#you've got to be carefully taught
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You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear,
You’ve got to be taught from year to year,
It’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear—
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a different shade—
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate—
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
-You've got to be carefully taught from South Pacific by Rogers and Hammerstein
This photo was taken over 20 years ago by Todd Robertson during a KKK rally in northeast Georgia. One of the boys approached a black state trooper, who was holding his riot shield on the ground. Seeing his reflection, the boy reached for the shield, and Robertson snapped the photo.
I think the officer’s expression says it all. This child standing before him is being taught how to hate even though he doesn’t understand it. He probably doesn’t understand the difference between this and Halloween.
#Emi says#they nailed it in that song#So grateful that my parents did all the could to teach me the opposite#Because people can also be taught to love and accept those that are different#south pacific#rogers and hammerstein#you've got to be carefully taught
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NPR: "A school in Jerusalem brings Arab and Jewish kids together to boost understanding"
"In the beginning," she says, "they learn very basic knowledge about each other. And as they grow up, it becomes deeper understanding of the different lives that we're living here, the different narratives that we hold." "We practice empathy and understanding and we practice sharing our feelings and our identities," Meyer says. "Not separately, but together."
#You've Got To Be Carefully Taught#Teaching Peace#Teaching Understanding#Building Bridges Of Understanding#Jews and Arabs#Arabs and Jews#Love Thy Neighbor#Tearing Down The Walls#Will You Take My Hand?#NPR.org#NPR News#Jewish And Arab Children#Practicing Empathy#Practicing Understanding#Empathy And Healing#And never again will they learn war#Isaiah 2:4
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Forever With You
Mr. Crawling
Synopsis: Even your home doesn't feel like a home ever since you left the other world, so you decided to go back and stay with him for good.
Spoilers!⚠️ From END03: I'm Back
Incorrect grammar (pls forgive me)
Mr. Crawling being a cutie patootie
I was really feeling like writing something for him because I luv him so much
Word count: 1,648
Ever since you came back to your own world, life's been peaceful. No mysterious rooms, no creepy monsters, and no blood spilling everywhere you go.
At first it was hard to keep yourself sane, being kept for a long time in a world that's not known to you, being away from your loved ones, being alone without anyone to stay with you, of course it would be tough.
Except there's a certain someone who stayed with you throughout your journey, wandered with you around the endless maze of unpredictable paths, protected you from any threats, and taught you two important things: what is love and what it feels like to be loved.
You know people would criticise you, calling you a 'psycho' or even 'insane' for loving a monster like him. And even if it's him against the world, you know to yourself who to pick.
And it'll always be him.
Now...what was his name again?
Mr......Crawling?
Is that it?
It sounds so familiar, yet so foreign to hear.
Am I right?
Or am I wrong?
Where is he?
Ah. That's right. You both got separated just as you reached the exit, it felt so painful leaving without him, like a part of you was stuck elsewhere. What was more horrifying to see is how your memories of the other world slowly fades like it's just a fever dream you once had. A string of hope always comes at the last possible moment, as if it wants you to be stuck to choose whether to keep on trying to remember everything or just let it disappear once and for all.
For the past few nights you've always found yourself stuck in the same dream every single time: Your body under the blankets of a hospital bed, and he's keeping an eye out for you, laying his cold head on your stomach with half of his face hiding underneath his long, black hair, watching you with that seemingly creepy but cute smile of his as he asks the same question over and over again.
"You like me?"
And every time you reply to him with the same answer again and again...
"I like you"
He'd laugh and ruffle your hair. He'd say how happy he is to hear that as he kept on laughing, muttering "I like you" numerous times.
And you'll always wake up with a tear-stained face and a tightened chest, longing for his touch and his love.
So you made the decision to finally end it all, end all the suffering, and go back to that building with no regrets. You prepared yourself and hurriedly ran outside your apartment to find the place where it all started.
The cold and quiet structure had this familiar breeze flowing even on the inside of your thick jacket. When you finally came across a large mirror with lots of cracks and a single hole just in the middle of it, you know you're almost there.
Shoes clacking on the concrete floor with each step, echoing through the spacious hallway, you wasted no time and stopped just infront of the large mirror. You take a glance of yourself, noticing the redness and the puffiness of your eyes as you carefully touched it.
You must've cried really hard last night.
Too focused on yourself, you didn't notice a single eye observing you through the hole. And when you finally shifted your eyes to meet the familiar man, you quickly leaned closer to the void.
"Mr. Gap!" You called out. Desperate eyes staring at him intensely.
You can sense him smiling just from the way his eyes curled up. It has been so long since you last saw him and you can feel yourself regaining those memories you almost lost.
"Please take me back!" You pleaded, not realizing that there's a language barrier between the two different worlds. Mr. Gap frowned, obviously telling you that he doesn't understand a word you said, yet he knows from that tone of your voice that you need help.
"Need help?" He asked.
You nod without a second, and instantly reply back, knowing you're finally getting the hang of their language.
"Need help return" You uttered out, and he was quick to respond, and you know just exactly what he'll do in exchange for helping you.
His hand suddenly pops out of the hole, curled up like he wants you to give something to him, which is just what he wants. "Give me your hair?" He chuckled, waiting for your response.
You took a pause and caressed your hair resting on your shoulder, you never actually realized how long it has been since you came back to your own world, your hair had grown over alot.
You smiled, a signal that you consented and that's where he was quick on action to grab you and the next thing you knew...
You're here.
You're back.
Now you just wished you were at the same time as him.
You looked to your side and found a cracked hole in a wall, and there goes Mr. Gap with his sinister eye smile. You asked him about the others, referring to them as someone you're with the last time you're here.
Happy was definitely an understatement to what you're feeling right now, it's far more than just feeling happy that you're finally here. You can finally see him again. You thanked Mr. Gap and decided to leave, but before he lets you vanish, he gave you a crowbar. It's not what you really needed right now but it's not bad to bring one just in case.
"Thank you" you worded out, still grateful to him for helping you, you're quite lucky he didn't ask for a heart or you would surely do what you need to do, even if it gets real bloody. He left the shadows and you headed off to who knows where, as long as there's a door or a way out.
With a crowbar on your hand, you walk past several rooms, some are familiar, while some are probably a new one. Encountering some familiar faces was really refreshing, some of them were Mr. Masque, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Machete. It's like a reunion with friends from the other side, but they're not the main reason you're here, you were still dedicated into searching for a familiar crawling man whom you really really want to see.
Finally, after resting for a little bit, you finally found that same room you had in your dream, you immediately turned the knob and walked right in.
No one was there.
You plopped down on the bed, feeling down knowing that he wasn't here, he might still be looking for you but you're already worn out, your feet are sore from all that walking and running.
Maybe if you take a rest, you'll find him next to you the moment you wake up. Lifting both your legs on the bed as you get yourself comfortable, you suddenly hear a weeping noise, like someone is crying.
You stopped moving and waited for it to make noise again, and it scared you for a bit, it was really close to you, but there's no one in this room but you.
It sounds like it's coming under the bed. You quickly looked to the left side of the bed, and found nothing, you had to make sure it's safe to look underneath before going at it. You looked to the right side and found a hair peeking out from under your bed, it was long, and dark.
You got up and sat on the floor, just infront of the dark view from under the bed. Leaning closer to examine it very closely, you shrieked for a second and backed away instantly when a face popped out of the shadows.
It looked at you for a while, before deciding to crawl out of there. Soon, it all came to view. It was him.
"Mr. Crawling-" before you could even finish your sentence, he jumped at you and completely wrapped you fully covered on his hold. Your arms made its way to wrap around his neck, hugging him back with your head buried on his shoulder.
"Found you!" He sounded happy as well, and his crying noises had finally stopped. Now it was your time to cry in his arms.
"I'm sorry" you repeated a few times before finally breaking down. He's confused as a baby, not knowing the reason why you're suddenly feeling sad. And with that he replied back. "Why sad? Not happy found me?" His hands gently pet your head, knowing just how much you need it as your sobs and sniffled echoed through the room.
"Happy, too happy" you replied between your sobs, and looked at him with your puffed-out eyes, he looked even more confused and the way his mouth frowned just showed how much he's clueless to what's happening to you. Without any second, he cupped both your cheeks and leaned closer just close enough for his nose to bump into yours.
"You pain? Hurt?" He asked.
"No, me fine" you assured him, and the look on his face was more than enough to make you giggle because it's still as confused as ever, you shrugged the idea of explaining it to him more further as it could lead to more misunderstandings. You gave him a peck on his lips and smiled. The laughter that comes out of him after kissing him was like a remedy for your pain, and you're finally at rest when he keeps you on his hold, muttering words like, "Me together with you", "I like you", and "Protect you".
"You rest?" was the last thing you heard him ask before finally falling asleep, ready for a new day tomorrow with him by your side.
It's decided. You're gonna stay with him forever.
#Homicipher#mr. crawling#homicipher#fluff#IloveMr.Crawlingsomuch#homicipher x reader#Mr.crawling x reader
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EVER SEEN.
— you have the prettiest eyes i've ever seen.
summary : you've been by damian's side for so long, you've seen everything. one night, the sun is lowering below gotham, but damian is watching something else.
note : if you can't tell i LOVE basing my fics off bea songs i literally laurv her saur muchhhh
whenever wayne manor got too loud, too crowded, too overwhelming, damian always found himself making his way back to you. this wasn't a now-thing, this has been happening since he was still a feisty young kid, constantly underestimated, constantly jabbed at. but you were the calm in his hectic life that taught him "normal" can be possible for someone like him.
someone raised by assassins, someone whose father is the richest man in the city. someone you appreciated nonetheless.
tonight, after a rather tedious dinner (jason was upset at bruce again for letting the joker kill him that one time, and stephanie was hogging the roast potatoes), damian shifted away to his bedroom and fled the mansion through a crack in his window.
you remember the first time he appeared on the other side of your window, knocking. living in gotham, you'd immediately assumed these were going to be your last living moments, but when you saw the spiky hair of your best friend on the other side, all worries subsided.
it had happened after a few months of friendship – when you were unsure where exactly you stood in his eyes, whether you were friends, best friends, or acquaintances – and damian had opened up about home, how it could be a lot. of course it could; no matter what type of household you live in, it can always become a lot.
"come round mine," you'd said, and saw damian physically retract. confusion? disgust? you'd never know. "here's my address. just knock on my window, my roof has an amazing view of the city, and no one knows it's there."
no one would know he was there. so, later that night, he appeared.
although the first time, it wasn't the last.
almost ten years later, damian was escaping from his bedroom at wayne manor, a mansion overfilled, overloaded by now. it had started off as once every couple of months, but, as the two of you grew, and damian's heart began to swell each time you spoke, it turned weekly. if you're lucky, maybe twice a week.
room dark, save for the dim lamp lit on your bedside table, you were focused on your phone. gotham outside your window had been shut out, locked away, blocked by a curtain. nothing could come in and get you tonight. not until...
knock, knock, knock.
eyebrow raising, you placed your phone down carefully onto the sheets and sat up. damian didn't say he was coming round tonight, but, then again, he never said when he was – but it was expected. he's already been round three times this week, already out of the ordinary.
you approached the window and carefully peeled back the curtain, eyebrows furrowed, but the tension in your forehead dissipated once your gaze set on the boy on the other side of the glass, his cheeky smile recipe for one of your own.
reaching out to unlock the window, you pushed it up, allowing a cool breeze to flutter in. that impish smile on his lips, damian moved to rest his elbows on the ledge.
"roof?" he hummed, peering up at you with his pale green eyes, which spiked as the darkness was vaguely illuminated by the lamp leaking out from your room.
despite trying to play off as annoyed – surprised, even – you struggled to keep the smile from your lips as you looked down at him, fingers gripping the plush material of the curtain. "this is, like, the fourth time you've come round," you chuckled, corner of your lip twitching with the ghost of a smile.
damian merely shrugged, resting his chin on his arm, tilting his head until his cheek met the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.
the way he looked at you caused your heart to pang, and it hadn't stopped for ten years.
allowing a few moments to pass for effect, your gaze lingered on his, before you carefully pushed his elbows off the window ledge, and shuffled onto it yourself. damian took a step back, holding a hand out for you to take, helping you to the metal grating of the fire exit on the side of your room, which would lead up to the roof; your place.
just as you had told him that one day however many years ago, the roof of your apartment had an amazing view of gotham; the best, if you wanted to argue that. it was just a flat, no one would expect it, which was why it was so perfect for the two of you – no one to disturb you, perfect to just talk.
before you could even sit, damian was tugging off his grey sweatshirt, and placing it down on the tile beside him.
you gave a chuckle. "what are you doing?"
"don't want your pyjamas to get dirty," he responded, patting the cotton as he peered up at you, before turning to look at the pollution of lights along the city skyline.
your eyes lingered on him for a moment before you sat down on his folded sweatshirt, tucked to give you just enough room to stay clean. he was always casually thoughtful like that, not even giving it a second thought before doing something, and then acting like it didn't just change the entire trajectory of your perspective on him.
"so, what happened this time?" you hummed after some comfortable silence, but damian only gave a croon as he looked over at you, and you glanced back. "i mean, i'm assuming you didn't just want to come see me."
"oh," your best friend replied, a soft chuckle to his response as he turned back to the skyline. "yeah, just..." he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his raven hair. "a lot going on. wanted to get away." damian took a break in his words and looked back curiously at you. "if that's okay?"
you gave a laugh, prepared to tease him. "oh, so you only want to see me when there's "a lot going on." typical."
"hey, you know i don't mean it like that," damian groaned, elbowing you lightly in the side, his words unable to disguise the smile in his tone.
once the joking energy had faded from the air, you turned to him with a calmer voice. "you know it's always okay to come round, damian," you smiled. "even when there isn't a lot going on. just whenever you want. for you, there's always time."
as you peered over at him, front of his face just barely illuminated by the distant gotham city lights, his eyes trailed over to you, small smile upon his lips. he focused in on you for a moment, vaguely nodding, before turning back to the view.
after knowing him so long, you recognised that as gratitude, and you didn't comment any further, simply turning to look at gotham, too.
you gave a soft sigh, bringing your legs up to your chest, to rest your chin upon your knee. "if you ignore everything wrong with this place, gotham could be one of the prettiest cities in the world."
"tokyo's pretty nice," damian hummed in return, leaning back on his hands against the tiling of the roof. "not sure if gotham could compare to that."
"never seen tokyo. that would be nice."
"we could go one time." damian looked over at you, the ghost of a smile along his lips.
"you'd do that with me?"
damian nodded softly, expression shrinking, sort of bashful now. his thoughtful eyes lingered on yours, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious, so you turned away.
"you know, you've always had the most amazing eyes," damian piped up, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the vroom of cars below.
heart catching in your throat, you looked back up at him, lips parted in a quiver. "sorry?"
that expression on your face, he mistook for horror, and the soft smile on damian's mouth disappeared almost immediately. "oh– i'm sorry, i... shouldn't have said that." he quickly turned away, horror visible in his own eyes, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth in distaste.
all these years... did his heart pound in his chest each time you spoke his name, as yours did when he spoke yours? did he have to brush his palms against the knees of his pants before knocking on your window? was his first thought every morning as he opened his eyes.. you?
"hey," you hummed, shuffling closer to him, not minding that your pants were half-against the tile, carefully taking his wrist in your fingers to peel his hand away from his mouth. "it's okay, i'm... i'm not mad, i just..."
you felt yourself begin to shrink up. take a breath.
"thank you." his eyes met yours, and, at the sight of your smile, his own mouth melted into a soft twinkle. "i'm not mad. at all. i just... you feel the same?"
a flicker of recognition flashed in damian's green eyes, and his fingers absently moved to lace into yours.
"the same?" he hummed, hopeful.
#aangelinakii#dc#dc comics#dc reactions#dc imagines#dc headcanons#dc universe#damian wayne#older!damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne drabbles#damian wayne headcanons#Spotify
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"Pushing back against hatefulness and bigotry always matters."
What do you think about Michael not defending David on his comments as he is getting criticized by politicians and other powerful people? I hope they are okay.
If ever David needs defending, I have no doubt Michael will be there.
Being criticized by the Tories, on the other hand, is a badge of honour, and Michael didn't need David when the Tories went after him earlier this year for The Way. It's like being gummed by a toothless dog.
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three parts of a whole
simon 'ghost' riley & john 'soap' mactavish
cw: smut/pwp, threesome, girlfriend!reader, unprotected sex, innocent!reader, size kink/difference, eventual polyam relationship (yay), accidental pregnancy , oral sex (simon receives), reverse cowgirl, couch sex
dating simon meant dating johnny. johnny was loyal to a fault and a great friend. simon honestly felt bad for him, even though he had looks that could kill and a winning personality, it felt like the world of dating apps were stacked against him!
"all the best ones are behind a paywall, johnny." simon assured him once. that was what you had told simon.
you and simon met at the grocery store when you overestimated your strength and tried to pick up a rather large watermelon to enjoy with the summer heat and dropped it mere inches away from simon's foot. the fruit exploded and you offered to pay for cleaning his shoes!
but instead he asked for your number and have been a pair ever since. you were a good sport too, a little on the innocent side with those pouty lips and little spatial awareness when you were out in public. you wanted to see johnny happy too!
so, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that after the three of you had dinner at the flat you and simon shared, that it would result in the three of you making out in the living room.
it didn't help that the three of you were sharing a lovely bottle of wine that simon brought back from a mission in france. by the time dinner ended, you were laughing as you were trying to pour the last bit of wine in johnny's mouth. which ended with both men kissing at you.
"ain't she a treat, johnny." simon laughed.
