincing from your dearest young one's, you now found yourself in this less enjoyable predicament, your wife having been swept away by the crowd of Fatui pioneers and Harbinger colleagues alike.

You couldn't fully blame her, however, not when the monster disguised in human flesh was the main reason for tonight's plight in the first place. You felt sick when you glanced up at him at last.

"Not at all... it was simply a question." You couldn't see his eyes from beyond the mask, but you could imagine the mischievous glint in them. And you knew better to think that he was just here for some small talk. "What is it you want, Doctor? The Knave will be displeased at your presence near me." You manage out, trying to keep your voice steady to hide how uncomfortable you suddenly felt.

"Ah, my apologies, perhaps I should be more forward then?" He leans forward a little, near caging you into the corner you were leaning against in-between the wall and balcony railing. Your fingers gripped your glass of wine, eyes quick to find the moon and icy glaciers in the distance.

"I'd like to reform our past alliance. Surely, you know what I'm speaking of?" "Hardly." "You're a terrible liar, Mother (Y/N)." Your eyes were sharp when they snapped towards him in warning. You hated the way he said your name and title so mockingly. It was as though he was treating you like a foolish little girl that was playing pretend. His request was more like a clear demand in a fight he had already lost. The arrogance would've been amusing, if you didn't feel ill.

"Besides, I don't think you realize the true benefits of it. The children of your house are strong... until they aren't. To which they either end up dead or just, well, useless." He was trying to enrage you, break the perfect walls you have built up over the years, demolish the perfect and new image you had given the title "Mother". And for what? Perhaps some petty revenge against your wife for ruining his fun.

What a child.

"Non of my children are useless." "Oh but that just isn't factually true! And whilst the deaths have been going down over the past few months... I wonder how many are injured and stay injured after a failed mission. They can't perform their duties anymore and then what? They laze around and take up space in your perfect home just like back then-" "-Everyone has value in the house no matter what-" He ignores you, waving his hand dismissively with a grin so wide that it was beginning to unsettle you. But it did little to quell the near blinding rage that burned through you the more he spoke.

"-Not to mention, aren't you running out of space in that little, dreary graveyard of yours? It was truly overcrowded when I visited recently. Ah, the past Knave was alot more thoughtful of her resources... You should be more like her-" The silence that followed the sound of red wine splashing against his white coat and dress shirt was near deafening.

Your eyes were blown wide, filled with frustrated tears despite your better judgment, and your breath came our in labored puffs of air. Your hand shook, the glass nearly slipping out of your fingers. "You... how dare you... I..." You felt faint and sick, the realisation that a man like him had dared to take a step into your children's resting place, feeling like the ultimate slap to the face. And when you stumbled back, weak relief filled you at a familiar hand resting on your hip.

"I think it's time for you to take your leave, Doctor. I will let you live for your transgressions against my wife onlt for the sole reason that I do not wish to cause more of a disturbance than your rather unpleasant existence already has tonight." Arlecchino stood tall and proud in her extravagant suit behind you, her eyes glowing in the dim lights of the moon. The rage in them was scorching, nothing compared to yours, yet it never surfaced, unable to do so due to her rather unique condition and circumstances.

"My, my, what a shame... she has quite the temper. It was all in good fun, you know?" He chuckled, seemingly having lost all interest in entertaining your suffering already as he calmly walked away. Not even slightly bothered by the wine that dripped down his form.

You said nothing to your wife for a moment, your eyes closing to hide the angry and frustrated tears. "... Whatever he said does not matter. He is simply looking for entertainment... and I'm sorry." Her free hand reached up to push your hair out of your face with that gentle look she always had only for you. Turning around in her hold, you hid your face in her neck, so desperate to cling onto the small dignity you still did have left in hopes of appearing strong for her again. But unbeknownst to you, she also felt disturbed at her lack of quickness when it comes to aiding you. She should've known better than to just leave you alone.

"Can we go home? I want to go back to my children, Peruere. Even if Lyney is in charge... He's still too young..." As always, you chose to just retain your pride after a moment of solace in her arms and forget what happened. You stood straighter again, your usual somber look filled with elegance and grace she always admired.

Her eyes found your empty wine glass with amusement. "No more wine then?" She asked as she led you back into the palace to take your leave. Your nose wrinkled at her poor attempt at a joke, yet the weak and exhausted ghost of a smile still reached your lips. Shaking your head, you leaned your head against her shoulder as you walked, uncaring of the looks you got, hands tightly intertwined under the lavish furr of your coats.

"No... No more wine."

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlechinno genshin #genshin arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #alrecchino #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino

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thelilylav · 8 months ago

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Y'know what? Fuck it (gives u guys a list of poc artists to listen to cause the white ppl on the music side of tumblr have been embarassing me)

List is under the cut, and warning bc I made it very long

Rock:

Los Abuelos De La Nada

Gesu No Kiwami Otobe

Chuck Berry

Ben E. King

Los Prisoneros

Ahmed Fakroun (ok this one's french art rock but in my book it still counts)

Burnout Syndromes (been fucking w them since I got into Haikyuu lmao)

Infinity Song (their hater song genuinely gets me every time LMAO)

People in the Box

N.E.R.D (my god if u don't know them.. idk dude my brother has been obsessed w them for forever so i just was not getting away regardless lol)

Punk/Punk Rock (& other punk subgenres):

Nova Twins (u must listen to them it's just the way it's gotta be guys)

Rina Sawayama (her hatred of Matty Healy is so attractive. i cannot believe i found her two years ago cause i still remember i would not shut up when i first heard her music it was so good)

BABYMETAL (the way their band name just straight up screams at people gets me every time lmaooo)

Indie:

The Younger Lovers

Mashrou Leila

Stella Jang

Shak SYrn (Jenni is on repeat in my room at any given moment)

Steve Lacy (if u listen to more than just Bad Habit u will find an actuall amazing discography)

Jenny Nuo (i have been OBSESSED w her music since like 2021 ish and it is a crime she hasn't blown up more imo)

Nujabes

Hemlocke Springs (oooo i hate that she does not get more love!!! synth pop and alt indie is such a fun niche like!!!)

Lyn Lapid (in my head she's huge but i have recently learned that artists i think r super popular may be unknown to an entire genre of ppl soo)

Megagonefree (found them on ig and omg!! PLS go check them out genuinely)

boa (i am once again shaming u if u don't know them)

Wallice

JAZZ (in all caps bc I fucking LOVE jazz no it's not dead go listen to jazz rn motherfuckers):

Idris Muhammad

Esperanza Spalding

Joanna Wang (ok she does pop and folk music too but idk she felt most appropriate here)

SAMARA JOY (put. some. respect. on. her. name. i would actually go to war for her i am not kidding. also this is in all caps bc MY MOM GOT TO SEE HER LIVE??? AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHO SHE WAS PLS I WAS SO MAD OMGGG but i've been promised tickets next time so we're good)

Sade (my og one and only)

Funk:

Fadoul

George Clinton (i mean he's just a classic yknow)

Parliament (Give Up the Funk can make me dance like no other i swear)

Stevie Wonder (i mean.. like if we're on the topic of classics anyway then...)

Michael Jackson/The Jackson 5 (moreso his earlier stuff if my memory isn't lying to me.. look it's been a second since i listened to mj IM SORRY i am a busy person ok TT)

R&B:

Valerie June

Maxine Nightingale (if u don't listen to her... how do u have fun? actual question i put her on every time i need to feel happy atp)

Boney. M (technically they're reggae but they also count as R&B so idk.. i'm just putting them here if anyone wants me to move them later i will)

Amahla (Ca Suffit was so good and got me to check out the rest of her music, YOU SHOULD TOO!!)

Mary J Blige (not to judge but like... if u don't know THE queen then idk how to help you tbh)

SZA (wouldn't be a list without her in it tbh. i'm in love w her not even joking abt that)

Kali Uchis (to this day i cannot believe i saw her live i'm truly never getting a better moment than that omggg i have such a big crush on her anyway)

Aupinard (if ever u need to just vibe, this is the man u go to.)

Wejdene (TU PARLES AVEC UNE ANISSA MA MOI J'APPELLE WEJDENE- she's been my day 1 since i was like thirteen i can't even lie)

Annisse (just found out she only has like ~500 listeners on spotify??? apparently i'm one of them tho lmao so yeah go get that number up guys i love her too much for this disrespect)

Sister Sledge

Cheryl Lynn

Reggae:

Daddy Yankee (he's an honourable mention cause i couldn't not lmao)

Skindred (they're a reggae/metal fusion band and i will shut up abt them when i'm dead bc Nobody rewired my brain chemistry!!)

Manu Chao

Toquinho (i was so convinced this man was bossa nova but apparently he is reggae and i need to do some music theory review)

Folk:

Sushi Soucy (oh the things I Deserve to Bleed had me going thru in 2020/2021)

Miriam Makeba (Pata Pata should be enough to get anyone listening to her, just saying)

Lead Belly (do urself a favour and do some research on this man, i'm not kidding even if u don't like folk music u should know abt him- ESPECIALLY if u like Nirvana that'll make sense later trust)

Pop:

Corinne Bailey Rae (she has so much good music that gets ignored bc of Put Your Records On so.. yeah go listen to Black Rainbows she's only gotten better as time goes on lol)

Dru (he is for any person who likes ke$ha. i'm so serious he is early 2000s in a bottle and i love his music ur rlly missing out if u ignore him)

Monique Hasbun (found her recently! she's a Palestinian, Mexican and Salvadorian artist who plays around with Latin pop and does a lot of fusion music. she's dope go listen to her fr)

Mohammad Assaf (he made the Palestine song that's been going around ig a lot, but his other stuff is great as well. he's another Palestinian artist, so once again, go check him out!!)

Pinkpanthress (i LOVE her she's so much fun to just vibe to and idk how anyone couldn't have heard of her atp but then again this is the sight that didn't know who drake was so... sigh. go listen to her if u don't already!!)

Aliyah's Interlude (BROOO if u haven't heard of her actually go listen rn i'm so serious she is so good i can'ttttt ok bye)

Veondre (had a collab w Aliyah on It Girl and is gonna be releasing her own music very soon! she's trans too so go give her some love)

Shalco (wasn't sure whether to put him here or in hip hop, but his stuff is very very good either way)

Ado (she's j-pop but it's a form of pop so into the pop category she goes)

Moon (she's got two songs out rn, Moonlight and Seoul City Drift, and both r going on loop in my head at all times)

Jay Chou (call me a basic bitch idc he's good ok)

Atarashii Gakko! (i wouldn't say they're j-pop, but google did, so i'm just going w it lol)

flowerovlove (just trust me on this one)

El Tio Gamboin (Los Gatitos is such a cute song)

Grace Chang (see note for Jay Chou)

King Gnu (for all my j-pop lovers... come get ur man)

Salsa:

Lalo Rodriguez (included this genre specifically so i could mention him)

Adalberto Santiago

Roberto Roena (he's a classic i can't lie)

Hector Lavoe (i think he might be the most popular one in this genre lol)

City Pop (this is its own genre bc i literally did a presentation in high school abt it and i'll be damned if i don't flex my knowledge now):

Mariya Takeuchi

Miki Matsubara (my QUEEN my everything my-)

Anri

Taeko Onuki (one of my most listened to artists last yr for a Reason)

Kaoru Akimoto

Kingo Hamada

Jun Togawa

Bossa Nova:

Joao Gilberto (ooo he gets me every time i fucking love this man)

Elizeth Cardoso

Johnny Alf (forgot this man the first time around my bad BUT he's called the father of bossa nova for a reason so)

Hip Hop:

Flyana Boss (they're sooooo good i actually can't gush enough i have never felt so girlypop listening to music before go listen to them!! found the duo through ig so yeah if u want go follow them on there too to show support)

Lil Uzi Vert (for any emo lovers, go check out his song Werewolf with Bring Me the Horizon it is SO GOOD)

Samyra (she's slowly curing my body dysmorphia lol)

Yame (there's an accent on the e but idk how to do that on tumblr. anyway my ass loves french rap and before him i was stuck with klub des loosers so he saved my faith in the genre i can't even lie)

Lay Bankz (u cannot be chronically online and not have heard Ick yet, but i'm repping her regardless bc SHE'S SO GOOD)

A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie (HEAR ME OUT-)

Kaliii (Area Codes was one of my most listened to songs last year... as it should be tbh)

Miguel (he does R&B too i just first listened to him bc of his collab w J.Cole sooo)

Tyler the Creator (putting him on here just to brag abt getting to see him in concert lmao)

XXXTentacion (he has been mourned and talked abt an insane amount, but he deserves it i'm not even gonna joke on this one. his artistry is insane and he deserves some love if u haven't listened to him yet)

Kendrick Lamar (i mean i've been reblogging stuff abt him enough. Mr. Morale was actually the album that made me start Listening listening to him and i'm honestly glad it was bc that album is still my favourite to this day if i'm being totally honest)

Renaissauce (criminally and i do mean CRIMINALLY underrated)

#ok i'm stopping here bc i'm a little scared that tumblr is gonna crash on me soon #but u guys get the point #if anyone wants an extension of this list w more genres i would be happy to provide btw #this felt so chaotic to make but it was rlly fun to go through my spotify and actually check the artists i listen to #idk sometimes u just have to remind yourself that you do in fact have good music sometimes lol #music #kendrick lamar #tyler the creator #kali uchis #samara joy #music recs #was contractually obligated to make this after seeing how white some ppl's playlists r apparently #and like guys... you've got no excuse if my white ass can find time to appreciate music #plus these artists r all amazing on their own anyway so check them out regardless #also i'm so sorry to my moots for not shutting up abt music lately #apparently i had a lot of feelings abt it that i have not been getting of my chest so #i'll be back to posting the norm soon (although what even is the norm for me lol)

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k-hotchoisan · 1 year ago

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Hi loving you and your writing 💗but right now I am craving for a wooyoung fic based on chase Atlantic "slow down" love u 😘

Coming right up Angel 🩷 and thank you for compliments and the request! I’ve been so bias wrecked by him I wished it’s funny 🫠

Hope you didn’t mind that I sort of cut off the drug usage present in the song because I’m not comfortable with it (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Slow down? Yeah fucking right.