"oh yeah, si. she feels real good. wonder what that pussy must feel like." johnny replied, his words hot in your ear.
their large hands on you as they tried to get rid of the clothes you were wearing. your pussy felt wet in your panties as simon's slowly took off the shorts you were wearing followed by johnny taking off your shirt. you in turn carefully got both men undressed.
simon sat on the couch with his legs open, you between them doing a reverse cowgirl on johnny, who's face was in your neck. it was an odd arrangement, but no one was going without.
johnny's rough hands felt good on your soft hips. as did his cock nestled in you.
"better treat 'er good, johnny." simon said, "remember the only other person she's been with is me. i think i set the bar pretty high."
you rubbed your face against simon's exposed cock and looked up at him, "si, don't gloat. not nice." you pouted at him for a brief moment before you kissed the slick tip of his cock.
his hand went in your hair as he cooed, "of course, love. now you take good of our guest for the evenin'. don't want him to go home without a story to bring with him."
you nodded eagaerly, like a good little puppy. then placed your mouth on his cock and started to move your hips up and down johnny's cock while you sucked your boyfriend's cock.
you used simons' strong thighs to steady yourself as you worked their cocks. the feeling left you hot all over. you wanted to do right by both men, have them earn their fill.
they were so much bigger than you, in every sense of the word. simon always said that he could easily break you if he wasn't careful. but now you had two cock's inside of you from two bulky men who'd love nothing more than to cream in your sweet holes.
fill you up nice and good with a striking reminder of them.
you aimed to please, that was what simon taught you when you first started to get intimate. of course, they'd take care of you in return. to have both cocks bullied inside of you felt good. it made something flutter in your stomach.
"such a good lass." johnny groaned, "holy shit. you've been hidin' 'er for too long there, simon." his hands clutched onto your hips.
"ain't sharin' with everyone, johnny. she still mine, remember."
johnny chuckled and kissed at your neck, "how about she's both of ours?" you moaned against his touch which only excited him more. his hands soon went north to your breasts and toyed with them.
simon looked at johnny and said, "don't get cocky, sargent."
"never, l.t. now while our girl is snug on my cock." he pushed a little harder.
"yeah, next time you can eat 'er out after i finish in her." simon warned. the idea made both of you moan and he added, "insatiable, the likes of ya." then pushed your mouth further on his cock. he loved his sweet girl's throat, he also loved your pussy, your ass, your small hands, the space between your breasts. he even loved when you delicately nuzzled his cock.
he had taught you enough about sex that you were always a box of surprises. he watched you pleasure him and ride johnny. johnny looked almost blissed out by the entire thing. simon guessed that johnny hadn't even had his cock wet in a while.
simon held your head as he thrusted into your throat, egged on by your moans. you felt so perfect around him and he knew that johnny felt the same. pretty little thing.
the three of you rutted against one another. the sloppy sounds of sex filled the air. but the men you were pleasuring were starting to feel close to their climaxes.
therefore, their grips on you became tighter. they were egged on by your sweet muffled noises. johnny was really seeing hearts in his eyes at the sight of you.
a sweet cook, a sweet girlfriend, a sweet fuck.
simon lucked out,and johnny guessed he did too.
"here is comes, bonnie." the scotsman groaned as his thrusts became more erratic.
simon chuckled and looked down at you, "he's got quite the mouth on him." and held your face. you looked back at him and smiled through the daze of your lust.
you lucked out.
both men quickly came in you as you really worked johnny's cock to achieve your own orgasm. you rested against your boyfriend's thigh and panted, the taste of his cum in your mouth as you worked the scotman's cock. you came on johnny's cock even as he was growing soft.
with simon's swimmers down your throat and johnny's in your cervix. you felt elated and hot all over. but you didn't notice the look in simon's eye as he picked you up off of johnny's cock and placed you on top of his. the stretch once more made you cunt ache.
it was going to be a long, long night.
-
months later, johnny never really went home. physically he went back to his flat only a street over. but he was always over after that. especially now that you ended up pregnant.
the night the three of you spent resulted in an accidental pregnancy. the problem was that none of you knew who the father was. both simon and johnny finished inside you more than once that evening. so of course johnny was going to take full responsibility, and moved all of his stuff into the flat you and simon shared.
currently you were getting simon to check the temperature of the lamb in the oven because you were at a point in your pregnancy that neither you nor the wee lad inside you liked when you were bent over for too long. johnny was mashing the potatoes and earned a stern look from you when he tried to have a little bit of it.
"johnny."
"sorry, bonnie." he grinned. he could hear simon chuckle.
johnny didn't need to worry about apps anymore, or awkward first dates. he got to come home to a nice home with two happy partners and a baby on the way.
and sure, if the baby was simon's in the end, it just meant that the next one would be johnny's! <3
#bunny writes#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#reader insert#call of duty smut#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost call of duty#soap call of duty#soap mw2#soap mactavish#soap cod#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish smut#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#soap smut#ghost smut#ghoap x reader#ghost x you#soap x you#soapghost x reader#ghostsoap x reader
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forcing your presence onto simon late at night because insomnia and a cup of tea always helps, or so they say, but you were taught better than to not offer others some but now the steaming cup is just sitting on the table to cool while you carefully sip on yours.
he doesn't look at it, you, nothing. keeps his eyes fixed on whatever he's doing, maybe cleaning his gun or something. fine. what matters is that you did your part.
and it eventually becomes routine. every night, like clockwork, he's darkening a corner in the coffee room and you've got a kettle warming. and every night, he ignores everything in his peripheral.
until he doesn't. it starts slow. you're already headed for the door, hand covering your yawn when he picks up the mug and takes a sniff. then, it's the tiniest sip, as if it's got teeth. come morning, the mug you used and his are clean, drying on a dish mat.
the following night, he waits for you to put it on the table before grabbing it. "you've a shit hand," he mutters. "left to steep too long. more bitter than the cigars price smokes."
okay. bastard. the next pot is too bland. calls it dog water. but he drinks all of it just the same. little to no sugar, splash of milk. the stare he leveled your way when he added milk could've destroyed the block.
"secrets safe with me, lieutenant. swear it."
unless he's tearing your ego into tatters with his scathing tea critique, he says nothing else. listens well enough, though. maybe. his eyes look blank most of the time. but he lets you ramble without interruption about nonsensical stuff; your day, your job, soap being the usual nuisance.
it's nice.
and then you fall ill. nothing water and cocooning yourself with your bedsheets for a day or three can't fix.
but then there's a very violent knocking on your door, hard enough to rattle it in its hinges, flaring the already painful throbbing that sits behind your eyes. no matter how hard you try to tell them to piss off, they don't.
"open the door."
now you've got a 6'2+ man barreling into your bedroom, turning his unnerving gaze your way. his eyes flick to your runny nose, chapped lips and wrinkled sleeping clothes.
"you're sick." brilliant observation. truly a man worth his sniper position.
"yes. i'm quite-" your words come to settle behind your clenched teeth as you watch him dig into his front pockets and pull out crinkled tea bags. and open your cabinets because now you're the visitor and he the (g)host.
you'd rather drink battery acid than another one of his brews. it made your eyes prick with tears, burned as it went down, warmed your chest. it was lukewarm when you drank it.
(he clears up a space on your foot table, and by clear up i mean use an arm to shove everything off the edge so he can continue to clean his weapons. has your couch always been that small?)
#he still doesn't talk#just listens to you mouth breath#what puts you to sleep that night is the constant clicking of metal against your wooden table#the next night it's his tongue#SORRY HAD TO SAY IT#ITS PURELY FACT#also mr. lieutenant sir can you let me sleep i am so tired and not everyone has incredible stamina like you do#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley
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CLAYTON BERESFORD HEADCANONS 💲
TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read
💲Clayton Beresford who didn't really trust you at all in the beginning (clear trust issues after Sam). When he started developing feelings for you, he'd be very distant with them. Not really sure how to react, he takes a break from seeing you to give himself time and understand what is going on with him. But after he concluded that he misses you and really likes you, he'd decide to talk to you about his feelings. Giving you a chance, but most importantly, giving himself a chance to love again
💲Clayton Beresford who takes things slow; trying to make sure you're not using him for money
💲Clayton Beresford who quickly becomes obsessed with you. He could just watch you do anything and his eyes would have this spark that only you could bring out
💲Clayton Beresford who loves to watch you get ready; whenever it's dressing up, doing makeup, he absolutely loves it. The way you got so focused on the task was so alluring for him; your narrowed brows, bit lower lip
💲Clayton Beresford who would help you put necklaces, not being able to stop himself from planting gentle kisses on your exposed neck
💲Clayton Beresford who obviously loves to spoil you in every way he could come up with. He'd buy you stuff that you're interested in; like jewellery, dresses, books you enjoy reading, etc. But he'd try his best to do gifts himself as well; in spare time or when he's taking a break from work he'd try to do some origami (his favorite is rose since his mother taught him how to do it when he was a kid) or would try to learn to cook different things for you, almost burning the kitchen since he's not the best chef
💲Clayton Beresford who's taking care of you especially when you're on your period. Would make sure you're all comfortable, have all things near you so you don't have to move too much, having in mind how painful cramps can get. He'd definitely snuggle up to you, pampering you with kisses while his hands carefully move over your body, trying to not cause any sharp pain. And if you'd have cravings he'd try to satisfy them too, even the weirdest ones
💲Clayton Beresford who's sometimes giving you his credit card, trusting you to not spend all of his money
💲Clayton Beresford who's always eager to watch your little fashion show in your new clothes you've bought
💲Clayton Beresford who can't help but give you a light smack on your butt whenever you bend down. Or just wraps his arms around your waist from behind to rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you do whatever you did
💲Clayton Beresford who has a habit to cook with you and get silly like little kids. Mostly you two would end up with flour on your cheeks and clothes
💲Clayton Beresford who seeks comfort from you, opening about his traumatic experience he had during the surgery. He'd often feel down as his mind drifts back to his mother. But to not be alone, he'd come to you. At first he'd just ask if he could hug you and when you'd give him permission to, he'd burry his face in your neck, savouring your scent that always managed to calm him down
💲Clayton Beresford who can't go out of bed without having at least five minutes of cuddles and morning talk with you or having a little love making; he'd mostly thrust into you from behind, groaning in his morning, raspy voice against your neck, kissing it softly;
💲Clayton Beresford who loves to show you off (only if you're comfortable with it). Will take you to different meetings and events, having his hand on your waist or lower back
💲Clayton Beresford who wants to make you happy everyday since you're making him the happiest he could ever be
💲Clayton Beresford who loves when you cuddle to him
💲Clayton Beresford who's work ends the first sec you walk into his office. Knowing that you're his best distraction
💲Clayton Beresford who's a soft dom;
"Fuck, I could stay in you for hours" he intensived his thrusts, making you moan even louder
"Mh-- can't more.. s'too much clay" you mewl, your eyes barely open from such an amazing feeling he was able to provide you
"C'mon sweetheart..you can take it, know you can.." he gasped out, his body trembling as he felt the first waves of pleasure coursing through him.
💲Clayton Beresford who can't keep his hands off you after he comes back from meetings/events that lasted few days;
his lips left kisses all over your neck as you felt his long fingers go down to brush against your already soaked panties. He stopped kissing you, making your cheeks burn in heat even more "You're so wet for me..." he broke the silence that made you hold your breath "such a needy girl, you've been waiting all day, huh?"
"Damn it... need to be inside of you more..." He moved his hips in an attempt to find a deeper angle. His hands moved down to squeeze your hips as he thrust harder, pushing against the tight muscles of your core
"Shit... can't hold back... you're so damn tight..." He clenched his teeth and continued to thrust to reach his peak and hopefully send you over the edge of your own ecstacy
💲Clayton Beresford who bends you over his desk, completely not caring about the papers that can fold or tear;
"Now, now..you're gonna be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth closed, hm? We don't want all my employees to hear how I'm gonna tear you apart, do we pretty girl?"
💲Clayton Beresford who takes his time with you. Even if he's a dom he wouldn't do something you don't want or don't feel comfortable with, since he sees sex as something both sides should enjoy/feel good with and not only one
"That's it baby, tell me how good it feels to have such a generous man inside of you." Clayton's lips curl into a breathless smirk as his thrusts become more deliberate yet rough as you mewl and moan in answer
💲Clayton Beresford who can't help but make love to you (that's a very polite way to call it) when you have a new dress on. There's just something about it that makes him go nuts; your face all twisted in pleasure when he fights the urge to rip the material off;
"You will like it even more when I rip it off," he groaned, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he reached out to feel the fabric between his slim fingers to tear the dress off your body. Causing a helpless whine leave your mouth while your hands tried to push his away. You liked this dress way too much to let him just rip it off like this
"Shh..it's just a dress..I'll buy you another one, the same..promise-- could even buy you more if you wanted"
(or when you beg him to get rid of the dress, too impatient at his long foreplay)
"Please clay...just--take it off.." you whine
"As you wish, sweetheart" he murmurs with a proud smile, pleasant how you've became such a mess underneath him so easily "But trust me when I say that once I've taken off every stitch of clothing from your gorgeous body, I won't be able to stop myself from taking you again and again..until you're nothing but a pretty little mess in my arms"
💲Clayton Beresford who slips his hands under your shirt whenever he's holding you from behind
💲Clayton Beresford who makes sure you understand your worth and see how special/beautiful you are
💲Clayton Beresford who will buy you gifts without the occasion
💲Clayton Beresford who loves the simple things you two do together that he had never done before. Like going grocery shopping (he'd look all around as if he had never seen a grocery shop before and in general would look lost and wouldn't leave your side), playing board games, going to the zoo, using a train (he'd look lost as hell)
💲Clayton Beresford who enjoyed spending time with your family since you had aunts, cousins, grandparents, etc. You just had everything he didn't have anymore and as much as it sometimes pained him, there was something calming to see you and other people from your family to interact in such close way
💲Clayton Beresford who loves how sweet you are. Always giving him kisses here and there, cuddling to him, giving him small gifts you did yourself or bought for him. Or just in general, cause he sees you as his special girl. How you've showed him the love he thought he won't ever experience again, gave him his happy ending- you're just his special, miracle girl he'd love forever
TAG LIST: @kingdomhate (missing you love) @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt
(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)
#anakin#anakin skywalker#hayden christensen#bunny's work#star wars#clayton beresford#clayton#clayton beresford x reader#clayton beresford smut#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker x reader#hayden x reader#awake movie#clayton x female reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen x reader#haydenchristensen#hayden christensen fluff#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker smut#clay beresford smut#clay beresford x reader smut#smut#star wars headcanons#headcanon#im back#its been like.. what? four years..?
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Alexia Putellas, “just let me in and accept I’m not going anywhere”, reader’s kitchen
a.putellas II cross the line
you grunted as you worked the dough, sleeves rolled up to your elbows and sweatshirt dotted with flour as you punched, rolled and kneaded it across the board.
with a sigh you grabbed your rolling pin, flattening it before repeating the actions all over again, oven chiming to alert you that it had finally pre heated.
repeating the routine twice over you picked it up and dropped it into a shallow pan, sprinkling the foccacia with oil and massaging it in, gently prodding in holes and finishing it off with some rosemary and seasalt.
you sighed with relief as you carefully closed the oven door, rolling your shoulders and neck which were heavy with tension, making a mental note to con your girlfriend into giving you a massage later not that it often took much to convince her to get her hands on you.
a hot shower helped to melt away a little of the tension, and a thorough washing of your hair helped you to feel like a human being again and not a bag of flour.
you left your skin care for before bed and got changed into a pair of your girlfriends national team shorts and a shirt so large the two of you could have fit into it.
you were happy with how the bread was progressing, your first timer going off as you set multiple other alarms, knowing this next block of time was the most crucial.
baking had always been an escape for you, something taught to you by your grandma and passed down, your sundays spent at her house learning all her tips and tricks while your mum worked her second job to keep a roof over your head.
you'd first met alexia when she was in london for a nike shoot, the photographer a close friend you were temping for while on break from university.
there was a miscommunication from her team which lead to a somewhat heated conversation you could see she felt uncomfortable about, hanging awkwardly to the side while her agent lead the charge.
you'd stepped in and asked if she'd liked a coffee, assuring you were doing a run anyway and that it was no bother to grab her one on the way. she'd accepted but bargained she had to come with you, a little reserved at first but eventually the two of you got to talking.
and as everyone says, the rest was history.
you heard alexia's keys jimmy with the lock, front door popping open as her footsteps sounded in the hall, a small grunt as she wrestled off her trainers and a gentle thump of her gym bag hitting the floor.
"hola mi amor." you greeted with a warm smile, meeting her halfway in a tight hug, laughing as she exhaled tiredly into your neck making you squirm and poke at her sides.
"are you baking?" she mumbled into your shoulder, hunched over as you hummed and slipped a hand down the collar of her top, scratching gently at the base of her neck.
"stop that!" you laughed as once more she exhaled, pushing her away and ignoring her whine of annoyance as you did so. "i have not seen you all day." your girlfriend complained with a slight pout, hands tugging at the back of your shirt.
"you've been gone for three hours!" you rolled your eyes playfully, spinning away from her grabby hands and back into the kitchen. "exactly! tal tortura." alexia huffed, lips still turned downward into an annoyed pout.
"pobre bebé." you mocked as her eyes narrowed but once again you dodged her reaching for you. "i'm baking." you warned with a coy smile, your girlfriend throwing her head back with a dramatic groan as if she'd just been shot.
"the bread does not need your attention princesa, i do." alexia tried to follow after you but grunted as your hand shot out stopping her in her tracks. "nice try putellas, you know the rules." you warned, booping her nose making her scowl.
"this line-" you trailed your finger from the counter to the stove. "-is not to be crossed." you wagged your finger at her. "esta es una regla estúpida!" the footballer argued, still hovering right on the line.
"it isn't a stupid rule when you cook and i am not allowed past it, is it?" you challenged, hands on hips and raised eyebrows. early on in your relationship you and alexia established you both adored the use of the kitchen, only there was just one small problem.
you both hated sharing that space with someone else, even one another.
so the line rule was implemented to save future arguments, and most of the time it worked a charm. however your girlfriend was a passionate woman and fiercely stubborn, and when she wanted something there wasn't much that could stand successfully in her way.
"ale please i spent so long working on this bread i really need it to be perfect!" you sighed as her hand shot out and grabbed your top pulling you over the line, nose tucking into your neck as gentle kisses were fanned across the skin.
"such a perfectionist." your girlfriend teased quietly, silencing your quip back as she pressed her lips properly against yours, the timer going off in the background.
"no no not yet, little more cariño por favor." alexia purred, strong toned arms wrapping around your hips as she held your body captive, back pressed to her front and lips peppering kisses across your neck.
"ale!" you sighed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she kissed a little less sweetly, teeth grazing your shoulder. "mm?" she hummed, large hands squeezing your hips as your eyes opened and you spotted the oven, brought back down to earth.
"no!" you groaned, pushing against her and catching her off guard as she stumbled and you darted back into the kitchen. you ignored her complaining about a lack of attention as you sprayed the top of your bread with a spray bottle of oil.
"vale you fussed over your bread, my turn." alexia stomped her foot not unlike a child throwing a tantrum making you smile in amusement. "later, the bread is almost done amor be patient." you winked, bending down to peer through the glass of your oven.
"so i cannot cross the line, sí?" alexia clarified as you hummed, not thinking much of it. though as you turned around, that all changed. "alexia!" you laughed in disbelief seeing her pulling herself up onto the counter.
you watched on as she spun her body and shuffled forward slightly, dropping to the ground with a wolfish grin. "did not cross the line." she took a deep bow as you rolled your eyes. "you are so-" you started to lecture as her grin grew.
"no no." her finger pushed against your lips silencing you as you raised an eyebrow. "just let me in and accept i'm not going anywhere princesa." your girlfriend smiled cockily, drawing your body closer into hers.
"that is because you are so stubb-" you started, words swallowed by the rosy pink lips which pressed against yours, breath hitching as her hands slid around your hips and cheekily squeezed at your ass, alexia using this to slip her tongue into your mouth.
you resisted the urge to moan as her hands pinched and squeezed, paying all of your body just as much attention as your mouth and sending your head into a spin.
but then, you smelled it and pushed away, spinning around and dropping to the oven.
"putellas if this bread is burnt you're sleeping outside for a week!"
#woso community#woso#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso blurbs#woso imagine
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Part 3 for mean!Simon
Content: Consensual dom/sub between Simon and Johnny; dubcon interactions with reader and Johnny. Simon is a dick per usual.
When Johnny comes home, the first thing Simon does is set him back to rights. He's been gone a bit, long enough to need a refresher on how things are done. Just in case he's gotten some silly ideas about who calls the shots.
So once he's through the door, squeezed a little "oof" out of you, and stuck his tongue down your throat, Simon hauls him off for a "reintroduction."
Simon gets him off fully-clothed, whining and panting on his boot, before he's satisfied that Johnny's not forgotten any of his manners. He's rewarded by getting to suck Simon's cock unguided for a little while, drooling and moaning and choking himself to tears. It makes such a pretty sight, Simon is almost tempted to save his discipline for another time.
Almost.
"Up."
Johnny's flushed face twists with dismay, but he drags himself away.
"What have I always told you about your toys, hm?"
Cock-drunk, it takes Johnny a moment to understand the question and develop an answer.
"Tha' I hafta earn 'em," Johnny answers, voice ruined.
Simon hums, carding his fingers through Johnny's sweat-soaked hair.
"And to keep 'em?" Simon prompts.
"Take care of 'em."
Such a smart, well-trained boy... mostly.
He yelps as Simon twists his fingers into his mohawk and wrenches his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his bobbing throat.
"Then you want to explain what the fuck you've been doing with that pretty pussy I got you?"
Johnny's blinks, sputters. But it's obvious he doesn't understand what Simon means or why he's in trouble. Simon sighs in disappointment, knowing that'll just upset Johnny more.
"'S my fault, I s'pose. Thought you were ready." He shakes his head, eases his grip on Johnny's hair. "Thought you knew how to take care of such a nice toy."
He remembers the unmarked skin of your plush thighs, your round ass. Tsks and shakes his head, watching Johnny paw wordlessly, pleadingly, at his pants.
"M'sorry, sir," Johnny whimpers, puffy bottom lip wobbling. "M'sorry, I'll do better."
"Fuckin' right you will," Simon growls, curling a hand around his vulnerable throat. "Because you're not getting her back 'til I've taught you better. Understand?"
Johnny only just bites back a whine. But he sees the way Simon's eyes narrow and quickly nods, leaning into the hand on his throat, body going lax in submission.
"Yessir," he slurs. "Understood."
Simon strokes his thumb over Johnny's pulse, rumbling with approval. "Atta boy. Your first lesson: if you don't mark something as yours, it's free for the taking."
He hauls Johnny up and throws him face down on the bed.
"Let's begin."
--
By the time he's done with Johnny, the sun has gone down and the house smells like food.
It seems you haven't been idle while they've been preoccupied. Dinner is simmering on the stove and you're just finished turning the dishwasher over.
You turn as Johnny enters the kitchen, expression carefully neutral when you notice the slight limp in his step and the new, dark marks on his neck. He comes right up to you, slinging his arms around your waist and burrowing into your hair.
"Missed you, bonnie," he sighs. "Didnae say so earlier in all the excitement."
From the doorway, Simon watches you blink and carefully circle your arms around him in return. But your body stays rigid, slanted ever so slightly away. Would maybe even be leaning back if not for the counter against your spine.
"It's alright, I um... I got it from the kiss," you assure, patting his shoulder.
He nuzzles in a bit and you seem curious, confused. "Everything okay, Johnny?"
"Aye, jus'... LT says I cannae play with you for a while."
Your eyes dart to Simon, going big and nervous when you realize he's observing.
"Ah. W-well... uh, we can worry about that later, right?" you soothe, gently pulling away to look him in the eyes. He's bit sniffly still, even though Simon made sure he was good after "lesson." You just seem to comfort him like a favored stuffy. "Let's get a proper meal in you for now."
Johnny nods, clutching onto yours hand as you lead him around the kitchen. Collecting serving bowls, spoons, ladling out stew in generous portions - at least for two of the servings - all with one free hand.
Johnny is quiet, drowsy. You keep glancing at him, but he only sways into you whenever you stop moving, rubbing his cheek against yours.
"Havnae been takin' care of you right," he mumbles as you're reaching for tumblers from the cabinet. "LT is gonnae teach me better, though."
You freeze, blood draining from your pretty face. Your eyes flick fearfully to Simon, right where you last saw him. He doesn't so much as twitch, staring you down until you visibly swallow and turn away. There's a little tremble to your hand now as you finish getting the glasses.
"That should be... interesting," you manage. "Ready to eat?"
"Aye, m'hungry. Missed your cooking."
You muster up a shaky smile and gently hand him a bowl of stew.
"That's good to hear, Johnny. C'mon, before it gets cold."
You send him off to the dining table. In his absence, you draw in a deep breath. Then pour Simon a glass of bourbon, taking both it, and his bowl of stew to his customary spot at the head of the dinner table.
He stalks from his place in the kitchen doorway, purposefully crossing you at the corner so that you're forced to flatten yourself against the wall and sidestep. While he seats himself, he hears you getting yourself a water, collecting your own bowl.
When you return, you try to sit next to Johnny as usual, who's sat at Simon's right. This way, he acts as a buffer between you two. But Simon clicks his tongue and you pause, turning to him with a curious blink.
"Over here." He gestures to his left side, putting you across from Johnny.
"Oh... um, okay."
You shuffle around to the other side, still shaky as you set your bowl down and take a seat. Simon watches you for a long moment as you studiously avoid his gaze, eyes on your water glass.
"This is your spot from now on. Understood?" he asks.
You tilt your head enough to make it obvious you're answering him. "Yes, sir."
"Look at me when you answer," he corrects.
You twitch a bit, shift uncomfortably as you force your eyes to look at his chest.
"Yes, sir," you repeat, soft and conciliatory."
"Atta girl," he gruffs. "Now fuckin' eat, the both of you."
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Come With Us and You Will See
Valkyrie's Halloween parties always brought out the lust in everyone. But between you, Wanda, and Natasha- you didn't share well. What happens when things get a little bit too spicy for your jealous ass to handle?
AN: Happy early Halloweenie, folks! I got a little carried away, so have fun!
18+ ONLY
TW: porn with plot, implied orgy, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, enchanted strap, slight degradation, WandaNat, spanking, multiple orgasms, sub/dom dynamic... yeahhh lemme know if I missed something XD
9.9K WORD COUNT
The Ghouls All Came From Their Humble Abodes
In the quiet, suburban neighborhood, a quaint house with a meticulously trimmed lawn stood out from the rest. It was the home of Natasha and Wanda, two middle-aged women with a penchant for the dramatic. They lived a life of vibrant colors and boundless imagination, turning every mundane event into an opportunity for celebration. Inside, the walls were adorned with paintings that whispered of distant lands, and the air had the scent of exotic spices, hinting at Natasha's love for cooking. Wanda, on the other hand, had a green thumb that could coax even the most stubborn of plants into a blooming pattern of life.
You had been a pleasant surprise to thier mundane routine. Young and full of life, you brought a spark to their lives that had been missing since their youth. They had found in you a muse, a playmate, and a confidante all rolled into one. The three of you had been inseparable since the fateful night you'd stumbled into Natasha's art gallery, lost in the rain, and she had offered you shelter.
The older women showed you another level of intimacy that you had only ever dreamed of- and in return, you gave them the orgasms they had been craving. They had taught you the art of seduction, whispering sweet nothings in Russian accents that made your toes curl, and your cheeks flush. Your days were filled with laughter, passion, and the gentle thrill of discovery as you learned the intricacies of their desires.
Tonight, you were destined for an adults-only costume party. Valkyrie, one of the trusted confidantes of your lovers, promised a night of revelry that would be unforgettable. You knew that the two women who had held your heart captive for the last 10 months were going to pull out all the stops for Halloween. The anticipation had been building all week, with Natasha and Wanda teasing you with glimpses of their costumes that grew more risque with each day.
In return, you made sure to let thier anticipation build as they tried to get you to reveal your costume. You had kept it a secret, smiling mischievously each time they asked, only saying that it was going to be something that would make their jaws drop. As the night of the party grew closer, the house buzzed with excitement.
You dusted your face, neck, and chest with a pale setting powder- dulling your skin tone to a milky white before applying some darker makeup to accentuate your already chiseled features. That was one thing that Wanda and Natasha both made sure to compliment you regularly about- how well you took care of yourself and your physique. The costume you've chosen was a nod to the grim reaper- a sleek black robe that clung to your broad shoulders and tapered to your waist, with a silver cane-sized scythe resting against the wall. The hood was drawn back, exposing your hair freshly dyed hair slicked back.
The darkness surrounding your eyes was contrasted by the contacts you chose to wear, and your chest was almost bare underneath, the robe was carefully fashioned to prevent your chest from being too revealed. You chose a simple pinstriped waistcoat and slacks, hiding the surprise you recently purchased for your two lovers.
As you stepped into the living room, Natasha and Wanda were waiting, their eyes on each other as they danced to some music in the living room, waiting for you to come downstairs. You silently leaned against the archway into the room, leaning with your cane in your hand. Not wanting to disrupt the moment, you watched them move in tandem, thier years of marriage apparent in how they moved as one.
Natasha, dressed as a sultry vampiress, had her hair in curls that cascaded down her shoulders, a crimson dress that hugged her curves and showcased her ample cleavage, and a necklace of gleaming black pearls around her neck. Her lips were a deep shade of red, matching the color of her fingernails and the tips of her sharp, vampiric teeth that peeked out when she smiled. Red was always her color, and any time she wore it, you made sure to make her aware- often, the blush you would cause rivaling the crimson she was adorned in.
Wanda, on the other hand, had chosen a more enigmatic costume. Her long, brown hair was swept into an elegant updo, with a few loose strands framing her face. She was dressed as a fortune teller, complete with a sheer shawl draped over her shoulders and a crystal-laden neckline that drew attention to her piercing green eyes. Her dress was a deep, mysterious green that swirled around her legs as she danced, hinting at the secrets she was known to keep.
The women together were sure to stop any show, a breathtaking mixture of elegance and seductiveness that sent your pulse racing every time you saw them. As they caught sight of you, the music seemed to pause for a moment. Natasha's eyes widened with a predatory glint, and Wanda's lips curled into a knowing smile. They had both chosen costumes that left little to the imagination, but it was your transformation that truly stole their breath away.
Wanda broke free of Natasha's grasp, seemingly floating in your direction. "Detka," she purred, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "you look absolutely... ravishing!"
Natasha stepped closer, her vampire cape billowing around her as she did so. "You've truly outdone yourself this time," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "The Grim Reaper has never looked so... alive, Malysh."
You couldn't help but chuckle, the sound echoing through the hallway as you twirled the scythe in your hand. "I had to match your level of drama," you replied, your gaze flicking between them.
Natasha sailed towards you, her fingertips grazing over the fabric of your costume. "But, my love," she whispered, her breath hot against your neck, "you've gone above and beyond." Her eyes danced with mischief as she leaned closer, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "I can't wait to see what kind of mischief the three of us will get into tonight." Wanda's fingers danced along the exposed skin of your chest, leaving a lingering kiss on your collarbone before you guided them toward the door.
As you stepped into the night, the cool autumn air kissing your skin, Natasha and Wanda linked arms with you, their laughter a harmonious melody that filled the quiet streets. The party was already in full swing when you arrived at Valkyrie's, the throb of music and the cacophony of voices spilling out from the open windows. The house itself was transformed into a haunted mansion, complete with cobwebs, flickering lights, and an eerie fog that danced along the ground.
The moment you entered the party, all eyes turned towards the three of you. The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with guests dressed in various costumes that ranged from playful to downright terrifying, but all in varying levels of sinful. But it was Natasha and Wanda who truly stole the show. Their allure was magnetic, and the way they looked at you was nothing short of possessive. You felt a thrill of excitement and a hint of pride knowing you were the center of their universe.
Valkyrie, dressed as a scantily clad Viking queen, spotted you from across the room. She raised her goblet in a toast, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Welcome, my lovelies!" she bellowed, her strong voice cutting through the din. She wove through the crowd, her skirt swishing around her powerful legs. "You've outdone yourselves! Natasha, Wanda, your costumes are absolutely... divine," she said with a knowing wink, kissing them on the cheek. "And... Y/N, you look... stunning, my dear." Val leaned in to kiss your cheek but pecked a little too close to your mouth for comfort. You felt Wanda's grip on your arm tighten slightly, never having been a fan of how much Val took a liking to you.
The party was a whirlwind of activity. Enchanting witches and warlocks mingled with ghosts and beguiling goblins, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and food as the gathering was in full swing. Dancing bodies were everywhere, everyone dressed in a sexy costume of some sort, and you were sure that by the end of this party, most costumes would be discarded and forgotten on the floor. Val's parties always seemed to end that way.
You graciously accepted compliments and sipped from the goblet that was filled for you, feeling the buzz of alcohol melding with the electricity in the air. You, Nat, and Wanda had split up, floating from group to group and mingling on your own, compliments and praises being rained down on the three of you separately as well as together. The night was a blur of laughter and whispered conversations, of secrets shared and glances exchanged that promised much more than simple pleasantries. Eventually, Val made her way up to a makeshift stage in the center of the room, clearing her throat into a microphone to gain everyone's attention.
"Welcome, my dear guests, to the most wickedly enchanting night of the year!" she announced, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Now, as per tradition, we shall begin the costume contest!" There was a rush of cheers and claps as the lights dimmed, and a spotlight was directed towards the stage as the rest of the lights dimmed. You glanced around the room, Noticing that Nat and Wanda had made thier way back to each other and were staring at you expectantly from across the room. You shot them a cheeky wink before redirecting your attention, glancing around the room at all the costumes before you.
You laughed as Steve, dressed as a Chippendale Zombie, struggled to direct the spotlight where he wanted it. The room was a masquerade of shadows, clapping, and cheers as Steve guided the light to people who had voted to compete against one another. The costumes were a mix of pop culture references and old-school horror classics, each one more elaborate than the last.
Valkyrie announced each participant with flair, her voice resonating with the joy of the evening. Wand and Natasha both had been selected and were standing on opposite ends of the stage. "And now, for the pièce de résistance," Valkyrie said, her eyes locking onto you, "our very own, sexy as hell, pun intended, Grim Reaper, Y/N!" The spotlight found you, and the room fell silent, save for the dull roar of the classic Halloween music.
You took a sip from your goblet, feeling the warmth spread through your chest as you made your way to the stage, the silver scythe glinting under the lights. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, all eyes on you as you moved with a grace that belied your size. The scythe was surprisingly light, and you twirled it in one hand as you climbed the stairs with a dramatic flair, feeling every eye in the room on you.
You began to walk to Wanda, but Val pulled you towards her at center stage.
"Ah, ah," she said with a playful shake of her head, "let's get a good look at all our contestants before the final reveal of our winners." she winked at you, spinning you around before looping her arm with yours. You knew this was a dangerous game- Wanda and Natasha both had dark looks adorning thier features. They didn't like sharing you, not even in jest. And the feeling was mutual. The women caught everyone's eye no matter where you were, and they often poked at your jealousy. Even when the three of you came to Val's parties, you would only entertain the thought of the two women.