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, backshots, unprotected sex, !mentioned alcohol use (drink responsibly please), cream pies, slight manhandling(?), light bondage, established relationship, slow to fast (LMAO)

Word count: 2K

When Wooyoung’s a little more tipsy than usual, he dances between the scale of going slow or about to rearrange your fucking guts, and it’s a fucking surprise every single time it happens. Not that you were complaining of course. No matter what he does, it just drives you up the wall, just constantly begging for more.

He’s had a few drinks tonight, destressing himself for the weekend after a long week of work. You walk over to him, and take the glass from him, pouting. “You shouldn’t drink so much, Woo”, you scold. Wooyoung doesn’t get mad—why would he get mad if it was you? He smiles at you as his arms snake around your waist as he leans into you, spoiling you with kisses on your clothed waist. You settle the cup on the table, away from his reach. His flushed cheeks already an indication that he’s already getting pretty tipsy. He breathes in his body wash that you use when you stay over, and he loves how it smells on you.

“Hi darling”, he hums as his hands trail past under the dress shirt you’re wearing, tickling your thighs, playing against the band of your panties, tempted to just pull it down, his eye contact never breaking with yours. It sends electricity up your spine. “Could I have you instead?” He asks.

You’re wondering if you should tease him a little and deny him of that request just for the sake of your amusement. Your fingers caress his chin and Wooyoung feels himself shiver in anticipation even though you know he’s going to be the one flipping the tables.

You push his hands off you, which takes Wooyoung back by surprise, and cease any form of physical contact with him, before pushing him back against the sofa, then taking the glass of alcohol to the sink. Wooyoung is left confused and half hard on the couch.

You know he’ll come crawling soon enough, because that’s how you’d always lure him in anyway, especially when he’s in such a state. You take your time to walk into your shared bedroom with him and as expected, he catches up so fucking quick, and it’s always by surprise when his pace catches up with yours. He grabs you by your shoulders in such quick motion, as he kicks the door shut, and you squeal as you fall onto the cold sheets. It tickles your nipples as the cold envelopes you.

Before you could muster the energy to get up and face him, Wooyoung’s weight presses against yours from above, and fuck, his erection is just pressing against your legs.

“Darling, why would you leave me hanging like that? Got my feelings hurt”, he whispers too calmly, sending shivers down your spine.

You turn slightly, giving him a mischievous look. “How would I know if you’re sober enough to consent?”

Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I’m always sober enough to fuck you dumb. I would never drink more than I can take.”

You could barely muster a reply as his hands hike up your thighs and hooks onto the band of your underwear, and he tugs down oh so painfully slow. Once the garment is removed, he pulls it taut, looking at the pretty wet spot you made on the fabric, and he smiles, satisfied as you fight every cell in your body not to turn shy.

“Besides, why the fuck would I want to forget every time we make love? That would be such a waste, wouldn’t it?” Wooyoung continues, his finger tracing the curve of your spine through the thin fabric. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you know he’d could just do about anything to you, and that now the real thing truly begins. He slowly pulls the strap of your dress all the way down to your ankles, and tosses it onto the ground, his gaze tracing every single dip and peak of your body as you take shallow breaths.

Wooyoung has a piece of long fabric that he probably picked up along the way chasing after you, and he props your ass up, not forgetting to give it a light spank, causing you to cry out.

“I won’t let this ass go to waste, baby. I promise.” Wooyoung hums as he soaks his fingers with his spit before giving your clit some attention. Your face buried in the sheets, loving how sensitive it feels as the arousal travels up your body. You feel Wooyoung pull your hands behind your back and the fabric going through it’s rounds on your wrists.

He leans in from behind, kissing the nape of your neck, before he says, “tell me if it hurts okay?” You nod, feeling your cunt already dripping from the anticipation.

He loops the rest of the fabric to your wrist to restrain them—just how he likes it. He stands back, admiring your ass, as well as the way your fluids are leaking out from your hole—and he hasn’t even started yet.

“Fuck. You’re one pretty little slut”, he inhales, taking the sight of you in like that, and that only makes your cunt flutter at the air. Wooyoung smirks before diving right in, licking a stripe, making sure his tongue flicks against your clit, drinking in your juices as well as your moans. His fingers are still slicked up, and he doesn’t waste time to spit into your cunt before pushing in said two fingers.

Your eyes roll back in bliss. Fuck, it feels so good. No matter how many time the both of you did this, it always feels like a whole new experience, something you ended up craving so much because Wooyoung does it so fucking well. The combination of the pads of his fingertips press against your bundle of nerves consistently as his tongue sending pleasure to your clit pulls a knot in your cunt as your cried fills up the room.

Wooyoung laps you up as if he hasn’t tasted you before, taking note of how your walls are clenching against his fingers. “Cumming soon babe?” He asks, and you barely could answer him, only a soft “yes” leaving your lips. He finger fucks you even more, your g-spot sensitivity hiking up exponentially and your cries growing louder.

“Wooyoung, I’m close. So fucking good. I’m gonna cum-“ and his tongue on your clit increases in speed. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm washes over you so intensely, your hole pulsing against Wooyoung’s fingers, some of your arousal leaking out as you cream on his fingers. Wooyoung doesn’t relent—he sucks on your clit until you squeal from the overstimulation as your high dies down. He gives your cunt a wet kiss before wiping his stained fingers on his slacks before pulling them down.

You could barely catch your breath before you feel his cock sticking between your folds. He doesn’t enter just yet, but he’s enjoying how cunt is so fucking wet that he’s slipping his cock past your throbbing cunt. The alcohol is slightly fucking him up as it slowly bleeds into him. He sighs as he pushes inch by inch into you, and his cock only grows harder when he hears you cry out in pleasure as he goes in deeper.

“So fucking tight”, he groans as he bottoms out in you, and more sobs come out from you. He lets his cock stay in you for a couple of seconds or so to let you adjust, before pulling back—and soaking in your groans—and then pounding right back into you.

Your moans and cries are on top of the wet sounds of skin slapping each other echo in the room. Wooyoung grips the fabric restraints as he fucks into you, pulling you closer to him so his cock reaches in deeper. He groans as you clench around him. You’re crying out Wooyoung’s name as if your life depends on it, creaming so much on his cock, as drool seeps past the sides of your lips. Your eyes were so blown out from the pleasure that nothing else seemed to matter anymore.

“Damn, you’re so fucking loud, baby”, Wooyoung grunts as he gently pushes your face into the pillow, muffling your voice. He releases you quickly, and opts to land his hand on your ass, the sound bouncing around the walls. Your body shakes in surprise and your cries get cut short, replaced with a squeal as your hole squeezes against Wooyoung’s dick, causing him to groan again.

He leans back to look at the mess—the way he’s cock is just slipping into your hole as you continue to cream and pulse on it, the squelching sounds only heightening the arousal as he uses his thumb to tug against your hole, admiring the way you take his cock so fucking perfectly. Fuck. He could really do this all day.

Your mind was really getting hazy as the knot tightens in your stomach. Your body now has a mind of its own as your hips push back against Wooyoung, feeling yourself almost bounce on his dick at this point frantically.

“Slow down, princess”, Wooyoung says, as he strokes your sides, and you deduce that this round of alcohol was making him more relaxed than aggressive this round. You wonder how you should push him to start rearranging your guts.

Through half lidded eyes and uneven pants, you manage to taunt, “I’m pretty fucking sure you can do better than that, babe.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. The alcohol is definitely hazing his senses, so he definitely takes it at face value. Sometimes it’s too fucking easy to get him wrapped around your finger. Not to mention, since he’s half drunk already, the fabric he tied around you was getting loose, and he doesn’t notice your hands slowly pulling the ones around your wrist taut to loosen it.

“You could go harder if you wanted to. Why hold back? You know how much you and I like it fucking rough right?”

Something snaps in Wooyoung, and his hands grab your hips and pulls you in. Then one hand on the restraints, and the other pushing your head into the pillow, as he fucks you into the mattress. Star burst in your eyelids as you could barely keep up with his pace of fucking. Your cunt is gonna be so abused and sore by the end of this but fuck, it was always worth it.

“Say that again, princess”, he hisses as his cock drags along your cunt, sending sparks of pleasure all over your body. You don’t bother, because your mind was turning into straight up mush thanks to his fat cock.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it”, you barely cry out, your thighs shaking as your second orgasm —which you barely could even process—hits you hard. Wooyoung’s moans mount an octave as he feels his cock being squeezed so perfectly around you.

“Oh my fucking god. I’m cumming” his voice coming out a lot less deeper, as his load is emptied into your cunt in erratic spurts, and his grip on your ass doesn’t lighten until his balls are emptied. He releases you when he’s feels that he’s fucked out, rubbing your lower back in smooth circles.

Your wrists release from the restraints as it falls onto the bed, and you heave against the now, warm, sheets. Wooyoung decides to be playful and falls onto you, knocking out the breath out of you. He rains kisses down your temples, cheeks and on your neck before quickly getting up to turn you to lie on your back. He then heads to the closet to grab a towel to clean you up despite the exhaustion biting him.

He lies beside you, and pulls you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste every part of your before sleep lulls him down. As he pulls back, he flicks your head delicately.

“Babe, I told you to fucking slow down, didn’t I?”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #smut #ateez fic #Wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #Wooyoung x reader #ateez wooyoung

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ikigaisvt · 1 year ago

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our dawn is hotter than day.

in which you and your boyfriend says i love you for the first time surrounded by his friends.

pairing: jeonghan x reader, seventeen x reader (in a friendship way lmao dw) words: 1.6k content: fluff warnings: talk of drinking (like two times but it's not a main theme), reader sits on jeonghan's lap, reader kisses jeonghan's cheek, they hold hands, jeonghan's tucks reader's hair away from their face, pda ig?, petnames (for reader: angel, baby / for jeonghan: hannie) note: jeonghan's instagram post from a few days ruined me,, he's my bf :( this idea was mostly @homerunhansol so credits to her for this story (and for making me delusional about hannie 🫶) thank you bb! minors can interact with this fic but pls don't follow! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated, pls don't forget

You thought when you would meet Jeonghan’s bandmates – his soulmates if we’re being truthful, that it would be nerve-recking. You thought you would be stuck to your boyfriend’s side, never letting go of his hand and always looking at him only, never meeting anyone’s eyes. No matter how many times he said in a reassuring tone you will be just fine, you didn’t believe him. You knew you were going to be anxious and there was no way around it. At least, you thought you knew.

What you never expected is – as the forever introvert you are, that you would get along with them this well. Since you walked into the place the 13 boys have rented for the weekend, it has been a constant exchange of laughter, smiles, drinks and food. Even the most introverted boys – such as Wonwoo or Soonyoung (who’s the shyest of the band, surprisingly) have opened to you. What you have realized in this little time together is that there is a snippet of Jeonghan in every single one of them. And that makes them feel like home, as if they always were just this much to you.

That’s how you find yourself, enjoying the night away, as it is still young, with 13 boys. You and Booseoksoon, which you have learned are the entertainers of Seventeen, enjoyed the karaoke together, singing at least 5 songs before the eyes of the other boys whom are clearly amused. A few times Chan joins you four to add some humor to the performance - and Seungkwan squeals every time or Jihoon adds some of his beautiful notes into the background. You have spent most of your night away from your boyfriend as he watches you from the couch, smiling and giggling, a beer in hand, at the way you are getting along so well with his favorite people in the world. It truly is a gift to see you this happy with the ones that made him into who he is.

As the night get deeper and colder, you find yourself at the campfire with most of the 13 boys – some of them being too tired to continue the night, to settle down and talk some more. Sat down on Jeonghan’s lap, in one of his comfiest hoodies, you talk and laugh with the boys as they share some of their funniest stories. You think your favorite one so far is about the famous Dokyeom and Seungkwan fight in Jeju.

It’s after almost an hour outside that you feel Jeonghan pulling you closer by the waist, resting his head on your back.

“Angel,” you hear him whisper softly.

“Hm, what is it, Hannie?” you answer quietly, turning around a little to see him look up to you with doe eyes.

"Are you enjoying tonight?" your boyfriend asks you, his eyes shining so much you wonder if the galaxy didn't find a home within him.

"Yeah, I am!" you tell him with a shy smile, knowing he's going to tease you with an I told you so even though it never comes. You see Jeonghan thinking about his next words, the teasing still ever present in his eyes when you hear a voice calling for you.

"Y/N!" Dokyeom says loudly to catch your attention, "Come talk with us!" he adds, sitting next to Seungkwan. You give them a thumbs up before turning around in Jeonghan's embrace, giving him a kiss on the cheek and squeezing his hand.

You spend the next hour or so sat down with Dokyeom and Seungkwan as you talk and laugh as if you knew each other for years. You only look up once or twice to look at your boyfriend, your eyes locking every time. If you were more attentive to him, you'd see how he'd be distracted by you, not being able to hold a conversation with anyone, including Seungcheol. He knew, when he first asked you to meet his members, that it would pull at his heartstrings. Despite all your beliefs, he knew you would fit in just well and they would welcome you with arms wide open.