Others had tried to break into your threesomes before but never succeeded. The tension between you three was always palpable, a dance of desire and territorial claim. Val knew the rules and had always respected them, but tonight, she was pushing the boundaries with her playful flirting.
Wanda's eyes narrowed as she watched you with Val, her hand tightening around her crystal ball. Natasha's smile was forced, the vampiric fangs she wore glinting in the light as she took a sip from her goblet. The room grew hot with unspoken emotions, a silent battle of wills playing out.
The music picked up tempo as you watched Natasha strut across the stage, her crimson dress fluttering like the wings of a bat in the moonlight. She stopped in front of Wanda and did a dramatic twirl, her vampiric teeth gleaming as she sunk them into her bottom lip. Wanda, ever the performer, played along, her eyes never leaving yours as Natasha approached her, the scent of the incense Natasha had picked up at the local metaphysical shop swirling around her like a seductive fog.
Natasha leaned in, grasping Wanda by the waist and tiling her backward, exposing the brunette's neck. She leaned in, biting it gently, leaving an imprint of the fake teeth she had been wearing all night. The crowd gasped, but you knew it was all for show. Wanda's eyes never left yours as Natasha did this, a silent challenge dancing within their emerald depths. You felt your heart rate spike, a thrill of excitement and desire coursing through your veins. You tilted your head, almost in a pompous way, a seductive smirk gracing your features.
Your resolve waivered, however, when Val made her way over to the couple- grasping the back of Natasha's neck and whispering something in her ear before pulling Wanda closer, almost kissing her. They knew you would hate this, your hatred of watching someone commandeer them the way you usually did was not foreign to them. And yet, as Natasha's eyes sparkled with mischief, Wanda's with a hint of anger, you felt your desire flare up, a thrill of jealousy turning your cheeks hot.
You sucked in a sharp breath, shooting them both a pointed stare before turning your attention back to the party at hand. Val stalked back to you, leaning into your frame as she began to announce the 4th, 3rd, and 2nd place winners. Your gaze kept wandering over to Nat and Wanda, watching the tension build between them. You felt the anticipation in the air as the music grew more intense, and Val prepared to announce the winning contestant while her hands wandered all over your clothed chest.
The room was alight with whispers and guesses, the excitement reaching a crescendo as Valkyrie dramatically paused, her hand hovering over the envelope containing the first-place winner's name. "And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for!" she shouted, ripping open the envelope with a flourish. "The grand prize goes to..." She scanned the paper, her eyes flickering with amusement. "The Reaper!"
Val winked at you, leaning in towards your ear. "Don't have too much fun with them," she quipped. "Save some of your lovin' for the rest of us." Her words were playful, but you felt the underlying tension in the air thicken. You watched as she walked over to the two women, leaning in and kissing Natasha passionately before turning her attention to Wanda.
You felt your blood boil at Val's audacity, she knew better than to try and stake any claim to them without permission. That had always been the rule of these get-togethers. Permission had to be given, and for you three, it was never granted.
As Val pulled away from Wanda, the fortune teller's eyes flickered to yours, the emerald depths swirling with a mix of anger and arousal. Natasha's gaze was equally intense, the hunger in her eyes a silent declaration of war. You stepped forward, the silver scythe gliding through the air as you approached the stage. The crowd parted, creating a path for you, their whispers a symphony of anticipation.
You pushed Val out of the way, staring down the two women with whom you shared the most intimate moments. "Looks like I've got two wayward little souls to collect," you murmured darkly, the corners of your mouth curling up in a sinister smile. The crowd hushed, sensing the sudden shift in the room's dynamic. Natasha visibly gulped at how dark your aura became while Wanda stood with her legs crossed, her eyes dilated with lust at your possessiveness.
You stepped closer to Natasha, your hand reaching up to remove the cape from her shoulders. She trembled under your touch, the fabric sliding off with ease, revealing her crimson dress. "I think it's time for my prize," you said, your voice low and filled with promise. Your hand slid down her arm, the fabric of your glove sending a shiver down her spine as you gently pulled her closer. You leaned in, your breath hot on her neck. "You know what happens to those who don't respect the rules of the game."
She released a breathy gasp, goosebumps erupting where your breath touched her skin. You suddenly pulled away, turning to Wanda, who was further gone than her wife.
"And you, darling..." you glared at the darkened eyes of your other lover, stepping towards her shivering frame. "Are you such an impatient little whore that you have to stand there, legs crossed, to get the friction you want?" You whispered in Wanda's ear, her body visibly responding to your words. "Tell me, Wanda," you began, raising your hand to her neck as you tilted her head, making Natasha's bite mark stand out in the dim light. "Do you think that you should be...punished?" your inflection on the punishment caused a moan to escape her, her eyes pinched shut.
Without waiting for a response, you leaned in and claimed her mouth, your teeth grazing her bottom lip as Natasha watched with a mix of jealousy and arousal. The crowd had gone silent, the music now nothing but a faint background to the scene unfolding on stage. You felt Natasha's eyes on you, her desire palpable. You knew it was a dance you had to perform, a dance of power and submission that the three of you had perfected over the months.
You pulled away, noting that others in the party had started to strip thier partners for the night in various states of intimacy while others watched the three of you. "I think we need to show everyone who you two belong to." You commanded between the two, your grip tightening on Wanda's hip and Natasha's arm. You didn't have to say it out loud; they knew the score.
"I have a surprise for the two of you," you said with a wicked smile as you led Natasha and Wanda to the center of the stage, the crowd that had made its way up part for you like the Red Sea. You had planned this moment for weeks, ever since you heard about the party. You had bought something special for them, a costume that would not only blow their minds but also cement your dominance over them for the rest of the night.
The lights grew dimmer, and the music slowed to a seductive rhythm as if the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation. You sat on the throne that was perched on the highest point of the stage, grasping Natasha by the back of her neck and pulling her in for a searing kiss. You could hear Wanda moan next to you, the passion between the three of you always making the other weak. The audience watched, enraptured by the raw intimacy playing out before them.
You broke the kiss, a smirk playing on your lips as you looked Natasha in the eyes, the intensity of the moment causing her pupils to dilate. "Strip for me," you murmured, your voice low and demanding. The crowd's anticipation grew as Natasha obeyed, her hands moving to the neckline of her crimson dress. She made a show of it as she peeled it away from her body, revealing her full, round breasts, the fabric clinging to her skin for a brief moment before it fell to the floor. Her body was a canvas of desire, already painted with the sweat of the dance and the anticipation of the night ahead as she sat on the right-hand arm of your current seat.
You turned your attention to Wanda, who was seated on the other arm of the throne, reaching up and pulling her down roughly, causing her to fall to her knees in front of you. Her eyes never left yours as you untied the laces of her fortune teller's top, revealing the taut, toned stomach and the lacy lingerie that you knew would make Natasha's mouth water. You watched as Natasha's gaze roved over Wanda's exposed flesh, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she took in the sight.
"Wanda," you directed, watching her suck her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Take it off," you ordered, your voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to echo through the room. The fortune teller's eyes smoldered with need as she obeyed, her top falling away and exposing the matching crimson bra beneath. The crowd's whispers grew louder, a symphony of desire and excitement that only fueled your own.
Before you knew it, Wanda was nude on her knees in front of you, and Natasha was bare on your right hand, her own hands wandering over your partially exposed chest. The crowd's whispers grew to a murmur of appreciation, the room a sea of lustful energy. You leaned back on the throne, your eyes taking in the beauty of your lovers, feeling like the king of the world.
"Now," you began, your voice has become deeper and raspier with lust. You grasped one of Natasha's hands, guiding it down towards the newest addition to your repertoire. You motioned for Wanda to lean in, and she did so diligently, resting her cheek on your upper thigh as she watched Natasha's hand as she raked her own up and down your inner thigh. "I want to show you what I've got for you," you whispered, your free hand reaching out and raking through the brunette's hair.
Natasha took the hint, reaching down to the apex of your thighs, feeling the girth that rests between your toned thighs. You looked up as she moaned at the discovery, her breathing becoming audibly heavier. You watched as Natasha's hand began to stroke the length of your fake cock, her eyes never leaving yours as she did so, a silent question in them. You nodded, giving her the go-ahead, and she leaned down, unzipping the fly of your slacks as Wanda unbuckled your belt.
The room was a haze of desire as Natasha pulled out the strap-on you had hidden beneath your costume. It was a sleek, black, and realistic dildo, a symbol of power and dominance in the bedroom that you wanted to use with the women after your first meaningful night together. The crowd watched with bated breath as Natasha held it up, her eyes gleaming with excitement and a hint of trepidation. Wanda looked up at you with a mix of excitement and fear, the thrill of the unknown sparking a fire within her that you hadn't seen in quite some time. There was a red glint in Wanda's eyes as she gazed up and down the length of the toy.
You groaned as Natasha spit onto the tip of the toy, her deft hand working it up and down as Wanda kissed the shaft, as well as your stomach and the exposed portions of your thighs. They were working you to a high quickly, the feeling almost like you had a pulsing cock. The room's anticipation grew as Nat leaned back, placing the toy against her mouth, her eyes locked on yours. She sucked on it, her tongue swirling around the head before she pulled away, leaving it glistening with her saliva.
"I think that someone needs to be punished, sweet girl." You grasp Natasha's chin, gazing into her hazy eyes. They widen when she realizes that you're talking to her. You gesture to Wanda, still on her knees, her eyes dark with want. "Take your punishment," you murmur, and she nods, eager for whatever you have in store for her. "And you," you send a pointed command to the brunette waiting at your side. "Sit still and watch like the good girl I know you are. You know what happens if you don't."
A sneering smile crept across your features as she nodded her head rapidly. "Good girl, Wands. Behave like that, and maybe I'll reward you instead." The room watched in anticipation as Natasha began to work the strap-on around your waist, her hands shaking with excitement as her mouth wrapped around the tip. You could almost swear that it felt like the member was attached, but you chalked it up to the passion of the moment and how good the two women before you looked on thier knees for you.
Natasha continued her relentless assault on the toy that was wrapped around your hips, effectively gagging herself as she prodded the back of her throat with your toy. Wanda's eyes were glued to the scene, her mouth watering at the thought of what was to come. You leaned back, your hand reaching for Natasha's hair, gripping it tightly as you began to rock your hips into her face, the leather of the strap-on creaking with each movement.
The crowd watched with bated breath, the energy of the room palpable as Natasha's moans grew louder around your strap-on, her eyes glazed with lust. You knew she was enjoying this; the power play was a new twist on your usual dynamic, and it was driving her wild. You watched as Wanda's hand slid down her stomach, her fingers delving into her wetness as she watched Natasha's face contort with pleasure.
The music grew louder, the bass thumping in time with your pulse as Natasha pulled away, gasping for air. You leaned down and whispered something in her ear, your hand still tangled in her hair, and she nodded eagerly. You glanced in Wanda's direction, watching as her fingers delved deep into her heat, the passionate sound of her arousal echoing on the stage as her digits buried themselves deep within her tight pussy.
You couldn't be bothered to correct her behavior with the view of Natasha bent over, ass up before you. "You know what to do," you murmured, and Natasha nodded as you tangled your fingers in her now disheveled hair. She took a step back, her hand reaching around to tease her clit as she inched backward, gasping when you slapped her sodden folds with the length of the toy. She moaned and began to rock her hips towards you as she sought more friction. You smirked, stroking the length attached to your hips as her arousal dripped onto the shaft.
With a swift thrust, you pushed into Natasha, her body jolting at the intrusion. She let out a guttural moan, her back arching as you claimed her before everyone. The sight was intoxicating, Natasha's body stretching to accommodate you as Wanda watched with bated breath. You began to move, a slow rhythm that had Natasha's legs trembling and her eyes rolling back into her head. You reached around her, playing with her clit as you fucked her, her moans echoing through the room, as other partygoers similar sounds of passion echoed throughout Val's living room.
Wanda was now standing beside you, her hand buried in between her thighs as she watched Natasha take your toy like a champ. She leaned in, her breath hot on your neck as she whispered, "Fuck me, please," You felt a jolt of excitement at her words, the desire to see her in action taking hold. You nodded, and the hand you had been using to fondle Natasha's right breast slid over Wanda's drenched folds.
Your fingers slid into her slickness, her juices coating your hand as you began to pump her in sync with the rhythm you had set with Natasha. The two of them were a sight to behold, both moaning and writhing before you. Natasha's eyes found yours in the mirrored wall behind the stage, the reflection showing the intensity of her climb to climax. Wanda's hand had moved to your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she rode the wave of pleasure you had started.
The room had gone quiet, the only sound you could hear now was Natasha's grunts and Wanda's whimpers, the slap of the strap-on against Natasha's ass echoing through the space. You could feel the eyes of the others on you, a mix of envy and arousal that fueled your desire. You picked up the pace, Natasha's moans growing more desperate as she pushed back into you, her hand a blur as she pleasured herself.
Using your other hand, you grabbed Natasha's loose hair, pulling her back so her back was now pressed against your front. You leaned down and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, your teeth grazing the shell of it as you felt her pussy tighten around the strap-on. The crowd was a sea of hungry eyes, the room thick with lust as you brought Natasha to the edge of orgasm. You knew they were all imagining themselves in her place, all craving the feeling of your dominance and the power of the toy that was now buried deep within her.
"You feel so good, baby," you rasped into the redhead's ear, her head lolling backward and resting on your shoulder as you deftly switched your hand from her hair to the front of her neck, squeezing ever so slightly. You honestly felt like you could feel her walls tightening on the shaft of the toy, a sensation that was surprisingly erotic despite the barrier of the strap-on. You watched as Natasha's orgasm grew closer, her body tensing as you whispered sweet, dirty nothings into her ear, your hand tightening on her neck, a silent promise of the crescendo approaching.
Wanda leaned in closer, her breathing ragged as she watched Natasha's face contort in pleasure. "Please," she whispered, "please let me come." You smirked, knowing she was close, her hand moving faster as she chased her release. You released Nat's neck, reaching down with your hand and slapping Natasha's ass hard, the sound resounding through the room, causing her to cry out.
"You both know the rules," you panted out, your tone commanding as they both began to reach thier peak. "You don't come without my permission," you whispered, your grip on Natasha's neck returning as she whimpered around your strap-on. You watched Wanda's movements become more and more erratic, knowing this was a battle of wills she was bound to lose.
As Natasha's body tightened around you, her muscles spasming as she reached climax, you felt the room's energy shift. It was as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for your next move. You pulled out of Natasha with a wet pop, her body slumping forward as you turned to face Wanda, your hand still buried in Natasha's hair.
"Do we want to find out what happens to bad girls who don't follow the rules, malyshka?" You growl at Wanda, knowing she was not far behind the woman who just came without permission. She nodded frantically, her eyes wide with need. You released Natasha, letting her collapse to the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up at you with a mix of relief and regret, knowing a punishment was going to follow.
"Tell me, Wanda," you panted out, trying to catch your breath before you continued. "What do you think her punishment should be?" You didn't wait for Wanda to answer. Instead, you grabbed Natasha by the throat, lifting her to her feet and pushing her to her knees next to the fortune teller. Wanda stepped closer to you, allowing your fingers to slide in deeper as you repeatedly prodded the sensitive spot within her. Your pace picked up, becoming relentless as she withheld her pending orgasm.
"I think..." she began, staring at the sweaty, heaving chest of the woman next to you. "She should watch as you fu...FUCK me," she moaned, her nipples bouncing in front of your face at a tantalizing pace. You smirked, your hand sliding out of her pussy to give her clit a sharp pinch, making her squeal.
"Pretty girls like you don't need to be thinking," you shoved your drenched digits soaked in Wanda's arousal, into Natasha's mouth, forcing her to suck on them as you fucked her mouth with them. "You just need to feel," you murmured, watching Natasha's eyes glaze over with pleasure as she tasted Wanda on you. Wanda's moan grew louder, her hand flying to her own throat, mimicking the grip you had on Natasha's neck, as she felt herself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. "Full. You both just want to be full, don't you? My little sluts."
You turned to Natasha, your hand coming down to her face and slapping it gently, her eyes watering as she nodded eagerly. "Good," you whispered, releasing her throat. "Now, let's get started on that punishment." You turned to Wanda, whose legs were shaking, her eyes begging for release. You stepped back, your cock throbbing with the need to fill one of them. Looking around, you noticed a few pairs of handcuffs resting next to the throne, so you grabbed two of them and quickly handcuffed Natasha's hands to the arm of the throne, leaving her seated next to the chair, unable to pleasure herself.
The crowd was now fully invested, their eyes glued to the three of you as the tension grew. You turned to Wanda, who was still standing before you, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. "You know what you need to do," you said, your voice still low and commanding. She nodded, standing up and straddling your lap, her hands reaching behind her to rest on your thighs as she teased herself with the tip of the strap, her arousal dripping onto your thighs and the length before you.
"Do you feel that, detka?" she leaned in, whispering against your ear. Your gaze shifted to something inquisitive as you stared at her, a mischievous grin sweeping across her features. "I may or may not have..." she moaned as she took the tip and pressed it against herself, just barely penetrating her pussy before lifting herself back off. The feeling seemed to intensify for you, and you weren't sure if it was the performance you three were putting on or the way these two made you feel.
Wand leaned in, her hands now coming to rest on either side of your face. "I want you to feel us, and we want to feel you," she began, kissing you deeply before pulling back. She released your face, guiding the tip back to her soaked entrance as she eased onto the length. "I enchanted the strap, baby," she moaned as you let out a guttural groan at the feeling and the admission.
"Fuck, Wanda," you began, grasping her hips tightly as you helped her take the full length. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt the pleasure rush over you, the room fading away to nothing but the three of you. Wanda's eyes fluttered shut, her breathing heavy as she began to rock her hips back and forth, the chair creaking with each movement.
You watched as Natasha's eyes grew wider, her breaths becoming pants as she watched the two of you. You reached out with your free hand, stroking her cheek as she leaned in, her mouth open and desperate for your kiss. You denied her, pulling away just as she closed the distance, leaving her panting and desperate for more.
"You want a taste of this?" you taunted, your voice thick with desire. "You'll have to behave," you reminded her, your eyes flicking to hers, a promise of punishment in them. Natasha nodded fervently, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to fuck Wanda in earnest. The strap-on sliding in and out of her, the feeling of Wanda's silky smooth walls clenching around you intoxicating.
You reached down with your free hand, stroking Natasha's wet folds, her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned at the feeling of your fingers. The crowd had gone wild, their cheers and catcalls egging you on as you brought Wanda closer and closer to the edge. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her breathing shallow as she neared her climax. You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her body begging for release.
"P...please...." Wanda's voice was a breathless whisper as she bobbed up and down on the strap-on. Her body was trembling with need, her orgasm so close it was palpable in the air. You could feel it in the way she clenched around you, in the way her thighs quivered, and in the desperate little sounds she was making. It was driving you crazy, the desire to give in and let her come was almost too much to bear. But you held firm, your hand now on Natasha's throat, keeping her at bay.
"Please..." you mocked Wanda, egging her to beg more. "Please, what?" Her eyes snapped open, and you knew you had her just where you wanted her. "Please, let me come," she begged, her raspy voice barely above a whisper. You could hear the heaviness of her accent slipping through, a dead giveaway that she was beyond ready.
"That's a good girl, Wands. See, Natasha?" you turned your gaze from the panting mess bouncing up and down on your lap to see the blown eyes of the redhead who had shifted so she was on her knees, her knuckles white as she grasped the arm of the chair. She nodded frantically, acknowledging your statement. "This is what happens when you're a good slut," you whispered, watching Natasha's eyes flicker with desire.
Wanda's eyes snapped open, and she looked at Natasha, the two of them sharing a moment of pure, unadulterated hunger. "Come for us," you murmured, your voice thick with the desire that coated the room. And with that, Wanda's body tightened around you, her back arching as she let out a scream that could have shattered glass. You felt the warmth of her orgasm through the toy, and it was all you could do to hold on to Natasha's neck as you watched her ride out the wave of pleasure.
You felt a dripping sensation as you looked down, a devilish grin on your face. Wanda had squirted all over your chest, the makeup now barely present on your chest as the combination of sweat and her arousal had long since worn it off. You looked at Natasha, her eyes glued to the spot between Wanda's legs, watching the show with a hunger that hadn't been there before. You knew that she was desperate to feel that same pleasure, but you weren't quite done with Wanda yet.
You gently lifted Wanda off the length that was nestled between her thighs, a whimper leaving her as the toy left her with a distinctive sloshing. Sliding down off the cushion of the chair, you sat on the ground in front of it, grasping Wanda’s thighs and pulling her towards you. She had no energy to protest, as the sudden shift caused her to lose her balance and brace herself using the arms of the chair as you kissed up to the apex of her thighs. Sliding one hand around to her ass, you cupped one of her cheeks as you pushed her towards your waiting mouth.
Her pussy was a mess of cum and sweat, the scent of her desire intoxicating. You didn't hesitate, burying your face in her folds and licking up the juices that had pooled at her entrance. You heard Natasha whine but ignored her, focusing solely on the trembling form of your other partner. Wanda's legs gave out slightly, but you kept her upright, her back arching as you began to suck and nibble at her clit. The taste of her was divine, and you felt the cock pulse below you.
You reached down, stroking the length with your other hand as you continued to devour Wanda as she hovered above you. The strap-on was slick with her juices, and you couldn't help but revel in the power you had over both of them and moan at the feeling. Natasha watched, her eyes wide with lust as she felt her arousal build once again, unable to touch herself thanks to your earlier punishment.
Wanda's legs began to quiver, her breath coming in gasps as you brought her closer and closer to another peak. The room was a symphony of moans and whispers, the tension palpable as everyone watched the intimate scene unfold before them. You felt Natasha's eyes on you, so you shifted your head so you could look at her while you worked your tongue through her wife's folds. Her eyes were wide with desire, and she was visibly fighting the handcuffs, trying to free herself so she could get some relief.
You chuckled darkly, enjoying the power you had over Natasha's body and the way her chest heaved with frustration. "Do you like watching?" you taunted her, your voice muffled by Wanda's pussy. "You want a taste?" You didn't wait for Natasha to respond before pulling away from Wanda's clit, leaving it pulsing and swollen and her crying out in frustration. You stood up, the strap-on still slick with Wanda's juices, and approached Natasha. She leaned forward, her eyes never leaving yours, as she took the length into her mouth, sucking and licking at her wife's arousal coating the strap.
The crowd watched with rapt attention as Natasha's eyes rolled back in pleasure, her mouth moving with renewed enthusiasm. You smirked, knowing she was desperate to come, her punishment only making her more eager. You reached down, stroking her cheek with the back of your hand as you felt your orgasm building. Wanda's legs were shaking; her eyes glossed over with desire as she watched Natasha service the toy. You pulled the witch up by her chin, kissing her passionately as she kneeled in the seat, her hands resting next to Natasha's. You continued to thrust into Nat's mouth, panting into your kiss with Wanda as the feeling of the spy's tongue against the enchanted toy caused you to quickly approach your climax. You moaned as she pulled away with a pop before fully engorging herself onto the length.
Plunging your other hand back into the soaked depths of Wanda's core, you quickly worked her back up, matching her crescendo as you commanded her to come at the same time as you. You could feel her inner walls clench around your fingers, and Natasha's eyes went wide as she felt the toy throb in her mouth, knowing you were about to climax. With a roar, you came, the force of it pushing Natasha back slightly, the strap-on spurting a stream of sticky cum that hit her in the face. She took it all, her eyes never leaving yours as the warm fluid coated her cheeks and mouth, her tongue eagerly lapping up every drop.
Wanda's knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the throne, her body trembling from the intensity of the shared orgasm. You stepped back, the strap-on still pulsing slightly as Natasha's eyes remained locked on it, her desire unquenched. You reached down, unbuckling the handcuffs, and Natasha's eyes widened in anticipation of what was to come next.
"Now, it's your turn," you murmured, your voice thick with lust as you pulled Natasha up from her knees. She stumbled slightly, her legs weak from the prolonged arousal and the recent punishment. Wanda watched with a mix of satisfaction and hunger, her chest still heaving from the powerful climax you had just given her. You led Natasha to the chair, pushing her down so she sat straddled in front of it, her legs spread wide, displaying her wet pussy to the eager crowd. You pushed her face down, burying it into Wanda's pussy as you slammed into the redhead, a loud, guttural moan escaping you as her tight heat enveloped the strap.
The crowd watched, their eyes glued to the trio, as you fucked Natasha with the same intensity that had brought Wanda to her peak. Natasha's muffled moans were music to your ears, her body squirming with each deep thrust, her tongue still working Wanda's clit. The fortune teller leaned back into the throne, her hands tangled in Natasha's hair as she felt another wave of pleasure crash around her.
"Now, Natasha," you growled, pulling her face away from Wanda's pussy. "You've been a good girl, watching and waiting. But I think it's time you got what you've been begging for." You grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her around so she faced the audience, her back pressed against the chair. With one swift motion, you buried the strap-on into her, making her gasp loudly. The room was alive with lust and arousal, the air thick with the scent of sex as the crowd watched you claim her or they pleased their partners.
Natasha's eyes rolled back in her head, her legs spread wide and her back arching as you began to fuck her in earnest. Her moans grew louder with every thrust, echoing through the room, and you could feel the power of your control over her body as she responded to your every move. Wanda watched, her desire rekindling as she saw Natasha's pleasure. "Good girl," you murmured, your voice a low growl of approval. "Take it all for us."
The crowd was entranced, their eyes locked on the three of you as you moved together in a dance of dominance and submission. You could feel Natasha's muscles tightening around the strap-on, her orgasm approaching like a freight train. You leaned in, biting her ear as you whispered, "Cum for us, Natasha. Show them what a good slut you are."
Her eyes snapped open at your words, and she nodded frantically, her moans growing more desperate. You reached around her, pinching her nipples hard, watching as her back arched away from your chest. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, Natasha's moans growing louder with each thrust. Wanda leaned forward, her hand slipping between Natasha's legs to rub her clit in time with your strokes. The redhead's eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream as you both pushed her towards her climax.
The room was alive with the sound of passion; the other partygoers had forgotten their own desires as they watched the three of you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. You felt Natasha's muscles tighten around the strap-on and knew she was close. You didn't relent, instead pushing deeper, your rhythm never faltering. Wanda's hand moved faster, her other hand gripping Natasha's hip as she helped you drive her closer and closer to the edge.
Natasha's eyes rolled back, her body writhing in ecstasy as she approached climax. The sight was too much for some in the audience, and you could hear the faint sounds of others reaching their peaks as they watched the erotic display unfold before them. You leaned in, your breath hot against Natasha's neck as you whispered, "Cum for me, Natasha. Show them how much you love being my little slut."
Her response was immediate, her body tensing as she screamed out her orgasm. The room seemed to pulse with the force of it, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire. You could feel her pussy spasm around the strap-on, her legs quivering uncontrollably as she rode the wave. You didn't stop, keeping your rhythm steady and deep as Natasha's body convulsed in pleasure, her moans echoing through the room.
Wanda's eyes were glossed over with lust as she watched Natasha's climax, her arousal evident in the way she ground against the chair, her hand moving between her legs in a silent testament to her own need. You withdrew the strap-on from Natasha's trembling body, her eyes glazed over and her mouth open in a silent O of pleasure. You turned to Wanda, the toy still pulsing with Natasha's orgasm, and offered it to her, a silent invitation for her to taste her wife's pleasure.
Wanda took it without hesitation, her eyes never leaving yours as she licked the length clean, savoring the taste of Natasha's release. The sight sent a thrill through you, and you knew the night was far from over. You stepped away from the throne, Natasha's legs quivering as she tried to stand before you. You offered her a hand, pulling her to you, before trapping her lips in a scolding kiss. You could feel the power thrumming between the three of you, a heady mix of desire and dominance that was intoxicating.
"Now, Natasha," you murmured against her lips, "it's time for your punishment." You led her to a nearby table, bending her over the edge. The room was still silent, the tension palpable as the crowd watched, eager to see what would come next. You eased the strap back into her, burying it to the hilt before you leaned forward. "I want you to count for me, baby. If you miss a number, we start over. Got it?"
Natasha nodded, her breathing heavy with anticipation. You began to spank her, each slap echoing through the room. With each slap, you delivered a powerful thrust, nailing her G-spot every time. The sound of your hand connecting with her flesh was a symphony of power and passion, and she counted off the numbers, her voice trembling with every thrust. "One... two... three..." The crowd was spellbound, some whispering to each other, others touching themselves, unable to resist the eroticism of the scene.
Wanda, now standing beside you, watched with a mix of love and hunger. She reached out, caressing Natasha's back, her hand gliding down to her ass to feel the heat rising from the spanking. Her desire was evident in the way she bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving the spot where your bodies connected. You felt her hand sneak around Natasha's body, her fingers sliding into Natasha's wetness, joining the strap-on in a delicious dance of dominance and desire.
The combined feeling of Natasha's walls clenching around the toy and Wanda's fingers sliding in to join was almost too much for you to bear. You picked up the pace, your hand coming down harder and faster with each number she called out. The crowd watched, their eyes glued to the three of you as the scene grew more intense. You could feel Natasha's body beginning to shake, her voice growing weaker as the pleasure mounted.
"Eigh...nine..." she gasped, her voice breaking on the last number. You stopped abruptly, pulling the strap-on out of her making her whimper. "What was that, Natasha?" you asked, your voice a mix of mock anger and amusement. "Did you forget your place?" She nodded, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glazed over with desire. You knew she was begging for more, and you were more than happy to oblige.
With a smirk, you leaned down, whispering into her ear, "You know what happens when you're a naughty slut, don't you?" She moaned in response, pushing her ass back against the cold, hard table. You stepped back, admiring the view of her reddened skin and the way her legs trembled with anticipation. You gestured to Wanda, who stepped closer, a wicked glint in her eyes.
The crowd was enamored by the show you three were putting on, captivated by your dynamic. Their eyes were either glued to the three of you, their whispers a backdrop to Natasha's counting, or they were creating thier symphony of moans, screams, and skin slapping as they chased thier highs. You could feel the anticipation in the air, the thrill of watching something so intimate and raw. Wanda's hand joined yours, both of you spanking Natasha in unison, her moans growing louder with each smack. "Ten... eleven..." she gasped, her voice strained.
With each number, your strokes grew more intense, and Wanda's fingers curled inside Natasha's pussy, feeling the wetness that was yours alone to give her. You watched Natasha's body tense, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. The power in the room shifted, your dominance over Natasha clear as day, and Wanda's submission to your will just as palpable. Her hand in yours, the two of you punished Natasha's ass in a rhythmic dance of pain and pleasure that had the entire room on the edge of their seats.
Natasha's legs began to shake uncontrollably as you delivered blow after blow, as her wife continued to stretch her walls. "Come for us, Nat," you growled, leaning forward so your breath tickled the shell of her ear. "Come like the good little slut you are."
With a final scream, Natasha's orgasm crashed over her, her body collapsing onto the table as Wanda's fingers slid out, and you slid the strap back into her, helping Nat to ride out her orgasm. You could feel her pussy tighten around the strap-on, her muscles pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. You didn't miss a beat, pulling Natasha upright, the strap-on still deep within her. She leaned heavily against you, panting and spent, her eyes half-closed with pleasure.
Wanda stepped in front of Natasha, her hand reaching for the toy that was still buried deep inside her. You watched as she began to grind against it, her eyes locking onto Natasha's as she whispered, "Look how good you're taking Y/N, Nat." Natasha's eyes widened, and she nodded, her breathing ragged as she watched her wife's face contort with pleasure. You could feel Natasha's pussy clench around the strap-on with every movement Wanda made, and you knew she was just moments away from another orgasm. You reached around, pinching the redhead's nipples, tweaking them as you pulled her towards you.
"Wait for me, Nat. Don't cum until I say," Wanda's voice growled as she watched, her eyes dark with lust. Natasha nodded, her body a taut bowstring of desire, her eyes pleading for release.
Your thrusts began to grow more erratic, the pleasure building in your core. You could feel Natasha's need, her body begging for more, but you held off, savoring the moment, the power of the scene.
Wanda leaned in, her breath hot on Natasha's neck as she whispered, "Tell us when you're close." Natasha's eyes squeezed shut, her voice barely above a whimper, "Now. Oh god, now." You smirked, giving a final, deep thrust before pulling the strap-on out, leaving her pussy gaping and wet. The audience watched, their breaths bated as Wanda took Natasha's place, straddling the chair with an eager look in her eyes. You didn't waste a moment, sliding the toy back into her, watching as her eyes rolled back in pleasure.
Natasha's hands found their way to her chest, pinching and twisting her nipples in time with your movements, her moans joining the chorus of the room. The sight was more than you could handle, and with a roar, you came, the strap-on spurting a thick load of cum into Wanda's pussy. She moaned her climax building, her body trembling as the warmth coated her skin. You didn't stop, your hips moving in a relentless rhythm as Natasha's hand slipped between her wife's legs, circling her clit as she stumbled over the edge again.
The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the room vibrating with the energy of the moment. You stepped away from the chair, the strap-on still pulsing as you watched Natasha collapse into Wanda's arms. The two of them kissed, sharing the taste of victory and desire, Natasha's cum mixing with Wanda's arousal. You felt a thrill run through you, watching them together, knowing you were the one who had brought them to this point.
Carefully, you slipped the strap off your hips, the enchanted phallus still twitching from the intensity of the shared release. Natasha and Wanda clung to each other, their kisses deep and hungry, fueled by the aftermath of their public display of submission and dominance. The warm stickiness between Wanda's thighs was a testament to your power, a visual symbol of the pleasure you had wielded so masterfully. You felt a thrill of pride as Natasha looked over at you, her eyes glowing with a mix of love and admiration. You stepped closer, reaching out to cup Wanda's cheek, bringing her attention to you as well. The three of you shared a moment of silent understanding, the power dynamics pulsing between you like an invisible force.
Valkyrie herself approached, her eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and desire. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "That was quite a performance," she purred. "I never knew you had it in you."
"Back off, Val," you warned your voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Natasha's spine as she clung to Wanda. Wanda's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a hint of jealousy in them, but she quickly softened under your hardened gaze, remembering her place. You turned to the crowd, your chest heaving with exertion, the strap-on still in your hand, dripping with Natasha's cum. "Val, it's never wise to covet what's not yours," you said, a smug smile playing on your lips as you stepped closer to Natasha, who was still trying to catch her breath.
The room went quiet again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You knew everyone was watching, waiting for what would happen next. You reached out, stroking Natasha's cheek with the back of your hand, smearing a line of cum across it. "Let me call the driver, let's get home," you murmured, the softness of your voice a stark contrast to the raw power you had just displayed. You collected the costumes, giving Wanda and Natasha a moment to recover. The crowd parted as you led the way, the air thick with the scent of sex and the electricity of unspoken desires.