He never really took the time to think about what it could mean for him. To see his favorite people love each other this much. He was hit with a wave of familiarity at the scene, as if his life always was like this, as if you were always just right by his side. However, what hit him the most at this instant, as he hears your laugh meld with Dokyeom's, was love. For some months he had been thinking of how much he loves you; he felt it mostly when you'd cook his favorite meal for him after he'd tell you practice was hard on this day, he could feel it in the way his heart would miss a beat when your eyes crinkle up in a smile or when you'd cling to his shirt, when he joins you in the middle of the night, making butterflies erupt in his stomach. But the moment he could feel it the most was right now: seeing you be your true self around his own people made him realize he wanted to provide this safe place for you for as long as you wanted him to. If you needed an island to rest on, he will be one for you.

It's after a few minutes, when Dokyeom decides to go to sleep and Seungkwan gets in a chaotic conversation with Chan, that you join him again, finding rest on his lap once more. As you talk lively with Seungcheol, the idea of playing mafia game pops up in the conversation which gets everyone excited.

After 2 mafia games - one won by Jeonghan as a mafia, the other one by the mafias again, which you were a part of, you can feel the sleepiness seeping through your bones. As you and your boyfriend were already eliminated from the current game, you fully let yourself rest against your boyfriend, your head in the crook of his neck, his hands keeping you still at the waist. You feel yourself drowsing off to the sound of Jeonghan's laughter, losing it at some of the boys' competitiveness.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, "do you want to go to bed?"

"No, no," you whimper, shaking your head slightly, "Wanna stay here. With you." you confirm, grabbing his hand tightly.

"Okay, angel." he says in a short chuckle, "But let me know when you want to go, hm?"

"I will, don't worry. Thank you, Hannie." you say sweetly, looking at him. The stars found a home in her eyes, Jeonghan thinks to himself.

"I love you." he says in a mutter, entirely to himself, thinking you're already dozing back to sleep.

Yet, he hears your giggle and feel the smile forming as your cheeks hit the curve of his neck.

"I love you too," you answer, still giggling. "Why are you saying this so suddenly?" you murmur, hiding your head deeper in his neck so no one can see the blush covering your cheeks.

"First of all, I didn't think you'd hear that and-" he says in a pout, as you look up at him, seeing a blush on his face.

"I can't believe the Yoon Jeonghan is blushing." you tease softly as you start to play with his fingers.

"And-" Jeonghan starts again, ignoring your teasing - even though a small smile makes its way on his lips, "I do really love you. Seeing you tonight, with all of them, tugged at my heartstrings." He explains, brushing your hair out of your face, "I felt like you were comfortable around them and it just makes me want to have countless days and nights with all of you. I just realized how I want to be with you forever." he confesses, still looking down at you, your eyes welling up with tears at his words.

"You know, why I felt this comfortable tonight?" you ask, waiting for his answer which comes in a shake of his head, "Because they really feel like you. Not in the I'm-in-love-with-you way- because yeah, I am in love with you, but- I just see parts of you within them. In their actions, in their kindnesses, in their words; that's why I felt so safe. They are people you love," you say as look around to see them still playing mafia game - Mingyu on his knees, begging Seungkwan not to kill him, making you snort, "You all grew up together, you taught each other how to be good people, and you did it pretty well. I don't think there'd be a single soul who would not feel safe with any of you." you tell him, holding his hand, "I was nervous about meeting them all, I wanted them to like me but tonight I realized it would be pretty damn hard to be hated by them-" you chuckle softly, your eyes meeting, "That's why I was so myself tonight."

"They'd never hate you." he whispers, "Not because they are good people - God only knows these idiots can be petty as well," he sneers, all the love in the world showing up in his eyes, "but because they saw how you made me happy, day after day. And that was enough for them to love you. It will always be enough." he tells you, eyes still locked, "Also- I am in love with you too." he adds as Seungkwan screams out in despair for losing while Chan stands up and does a silly dance to celebrate his victory, making you both laugh out loud at their antics. You look up briefly at the sky, seeing the stars still shining bright even though it is becoming brighter as the minutes passes by. I don't think I will be able to sleep anytime soon, you think to yourself as you feel your heart buzz with excitement, your boyfriend pulling you closer by the waist. But after all, as 13 boys once said, our dawn is hotter than day.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it 🫶

#sammy's works #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shot #seventeen fics #seventeen drabble #seventeen reactions #seventeen au #svt fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan one shot #jeonghan fics #jeonghan drabble #jeonghan au

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inneedofsupervision · 5 months ago

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This Thing about Blankets and Second Chances

Summary: Peter gets sick and looks for help at the tower as Aunt May is out of town. Instead of Mr. Stark, only Sam and Bucky are there, and they nurse him back to health, but for some reason, the kid begins acting out of character.

(Read on Ao3)

(Maybe u can guess which prompt this was supposed to be lmao)

"Stark, your intern is the spawn of Satan. He was difficult being sick, but now that he's better, he's the worst."

Tony's amused laugh echoes through the speaker.

Sam's following words sound almost pleading.

"Why is he being so stubborn, Tony? He had been freakishly nice and agreeable before. What did you put into his head?" If the man thought his words were contradicting, hell, they probably contradicted, but Sam couldn't care less.

He needs Stark to listen.

"Eyes on the screen, Feathers, I don't want to talk to your ear. Yeah, that looks almost better."

The man in question looks calm. Too calm, sitting back in the seat of his jet, the first button of his dress shirt opened. Tony takes a sip out of a cheap Iron Man mug. It must have been a present, or it wouldn't find itself anywhere close to the man.

"I didn't do anything," begins Tony, pointedly ignoring the glare. "We just talked, checking that the kid didn't sneak into the lab unsupervised when he's not on top of his game."

"And why does he act like none of what we say matters after being on the phone with you? A few weeks ago, he wouldn't look Bucky in the eye, and now he doesn't move, doing the whole grumpy teenager act."

"I might be the smartest person in this merry band we call a team, but I cannot even cut open his teenage head to get on why the kid does what he does. Call it one of the mysteries of childhood."

It has to be a conspiracy. There is no other explanation for whatever this is. Sam glares at the smug grin on Stark's face. It was like the man's eyes were mocking him.

"See what I have to deal with all the time? Get a taste of your own."

"How do I get him to stop? I don't care if it's the holidays or not. He cannot sleep the whole day. Bucky was about to throw a water bucket at him after pulling him by his ankle but did nothing, and the brat just shot his webbing at him."

Tony takes another sip of coffee, but it's too late. Sam had seen the poorly hidden twitch of the corner of his mouth as he barely suppressed bark-out-loud laughter. Sam takes a deep breath.

"Stark," he begins. He makes sure to talk slowly, like he would to a four-year-old child and not a self-proclaimed billionaire-genius-whatsoever.

"That kid. He wears his webshooters. To bed."

"Oh, does he?" The man doesn't even pretend to be surprised.

"That means he likely didn't get to sleep at all."

Sam's eyelid twitches.

"What?"

Tony takes a glass of water from the tablet held out to him.

"Thanks, Marcy."

He checks his wristwatch, eyebrow rising before glancing back towards the screen.

"He patrolled until 5:43 am. It's the weekend. Let the kid live a little."

When the kid came in asking for Mr. Stark while hacking up a lung, Sam thought it would end with them calling Happy and getting the sick teen chauffeured to his aunt.

"Aunt May is in Malaysia. For the rest of the month. Could I have some water, please?"

Even Bucky's face twisted as he awkwardly rubbed the teen's back, who mumbled the words between dry heaving in the bathroom. It hadn't been pretty. They got Dr. Cho to check him only to tell them that the freaky spider-metabolism lets the kid speedrun through a mean case of the flu. They had contacted Stark, and the man had been adamant at first to fly back instantly, but Pepper had asked them to give her and Tony a minute. The man later said he could not make it and basically threatened them to take care of his mentee. Sam wonders at what point in life he ended up babysitting an enhanced teenager while his mentor was away on some rich people trip.

"Did you forget the part where I told you he had been in bed and sick for the past few days?"

He wipes a hand over his face.

He's too old for this.

Sam also couldn't understand how Stark, out of all people, refrained from going into helicopter parent mode, being hundreds of miles away from his kid and said kid fighting a cold. He had seen the man freak out over papercuts before.

"Don't be rough on him, Wilson, he's sixteen. The kid just crawled out of the crib and took his first steps. Be a little understanding. You won't get him out of bed treating my penthouse like a military camp for troubled youths."

Be a little understanding.

Sam thought he was trippin' hearing these words from no other than Tony Stark, the most eccentric and selfish person going by the man living in a Tower with his name planted on the side.

"That's because you coddle him too much!"

Tony sniffs slightly.

"Are you suggesting I am not taking your call seriously? Because you would be very much right about it."

"Stark-"

Tony glances over his shoulder, a grin breaking over his face before he turns back towards the screen.

"The missus is calling. I will check in later, having a firm chat with the human incarceration of teen rebellion. Don't worry, I'll set the itty bitty troublemaker straight."

"Tony-"

"Don't worry, we will have a stern talking."

There is a twinkle in the man's eyes.

The screen goes dark.

Sam curses.

_________________________________

"The video of Barnes patting the kid's back until he falls asleep like a toddler? I saved, archived, and showed it to my wife. She loves it. It's very domestic and very unlike Barnes. The perfect blackmail material." Clint lolls on the couch, a hand behind his head, eyes gleaming with delight.

"What do you need help with now? If it's about cough-sirup, just put it in some juice and say the weird taste comes with the congested nose. Works like a charm."

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose.

"He's fine now, Clint. Completely back to health."

The archer draws an eyebrow up.

"What's wrong then?"

"He won't get out of bed."

"He won't get out of bed," repeats the other man, lips quirking in unconcealed amusement.

"It doesn't matter what Bucky and I are saying or doing. He stays in bed and demands to sleep. Stark said he was patrolling, so he's bound to be tired. But he cannot sleep the whole day. If he does, he will be awake all night, and I will not deal with the outcome."

"Did anyone tell you you're a hypocrite?"

Sam ignores the jab and walks back to Bucky, who is behind the stove, a concerningly high staple of pancakes next to him that's still growing. Clint follows, leaning on his arms and watching them from across the counter.

"Let me get this straight. The kid comes in on Thursday being all sick and pitiful, and you two," he points at them to clarify he wasn't talking about another duo at the tower housing superheroes, "took care of him. And the kid had been his awkwardly polite self, trying to play it down to not inconvenience you like the self-deprecating little bug he is?"

A hand sneaks towards the pancakes.

"Exactly."

"And now that you two nursed him back to health, he doesn't do what you tell him to? Acting like a tired teenager, whining about being sleepy, going on about the bed being the most amazing place on earth, and not caring what you want?"

"Ouch!" Clint glares at Bucky, who unapologetically pulls the pancakes out of reach, spatula ready for another hit.

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Sometimes I forget you are a father. That's what happened. Any idea how to get him to crawl out of that blanket cocoon?"

The blond straightens up, wiping the grease off his hands with a kitchen towel. Laugh lines are decorating his face.

"No. I have no idea. Good luck, you two."

It caught Bucky's attention, looking up from where he poured another portion of batter into the sizzling pan.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I am sure you two can handle this just fine," answers Clint. He grimaces slightly as his shoulder makes a popping sound while stretching, uttering something about not having enough training before giving the two a small salute.

"See you around. Tell the Spider-Kid I said hi."

"You can tell him yourself," shouts Sam after the blond, who turns around, a big grin on his face.

"I wouldn't want to wake him. He's a growing boy. He needs his "Z's".

Bucky shakes his hand. He's elbowing Sam slightly in the side.

"Let's try talking to him again."

The man pulls the pan off the heat and glances at the clock.

Barton is right. Bucky has become incredibly domestic. Sam observes how the other put the pancakes in the oven to keep them warm. They make their way over to the hallway, determined to end this. It is bad enough that two of their friends got a kick out of it, seeing how they get messed with by a baby-faced teen, leaving them alone to deal with the little devil.

"What about your medicine? Have you taken it?"

Bucky's hands stopped before his knuckles could knock on the door to the teen's room. They hear the shuffling of bedsheets before Peter's voice comes through muted.

"I kinda run out of it?"

"Peter Benjamin Parker, why didn't you say anything?" asks the woman on the other line, sounding exhausted, implying that this must be a topic of many conversations but not without a hint of amusement.

"I honestly forgot, but I haven't been sick in months. I was about to tell Mr. Stark, but with Decathlon and the updates for the suit, it slipped my mind. But I'm completely fine now, I swear!"

"Maybe I should ask Tony if you could stay at the Tower."

A low whining sound emits from behind the door, something they have never heard from the kid before. It was like hearing the personified essence of a protesting teenager. "I can take care of myself, Aunt May. I'm sixteen! I came to the tower when I felt unwell. I even asked for help!"

"And that's the barest minimum of what I expect you to do when you get sick, Peter. Is Tony around? Could you hand him the phone?"

"Sorry, May, he's not here. He's at a conference in France."

There's a short pause from both sides.

"Who took care of you then?"

"Oh right, I haven't told you that. It's just wild! Do you remember Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes?"

"You have mentioned them, yes."

Both men cannot help but grimace at the wary tone. They wonder what the kid has told his aunt about them to cause that reaction. Peter seems unaware of the distaste in his aunt's voice as he cheerily continues chatting away.

"So, I came to the tower feeling kind of under the weather and asked for Mr. Stark, but there were only Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson, who told me Mr. Stark wasn't there. I wanted to call you, but suddenly, I got incredibly queasy, and I ran to the bathroom and lost my lunch. I was so embarrassed getting sick in front of them, but Aunt May. Both of them were super nice about it. Especially Mr. Wilson seemed genuinely worried. They got Dr. Cho to come to the penthouse and look at me. She gave me some medicine against the flu, and it didn't take two days until I was completely better. Oh, and Mr. Barnes even cooked me chicken-and-noddle soup! It was nothing like the soup you make me."

"You know perfectly well that my soup comes out of the can, mister."

"Oops," is all the kid says, the grin carrying over in his voice.

"I'm glad to know Tony has to deal with that side of you too. Everyone should know that my nephew is part-time Spider-Man and part-time gremlin."

The kid honest-to-good cackles, not sounding any bit remorseful.

"But Peter, if those two stop being good to you, promise to let me or Tony know. I feel uncomfortable with you being around someone who had been that indifferent before."

"Don't worry, May. I think both sides needed some time to warm up to each other. I will let one of you know if something happens. I feel way more comfortable around them now, knowing they care, you know? I think it's genuine."

"I'm glad you think so, darling. I wish I could be there for you. Call me if something happens, alright?"

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too, baby. Let me know when Tony's back."

"Yeah. See you soon, May."

"Take care of yourself. See you, Peter."

There is some shuffling before silence settles behind the closed door. The men share a look before Bucky knocks softly against the wood.

"Come in."

Sam raises an eyebrow. It was like they had never left. The kid is still rolled up tightly in the blanket, only a mob of brown hair peeking out between the gray line sheets.

"Friday, what time is it."

"It's 13:37, Mr. Wilson."

"And at what time do teens usually get up at the weekend?"

"According to the latest statistics, teenagers from 12 to 17 years old get up between 9:00 and 11:00 am."

"See, even the super-computer agrees with us, kid. It's time to get up, so move your butt."

The cocoon shifts slightly. A pair of brown, very awake eyes peek out of the opening, squinting at them.

"Friday is an AI, not a super-computer."

"Okay. Alright. The AI said your usual teen should get up between 9:00 and 11:00, and you have already taken it much further than that."

"Well, I'm not your usual teen," comes the quip, as if the kid had waited for it.

"No, you're not. A little shit is what you're are," presses Sam out, muttering to himself as he runs a hand over his head, wondering why he's even arguing about this.

A sound catches his attention.

Glancing at Bucky, seeing the man raising an eyebrow, he knew the other had heard it too.

A giggle.

Soft and breathy, muffled by pressing his face into the blanket, but it had been there, undeniably.

Now it's official.

The kid's messing with them.

Bucky seems to think the same.

"Hey! What are you doing? Let me down!"

In one swift motion, the blanket roll of a teen is scoped from the bed and thrown over a broad shoulder. Curly strands of hair bounce up and down with every step that the teen gets carried further away from his bed, wriggling and protesting on the way. Sam follows with a smirk, having to hand it to the ex-assassin. With the teen tightly wrapped up, he couldn't do much but fight against being picked up and carried like an angry caterpillar. Bucky got a firm grip around the kid's middle, preventing him from getting his arms out of the makeshift cocoon, which turned into a silky spider trap.

Their destination is the living room, where Bucky drops the living cargo on a couch.

"Friday, lock the kid's room until he ate something and washed up."

"I'm pretty sure it's a criminal offense to lock someone out of their room," protests Peter, who robs forward until he is on height with a pillow. Sam squints his eyes at him when the teen snuggles into the couch, eyes closing again.

"Oh no. We didn't bring you here for you to pass out on the couch. Get up, kid."

"Can't hear you am sleeping," mumbled the teen and dared to let out a giant yawn before wriggling, turning his back towards the stunned adults.

The nerves of that kid.

"That's it. I'm calling Tony. You see what you can do."

Sam leaves the room, ready to give the billionaire a piece of his mind, leaving Bucky alone with their troublemaker.

Peter listens, waiting for what the other man would do now. He can hear Bucky's calm heartbeat, his body tensing slightly when steps approach.

"You know," begins the older man, surprising Peter by lifting the blanket alongside his legs to sit down and let his limps fall on his lap."back then, when Steve was younger, he had been a handful. We have lived close to each other. When one of our parents was away, we'd sleep over at the other's house. Then I learned that my best friend could be the grumpiest little punk being tired. And getting sick quickly, he'd been tired often. The surprise when I came back, and suddenly the skinny kid who asked to pick a fight is now getting on everyone's nerves by getting up at 5:00 am and asking people if they wanna 'round the park with him."

"What did you do then?"

"When that punk didn't want to get up?"

"Yeah."

Bucky smirks at the curiosity in the teen's voice.

"I taught him a lesson."

Peter's eyes shoot wide open as something heavy gets thrown over the blanket cocoon, successfully pinning his legs.

"He would hold on to his blanket, refusing to let it go. But there are ways to make him crawl out of that hideout."

While speaking, Bucky shoves a hand into the opening of the blanket roll. His arm vanishes halfway until he finds what he's searching for and begins to pull.

"No!"

The man smirked as he pulled at the teen's ankle until a pair of pale feet stuck out of the cocoon, legs wriggling in an attempt to shuffle back into the safety of the blanket. By pulling at the teen's legs and the latter being too stubborn to let go of the blanket, Peter got pulled into the depth of the blanket-cocoon, the only visible part of the teen his kicking limps.

"No? I thought you were curious?" teases Bucky as he fights to get the kicking feet into a headlock.

"I didn't ask for a demonstration!" comes the muffled protest, followed by a squeak when one of Bucky's fingers accidentally runs over his sole.

"Should have specified what you wanted then," replies the older, glancing down at the successfully caught feet in his grip. Thanks to the unfavorable position of Peter laying on his stomach, having wrapped the blanket tighter than ever around himself during his wriggling, and Bucky throwing one leg over the teen, he has a remarkably secure hold of his legs. Despite his head deep inside the blanket, Bucky's words are loud and clear, sparking a sense of nervousness inside him. Even though his spidey sense doesn't act out, Peter can feel something nearing his vulnerable feet.

"You know what Steve still can't stand?"

Instead of an answer, a high-pitched, muffled screech ejects from within the blanket, followed by frantic wriggling and choked laughter as Bucky begins to worm a finger between the kid's toes, feather-lightly scratching at the skin. A grin forms on the man's face at the very familiar reaction. There hadn't been a second of the day where Peter regretted burying himself in his blanket. Surrounded by the cozy warmth and the familiar scent of fabric softener, there wasn't a place he'd rather be. Not even once, did Peter imagine that his favorite blanket would become his downfall. His wonderful, beloved blanket has revealed itself to be a wicked spider-trap. It's almost scary how a blanket, physics, and one super soldier are enough to leave him flopping around helplessly on the couch like a fish out of water. Under other circumstances, he'd easily tear a way out of the textile, but with his arms pressed close against his body and the blanket tightly wrapped around him like an overgrown Boa Constrictor, getting out was surprisingly though. Oh, and, there was also Bucky, who had a leg thrown over him, effectively pinning him against the couch, but Peter wouldn't have been able to concentrate on getting out anyway, even if he wanted to.

"I've gohohot ihihihit, I-Ihihi've gohoht ihit! Youhu cahan stahahap, okahahay? Pleahase, Buhuhucky!"

He's growing crazy.

Around him is nothing but sheer darkness. He's blind, swallowed, and betrayed by his blanket and at the mercy of whatever Bucky has in stock for him. Peter's toes are curling at the attempt to fend off the fingers, but they are giving chase. When he shakes them off, they merely switch feet to provide the other toes with the same treatment. It's alarming how Bucky knows how to turn him into a pile of squirming limbs, unable to contain his laughter.

"I would say this is even more effective on you than Steve back in the day," comments Bucky with a grin as he lets a single finger glide over Peter's sole. The whole blanket cocoon jumps at the action.

Bucky's grin rivals a Cheshire cat.

"That was something. Might be more sensitive than your toes, huh?"

"NO! It's nohot! Yohuhu're mistahaking, seriously."

"Do I? Your reaction tells me otherwise." As if to underline his words, Bucky strokes his fingers again, slowly and teasingly, down the soles of his feet.

"Stohop it! That's nohohot fuhunny!"

"I'm entertained greatly. But if you're not having fun, we've gotta do something about it."

"Nohohoh, please dohohon't!"

Even Peter knew it would be hard to take him seriously with the sheer quantity of giggles pouring out of him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Bucky looks up, his arms never ceasing their hold around Peter's ankles.

"Though I'd try some reliable methods from back in the days. Till now, it looks promising."

Durning Bucky's answer, Sam glances at the squirming heap of blankets. The head of the kid had vanished. The only part indicating he was still there was the madly kicking legs in his friend's grasp.

"Is that so," he asks, slightly skeptical.

As an answer to his question, a panicked squeal followed by even more panicked struggling echoes through the room as Bucky, without warning, attacks one foot with five wriggling fingers.

Sam's mood improves all of a sudden after being witness to Bucky's little demonstration. Having Stark laughing at him again and telling him that he should just let the teen do what he wants, Sam had been more than done with this. But with the new knowledge and the ability to take some well-deserved renege, Sam's bad temper is history.

"Let me try."

His lip twitched upwards as his words caused the teen below him to try to wriggle out of the blanket with new-found vigor.

"You've got to be pretty ticklish if you're that afraid of what's to come," observes the man, sharing a grin with Bucky.

"He's worse than Steve."

"Am not!" comes the sulky answer as fast as a bullet.

"That so?" teases Sam with a smug grin while sitting down.

"Seeing your reaction, I'm not convinced."

The cocoon stops wriggling for a moment.

"Maybe it's time to get checked by an optician."

Bucky barks out a laugh, earning a glare from his friend.

"I hope you have a tight hold on the little runt," growls Sam, and before Bucky can answer, he dishes out a relentless tickle attack on the teen's helpless feet.

Maybe he shouldn't have provoked Sam.

That's the only thing Peter can think about, apart from one all-consuming thought.

It tickles.

Oh god, how bad it tickles.

"Visit an optician, my ass. What do you call this Buck? Does that look like not ticklish to you?"

Sam found out quickly that light touches got the best reactions. With feather-light touches and

a mean precision, he strokes the tips of his fingers, in quick succession, over the soft skin. Even if they couldn't see his face, the sounds from within the blanket were enough to tell them that Sam works very effectively.

"You could almost think he lied to us," states Bucky dryly, but not without a grin.

"Am nohohohoht lyhihihing!"

"Right. What you're doing doesn't count as lying. You're in denial. Not sure if I know what's worse."

"What doho youhu knohohohow anywahahay?"

"I know you're not in a position to talk big."

Peter had anticipated another attack on his feet. Honestly, he had counted on a lot of things. Getting pulled out of his DIY prison had not been on the list. The surprise is written all over his face as his hand shoots up instinctively to protect his tightly shut eyes from the piercing ceiling lights. His reflex is also his downfall as a pair of hands capture his wrists with ease and promptly hold them over his head. Completely taken out of order by the bright light, the teen reacts belated as a weight settles on top of his legs, pinning him to the couch. The lights dim as Friday seems to have caught onto his trouble opening his eyes, and it takes a few moments before he dares open his eyes again.

"Well, where were we?" asks Sam, cracking his knuckles.

"The kid said you should get your eyes checked."

Sam squints at Bucky before directing his eyes down to Peter, pointing a finger at his chest.

"See what you did? Now I'm going to hear about this for the next weeks."

The kid dared to chuckle. Sam was sure he didn't imagine it. The kid was even making fun of him in this situation. How did it come to this level of disrespect? He raises an eyebrow at the teen, which causes the exact opposite of what he had in mind. The teen fought a grin.

"Are you laughing at me?"

Peter's eyes are twinkling with mischief.

"There is that optician shop right around the corner. I know the manager from one of my patrols. Her name is Patrisha, and she's super nice. I could put in a woHOHORD FOHOR YOUHUHUU! NO, STAHAP IHIHIT!"

"Stop?" asks Sam, whose fingers have found a way under the teen's sleeping shirt and whose thumbs are kneading into the sensitive side of Peter's stomach. "After everything you just said, you little gremlin?"

Peter pulled and tore on his arms, but Bucky's hold didn't budge an inch. His upper body lay helplessly exposed to Sam's attacks. Sam seems very aware of that, too, and doesn't miss splashing out every technique he can think of while searching meticulously for Peter's weak points as if it were hard to find them. Both adults quickly realize that the squirming teen turns out ticklish all over. The kneading had been evil already, but when Sam began softly tickling over his bare stomach, the tips of his fingertips barely touching him, Peter thought he was ready to crawl out of his skin. He kicks his legs, bucking in their hold, and his face is about to split in half by how much he's grinning.

"STOHOHOHOP, stopstopstopstohohop, pleahahase! Sahaham! I cahahan't tahahake thihhis!"

"Oh, come on, don't spoil the fun. Spider-Man surely can handle a little tickling. Wait a second. Didn't you say you're not ticklish? If I do this, it shouldn't bother you. If you didn't lie about it."

Sam grins smugly, pushing the shirt upwards. He reveals a pale but well-defined stomach.

"That skin is as white as a sheet. You ever go out?" comments Bucky, and Peter doesn't know why but finds himself laughing even louder. Or it could be the cause of Sam's fingers, which have found their way towards his ribs and dug into them with vigor. The teen jolts as a finger digs into a particularly delicate spot, right under his bottom rib.

"Would you look at that?" Bucky and Sam share shit-eating grins while Peter gasps for air between a giggle fit.

"What have we gotten here?" Sam asks. He puts his hands on Peter's ribs, his thumbs lying right on the spot that had made the teen jump a moment before. That alone was enough to make him flinch again.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's a bruise from a few days aGOHOHO. NO!"