"Let us go home and get cleaned up," you start. Natasha and Wanda let out a contented sigh. They nodded in unison, their faces flushed with pleasure and a hint of exhaustion from the intense experience. You wrapped thier coats around them, leading the way out of the party, the sound of the crowd's applause and whispers following you as you exit the grand ballroom.
The cool night air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere you just left behind. The thrill of the performance was still with you, the power dynamics resonating in your very core. "Thank you," Wanda murmured, her voice barely audible as she leaned into you, her hand finding yours. Natasha walked on your other side, her arm wrapped around your waist, her eyes on the ground, the picture of submissive satisfaction.
As you approached the limo, the driver held the door open, his eyes averted respectfully. You slid into the plush interior, Natasha settling onto your lap, her legs spread wide, inviting Wanda to straddle you both. The door clicked shut, and the car glided into the night, leaving the party and its prying eyes behind. "So," you began, your voice a purr of satisfaction. "What shall we do next?"
#communicatethrulyrics#wlw fanfic#natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#lesbian nsft#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wandanat#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wandanat x reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you
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It's Will that gives him the idea.
"we don't really celebrate father's day anymore," he had said awkwardly, "but I can't hang out anyway."
"why not?" Dustin demanded. He was gonna end up bored and alone because he didn't celebrate the holiday and everyone else had plans. he had been counting on Will to keep him company.
"I'm gonna get Jonathan a new record and I want to listen to it with him," he said.
"can't he get his own records? C'mon, we could go to the arcade or something."
"no, Dustin," his tone took on a stubborn edge that made Dustin pause. "He's my brother and I love him, and he's the only guy besides Bob who's ever even tried to look out for me. So I'm sorry but I'm gonna be busy on Sunday."
Dustin didn't argue after that but it did get him thinking which is why on Sunday morning he biked all the way over to Loch Nora and started banging on Steve's door.
"what do you want, Henderson?" Steve sighed the most dramatic put upon sigh Dustin had ever heard.
"you're not my dad--"
"wow you really are genius!"
"shut up, shut up, listen to me!"
"okay, geez, I'm listening."
"you're not my dad and I don't want you to be my dad. I don't even really want a dad! Lots of dads aren't even that great and my mom already has the single parent thing down. But you taught me how to do my hair and how to talk to girls - even though that advice sucked, I didn't need it to get Suzie at all - and you're gonna teach me how to drive--"
"woah, hey, no I never said I'd do that, wh--"
"--and you've saved my life but I think we're even because I've saved your life too."
"Henderson don't you have anything better to do than harass me in my own home?" Steve said. he was using that exasperated tone he got when he knew he wasn't keeping up with what was going on but didn't want to admit it.
"actually no I don't but I'm here for a reason," he reached into his backpack and took out the gift he clumsily wrapped with scraps of brown paper bags. He shoved it into Steve's hands. "You're basically the only adult male figure in my life. And I appreciate you."
Steve squinted at the gift and then at Dustin and at the gift again before he said fussily "is this a prank? If something gross explodes from this, I swear to god, I'll--"
"Just open it, Steve!"
"Fine, fine, keep your shirt on," Steve said and tore off the paper. He blinked and in a softer tone said, "Oh."
"I don't know if you even like making models but I know you love cars and this kit looked just like yours, so yeah."
Steve stared at the kit some more. Dustin started to fidget. It was always better to be honest with your feelings but maybe this was too much for Steve. Maybe Steve didn't like him as much as Dustin did. Steve was not as enlightened about these things as Dustin.
"I've never made a model before."
Dustin hunched his shoulders and tried not to feel stupid or hurt. He should have expected this. They weren't even related. This was probably too weird. He reached out to take the gift back.
"it's fine, I can return it, whatever."
Steve raised the kit out of Dustin's reach.
"Hey, this is mine," he said.
"you don't even like it!"
"I never said that! I'm just gonna need a dweeby little nerd to help me build it. You know anybody like that?" Steve asked, batting his eyes innocently.
"you're such a dick," Dustin grumbled, fighting back a grin.
"watch your language!"
"shut up, you're not my dad."
Steve laughed as Dustin shoved his way into the house. Hours later, after much shouting and ribbing and one incident of spilled paint, a small model of the beemer was left to dry while Steve forced Dustin to watch the baseball game on TV with him. It wasn't the worst thing ever, and after Steve mentioned the statistics involved, it got way more interesting ("of course you'd like the math part, you weirdo" "you don't understand the stats do you" "shut up and watch the game, Henderson"). When the paint was dry, Dustin followed Steve upstairs and watched him carefully and deliberately place the model between a couple of sports trophies.
"yeah, I guess it looks pretty cool," Steve said with exaggerated nonchalance. "Now beat it, kid. your mom's gonna freak if you're not home when she gets back from work."
"can you give me a ride?"
"ugh, fine."
Dustin grinned. This had been, hands down, the best father's day ever. From the look on Steve's face when he placed the model, Dustin was pretty sure he agreed.
#stranger things#steve is an honorary henderson#steve harrington#dustin henderson#trensu tells stories#i almost forgot i had this in my drafts!!#i wanted to wait to post on actual father's day but i was busy all day#(went to a cubs game with my dearest friend and it was so good omg)#(definitely worth the headache that hit me when i got home)#the smart thing would've been to schedule the post but why would i do that lol#anyway there's still an hour's worth of father's day left so it counts
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korra (legend of korra) x reader angst to fluff 🙏🏻
I gotchuuu 😉👍
Korra x reader
+slight Kuvira x reader cause I have a huge brain rot for her🥲
Angst to fluff,mentions of trauma,long fic because it has plot in it.
Korra has been...distant.
Ever since Zaheer and the red lotus poisoned her and forced her to fight in the avatar state she's been different,to you and to her family.
She doesn't eat,when she sleeps she has nightmares, she doesn't talk to you...and it's worrying you so much,your heart aches each time she sends you away with her deafening silence.
You try talking to her about Asami's accomplishment or Mako's new job,even how Bolin made a name for himself.
But each time she'd have that empty look in her eyes,as she sits in that wheelchair she despises so much.
Sometimes you wish you could read her mind,chase away the memories that are tormenting her.
"Please Korra,I'm begging you,try...for me,just...I know you can do it." You sit on your knees,hands on her knees. Eyes looking at her pleading.
"I'm not who I used to be, (Name). Stop trying to save me." She turns her head away, avoiding your pleading eyes.
"That's not true,and you know it!" You cup her cheek, bringing her face closer to yours,yet your eyes hardly connect with each other.
She grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from her face."I don't need you and your pity, so find someone else to nag and leave me alone already!" Korra snaps,anger running trough her body.
Your eyes whiden in shock and you feel like she squeezed your heart with her harsh words.
"Do you even love me?" You bite your lip, waiting for an answer you know you won't get.
You avert your eyes from her face. Disappointed with her lack of will to be with you.
"That's what I taught." You get up and turn around ready to leave. Ready for a new start away from here,from Korra.
"(Name) i-" she wants to get up,run after you ,hug you and tell you she loves you more than herself. But she can't even gather her words properly.
You stop for a second , wishing to hear those words,only fooling yourself further.
.
.
With time Korra started getting more ambitious. She wanted to return to the person everyone knew her as. The avatar.
Her wish to prove to you that she can do better was growing by the day. Even so,the last time you spoke to here was the day you left, a day she still regrets even now.
Sometimes she would just feel like giving up,but you reminded her who she was doing this for,giving her the will to fight.
It's been a year since you've left the south pole. Being there with the shell of your lover was too much for you to handle.
Since you returned to Republic city you've been reunited with Bolin, helping Kuvira restore order to the earth kingdom.
It really took your mind off Korra. Now that you joined Kuvira, you got stronger. Unlike someone,you didn't let your trauma and past tragedies hunt you anymore.
"Well done (Name), you're getting stronger by the day." The dark haired woman smiles, hand laying on your shoulder proudly.
You wipe some sweat of your forehead, smiling back at her. "That's the goal I'm reaching for." She nods, looking at your form.
"I remember the first time Bolin introduced you to me and my cause." She wraps some bandages on her wrist, preparing to spar with you, "You were so lost." You watch her moves carefully, getting in a fighting stance.
"Im not the person I used to be." You speak,words giving you a sense of deja Vu.
Kuvira lounges , throwing some big stones at you. You grin, dodging them.
Once you find your opening,you make some ice disks and throw them at her.
Kuvira bends herself an earth wall,then throws it at you.
You make yourself a wave of water,going around Kuvira's wall, your water wave is circling the older woman. Once water is all around her ,you let it fall,and freeze, traping her in ice.
You move towards Kuvira's frozen body. "You cold in there?" A smug smile adorns your face as you slightly bend down to meet with her face. Your hands lazily lay on your knees.
She smirks,your metal collar suddenly pulled towards her. "Don't get to cocky now. It's just the first time you finally got to beat me. Let's try it with metal bending next time hm?"
You roll your eyes, releasing Kuvira from the Ice cage that kept her down. "I'm confident in myself,but not that confident yet." arms crossed as she rubbed some sore spots on her cold hands.
"Can't you have some faith in yourself?Keep going like this and you won't be far from becoming my second in charge." She smiles.
You smile proudly, happy you can finally accomplish something more for yourself.
.
.
Another year passed,with you growing stronger and smarter every day,but the taught of your former lover never ceased to fade. Even now ,her return growing closer by the day. You wonder how she's doing, from what Tenzin has told you,she's having a great recovery.so far. Finally able to walk again.
You worked hard to become Kuvira's right hand,and you're now closer to your goal than ever.
So many cities you helped bring back order and balance , so many lives you saved while being part of this cause.
Unfortunately, Kuvira soon has to step down from her spot,the council finding a new king for the earth kingdom while your boss brought peace wherever she went.
.
"Oh and Flying monkeys!" You blink, looking at Bolin. "Isn't that what Avatar Aang had ?" You raise a brow,not remembering how this conversation even started. "That is so incorrect." Bolin crosses his arms. Looking ready to give you a lecture. "Avatar Aang had a flying Lemur AND a bison as his animal companions. Not a flying monkey, (name)." You roll your eyes. "Whatever you say rock brain." You smirk noticing his anoyed expression. "Hey! How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He pokes you in the waist,making you joilt up. "Stop that!" You glare at him,poking him back.
The two of you go on like this for a little while, attracting a few stares to yourself.
Until someone clears their troath.
"Am I interrupting something?" Lin stands towering over you and Bolin, giving you a bored look. "Chief Beifong!" Bolin is quick to bow down, dragging you with him.
"You little-" you stop yourself, locking eyes with the police chief, now giving her an awkward smile.
"If the two of you are done acting like monkeys,could you follow me?" You and Bolin now stand straight, noticing Lin's mood is lower than usual.
"I can't stay for chit chatting,maybe (Name) could solve this? I remembered I was supposed to meet with mako,like 30 minutes ago." The brunette boy gives you a sorry smile as you glare at him. "How convenient." Your comment followed by narrowed eyes,sent chills down his spine. Bolin took a quick look at chief Beifong,then left.
"Good. I wanted to speak to you anyways." You raise a brow curiously at the older woman's words. "You did?I mean ,you do?" She nods,not saying another word until you get to a remote Cafe.
The two of you sit down in a corner, quite remote from the rest of the people in the public space.
"So ,what did you want to speak to me about Chief?" You start, looking at the window.
"It's about Kuvira." Your face turns to Lin as she got your interest.
"What about Kuvira?" You tilt your head.
"I'm worried she won't step down and allow the prince to rule the earth kingdom." Lin stops,as a waitress brought the two of you two cups of tea,"Kuvira seems to take great pride in what she accomplished,but I don't think she's willing to stop there. People of earth empire call her The Great Uniter." The chief looks at her mug, waiting for you to respond.
You fiddle with your fingers, searching for the right words to describe Kuvira's wishes. "She has done so much for the earth kingdom,and she's a strong woman,in combat and in mind,the name fits her ,if km honest."
You stop to drink a little from your (chosen) tea, "And I know it's not my place to talk but...ever since Korra is gone,the people see Kuvira as their savior."
Lin sighs, "Kuvira is forcing people to do labor work for her , threatening them with their lives." You whiden your eyes at the words spoken from her.
"I know how she can be..harsh,.but she wouldn't do such a thing." Your gaze moves to the window.
"She is manipulating you (Name), because she knows how strong you are. Should I also remind you how you used to date the avatar?." You close your eyes tightly, trying to push away the taughts of Korra. "Why do you think she chose to have you so close to her? If Korra ever becomes a problem for her,she'll have you as leverage." Lin's fist tightens, looking at your expression.
"It's not true. If you saw the way she acts...you wouldn't say that.Kuvira wouldn't just use me like that." She sighs at your way of defending Kuvira. How could you defend such a woman?
"Everything Kuvira does is for a reason,keep that in mind (Name)." Lin gets up and leaves some money on the table.
You remain there , trying to piece together your racing taughts.
.
And just like Lin said,once it was time for Kuvira to back down and allow the prince to rise,she made the announcement that from then on the earth kingdom would be under her rule.
The rule of The Great Uniter.
This got you contemplating ever joining her,it doesn't feel right with you.
Bolin chose to stick around,but you wanted to leave. Being in a situation like this was too much for you.
"So you planned to just abandon me?" The person you didn't want to see the most right now was behind you, leaning on your door frame.
"This isn't right,Kuvira." You stated, covering your arms as you turn to see her.
"This is exactly what's right for the earth kingdom. I can't let that spoiled Prince destroy everything we accomplished." She pushed herself of the door way, moving closer to you.
"It doesn't feel right,I can't fight for something that doesn't feel right with me." Kuvira sighs. She places a hand on your shoulder. "I know what I'm doing,but I can't do it without you by my side. We accomplished so many great things together." She starts slowly guiding you towards a window. "Just look at how much good we did" her hands point at the window. "The land is safe again, raiders are not attacking innocent people or stealing. What more could you ask?" you look at one of the cities she got back and supplied,it looks at peace. What if she was right?
You bite your lip, "What happens with the people after we leave?" Her eyes meet yours,
"We give them a job, something to do to make the earth kingdom a better place,even the raiders."
Even if your gut tells you not to trust her,your mind reminds you of the great things she did so far. Kuvira never left you down.
"Are you telling the truth to me?"
She smiles, holding eye contact with you.
"Why would I lie?"
.
.
This is getting out of hand, Kuvira wants to attack Zaofu, Suyin's home simply for not obeying her terms.
"Kuvira this is madness,you can't do this!" You enter the command center ,she dismisses the people that were in the room, leaving you two alone.
"No. It's necessary for me to do this. Once Zaofu finally surrenders to me I get total control of the earth empire."
You scoff at her words.
"Do you even hear yourself?" Pacing around the room,you can't help but glance at her troops just outside.
"I thought you were with me on this, remember everything we fight for." Her armor slightly clangs as she walks towards you.
"I fight to make this world a better place,you fight to take control and rule and empire, excuse me but there's a difference." You move away from her,scoffing at the taught of helping her bring Zaofu down.
Kuvira glares at the back of your head.
"I'm doing this because no one else was willing to. And I have to make some tough choices that many wouldn't,why can't you see?" The tall woman runs a hand trough her hair, trying to calm herself down.
Now it all makes sense,Lin was right and you were stupid for doubting her.
"I'm leaving and you can't stop me. Not this time." She sighs, once you start moving towards the door, two of her metal bands parts push you to the wall,hands stuck above your head.
"Let me go."you glare at her trying to get away from her metal.
"I expected better from you." She shakes her head disappointed. You look around the room, trying to find a water source, yet nothing in sight.or reach
"Lock her up tight. Make sure she gets no visitors." Kuvira calls for two of her guards.as they take you away,you see the shrinking image of Kuvira's disappointed face.
.
.
.
You watch as Korra fights with Kuvira for your life,and Suyin's.
She got so much better,but there's still something wrong with her you just know it.
Kuvira seems to have the upper hand,until Korra knocks her down. She was so close,but she hesitates suddenly, giving Kuvira the opportunity to trap Korra.
"No!" You scream,Kuvira turns her head to look at you,a smile adorning her face. Looking around desperately,you see a little source of water, hopefully close enough to you.
You move your hands that are tied behind your back to use the water,creating a razor form to slice trough Kuvira's metal.
You take off running, attacking Kuvira with spikes of ice.
The metal bender pushes herself away from Korra , creating a shield for herself.
Kuvira Is pissed,how could you escape? Are her soldiers good for nothing at all? More importantly,what are you going to do?
You create a big ice shield that goes all around to fit you and Korra trough,finally getting to touch her after so long.
"Korra please get up!" You cradle her head in your arms as her upper body lays on your thighs (Kuvira is jelly~~) she opens her eyes,bright blue eyes you would lose yourself in.
"I came back for you." She smiles touching your face lightly,fearing you might be another one of her illusions. Your eyes whiden, smiling at her words
"I shouldn't have left you in the first place." A tear falls on her face (imagine Kuvira trying to break the ice while those two have their moment ☠️)
"I didn't mean anything I said that day,I'm so sorry,I didn't mean to send you away." Korra gets up,now on her knees ,face to face with you. Her hands cup your face, staring at you lovingly." I Love you." Hearing those words,you jump on Korra,giving her a big hug.
You sniff, smiling at her. "We should really focus on getting out of this situation now." Your voice cracks as you joke.
Korra stands up,ready to fight once more, her will stronger than ever.
.
.
.
I originally wanted to write something else,but this plot came so I just rolled with it. ┐( ˘_˘)┌
#x reader#korra x reader#korra#avatar korra#the legend of korra x reader#the legend of korra#reader#gn reader#kuvira x reader#kuvira#tlok#avatar#fluff#angst#love triangle
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CASE 28: CHOSO KAMO AND YOU SHARE A POWER!