"You got hit?" asks Sam incredulously, before massaging into the spot with circling movements of his thumbs.

Peter can only nod, lips pressed tightly together, and eyes squeezed shut as he tries ignoring the electrical impulse jolting his entire body with pure willpower. He might have succeeded if there wasn't a third hand sneaking down and blunt nails dragging over his right armpit.

Brown eyes shot open widely, and Sam used the moment of surprise to press both thumbs into the spot while vibrating his hands and shaking them as the rest of his fingers dug between the teen's ribs.

"NAAHAHAHAHAHA. THAHAHAHAT'S UNFAIHIHIHIR! AHAHAHAHA BUHUHUHCKY, YOUHU'RE SUHUHUCH AHAN ASS-ACK! I'M TAHAKING IT BACK!! I'm taking it back, I'm tahahaking ihihit bahahack! I never said anythihing!"

"It's fascinating how a little tickling can bother a non-ticklish person as much as this, right?"

Bucky had to put both hands back to use holding the teen down, who was trying everything to free himself. Peter squirms back and forth under the series of attacks as high-pitched squeaks, followed by loud laughter, pour out of him. "Youhuh bohoth ahahre terrible! Terriblehe ahahand meahan!"

"You told your aunt something different."

Sam almost felt evil.

Wide eyes stared at him with something akin to horror.

"How do you know what I've talked about with my aunt?"

"We might have overheard some stuff."

Both men thought now they took it too far. But instead of distrust or anger, the teen wears a cheeky expression, eyes gleaming with a familiarity resembling Stark a bit too much for Sam's liking.

"Good to know that at least you're hearing's still alright."

"You little shit. Just wait till I'm done with you," threatens Sam with a growl. Before Peter can let out another savvy quip, the man bends forward and blows a giant raspberry on top of his stomach.

Peter didn't see that one coming.

A short scream escapes his throat, his back arching off the couch as the flight reflex kicks in harder than ever, collapsing into a madly giggling heap of weak limbs.

"I think you just found Spider-Man's weak spot. Gotta remember that for the next training session."

Those words would usually be enough to leave Peter shuddering, but, at the moment, he couldn't grab one clear thought as Sam's head was already on the way down.

"Let's see how many of these you can handle, tough cookie," teases Sam with a smirk as he blows a third, fourth, and fifth raspberry on Peter's stomach and when he can reach his sides.

"Ohoho my gohohod, pleahahase, stahahap it!" presses Peter out before breaking into another giggle fit, adorable squeaky laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the room.

"You know, all that wouldn't have happened if you had just got up when we told you to. How about now? Will you get up? Are you awake?"

The grin on Peter's face reaches up to his eyes, mirth dancing in them despite the teen calling them out for torturing him. Sam observes the kid growing frantic as his fingers wander higher up.

"I can get you wide awake in a second. Wanna bet?"

With these words, Sam bends his head down again, but before his lips can meet skin, he stops and digs his fingers into Peter's armpits instead. A mad cackling follows, and Peter pulls and pulls on his wrists, the feeling of fingers fluttering over his armpits driving him up a wall.

"I'M AWAKE. IHIHI AM COMPLETELY AWAWAKE! Ohoh my gohohod, Sahaham stohop. Pleahase nohot my underarms, I'm goihihing tohoho gehehet up whenehehever you tell mehe toho!"

"Only when I'm telling you?"

"Whehehehn you're bohoth are tehehelling me!"

"You know, I don't care if you listen to Bucky."

Bucky turns away from the teen to send a glare to Sam's way. "You wanna fight?"

The teen uses the distraction and pulls strongly. He manages to get one arm out of Bucky's hold. He grabs Bucky's hand, prying the fingers off his other wrist.

"Oh no, you don't," says Sam and claws his hands into the teen's stomach. The fingers retreat from Bucky's hands as the teen cackles and tries shoving Sam off of him. Bucky takes the distraction as a chance and quickly captures the free hand as Sam weakens the kid by digging his thumbs into his hipbones.

"You listen when we tell you, alright?" he asks with a grin as he threatens to let his fingers hover over the kid's exposed tummy. Peter's eyes weren't even focusing on him, only watching his hands while unwillingly sucking his stomach in as Sam smirks at him.

"Ihihi wihill!"

"And now admit that you're ticklish."

At first, both adults didn't think it would be possible for the teen to grow redder in the face, but they were proven wrong after Bucky's words.

They couldn't stop teasing the teen for it.

"Come on," urges Bucky, using one hand to hold the teen's wrists as he pokes him in the side, earning a panicked chuckle.

"Admit it. I'm a itty bitty ticklish spider."

Peter glares at them and shakes his head, but the continuing poking from both men causes him quickly to fall into another hiccupy giggle fit.

"If you refuse, we have to handle this a different way," taunts Bucky with a sigh as if he regrets the next thing he's about to do. Peter struggles against the grip, but Bucky pulls his arms further, stretching his upper body and leaving it to Sam's mercy. The other man makes sure to dig his thumbs into the teen's stomach before blowing one raspberry after another on the quivering belly under him.

"Sam! Sahaham, pleahahase. Thihihis is torture! I'm going tohoho, to tehell Steve that you-ACK, ahahaha, thahat you two tormented meheh!"

"Nice try, but Steve doesn't like snitches."

"Steve also doesn't like bullies," argues the teen with the best glare he could muster.

Sam and Bucky exchange glances.

It doesn't take two seconds for Peter to regret his threat.

"I'm sorry! I'M SOHOHORRY! SAHAHAHAM, BUHUHUCKY! Noho mohore, pleasahe. I'm tahaking ihit bahack! I wohon't say anythihin to Steve, okay? NAHAHAHA STAHAP, SAM! NO! No,no nohohoho not thihis agahahain, pleaahase. I'm tihicklish, you heard me? I admit ihit, pleahase stahap."

"Okay, one more thing."

The kid sent them a pleading look, and Bucky felt like kicking a puppy if he didn't let him go now. Peter quickly pulls his shirt down once set free and crosses his arms over his chest. He climbs to the end of the couch, a wary look in his eyes. He doesn't trust any of them right now.

Sam rolls his eyes at the teen's overdramatics while Bucky smirks. Deciding to ignore the kid's glare, Sam sits down next to him.

"Why are you acting so different around us now?"

Peter raises an eyebrow at the question.

"I thought you eavesdropped on me and my aunt?"

"Maybe, but it still doesn't make sense."

There is a new shade of pink growing on the kid's ears and neck. He looks down and picks at his pajama pants.

"I kinda got intimidated by you two. I always thought you didn't like me very much, and there isn't more to it than being on the same team during missions. I've never dared to be just me around you guys like I would with Mr. Stark or Clint. But when you two took care of me when I was sick, I realized that you express your affection differently than I'm used to."

"Are you telling me that now you know what we are like, you're going to continue acting like a little gremlin cause you feel comfortable around us?"

There it is again.

That dreaded shit-eating grin.

"Maybe."

Sam groans.

"Great."

Peter smiles before looking up at the man.

"Hey, Sam."

"What?"

"About the thing with the glasses-"

"Come here, you little shit!"

#ticklish peter parker #lee! peter parker #ler! bucky barnes #ler! sam wilson #peter parker #spider man #avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon #sam wilson #tickling #marvel tickle fic #marvel #marvel fanfic

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ginsengkitten · 9 months ago

Text

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter Seven

Rocket Queen

wc: 2800

smut warning

The one y’all been waiting for lmao

The anticipation of seeing Slash again was completely palpable. You bee lined your way to the stage door. A familiar sight of a dark alleyway surrounded by shady figures. But this time you felt less….afraid. All you could think about was him. You felt brave enough to let yourself in the stage door after a random crew member leaves and you slip your way inside. The backstage was a dark seedy cavern of chaos and crewmen. You feel a large heavy grip on your shoulder. You turn around hoping it’s him but are disappointed to see a large intimidating bouncer. “No groupies back here girl. “ he bellows. “It’s cool she’s with me.” A voice says from behind him. The bouncer doesn’t care much to verify that and walks away. “Looks like you found your own way in then.” He smirks as he approaches you. He’s almost stunned and takes a second to examine your obvious style change. His eyes eat up your body from head to toe and you blush. You pull nervously at the edge of your mini dress. Almost confident but not quite. “Look at you Foxey…” He says quietly eyeing you. As much as you want to be simply eye candy, you want to get to the bottom of his query of inviting you tonight. You nervously cross your arms. “So….you called…” you start

“I called.” He confirms cheekily, still eyeing you.

You shift anxiously. “ ….so?”

“So?” He replied again even cheekier.

“Soooo- is there something you wanted to tell me or?” You pry, desperate for answers.

“Does there have to be something to say? Cant a guy just want to see a pretty girl?” He replies boldly smirking down at you as he walks closer.

You nervously look around the two of you to confirm no one is witnessing this private moment.

“Follow me.” He turns sharply and heads to the back of the stage. This backstage was different. It was larger and had rooms. Private dressing rooms. While not fancy by any means. You follow discreetly behind him into a main sitting area where the rest of the band was passing around a bottle of whiskey. You join them. Slash taking a widespread seat on the couch and pulls you on his lap. This time, less layers of clothing lie between you and him. You could feel him underneath you. Hard.

Knowing and feeling this gave you a jolt of electricity and heat in the pit of your stomach. Did you sitting on his lap feel good to him?

“Our groupie returns!” Axl proclaims excitedly. “Fuck you.” Slash laughs. “Oh Right boys, this is slashes special toy, don’t be messin with her now or Slash will kill you in your sleep!” They joke. You wonder if they are at all serious. Special toy?

Slash snakes his arm around your waist from behind and holds you on him. This touch gives you butterflies. You need more of this, of his touch. As the conversation peters onward you can’t help but want things to go in a different direction. You start making small adjustments on his lap, slight shifts in movement that gave friction to him. You can tell it startled him in a good way and he tightens his grasp around your waist in response. He felt good underneath you like this. While you had never been sexual with a man before, all of this felt and flowed naturally for you.

You got more brave and decided to start tracing the denim seam on the outside hip of his jeans. A simple yet effective choice. You wanted him to know what you wanted but were too shy to say. What you’ve been wanting. The rest of the group too drunk or pumped up to notice or care, the backstage lights low gave way to much more freedom in the low light. As the conversation loudly carried on, the two of you slip into your own exchange. He leans you back on him so that his mouth is next to your ear. His warm, cigarette flavored breath heavy on your ear as he whispered to you. “Need something Foxey?” He whispers sultry. His words and cadence makes you weak. A feeling of warmth between your legs as his words warmed your ear. You can’t help but smile mischievously. Torn between the nerves of having never gone to such sexual lengths with a guy before and the animalistic ferocity that was taking you by storm.

You look to him. He looks at you with a bloodthirsty gaze. The two of you in a mutual agreement of sorts. He returns back into the conversation at hand. His hand wrapped at your waist begins drawing little circles in the side of your dress. Casual to any outside but agonizing to you. His reply in this little game. The group is getting up to go somewhere. “We’re gonna hit, you coming?” They ask as they all round up to visit the bathroom together. “We’re gonna hang back.” Slash says. Once they file out of sight it takes Slash all of one second to get off the couch and lifts you up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You let out a yelp of delight. “Slash!” You chirp as you laugh. Now what?

Slash doesn’t respond and proceeds to carry you down a dark hallway into a small dingy dressing room. He locks the door and as soon as he sets you down you’re up off your feet again and pressed up against the door by Slash. He lifts you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “Slash!” You giggle again. Slash roughly presses his lips against yours. Sparks fly again. Harder now. His curls hiding your face into his in a little curtain. You melt into him. His touch is addictive. The way he holds you like your going to get away but that’s the last thing you want. He towers over you, cradling you entirely in his grip like it’s nothing. His hands grip your ass hard and he lets out a heavy breath against your lips. “You know how long I’ve wanted you?” He growls. The two of you fall desperately deeper into the kiss. His wet tongue dominates your lips and slides its way into you. He tastes so good. One of his large hands slides it’s way up from your bottom to your waist, and then up your side and finally, hugging over your breast. You let out a soft moan of pleasure. Something he had been imagining in his own head for some time. How you looked, how you sounded…He smiles viciously. “God I need you to do that again for me sweetheart.” He pants out in a frenzy and gives your breast another loving squeeze to which you oblige another soft moan out into his lips. He smirks again.

He shifts away from the door and carrys you over to a beaten down futon in the dressing room. Setting you down roughly. As he sets you down he stays low and comes to his knees, yet met you at your height sitting down. His large hands rested heavily on both your hips, he kisses you and then works his way with his lips and his hands down your chest, to your stomach, his hands slipping down your thighs, he firmly prys open your legs but for some reason, maybe due to the pure foreign nature of the action you reflex and slightly close them accidentally. This takes him aback and he looks up to you with a devilish grin turned concern. “What is it Foxey?” He asks while pecking sweet kisses on your knees. “Oh - sorry I don’t know why I - I - go ahead I-“ you stumble to find remedy. Slash looks at you in a total realization. “Foxey…have you ever…?” He asks. You shake your head shamefully. “Oh Foxey…” He coos sweetly and lowly. “Let me show you baby.” He continues without further conversation. You didn’t need convincing but hearing that helped you relax again and your body surrenders to his touch. He continues on and prys your legs open gently. It takes him all his strength to not completely devour you so quickly. He smooths his rough muscular hands up your inner thighs, mirror one another’s movement. He hikes your dress up further. Speckling sloppy wet kisses across your waistband and over the top of your panties. He looks up at you through a curtain of dark curls to watch you. “ I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, I just need you to do one thing for me.” He whispers and he slides down your panties and discards them. The cool air hitting you. “Yes Slash?” You ask with a breathy desperation. He smiles at your eagerness. “ I need you to moan for me baby.” He says and slides a finger inside of you effortlessly with the already slick wetness that had accumulated down there. You let out a soft gasp and moan. “Oh god!” You gasp. He smiles. “Good girl.” He smirks with barely an ounce of morality at his deflowering. He begins pumping his finger inside you. You feel something cold and realize it’s the finger with the snake ring. He never took it off. Nevermind that now. Pleasure swayed within you echoing through with each gentle pump inside you with his finger. “I wanna hear you baby.” He whispers desperate to hear your moans and adds a second finger. It only hurts for a moment but the pain turns to pure pleasure. He’s not hard with it, just soft gentle pumps into you like he’s fingering a guitar. You let out another moan. He exits you with a grin and climbs up to you, leaning you back onto the couch. He brings his wet fingers to your mouth. “Open up Foxey.” You obey his sweet command and he sticks his fingers into your mouth softly. “Suck” He commands in a low gravelly tone. His eyes piercing you as he watches through darkened eyes. You obey again. “You taste so good huh.” He affirms. This seemingly strange action gave you coils of hot sparks through you. You keep eye contact with him while you wrap your tongue around his fingers and suck generously. He returns to you below and this time flattens his tongue across your lips in one long broad stroke. You throw your head back again and let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. “Slash.” You moan.

Your voice moaning out his name drove him to his limit. He stood up and unbuckled his jeans. You take off your jacket and hike your dress up further. Need more of him. “I want you inside me. Please.” You blurt out in a breath. As if you even had to ask. He smirks devilishly at your admittance. “Just do it just go.” You beg. You’ve never wanted anything more. He pulls your towards him with your legs wrapped around him . In an instant you feel him push into you. Pain and pleasure spark out of you. “Fuck” You moan out. He lets out a sharp breathy groan and throws his head back and pushes his hair back although it falls back over him immediately. “You feel so fucking good Foxey girl.” He groans out. He slowly begins pumping in and out of you. Watching for signs of displeasure from you but all you feel is ecstasy. He throws his shirt off, exposing his sweaty happy trail to which you could now finally see where it led to and it was in-fact- happiness. His abdomen glistening again with sweaty specks. He looked so good on top of you. Thrusting into you faster and faster. He leans down and cradles your head in his hand while holding himself up with the other he rests it forehead atop yours as the frequency increases bigger and bigger. The two of you moan in harmonious rhythms, he rocks his hips into you. This incredible dance of rough and romance. His moans sound so pretty. His curls swayed with every thrust into you.

You both pant heavily into each others faces as knots of pleasure twist inside both of you. “Here.” He pants out like a dog and reaches his fingers down over your clit. The added stimulation sending lightning strikes down your legs. You start to feel yourself tensing up and be did too. “Slash-“ You pant out softly. “I-“ you don’t succeed in your speaking before stars are spinning through you. “Oh fuck-“ You cry out. He cradles your head through it and watches you squirm underneath him in pleasure. You dig your nails into his back. He doesn’t stop. As you begin to descend slightly, the sight of you underneath him. Everything. You, the way you moaned his name, the way you dressed, the way you looked, spoke, laughed, walked. All of his deep seeded infatuations with you built up finally coming to a grand release. He lets out a concealed rough grunt and quickly exits you as white hot spurts out over your legs. Still dizzied with pleasure, you watch. He finally halts and slightly collapses himself onto you. The two of you stay silent, staring into one another’s eyes, catching your breath. You had never felt so connected to something in your life like him, like this.

“What’d you think Foxey?” He asks smirking arrogantly. You blush as you come to your senses. Slightly embarrassed by the scene you made. “It was..so good.” You grin. This makes him happy and he comes back down to you and gives you a hot exhausted kiss. “God I could kill for a cigarette right now” you laugh at that sentence coming from your own mouth. He laughs and gets up. Before his pants are even fully buckled he’s got a lit cigarette in between his lips again and passes it to you, you take a big inhale and total cool bathed your entirety. You stay half naked lying down, staring at him and the smoke leaving your lips. “Do you think anyone heard that?” You ask him. To which he chuckles - “probably.”

You smirk. “ Good.”

#slash #slash fanfiction #slash gnr #slash x reader #gnr smut #slash smut #gnr #saul hudson #gnr x reader #saul hudson x reader

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burnyourtrains · 6 months ago

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SDV Bachelor/ette Headcanons!!

I was peer pressured by @jessibbb into posting these <3 (also I'm on mobile so if it looks bad no it doesn't.)

ALso divider credits to the lovely @thecutestgrotto and @saradika

Done in alphabetical order, because we're not playing favorites here

Bachelors:

Alex

I feel like he was into band when he was younger and in school, but he got bullied for it, so he switched to gridball instead. He loves gridball, but sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he stuck with the trumpet.

Jess thinks he's short, but I don't think he'd have as much arrogance/confidence that he does in game if he were short. I think he does the hands on top of the doorframe thing.

To me, he was one of those semi-annoying popular guys in high school who would interrupt the class of the younger grade and ask the teacher if she missed him.

Takes skincare seriously (ty Haley)

Helps Evelyn in the kitchen and around the house

Shockingly handy? He's good at fixing things (doesn't want to be a burden on his grandparents, and he knows George feels bad that he can't do maintenance around the house.)

He and Haley have matching friendship bracelets

Elliot

(To the Elliot stans, I'm so sorry, but I cannot stand his character. Initially I was gonna marry him but then he started talking and I just Couldn't. So here's how I thought he was going to be. (I try to keep it somewhat similar to how he is in game but I just,,,,,,,))

Very romantic

Comes on too strong at first, but once he realizes he apologizes and learns how to be one of your really close friends (unless you ever want to be more, obvs)

Loves the drama of a historical romance

Adores Jane Austen

I feel like the game suggests that he isn't very tidy, but in my mind he keeps himself and his space neat and clean. (He might have a depression pit when he's feeling morose or lacking creativity, but he gets it together after a shower or a walk)

He's not egotistical (I also feel the game implies some of this), but he's not entirely humble, either. Very self-assured, but that could possibly be to mask that he really worries about whether or not his writing career will take off.

Harvey

(Jess drew little hearts around my notes for this one lmao)

Actually very sickly as a child, which I think had a huge factor in driving him into medicine.

Likes when the farmer does his nails. It's nice to have someone want to dote on him. (He ends up taking the polish off when he has to work for sanitary purposes, but that just means you can do them again later <3)

Secretly had a piercing at one point, but he was relatively anxious about having it, even though it made him feel good about himself. Possibly anxious because it didn't fit his "image"; he doesn't have it anymore. (He was So crazy in college literally what was he thinking??????) (it was a bellybutton piercing btw)

His guilty pleasure food is ice cream don't tell

Podcast lover. (Mainly medical and aerospace)

Sam

Mans has a mullet. I will not be accepting arguments at this time

He doesn't have a favorite color, but he really loves bright ones

Definitely has ear and possibly facial piercings

Idk where I'm getting this from, it's kind of based solely on vibes, but I feel like he might be colorblind?

Loves having his makeup done

Wears minimal jewelry, but is always wearing at least one ring, whether that's on a chain or on his finger depends on the day.

Sebastian

He gets called emo but I get more punk vibes from him

When you meet him he's just starting on his second sleeve tattoo

He uses candy cigarettes when he's trying to quit smoking, partially because he thinks it's funny, and partially just because he likes the sugar

I think he feels very stuck in the persona the town has given him, so he kind of just gives up after living there for so long on trying to convince people otherwise

Ear and eyebrow piercings, at least. Very willing to accept constructive criticism here.

Probably has the chain belt thing

Rings rings rings

Shane

I feel like he's either very tall, or very short, and I cannot decide which one

Cleans up very nice after he gets sober

Raises Jas more than Marnie does (Concerning bc alcoholism, but I can't stand Marnie so. The lesser of two evils I guess?)

Regularly takes walks to ward off dark thoughts

Keg king back in his college days

Bachelorettes

These are more look-based, since Jess and I were trying to do a redesign situation. The men I was struck with sudden inspiration and clarity for how to flesh out their personalities more, but I'll have to update the character work for the women when the creativity strikes.

Abigail

I kind of get undercut vibes from her

I think she has gages, for sure

Facial piercings but idk what most of them are called. Specifically a lip piercing

She has a small stick and poke that she, Sam, and Seb designed together

The big overlined lips that were popular in 2020 (might still be popular now but I'm no longer chronically online God bless)

Tattoo choker that was popular in the early 2000s

Big shaggy wolfcut

Elevated HotTopic vibes

Emily

Mixed metal jewelry queen

Wears multiple necklaces

Hippie-esque style (they really did her dirty with her game design she looks like s clown but she's so sweet that it's Criminal)

Crystal girly (a given)

Definitely has some sort of altar set up. Idk much about witchcraft so very loosely assigning her as a crystal witch

Really likes incense

Alice Cullen haircut, y'all know the one

Haley

She has such pretty lashes, I just know it

Big yabos

Her nails are always immaculate. Despite thinking her sister is weird, I think Emily is the one who learned how to give her acrylics

Alex is definitely the person she's closest to

I don't really have that many ides for her I'm sorry :(

Leah

Very wispy, ethereal hair (1908s aogg vibes)

Former hairdresser. While she still lived in the city, she went into cosmetology since it had the opportunity to be a creative career, and her partner at the time didn't really support her in her art (I think the partner bit is canon). Ultimately, she came to resent her job, and she left the city for Stardew Valley. I think she still uses the skills and knowledge she acquired when doing her own hair, and occasionally the hair of some of the residents in the valley.

Howl's Moving Castle earrings

Honestly Howl's Moving Castle vibes overall for her style I think

Dresses masc. but in a way that still comes off as feminine, if that makes sense. Think billowy white shirt from the male lead of a period drama

Most likely covered in some sort of art medium, (acrylics, wood shavings, oil paints, etc.), in a charming way, not an unclean way.

Maru

Minimal makeup, if any at all

She has cute little stud earrings she got as a kid (they're stars)

Has an astronomy charm bracelet, but it's only worn on special occasions. I think she'd be wearing it when she shows you the telescope and tries to confess her feelings for the first time.

She's a silver girly

Little baby hairs. Give my girl Maru better hair

Lowkey loves Hello Kitty (idk where this one came from but I feel it)

Penny

Bumper bangs. In general I get very 50s vibes for style

Doesn't think she'll ever leave Stardew Valley, so she doesn't really have any huge aspirations for herself anymore.

She mostly invests herself in teaching Vincent and Jas to the best of her ability.

Would have loved to be a teacher if she were to leave, but she worries about her mother, so she's never left

I know there are some ideas on here that seem insubstantial compared to others, but this is the best I can do currently! I'd love feedback, since I'm relatively new to the fandom and the game, but I hope you enjoyed!!

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cavinginhisfvce · 3 months ago

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Hidden Moments | Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley

a fic i started a long ass time ago, and posted a bit of on a different account, but now i want to actually finish it so!! here’s part one lmao

It started as simple ribbing, Jey had just wanted to get under Dominik's skin. He wanted to send a message that the offer to join The Judgement Day had never been more than a joke to him. The memes, the fanart. It was all meant to play into Jey not joining their merry band of emo wrestlers. He had no real feelings towards Rhea, he had no intentions of pursuing her, or taking her away from Dominik. It started as a joke, and it was meant to remain one.

That was weeks and weeks ago, Jey still wouldn't join The Judgement Day, he wanted nothing to do with the four of them. Especially Dom and Rhea.

Yet…Jey had let Rhea into his hotel room when she came knocking.

Just as he had two nights before, and almost a dozen more before that.

He knows he shouldn't have, he knows that the first time it happened could've been a mistake if it hadn't continued to happen.

Rhea doesn't give him the chance to deny her, not that he would. She's on him the moment the door clicks shut, and all thoughts of Dom are gone.

Her lips are soft, and she tastes like a tropical drink, that Jey knows the source of is the gum she chews. The flavor she started chewing when she found out it was his favorite.

He briefly wonders if Dominik has noticed she switched from minty gum, to fruity.

Rhea senses his distraction, and she isn't at all shy to deepen the kiss, or guide tattooed arms around her waist to ultimately be drawn in closer by.

Jey follows her lead, as he often does when they're in this situation, or ones similar. He loses himself in the kiss, hands trailing from Rhea's waist. Lower, and lower.

She hums her approval, though the sound is muffled by the sudden shrill of a phone. Her displeasure at being interrupted is obvious in the way she sucks her teeth and fishes for her phone with only one hand.

Once she has the device, the face of Dominik Mysterio flashes on the screen. Rhea tenses, but the hand in Jey's hair, the hand he has no recollection of how it got there, scratches gently at his scalp.

Clearing her throat, Rhea answers, her tone gives nothing away, even if she sounds slightly breathless,

"I'm a little busy, Dom-Dom. Is everything okay?"

Jey can't hear Dominik's reply, but Rhea frowns at whatever he says, nodding despite not being seen by the younger.

"I'll be back downstairs in a bit, can't it wait?"

Their eyes lock, and Rhea smiles at him.

It's a warm smile. Inviting. Unlike the smirks she wears on TV, this is a thing reserved for only a few. Jey knows as much, because he's seen her smile at Dominik, Damian and Finn similarly.

"We can come down now then, Dom. I wanted to actually ask him before dragging him with me, but if you're so eager…"

Jey's ears start ringing with the uncertainty that courses through him at her words.

His confusion must show on his face, because Rhea is cupping his cheek and nodding lightly.

What she's nodding at, he doesn't know. All he knows is he feels slightly sick, and like the earth was just upended in front of him.