!content!: blood, period sex..?, eating out, choso is uneducated and not beta’d, literally drinking blood.
wc: 1,002
solace: the formatting is sooo weird…
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Choso, for his 150 years on Earth, does not know what a period is. Doesn't know why it happens, or how it affects someone. Sure, it hurts, he knows that. You've told him countless times. Cramps, you said.
But he somehow didn't understand that most people avoid having sex on these days, because, as you had explained, there's blood. Choso still doesn't get it. He means good. He doesn’t mind blood. But you did, apparently.
He thinks that you have connections to him and have a blood related cursed technique.
So you sat him down, one dreadful night, where you had your awful period, and walked him through every nook and cranny about having periods and the basics of the biological need for them.
"So... It's natural..." Choso inquires, and you nod, “but it hurts you? Because you’re not pregnant..." He seems salty about it, annoyed that women, when reaching a certain age, are pained because nature intended for them to get pregnant.
“Basically, yeah.” You’re happy he got it a tiny bit right.
"When did you get it?" He asks, and it takes a while to understand what he means.
“Uh, I think... At thirteen." You answer truthfully. Choso frowns.
“But that’s young…” Aw, he's so cute, worrying about this. Most men don't even think about it. You were so lucky to have him.
"Yean, but it's nature. Only way I can prevent them without getting pregnant is birth control and removing my uterus."
“So why don't you?" He pouts, cutie.
"Because I don't know if I want kids, and birth control has side effects I don't need right now." Chose looks at his phone and unlocks it, typing something. He's gotten used to phones, after Yuji taught him.
"Apparently, hot pockets are a good way to alleviate pain, did you know?" Of course you knew, but it's wholesome to know he's trying to help.
"Yeah, babe, I know."
"And making love, too!" The half curse exclaims, which could only mean one thing. He wants to help.
So, now you're in the shower with Choso, because you didn't want to wash the sheets, naked and bleeding on his cock.
"Does it hurt?" He asks for the nth time and you groan.
“No, babe, for the millionth time, move.” Taking that as the green light, he adjusts you, making sure you'd be steady in his arms and pulls out, dragging his long cock inside of your extra warm and wet cunt, your blood stains his pale skin and you moan.
Could this truly alleviate period pain? So far, you hadn’t had any cramps to report, so all's well. But that could change at any moment.
Then, Choso slowly enters you once more, dark eyes fixed on where you were connected bloodily. He exhales shakily, shutting his eyes, as if he was trying to hold back. And it's only now that you realize that you
were definitely more sensitive than before. Way more sensitive.
“Hey,” comes Choso’s strained voice, still painfully hard inside of you. "I don't want to hurt you, and…" He pauses, catching his breath like he just ran a marathon, even that was easy for him. “I know I’ll lose control. Can I eat you out?" Gosh, he was so polite, even
during sex. You nod, however. You didn't want a repeat of last time he hurt you. He cried so much it could’ve flooded japan.
"Are you sure, though? We can always stop, most guys don’t like touching their girls when they're on their periods.”
"I'm not like other guys, then." He carefully sets your feet down on the floor, opens the tap and lets the shower head wash in between your thighs, alongside his dick knowing the blood would crust. How sweet.
Choso gets on his knees, like he was praying for you, and swipes his tongue on your hot slit,
The first taste is addictive, forcing him to shove his tongue mside of your pussy while you gasped, throwing a leg over his shoulder. He places a securing hand on the outside of your thigh and kneads the fat as he slurped on your red cunt.
Your blood made its way to his lower face, and Choso doesn't hesitate to bury his head deeper between your legs. Your stomach churned at the idea of him consuming your blood like this.
But somehow, it was hot, and it made your pussy wetter, muscles taunter.
"Choso-ah! S'good... Don't stop..." You whine, pushing his head down and he looks up, showing his bloody canines off.
“Not gunnah." The half curse suckles on your clit, eliciting a loud moan, thankfully silenced by the sound of running water.
"Are you hurting?" Choso wiggles his tongue through your folds, you were so close... He can't stop.
"No! Faster, please!" You begs, whimpering as he bit on your cit lightly. And faster he did go.
He forced his tongue into your bloody cunt repeatedly, not even giving you time to realize you were cumming, seeing stars behind your eyelids and almost slipping from how weak your knees became.
“Fuck…” You sigh, throwing your head back against the shower wall. “Ch-Choso, you freak.” You giggle as you look down, pulling on his hair to make him look at you.
“Don’t.” The curse in question warns, his eyes seem to glow, but that’s impossible. He looked… monstrous. Feral, even.
“Don’t what..?” It’s surprising, how Choso can go from genteel and soft to mean and vicious. You could even consider it scary.
“Let me… let me eat some more…” He stares at your pussy, and you could even spot a small tear trying to slip out of his eye. “I just want to help with the pain.”
Right, the cramps. You haven’t felt any, maybe it did help, but that didn’t mean he should continue.
“It’s fine, babe. I’ll just be out of commission for a few days.” You reassure, patting his head.
“No.” Choso frowns, tongue dipping back in. “I want more.”
What have you done?
#jjk#kinktober 2024#jjk smut#jujustu kaisen x reader#solace's works#choso#choso smut#kamo choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso my beloved
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a kind of hunger | chapter 2
joel miller x fem!reader
series masterlist
an offer from your employer sets your life on track and throws it into a new kind of chaos at the same time. where does joel miller fit into it all?
length: 5.9k
Warnings: 18+ smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, heavy petting, joel having a moment with r's tits, hand stuff, dirty talk, painful sex for a second, riding (p in v sex), like a really small smidge of breeding kink, emotional turmoil from r cause what else is she gonna do, some plot! wow! a/n: finally! another chapter. it’s short but i think we’re getting somewhere. Let me know what you think! huge thank you to @macfrog for your eyes and for keeping my sanity in check and @bageldaddy for teaching me how to use commas, letting me borrow your bar, and telling me to just “slutty hallmark it.” this is for you guys.
navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀
---
Bill’s offer costs you one night of sleep and that’s all.
Taking over the bar goes against every rule you've had for yourself up until now, everything that’s kept you going and on your feet.
You lose when you stick around. You get hurt when you get attached. Always keep moving.
But your night with Joel seems to have shaken something loose. You’ve got a pit in your stomach, a hunger set alight by his eyes and his hands and his attention. It’s like he reminded you how to want, how to stop letting the world turn under your feet and dig in your heels instead.
And there’s what Bill said, the thing that won't leave you alone. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice.
It’s easy to lie to yourself about a lot of things: that you don’t mind this life, its constant movement and instability. That it’s made you crafty. That if you picked up and left right now, you’d be fine. No one would miss you, no one would notice. The names and faces you’ve learned would fade as soon as you found new ones somewhere else.
You’ve been a tight fist your whole life, only hanging onto what can fit into your rough and weathered palm, half-moon crescents bleeding that damn desperate hope you can never seem to scrub off. It means a whole lot of avoiding things that could matter so you can’t lose them, can’t let them slip through your fingers. A family who saw your need for space and control and turned it into isolation and disinterest, who drove you away as soon as you were able to leave. College was a bust. Relationships gone sour have taught you not to rely on anyone. Failed experiment after failed experiment, just looking for something to stick. It’s better to be alone, right?
That tight fist keeps anyone out, anyway. It’s carefully rolled bills in plastic bags in the toe of a pair of sneakers just in case. It’s talking just enough to get you a place to stay, a job, a ride, but not enough that anyone remembers your face, even if you wish they would.
It’s not one big thing. It’s a million small ones. And nothing ever lasts. You never last; always cutting and running before it can get real, before they can see the truth of you and find it lacking.
You’ve been looking for the missing piece for years now, the thing that will make you feel like you’ve finally made it somewhere where you’re needed enough to stick around. Where you can stop quitting, where you can put down roots. Where you can be wanted.
You just aren’t sure it’s possible. You’ve done so many things, seen so much, that you feel like it’s too late to be anything other than this.
It’s easy to believe all of that until someone like Joel sees through it – until someone like Bill tells you none of it is true.
Fuck it.
You call Bill the next morning and tell him you'll take over Frank's.
According to him, the turnaround will be quick. He'll have someone "official" draw up the paperwork. You tell him you won't change the name. You tell him you will make some repairs, fix the cracked vinyl booths, and give the floors a refinish, and –
"Do whatever the fuck you want," he grumbles over the phone. "It's your bar."
It sure is.
You own something, now. You belong somewhere – even if it’s just because you have payslips to sign and counters to clean. But maybe this time, if you try hard enough, you can get it right.
You have a meeting to tell the staff that you’re taking over. There are only five of you – two college kids from a town over, the guy who works part-time at the garage by the highway, and an old butch called Pat you find vaguely frightening who’s been working here longer than you care to ask.
It’s probably the first time all five of you have been in the same room. None of them seem disappointed in Bill’s retirement, and they’re on board with your plan for renovations. Especially after you assure them they’ll be paid even if you close for a bit to get it all done.
Joel doesn't come in. You notice, but don’t spare it too much thought. You can’t because the bar is a fucking nightmare all week.
The keg lines keep blocking, the jukebox dies a sudden staticky death, and some asshole scratches the pool table hard enough to tear up the felt. Everyone and everything is pissing you off. It’s an effort not to spend all of your breaks on that milk crate in the alley with your head in your hands.
It feels like Frank’s is hazing you. After all you’ve done for it, you feel a little betrayed.
“Why the hell do you think I’m retiring?” Bill says when you call to bitch about it. “This shit is a fuck ton of work.”
By Friday, you're at your wit's end.
The rush has come and gone, and now it’s slow. Slow enough that you might be worried, but Pat has told you before that this is just how it is in small towns, sometimes.
That, or maybe your bad mood scared everyone off. Maybe they're tired of the shitty atmosphere, of the cloudy glasses and squeaking stools, maybe they –
You pop an olive into your mouth.
“Chill the fuck out,” you mutter to yourself. No one is around to hear.
The only patrons left are some bikers at one of the back tables playing cards. Their laughter is too loud without the music going. The mats behind the bar are sticky under your boots, and your temple has started to throb. You feel like locking yourself in the office just for the silence.
The air shifts when Joel steps inside.
The hunger you feel is a familiar fire, coals that stoke themselves and never go out. Lust, infatuation as you take in his broad shoulders and grey-streaked hair. You’re strung out and a fuck might help.
But there’s also a weight in your chest at the sight of him, one you haven’t felt in a while. It sits heavy above that smoldering flame in your belly, a bruise you can’t stop yourself from pressing on.
Maybe part of you expected him to stop coming in after you fucked. Regardless of how it made you feel, you’re just some woman who serves him two fingers of liquor when he wants to run away from his life. Just someone who gave him one good night and nothing more.
But this weight – this big, thorny emotion that looks like affection and attachment and something real – you don’t know what to do with it.
It’s never been this way with a one-night stand. Yeah, you know the weight of him above you, inside you. You know the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his head between your thighs. That kind of shit usually doesn’t change anything with you, but Joel is…different.
Careful, that voice inside you says.
Joel peels off his jacket and tosses it on the otherwise empty bar, pushing up his sleeves to reveal his tanned forearms. The stool creaks under him and his gaze is heated as it travels over you. He doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s looking.
He shakes his head when you hold up the bottle of whiskey.
"Water's fine," he says.
You blink. If he’s not here to drink then what is he here for?
He seems like he always does. Relaxed, like the room was made to have him in it. But you look a little closer, now that you figure you can. The deep scar on the bridge of his nose stands out and his cheeks are a little pink. The temperature must have dropped once the sun went down. His jaw isn’t tense so much as set, determined. He rubs his chin with a flat palm as you fill a glass using the soda gun.
“Whatever you want,” you say.
He looks around the bar. You figure he's taking in the out-of-order signs on the beer pulls, the flickering light pointing to the restroom, maybe even the goddamn ruined pool table.
You pick up a rag and start to clean to keep your hands busy.
“Quiet for a Friday,” he says. "Things goin’ alright?”
You bristle at the implication. It’s been a shitty week, and you don’t need anyone reminding you that you’re probably not cut out for this.
“Fucking peachy,” you snap.
Joel raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t rise to it. "Seems like things are a little tense.”
You swallow a flash of genuine annoyance.
"All it takes is a roll in the sack and now you're a talker?"
Joel isn't phased. He takes a small sip of his drink, rolls the glass between his hands. Nice hands, you think. Hands that felt so good between your --
"Just makin’ conversation," he says lightly.
You’ve always thought you were hard to read – hell, you’ve been told that many times. One of your flaws, people always say, but it makes it easier to slide in and out of places without too much damage. And yet, Joel, a man who has been in your bed once and sits at your bar when it suits him, sees right through you.
Your shoulders slump.
“I’m just tired,” you tell him.
Joel rubs his beard with one wide palm. He moves his jaw back and forth like he's giving you the chance to shut him down, like he’s chewing on the silence.
"Heard somethin'," he says. "Wondered if it was true. Thought I'd ask."
"Are you asking?"
He eyes you, takes another sip of his water like it's a tumbler of amber liquid instead. Like anything you pour him is something to be savored.
"Guess so."
You set the glass down and put your hands on the wood, leaning towards him with your head cocked.
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Joel Miller?”
“Nah,” he says, eyes flashing before they slide down to your lips. “Ran into Frank in the frozen aisle at the store.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
The corner of his mouth tugs up. "Known him and Bill a long time."
That explains why he looks like he belongs here. He's probably been in this room more times than you have. All of the things you don't know about Joel hang in the air between you.
"Does Bill...?"
Does your buddy know you fucked me in the apartment I rent from him?
Joel shakes his head. "Frank told me Bill was giving the place to one of his employees. Figured it was you."
And that’s that. But it sounds like a compliment.
“Well, it’s me alright,” you sigh, slumping a bit. “And there's a lot of shit to do.”
Joel puts a hand on your forearm. It's a light touch, a quick one, but it sends sparks along your skin. A moth to a flame.
“Ain’t no small thing. Ownin’ a bar. Big deal, if you ask me.”
You roll your eyes but pride swells in your chest. He’s right. It is a big deal.
And here you are in your bar.
With Joel, who fits into all of this somehow. You just don’t know where yet.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you,” you say with a smirk.
You want to draw it out of him, make him flirt with you for the answers he seems to want. You want something to sink your teeth into after this week, something to play with.
Something to make you feel in control. And that’s what Joel gave you, last time you saw him. He pushed when you pulled, met your touches and your quips with attitude and hands of his own. You felt alive, you felt present. You felt wanted. And it was fun.
If you’re not careful, you might forget what sex was like without that – his attention, his touch. Your name in his mouth. But now that you’re giving staying here a shot, maybe it’s time to indulge. To reach out and take.
Joel snorts. He leans forward and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Should we toast to it?”
You laugh. “I don’t drink on the job.”
He raises his water glass.
“Alright,” you scoff. “Fine.”
You pour yourself some water and clink your glasses together. Joel’s eyes never leave yours, not when he takes a long sip, not when he sets the glass down. He keeps looking at you with that heavy, unshakable gaze.
It’s unnerving, the way he makes you feel. You’re still tired, still annoyed, but there's electricity at the base of your spine, the embers in your belly. You want to talk to him.
You clench your hands around your glass. You want to touch him, too.
“So,” you say. He’s wearing a henley this time, the buttons at the top undone just enough to give you a glimpse of a peak of chest hair. You swallow and flick your eyes back to his. He’s smirking.
“So,” Joel echoes. “Why’d you take it? The bar.”
You shrug. “Seemed like a good deal.”
“Bill ain’t in the habit of good deals,” he huffs. “He must like you.”
It’s an effort to squash your smile. “I don’t think Bill likes anyone much.”
“Real asshole, ain’t he?”
That gets a laugh out of you. “Well, he’s your friend.”
“Not much choice in a small town.”
You hum.
The noisy group from the back stumble their way to the door, waving at you as they file out into the night.
“Those idiots ruined my pool table on Tuesday,” you hiss, though you smile at them.
“Gotta be pretty fuckin’ bad at pool to do that.” He looks around and realizes he’s the last one in the bar. “You closin’?”
“It’s only eleven, Joel.”
His eyes rake up and down your body. Is he thinking about how he touched you, how you fell apart under him? Heat curls lazily in your belly. He runs his finger around the rim of his glass.
“Damn shame,” he says.
Normally you wouldn’t shut for a few hours, but it’s pretty dead for a Friday and…
And Joel is looking at you like that and you want to touch him.
You don’t mess around with regulars.
You’re already breaking your rules by taking over Frank’s. What’s one more?
The pulse between your legs agrees with you.
“Colin,” you call over your shoulder, stepping back from Joel’s hot gaze. The barback appears immediately.
“Yeah?”
“I’m shutting early. Go home. Tonight’s tips are yours.”
He sputters. “Are you sure?” His gaze flicks to the stacks of glasses behind the bar, the tables that still need wiping down.
“I’ll take care of it. See you next week.”
He just shrugs and turns on his heel. A minute later the back door slams and you know the kid is gone.
You lift the bridge and slide out from behind the bar. Your boots are loud on the shitty floors with no one in here and each step to the door feels longer than it should because of his damn stare. You feel Joel’s eyes on you as you lock the door and flick off the neon BAR sign that hangs outside.
When you turn around, his eyes are dark.
Joel stays on his stool, one foot on the ground so that his knees are spread wide, watching you. One hand rests on his thigh, thick fingers tapping to a tune only he hears. His other arm is on the wood of the bar, stretching his shirt across his broad chest.
When Joel looks at you, sometimes it feels like he’s the first person to ever see you.
“Gotta settle up,” he drawls.
“What, you gonna tip me for water?”