Before long, Rhea is hanging up the phone and drawing his attention back to her.

"I'll be straightforward, because you look like you're about to throw up, baby."

"Don' call me that right now…" He curses himself for how weak his voice comes out.

Logically, Jey knew this thing with Rhea was merely sex, even if she looked at him like she could truly love him. Like she could want him in a way that was more than blowing off steam.

Sometimes they'd embrace after everything was done, and she'd tell him about her day, mindlessly tracing his tattoos and leaving kisses along his bare skin.

Those intimate moments usually went unbroken for hours before Rhea would have to sneak away once more.

It never dawned on him just how much his time with her meant to him, or how much he'd grown to rely on her presence. He hadn't realized he'd caught feelings for her.

Not that any of it would ever matter.

"Hey, come back to me, Sweet Face. I can explain, just let me, yeah?"

Her accent is thicker than usual, her bare face giving away the emotions she tries so hard to mask in the public.

Jey nods his head, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he does.

"I've wanted to tell you for a bit, but Dom is getting suspicious about us…he thinks I’m working to get you to join us." She pauses, pursing her lips.

"He had no idea what’s happening with us, and I’d prefer it to stay that way. For now at least.”

She holds his gaze, her makeup free eyes somehow more intense.

"Dominik will only drop his suspicions if…” She trails off, her fingers toying with the ends of her hair.

Jey is holding his breath at this point, his brain effectively overloaded with information, and his heart with unidentifiable emotions.

"You join us, for just a few days. Nothing official, nothing with a paper trail. He just wants to spend actual time with you, he wants you to become friends. And I know that sounds weird, but it's what he wants."

Breathing out a soft sigh, he shakes his head, his lips curling into a small snarl.

“Is that what this has all been about, Rhea? You wanted to manipulate me into joining y’all’s merry little band of misfits?”

Almost immediately Rhea is denying the accusation, her eyes squinting as she glances at the man she’s grown more than fond of these past few weeks.

“Baby…Jey, that isn’t the truth at all! I’d be happy to remain in our bubble like this, without the rest of them interfering, but Dom won’t drop his concerns, I’ve tried for weeks.”

Jey is silent for a beat, it’s almost deafening to Rhea, it makes her stomach churn with discomfort. It feels too real. It being the chance she could lose Jey, and lose his beautiful personality. His smile, the one reserved for moments between him and her. It’s suffocating in a way she never could have imagined, and each passing moment, it seems like Jey may truly cut ties with her. Leave her. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings as much as it does, but…she can feel the tears stinging at her waterline, her breathing hitching.

Before the first tear can slip down milky skin, Jey is reaching up and cupping her cheek, and despite her worries, she leans into the warmth of his touch; sighing lightly.

“Okay.”

Her eyes are widening at the simple word, her fingers loosely curling around his wrist.

“Wait, really?”

Jey, holding her gaze, nods his head once, his determination evident.

“Yeah, really. This ain’t long term though, Rhea. I’m doing this to be with you. Not for anyone or anything else.”

It makes her cheeks flush red, to hear him admit that so freely. She can’t help but to pull him into a deep kiss, hoping the press of lips can convey everything her words fail to.

They stay entwined for a moment longer, before Jey is reluctantly pulling away, his hands though, is wrapped firmly around hers.

“Ight, let’s get this over with, Mamas.”

Rhea and him share one final, meaningful glance, before they’re making their way to The Judgement Day’s shared hotel room.

It was now or never.

#jey uso #rhea ripley #jey uso x rhea ripley #jhea #damian priest #dominik mysterio #angst #jhea fanfiction #infedility #cheating #emotional affair #physical affair #jhea angst and fluff

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daydreamerbunny · 2 years ago

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Silly Girl [ Jake Sully x Omatikaya female!reader ]

heavily inspired by this art by @thevanityofthefox

Scenario: imagine tying up Jake in attempts to spice it up in your sex life and it does not go in your favor.

Pairing: Jake Sully x Omatikaya female!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, kind of mean Jake, spanking, orgasm denial, bondage, there is aftercare, not proofread lmao it's nearly 4 am

Author's note: giving young Jake some love lmao enjoy! thank you @thewayofhim for enabling this. If you see any errors no you didn't--

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Well, hello there." Jake leaned back against you as you ran your hands over his muscles and kissed his cheek from behind.

You hummed in response as you essentially felt up your mate. You run your hands over his pecs and then over his collarbones. Jake relaxed into your caresses and closed his eyes, his ears relaxing. You smiled gently and kissed his temple, running your hands down his biceps. You basked in the moments where you could take care of him. He was also insisting on providing for you even though you both knew that you could handle yourself just fine. That was part of the reason Jake fell for you. Quite literally.

"Ma Jake." You purred into his ear and watched it flick to attention. "Let me take care of you."

Jake's eyes open and he chuckles, shaking his head. "Not a chance, sweetheart."

"I had a feeling you would say that." You huffed and quickly grabbed his wrists, wrapping them in the rope as fast as possibly.

"Hey!" Jake's eyes widened and he attempted to stop you, but you were too quick. While Jake was strong you always had the upper hand in your stealth and speed.

You smile at your handy work and move to a crotched position, leaning to the side to look at your mate's annoyed expression. Once Jake saw your smile he glared. That look made you weak in the knees, but you wanted to keep committing to your act. You watched as his ears pinned back and his tail swished in high annoyance. You stood up and moved in front of him.

"You little minx." Jake almost growled with his fangs exposed and he lunged forward, but it was useless due to his hands being bound. "Let me go if you know what's good for 'ya." He threatened.

You grinned mischievously at the nickname. A name that Jake had to teach you the first time he called you that, which wasn't often. "I'd say that's a pretty unfair name to use in your position." You teased and got down on your knees, crawling into his lap. "Be a good boy and let me take care of you."

Jake was uncharacteristically quiet, but you took it as him submitting for once. Your tail swished happily at the idea. Your eyes leave his as you watched your fingers descend from his pectorals to his stomach. You graze the tips of your fingers down his abs and watched his skin jolt in delight. You bit your bottom lip as you glided over the band of his loincloth and pulled on the ties slowly. You look back up with your eyes and peer at him through your lashes. Jake was watching your hands with his mouth slightly open and his ears were back, his eyes snapped back up to yours.

You lean in and press wet kisses along his jaw, moving down his neck. You left little bites in your journey as your fingers released his almost completely hard erection from the confines of his loincloth. Jake was letting out little huffs of breaths at this point, but he was not letting out what you wanted. Your tail flicks once in annoyance as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and pump slowly though this doesn't help in your attempt to making Jake relax or make more noise. You started to wonder if maybe the rope was too tight and he wasn't saying anything.

"Ma Jake." You huff against his neck and sit up to peer around his arm to look. "Is the rope too--" You stop your movement and gasp to see that Jake has cut his way through the rope with a knife he picked up when he was lunging at you.

Jake waited for you to make eye contact with him and he raised a brow, tilting his head to the side with a one-tooth grin before full on pouncing you. You felt your heart drop and then you squeal, your heart absolutely racing as he manhandled you. Jake was able to catch you in an element of surprise and uses his strength to his advantage. You put up a good fight, but with his arms and legs he got you on your hands and knees.

"You thought you were so smart, huh sweetheart?" Jake panted as he pushed your upper body down and wrapped the remaining rope around your wrists behind your back. "Let me see this ass, baby."

You whined as removed your loincloth. Jake tsked and brought down a hand on your ass, causing you to yelp. You were honestly so terribly wet from just touching Jake and now for him to be manhandling you and spanking you was too much. Your tail moved out of the way and Jake grinned at the motion. He spanked your ass again and harder this time, another pathetic yelp leaving your mouth.

"What's wrong, baby?" Jake teased as his other hand moved to your core and slide two fingers over your folds. "Can't take it?" He asked as his two fingers slide inside of you.

You roll your eyes back in pleasure and bite your bottom lip, a moan still slipping past your lips. "I'm s-sorry." You started.

Jake's fingers started a brutal pace and another slap was delivered to your now sore cheek, "oh ho, now you're apologizing? I didn't even have to ask you." He teased. "What a good girl."

Your hips wiggle in an attempt to get away from the pleasure that was becoming too much and Jake huffed, wrapping his ankle around yours in attempt to keep you still. Your moans increased in volume as his fingers hit the spot where you needed him most. But you needed his cock inside of you so bad. It was right there you could feel it against your thigh.

"J-Jake please." You panted and your hands twitched in their bounds. "Need you inside." You whined as an orgasm was approaching very quickly.

"I don't know." Jake hummed and spanked you again. "Do dumb little brats deserve my cock?"

"I'm sorry!" You cry out and dig your nails into your palms, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." You repeat over and over, begging for this release and his cock to be inside of you.

Jake knew you were about to come, but he wasn't going to grant this one. To your dismay, he removes his fingers from your cunt and your cunt convulses around nothing. Your heart is racing and you wiggle your hips some more in desperation. You turn your head some more to watch him lick his fingers and smile at you. You looked so cute with your ass red and with tears in your big eyes. Jake ran his large hands over the plush of your ass and squeezed as he watched your wet core begged to be fucked.

"This is how you take care of me, baby girl." Jake lined his cock up to your entrance and ran a hand down your spine, "just let me fuck 'ya dumb." His fingers wrap around your rope and he thrusts forward, filling you up in the one thrust.

The moan you let out would be embarrassing if you were not so incredibly horny for your mate's cock. Each thrust shoot pleasure through your stomach and down to your toes. At this angle he reached so deep and he knew exactly which pace and intensity would have your toes curling. Jake's grip on your wrists helped pull you down to meet his thrusts and it had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Jake couldn't help his grunts and whimpers with the pleasure and exertion he was putting into fucking you. He wanted to fuck you so dumb that you wouldn't dare to be a brat again.

"That's it, baby." Jake grunted and put one leg up to better stabilize himself. "Fuck." He moaned and threw his head back.

You whined and mewled, just letting your noises free. The orgasm he denied you was coming back with vengeance and white hot pleasure started to fill your stomach. Your nails scratch at the skin they can reach as you cry out for Jake. "Fuck, Jake. Please-- I can't." You tried to let him know.

"I feel you clenching around me, baby." Jake's lower abdomen shook in pleasure as he felt his orgasm closing in. "Come for me, sweetheart."

Your thighs shook as you came and you squirted down Jake's thighs, your heart feeling like it would jump out of your throat. Jake grinned at the physical evidence of your orgasm, but it was quickly stopped by his own. His hands moved to your hips and landed some hard final thrusts as he released inside of you. His fingers digging into your striped skin and his teeth clenching. Jake's ears and tail twitched as he rode out his orgasm.

Jake collapses next to you and pulled you onto him, letting you drape your sore legs across him. He takes the knife and cuts you lose, gently massaging your irritated wrists. He nudges his nose against your temple and moves his hands down, rubbing your sore ass with a smile.

"So, my sweet girl, what was that about?" Jake kissed your forehead as he soothed your skin.

"I just wanted to take care of you." You pouted and nuzzled yourself into his neck, letting him tend to you.

"You do take care of me, baby." He leaned his cheek onto your head and ran his finger tips up your spine. "You take care of me by letting me take care of you."

You hum for a moment and trace circles on his chest, "promise?" You ask.

"I promise, baby." Jake chuckles and runs a hand through your hair.

#jake sully smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2009

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m1ssunderstanding · 10 months ago

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.2

Prettyyyyy

Maybe John's not actually crazy for thinking Hey Jude is to him? “For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.” fool is, in my tin hat world, often a code name for Paul in their songs. And that description is certainly him to a t actually. I wonder why I've never considered it before.

John: are you happy here, honey? Paul: I ain't happy here my honey, can you take me back? How many songs does Paul write from 1968 on about trying to go back? One day I'm going to make a list and it'll be a long one.

And thus begins the phase of they just can't help it, can they? But they really wish they could. They make each other so so happy, but they really wish they didn't. It would hurt less that way.

I love the comparison of Linda's pictures of everyone else and then of John. It just shows that it's not a her problem – that's such a lovely one of George, who Hates Yoko – it's how he feels about her.

John, coming up with every possible weapon to provoke Paul, finally has Yoko sing Paul's part in one of their songs. It really is such a slap in the face. But of course breaking the sanctity of their music is what does it best. And still, all he gets out of him is a look before he walks away. Whatever it is that John wants, I think Paul literally can not give it to him.

Btw the white album is my favorite, probably. There's just such incredible diversity on it. It's so much fun, you never get tired of it, and it's an excellent display of their genius and versatility.

He looks like an abandoned puppy.

What do we think? John says Paul drummed on WDWDITR. Paul says Ringo did. Who is telling the truth?

“It was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that but he couldn't make the break . . .” So John thinks Paul doing his songs by himself means he wants to break the group up? I personally read it as him not wanting to annoy everyone with his bossiness, but that's just my take.

John talking about how it's him and Yoko now, but before, it was . . .

George needs to send them a cease and desist notice or he'll sue them for breech of character the amount of times they drag him into things he's not a part of. Especially if they're not going to even fucking spare him a glance in reality. Please and thank you, Hare Krishna.

Paul's epigraph on the two virgins cover. “Battles to prove he was a saint”? What kind of passive aggressive shit is that, Paul?

The eternal question: what happened in India? And does John really not know? Or is he just unwilling to tell what happened to rolling stone?

Somebody please engage with that poor little boy, preferably, you know, his father. Ugh, Cynthia must've had so much anxiety watching that footage, or really any time Julian was with John. And that footage is placed in the doc right after a pic of Paul already being Heather's dad just so naturally.

But hell, if I've ever seen attention-seeking behavior, this is it. Singing about wanting to die while seductively undressing the closest thing Paul would've had to career competition at the time.

I'm sorry but it will forever be hilarious to me that when John's singing his part of “I've Got a Feeling” with Yoko it's “soft dream” and then with Paul it's “wet dream”. How John and Yoko tricked everyone into believing they were too horny for each other to control themselves is beyond my imagination.

On the day John plays their sex tape, “Unusually, Yoko is not present.” LMAO girl same. John: I'm going to play our sex tape for the band tomorrow. Yoko: oh was that tomorrow? Damn, I forgot, I have a thing.

“Well that's an interesting one.” What did John honestly expect, though? Like I know he wanted Paul to be like, “that's it! Enough is enough I'm taking you home and doing you right!” Or whatever. But what did he honestly, realistically expect?

Always saying the same things at the same time, always on the same page, same word. About everything, it seems, except their relationship.

Paul: but you won't say anything about it. John: I said what I've been thinking. Paul: Are you still thinking that now? What are you thinking now? John: I'm still thinking about it. Infuriating. Whatever it is John's been thinking, he doesn't want to talk about it in front of cameras. Is it quitting the band? I think it's something more complicated than that but I've no idea what.

“John, John, joooooohn!” X “Martha my Dear” crossover my beloved. The fact that literally Everyone reacts and tries to get her to stop except Paul is so extremely telling. Yoko: joooooohn! Ringo: He's busy! Yoko: joooooohn! John: Stop that! (And he looks and sounds genuinely pissed) Yoko: joooooohn! Paul: (plinking and pounding away, definitely not thinking thoughts about what he would do right now if he was a girl that will come out of his mouth fifteen years later)

Everyone's trying to figure out the problem with George vs JohnandYoko and Paul's saying “and like with Yoko, they’re real. They mean it.” Linda laughs. “I don't dig that.” You don't, Linda? What about them isn't real to her, I wonder. Does she think they don't really love each other? Or what?

Linda: *Makes fart noise* Go away! Paul: continues to defend them. Neil: everybody cough. See and this is why it sucks that get back was so edited. Because it's important that Paul's defending them here not just going on and on where nobody asked. He knows he's hurt John, and he feels bad enough about it to let him have his mommy with him at all times if that's what he needs.

If what??? Someone needs to force them to finish their damn sentences. Because I feel like he cuts himself off here when (I swear!!) he's about to say what it is that's hurting John so badly.

Anyway, here's where (imo) he's kinda wrong. Where he says "if it came to a push between Yoko and the band, it's Yoko." I think I said it in my get back posts, but I'll say it again. Yeah, if it was Yoko or the band, it's Yoko. But if it's Yoko or Paul filling all the gaps Yoko is currently filling? It's Paul. You know? And I think that's what John wants so badly at this time, actually. Is “a push between Yoko and [Paul]” ending with Paul stepping up for him in some way that he wasn't before, you know?

He really does get it though. John wanting to be as close as possible with Yoko so he doesn't lose her and their connection. Don't forget he does put Linda in his band. He gets it because it was the same with him and John.

I really do think it's a huge myth that they just never talked about feelings or anything serious. Look at them. This is how they talk in a crowded place with their girlfriends sitting right there. They didn't just get through fifteen years of one of the greatest collaborations in history never actually talking. They talked about deep stuff. And frequently.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #linda mccartney #yoko ono #ulm #understanding lennon mccartney

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namazunomegami · 9 months ago

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Atonement

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie

WC: 5.3k

Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕

Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.

A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork

It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.

Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.

Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.

“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.

He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.

Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.

“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”

Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.

“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”

You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.

“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

This… was a bit too far, you must admit.

You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.

“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”

A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.

“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”

You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.

“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”

You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.

Hold on…

You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.

Did he just… no, it can’t be.

He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.

But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.

It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”

“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”

Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.

“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”

You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.

“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”

The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.

You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.

“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”

His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.

“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”

A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.

“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”

His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.

The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.

“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”

You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.

“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”

Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.

“This is not your cross to bear.”

He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.

“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”

He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.

Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.

Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.

“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”

All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.

I’ll keep an eye on you.

It’ll keep an eye on you.

You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.

“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”

You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.

“I promise.”

You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.

You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.

You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.

“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.

“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.

“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”

Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.

“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.

And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.

In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.

The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.

There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.

You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.

“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.

“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”

And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.

The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.

And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.

This is what real worship looks like.

When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.

He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.

“Since when were you so reckless?”

His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.

“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.

Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.

You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.

The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.

And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.

You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.

“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.

And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.

Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.

You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.

But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.

You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.

He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.

Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.

But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.

You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.

“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.

Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.

And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.

“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”

No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.

“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.

There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.

“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.

His words cause anger to bubble up in you.

“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.

“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.

“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.

“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.

Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.

“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.

“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”

He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.

“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.

Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.

His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.

His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.

“And what do we say when we apologize?”

The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.

“Forgive me.”

You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.

Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.

His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.

He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.

And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.

“I forgive you.”

Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.

He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.

“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”

“I know. But you love me all the same.”

You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.

Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.

But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.

And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.

“Is your hand alright?”

He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.

He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.

And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.

You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.

“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.

“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.

“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #meesa writes #DAAARLING GUESS WHOS COME BACK FROM JAIIIIL #Idk what kind of deep psychological issue of mine is in that fic but now its your job to decipher #just please dont bring Freud into the picture I hate that man

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jennay · 1 year ago

Text

Misunderstood

Request:

I wanna request rory culkin in lords of chaos being in his record shop and seeing a not so normal customer for such a shop, he sees a pretty girl wearing her pretty mini sundress having her cute makeup and hair done, she looks all dolled-up ykyk. she basically goes there to buy something for her brother but she's so not into it, she so shy and "scared" to go there but she eventually does it and like euro kinda finds it adorable even tho everyone there is teasing her (AH IDK IF THAT MAKES SENSE LMAO, I just need fluff and cuteness and yk maybe a little spicy teasing IDK HEHEHE! hope u have a great day!!!)

Master List

An: I Hope this is what you wanted!

Words: 1700

Warnings: None. Maybe shit talking?

Shivers ran down your spine as you walked down the dark, dirty street. Why your brother thought it was a good idea to send you to this part of town was beyond you. You understood his foot was broken and needed someone to run errands for him, but you didn't belong with the people he associated with. You weren't into death metal, didn't wear all black, and you definitely didn't rage against the machine. You were quite the opposite. You enjoyed your colorful wardrobe and bubbly music and were more of a rule follower. You NEVER got in trouble or put yourself in a bad situation.

You had heard rumors about the record store and its owner. Some said he was a cult leader who performed rituals in the basement. Others said he was a serial killer who lured unsuspecting customers into his trap. Others said he was a vampire who fed on the blood of young girls like you. He wasn't twenty-five, but innocent people's blood kept him youthful.

Of course, you didn't believe those stories, but you still felt uneasy as you approached the store. It looked like a rundown shack, with faded posters and graffiti covering the windows. The neon sign flickered and buzzed, spelling out "Rock 'n' Roll Heaven." You wondered if that was meant to be ironic or ominous.

You pushed open the door and stepped inside. The smell of dust and mold hit you like a wave. You saw rows of shelves filled with records, tapes, and magazines. You also saw posters of rock stars and bands, some of who you recognized and others you didn't. The place was dimly lit by a few lamps and a jukebox that played an old song you couldn't name. Where the hell did you step into?

You walked along the aisles, scanning the labels and covers. You could feel a few different sets of eyes on you, and you tried to keep your head down but glanced up a few times with an awkward smile, hoping they didn't come toward you.

One man stood at the counter pretending to read a magazine, but his eyes would flick to you. He'd nudge his buddy and whisper something you couldn't hear, making you anxious.

"Sweetheart. I think you stepped into the wrong place." One of them says, staring at you. "You need to go to the record store on Broadwater. They have all that bubble gum pop shit you're probably looking for." You notice his piercing blue eyes carving into your soul, and you try to look away, but it's a trance. His long black hair hangs in his face, and deep down inside, you want to remark how he should stop wearing women's clothing and grow up, but the rumor of him eating people comes back to your mind, and you keep your mouth shut.

You find the name of the band your brother had mentioned, and there are several different pieces of vinyl, each from a different year. Why didn't he tell you the name?

"Do you not talk?" Another one calls from the counter.

You look up at him again, blushing, "I do. I'm just looking for something, and I'll be out of here." Your eyes return to the records, and you grab the newest one. Your brother was a collector, and it was more than likely he wanted the more recent item.

You hear his footsteps walking around the counter, and just to your luck, the bigger one is coming toward you. The one who looks like he might attack you.

He walks up to you with a smirk on his face, holding a cigarette in his hand. He blows smoke in your direction, making you cough. He looks at the record you're holding and snorts. "You're kidding me. You're buying this crap?" He grabs the record from your hand and examines it. "This is their latest album. It's garbage. They sold out to the mainstream. They lost their edge. They used to be good back in the day." He points to another record on the shelf. "This is their first album. This is where it all started. This is real music." He hands it to you and takes back the one you had chosen. "Trust me, kid. You'll thank me later." He winks at you and returns to the counter, leaving you speechless and confused.

Kid? You weren't a child.

You cautiously walk to the counter, noticing two of the three men sitting in the corner watching some gory horror movie, and you do your best not to make a face at it.

You try to play it cool like you weren't in your favorite red and white sundress that you'd just bought, you weren't wearing the cutest sandals you'd ever seen, or you didn't get dolled up for the day knowing where you were going.

You tried to ignore the stares and whispers of the other customers, who looked at you like you were an alien. But you knew you couldn't fool anyone.

"You're brave walking in here looking like that. You look like you got lost on your way to the Barbie convention." He sounds playful, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt your feelings.

You bite your lip, wishing he would just tell you how much you owe him, but he seems amused with you and taking his time. He grabs the record with a smirk and taps on the cash register.

He looks at you with a mock surprise and says, "That'll be a hundred bucks, please." He chuckles and adds, "Just kidding. It's only twenty. But I'll take a hundred if you want to tip me for my excellent service." He winks at you and holds his hand, waiting for your payment.

Your eyes deaden at his joke; you don't find him amusing. He hands you the record, still smiling as you walk away from him.

"Hey, I'm gonna take a smoke break." He tells the others and follows behind you. Was he following you?

Part of Euronymous felt guilty for the way he was acting. He didn't want to admit it, but that was his best attempt at flirting, and he failed miserably. "Hey, wait up." He says, catching you before you cross the street.

You stop, looking back for a second before you sigh and drop your shoulders, "Why so you can continue to be an asshole to me?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, holding his cigarette to his lips. "I wasn't. I didn't…Look, I think your style's cool. I, uh, I don't know how to talk to pretty girls." He admits.

Your brows scrunch together with confusion; you aren't sure what his game plan is. "I'm not really into Satanists or cult leaders, so you don't have to waste your time apologizing to me or trying to make me feel better about myself. I think you're tacky, just like your store."

He looks hurt by your words, but he doesn't give up. "Well, I'm neither of those things." He pulls his cigarette from his lips, "This is weird and I know this is weird, because I'm weird, but, let me at least walk you to your car. It's getting late and I'd feel like a shithead if something happened to you."

You hesitate, not sure if you should trust him or not. He doesn't look like a bad guy, just a misunderstood one. But you've heard stories about people like him, who pretend to be friendly and turn out to be monsters. You don't want to be another victim. "I'm walking to my brother's house, and I'd prefer you not to know where I stay." You tell him, but part of you wants to take his offer. It's creepy at night, and you have no way to protect yourself if something was to happen.

He remains quiet, watching you rethink what you just told him. Why did you tell him that? He could easily follow you and find out where you live. You curse yourself for being so stupid. "If I let you walk me home, promise not to stalk me?" You ask him, hoping he's not lying.

His laughter rings in your ears, "I won't stalk you. Between my band and owning the shop, I don't have time to stalk anyone plus, if you want to see me, you know where I work." He playfully winks. "Come on, let's go. I promise I'll behave." He smiles at you with a charming grin that makes your heart flutter. You wonder if he's as bad as you thought or just a lonely soul looking for company. You decide to give, hoping you won't regret it later.

You make small talk, asking him about his band. He tells you that his band is called Mayhem and plays black metal, an extreme and controversial music genre.

"I'm glad you came in today. I know it can be a bit over the top, and I'd be lying if I said we weren't being judgemental dicks." He laughs, his eyes dart to you nervously, waiting for your response, but you continue to watch the sidewalk. "I hope part of you doesn't believe I'm what everyone says."

You tilt your head up, looking at him with curiosity. You wonder why your opinion would matter. "I think you're misunderstood but you kind of like it that way."

He shrugs and takes a drag from his cigarette. "I do enjoy being a rebel and an outcast. I like making people uncomfortable it's entertaining to see how fearful people are." He exhales the smoke and looks at you with a smirk. "But maybe I also like surprising people and showing them that I'm not a monster. Maybe I like being normal and human."

"You know, nice doesn't look bad on you. You should try it more often." You're able to genuinely smile at him this time. "Well," You say, stopping in front of the apartment doors. "This is it." You don't know how to end this interaction. It's not like this was a date or a friendship.

He nods, "Alright, I'll see you around?"

You shrug with a playful smile as you open the door, "Maybe."

He throws his hands in the air as he walks away from you, "I'll take it!" He says, his voice full of excitement. He looks back at you and gives you a thumbs-up, making you laugh, and he disappears into the night, leaving you with a story to amuse your brother with and a memory that might make you return to the 'scariest' record store in town.

#rory culkin #euronymous #lords of chaos #euronymous x reader #fluff #euronymous x you

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