“Not exactly,” he says, words dragging in his mouth. “Got somethin’ else in mind.”
The air in the bar sparks and crackles like one of those long Texas summer days when a thunderstorm looms like a threat. The electricity of it crackles down your spine, turns it molten, turns you dangerous. It’s never felt like this before with someone you’ve slept with. Just being close to him is enough to kick your pulse into gear. You feel hyper aware of every part of your body as he looks at you like you’re offering him something better than what you can pour.
Which, you guess, you are.
“And what would that be?”
He hums.
“C’mere.”
You can see his cock straining against the front of his jeans.
“Bossy,” you say. “That for me?” You jerk your chin towards his lap and take your time walking back to him.
He smirks. “You wanna go upstairs?”
As soon as you step between his knees, the hand on his leg moves to your hip. Two fingers sneak under the waistband of your jeans to find bare skin. You brace yourself with one palm on his thigh, another on his neck, and thread his soft hair through your fingers.
“I don’t see why we have to,” you say slowly, watching him carefully. “No one’s here. And I know the owner. She won’t mind.”
The hand on your hip slides further back and his fingers press hard into the swell of your ass.
“Oh, that right?” he chuckles. “Well, as long as we ain’t breakin’ any rules.”
You’re not sure who moves first. You’ve got a few inches on him by being on your feet so you pull him towards you just as he surges up and your mouths meet sloppily, hungrily. Joel tugs you closer and you dig your fingers into his thigh as he swallows your giddy laugh, his beard scratching your skin deliciously.
You’re going to fuck him. In your bar.
“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, lips trailing over your jaw. He’s got both hands on you now, one on your ass and the other on your hip, holding you like he expects you to disappear.
“No, not really–” You cut yourself off with a gasp when he nips your pulse point. “Joel.”
He kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You remember the sounds he made in your apartment and tug on his hair. Joel’s moan is your reward. You press close and grind your hips against the hardness in his jeans and he growls.
“Hard as a rock the second I step in this damn place,” he says, holding you there. You pull back to see his lips spit-slick, his pupils blown. Seeing him undone like this by your touch is just as thrilling as it was last time. His teeth scrape down your neck and he unbuttons your jeans.
“Sounds like a – ah – you problem.”
Joel’s fingers drag through the curls above your cunt before he goes where you really want him. You gasp against his temple when he circles your clit.
“Seems to me I’m not the only one,” he rasps.
The fingertips on his thigh become nails digging in even harder when he slips one finger inside you.
“Gonna leave bruises, sweetheart,” Joel says. Your cunt clenches around him. “You like that? Markin’ me?”
“Maybe I do,” you groan. “You left some last time.”
The angle can’t be ideal but Joel fucks you as best as he can with one finger, then two. You drag his face back to yours and suck on his bottom lip, tugging his hair all the while. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire, like you’re burning up from the inside.
His other hand rucks up your shirt until you tug it all the way off. He pulls down the cup of your bra with one hand and rolls your nipple between his fingers.
You could come like this, Joel’s hands everywhere.
Gripping him through his clothes isn’t enough. You scramble to undo his belt and get your hand in his jeans, button popped and fly down.
He grunts your name when you spit into your palm and take him in hand, velvety soft and tip leaking.
“Careful,” he hisses. “Don’t want to stop this before it starts.”
“I’ll be gentle,” you say. He thumbs your clit in response and you gasp.
Time blurs with his fingers inside you. Your strokes are lazy but he hisses each time you drag your thumb over his tip. Is it going to be this, you two pawing at each other against the bar until someone bursts?
“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I want –”
He finally returns to your clit with a strained smirk. The veins in his neck are visible, telling you it’s getting to him, too.
“You remember what I said last time?”
Ask for what you want, you hear me? You ask and I'll do my damn best.
You could have him bend you over the bar. You imagine it, quick and dirty, the wood digging into your waist as he slams into you, flesh on flesh. It would be better than last time, you know it. But you want to see him.
You want Joel’s face in your neck, your hands in his hair as he fills you up. You want to watch him fall apart under you.
You dig your nails into him again and he hisses. You lean forward so your lips drag along the shell of his ear.
“I want to ride you, Joel,” you say.
His eyes flash. He kisses you hard, swirls your clit one more time, and pulls his hand from your cunt. Your knees feel a little weak so you keep your hands on his shoulders.
Joel brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.
“Gotta get at least a taste,” he says. “Just as sweet as I remember.” You surge forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and he groans into your mouth.
“Alright, baby,” he says, breath a little ragged. He thumbs your nipple again. “Where’re you gonna ride me?”
“Booth,” you manage. “Over there.” You jerk your head back towards the cracked vinyl seats he’s never once sat in since you met him. He pats your hips and you step back. The stool scrapes loudly on the floor as he stands.
He cups your cheek with one callused palm and just looks. His hair is a mess from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses. And yet he’s looking at you like you’re the answer to all his problems.
“So damn pretty,” he says.
Somehow you make it to the booth, a tangle of lips and hands, shedding pieces of clothing as you go. Your bra, his shirt, his belt. Shoes toed off and left in a pile, Joel shoves the table between the vinyl benches to the other side so there’s enough room for him to sit, for him to drag down his jeans and boxers and take his cock in one hand.
Your mouth waters at the sight of it. God, he’s thicker than you remember. One of these days you’re going to take him apart with your tongue.
You could just stand there and admire him but you’re so wet you think you’re going to drip onto the floor. His solid thighs, the dark hair gathered into curls at the base of him trailing up to his navel. If you were a painter you’d put him to a canvas.
Joel spreads his legs wide, and you run a hand down his bare chest before balancing on his shoulder as you step out of your bottoms. It’s almost funny – the two of you naked but for your socks, Joel’s pants around his ankles.
You want him too badly to spare a thought for laughter.
A condom comes from somewhere – his wallet, maybe, or his pocket, you don’t much care – and he slides it on with a hiss.
It’s different than last time. More desperate but in a fun way – and you know this won’t be the last time. You know each other’s bodies, now, and this can be quick, can be dirty, because you’ll be doing it again.
So you don’t waste any time straddling him. Joel lines his cock up with your entrance, his other hand on your hip.
“You ready?” he asks. You lean in to kiss him and sink down at the same time in response.
You moan in tandem as he fills you, the angle different from when you were on your back, so different. The stretch is deeper, and somehow you feel fuller than last time. It’s overwhelming, it’s all-consuming, it’s a little painful.
“Fuck,” Joel groans. “So tight. I ain’t gonna last long.”
It really is a tight fit, so tight you think maybe he was right to ask if you could take him without at least one orgasm to prepare you. The girth of him is splitting you in half, stretching you so much you whimper against his mouth.
Joel’s hands cup your face. “Y’okay?” he says, strained. “Hey, talk to me.”
Your eyes are shut tight, knees pressing hard into his solid thighs as you breathe.
“Need a sec,” you say. “It’s different like this, it’s –”
“I know, baby,” Joel murmurs. “Doin’ so good so far.”
He shifts his hold on you just a little and you whine. The vinyl cracks underneath his shifted weight as he whispers an apology into your shoulder.
The pain of the stretch dulls to an ache and you know what’s just on the other side. You roll your hips and the head of his cock presses exactly where you want it. It sends a shock wave of pleasure through you so intense that you fall forward a little, Joel’s face pressed to your chest.
He presses a kiss to your breastbone, so light you almost miss it as you start to ride him in earnest. Your knees press into the rough vinyl and Joel’s lips find your nipple.
“Didn’t give these ‘nough attention last time,” he says. “My mistake.”
His tongue laves at your breasts, one after the other as you swirl your hips over and over. You tug on his hair as your thighs start to burn but you keep going.
Joel’s teeth scrape against your nipples, the skin of your chest as he nips and soothes, nips and soothes. You’re going to be covered in marks tomorrow.
Maybe it’s the thrill of that, of just seeing him again, maybe it’s how bad you want him, who fucking knows – you’re already so close.
Everything fades away but this. Joel is everywhere, on you, around you, inside you…It’s just the two of you, limbs tangled and sweaty, panting each other’s name.
The smoldering in your belly is a fire climbing higher and higher and you’re going to explode with the heat of it.
Firm, rough-skinned hands hold you steady as you lift and sink, gasping every time he hits that spot inside you.
“Joel, I –”
His grip turns bruising as he starts to fuck you on his own, the wet smack of his balls filling the bar.
“I know, baby,” he pants. “I know. You hear that? You hear me fuckin’ you? You’re takin’ my cock so good.”
You plant your hands on his shoulders and try to meet his thrusts.
“Swear I dreamed ‘bout this,” he growls. “How wet you were. Those fuckin’ noises you make when I –” He circles your clit with his thumb and you keen. “There we go. Just like that.”
“Joel –
“Gonna ruin this booth,” he says with a rough chuckle. His forehead is tacky when you press yours against it.
“I – fuck – need new ones anyway, don’t I?”
Joel grins, all teeth as he pounds into you.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, breath hot on your lips. “Soak my cock. Know you can, so tight and –”
Your orgasm rips through you, a broken litany of Joel and yes and god knows what else torn from your throat as he fucks you through it. His thrusts become erratic and you try to keep your seat as he finishes with a deep groan.
Joel presses more of those light kisses to your collarbones, the base of your throat, so like the one he left on the back of your hand that first night. You drag your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.
“I’ll move in a second,” you say, catching your breath.
“Take your time,” he says. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
His grip on you is practically gentle, fingers lazily stroking patterns into your skin. You drag a hand up and down his chest.
It’s tender. It’s…something it maybe shouldn’t be. Something that doesn’t belong in whatever you’re doing.
You get out of his lap as carefully as you can and stand in front of him, naked. Fucking with a condom is smart and all, but you wonder what it would feel like to have him dripping between your thighs.
He doesn’t hide his stare, though it’s not as charged as before. He’s looking just to look.
“Put your pants on,” you grumble at him. He laughs.
You scoop your clothes off the floor and head for the bathroom. The tarnished mirror displays your sated smile and bright eyes. You run a hand over the bruises he left on your neck, your hips. Well-fucked is a good look on you. You look exhausted but happy.
Joel is dressed and back at the tabletop when you return. He’s got his usual bottle of whiskey on the wood, two glasses already sporting a pour each.
“Not workin’ anymore, are you?” he asks you.
You laugh. “No.”
The soreness starts to settle into your thighs when you take the stool next to him.
The momentary silence isn’t uncomfortable. It is comfortable, which is the strange part. Sitting here with him at your bar after he fucked you a few feet away and sipping at your drinks.
Joel, for his part, seems unbothered. You can’t figure him out. It makes you feel a little unsteady to know that he sees right through you, but you don’t know what he’s thinking. Would he tell you if you asked?
“So,” he says. “What’re your plans for the place?”
You sigh. A piece of his hair is sticking up and you tuck your hand between your thighs so you don’t smooth it. It’s different with your clothes on.
“There’s a lot to do,” you tell him. “Jukebox is broken. Neon signs need replacing. Plumbing could do with a refresh. I want to refinish the floors, maybe tear off this ugly wallpaper –”
“Make sure you get a good gel for that,” he says. “Shit’s old and won’t come off easy.”
You lean your chin in your hand and shoot him an amused look.
“Do a lot of wallpaper removal in your spare time?” you ask.
He fiddles with his watch, jaw working around whatever it is he wants to say.
“I’m a contractor.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he grumbles. “You think I sit on my ass all day?”
Honestly, you don’t know. Most of the thoughts you have about Joel aren’t to do with his job. You have no idea what he does when he isn’t here.
You shrug. Joel rolls his eyes.
“Well, I am,” he drawls. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “And I know the folks around here who you’ll need. Materials, all that.”
“Are you offering to help me, Joel?” You keep your voice neutral.
He looks at you head-on. It feels like he’s seeing through you again. “If you want it.”
“If we do that, it has nothing to do with…” You gesture between you. “With this.”
Joel just looks at you, letting you sort out what you want to say.
“I mean, I don’t want charity, okay?”
He shakes his head. “Ain’t charity. I owe Bill some favors. This’ll square us up. You’ll cover all the other shit, I guess.”
“It’s not his bar, anymore,” you remind him, but it’s a weak protest.
Joel knocks back the rest of his drink.
You’ve been working out how to finance the renovations all week. All that cash you’ve squirreled away over the years finally has a purpose, other than a cushion in case something really bad happens. It’s looking tight between paying the staff and sourcing the work. You’d only be able to close a week at a time and any delays will fuck the whole thing.
But if Joel’s offering discounted labor, materials on the cheap? You could get it all done faster, get it done right.
“Why do you want to help me?” you ask.
Joel huffs and if you knew him better you’d say it was in offense.
“Let’s just say I’m invested in the state of this place,” he says. “And you really gotta replace those booths.”
Your face feels hot. “Asshole.”
“So,” he says. “You interested?”
It’s not a bad idea. Hell, it might even be a good one. Money aside, Joel, whatever his story is, is connected in this town, and if you’re staying it would do you some good to start making some connections of your own. Start settling.
The fist in your chest, your heart, your mind – it loosens just a little bit.
“I’m interested.”
Joel knocks on the bar once, twice, and stands. He digs in his back pocket for his wallet and hands you a business card with his phone number.
“I’ll be here Monday morning,” he says. “We can start goin’ over stuff, figure out when you wanna close. All that. Call me anytime. Sound good?”
You just nod. The fatigue is starting to hit and Joel must be able to tell because he just smiles at you.
“Goodnight, boss lady,” he says. “Put the whiskey on my tab.”
Joel grabs his jacket and unlocks the door, sliding into the cool night with a wave.
“You don’t have a tab, asshole,” you mutter, but you’re smiling a little.
It feels like pieces are falling into place.
You know you could get the bar fixed up on your own. But with Joel’s help, it’ll get done faster and you might even have some money left over at the end of it.
It’s a lot all at once. But for some reason, it feels different this time. It’s not another job about to fall through, not another relationship going south because you got spooked. It’s not you getting bored and cutting your losses.
You want this. You want it to work. Usually, you’d have left by now, before you got too attached, but it’s too late so you’re going to make it work.
This thing with Joel, though – you’re going to have to be careful. If you’re not, it’ll run away from you and – well. You don’t want to lose control of it.
You look around the bar and sigh. Unwiped tables, a booth that no one should sit in, floors to clean. A few hours of work before bed.
You know you’re going to spend them trying not to think about the man who just left.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!
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"34+35"
summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! a little smut, inspired by Ariana Grande's song "34+35" enjoy it!! xoxo.
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!
Word count: about 1,4k
The clock struck 2:30 AM, but the night was just beginning for them. In the small apartment in London the rain slid down the windows creating an intimate atmosphere that enveloped them. They had planned to "watch a movie," although both knew it was just a pretext.
Jude Bellingham, a well-known footballer, lay back on the bed, his tight shirt revealing every line of his muscles. You, a fashion design student, had carefully chosen your outfit: comfortable, but revealing enough to spark the imagination, a loose shirt of Jude's and just your underwear. From the moment your eyes met, you both knew the real attraction of the night wasn't on the screen.
You lay on the bed, your legs casually crossed, but you knew exactly how to draw his attention. Jude watched you, his dark gaze full of intentions you couldn't ignore.
"Are you sure you want to watch a movie?" he asked, with a mischievous smile, leaning in so his lips were dangerously close to your ear. "Because I have better ideas for how to spend the time."
You smiled, feigning disinterest as you toyed with the remote. "Oh, really? And what would you suggest?"
He raised an eyebrow, his fingers brushing slowly against the exposed skin of your thighs. "I could teach you some tricks you won't learn in your classes... and promise you won't be bored."
You laughed softly, feeling the tickle of his touch. "I hope you're not all talk and no action."
"I don't usually disappoint on the field, or off it," he replied, pulling you closer by the waist. Your gazes met, and in the sparkle of his eyes, you could see the promise of an endless night.
Later, as soft music filled the room, you looked at him with a cheeky smile while he ran his fingers through your hair. "Tell me, have you ever been with someone who can keep up with you until sunrise?"
You looked at him challengingly, leaning closer. "And have you ever met someone who doesn't let you rest?"
The tension between them was felt in every sigh and stolen glance. He seized every opportunity to come closer and drop hints that exposed his intentions, while you remained playful, enjoying the game.
As he wrapped an arm around you, he leaned in and whispered in your ear with a mischievous grin. "I won't deny it, I've been imagining you differently all night... and none of it includes that outfit."
You raised an eyebrow, amused as you moved slightly away just to provoke him. "Wow, is that the best you've got? You should work on your lines, or you might think you impress me just with that pretty face."
He laughed, keeping his composure, his eyes slowly scanning you from head to toe. "I don't need lines if you know what I have down there... And believe me, what I'm imagining will keep you awake all night."
You looked at him with feigned surprise and leaned in close enough for your lips to brush his without actually kissing him. "Oh really? All night? How ambitious. But look, it's not that easy. I might be the one leaving you begging for a break."
He smiled, amused and provocative, not backing away an inch. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. But I warn you, I don't tire easily. And I don't care how many times we have to 'train' to get it right."
You laughed, theatrically placing your hand on your chest. "Oh, look at you... all athletic in every way. Too bad not all your tricks impress me."
He looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes, sliding his fingers along your waist until you shivered slightly. "Then I'll have to show you some moves that aren't taught in training. Ready for a private lesson?"
You pushed him gently with a mocking smile, enjoying the game. "You take this teaching thing very seriously... But what if I end up teaching you something?"
He moved even closer, softly pinning you against the bed, his lips a whisper away from yours. "I think that's a lesson I'm eager to learn.. And I don't plan on skipping a single second."
"I've been drinking coffee and eating healthy all day," you said, with a provocative tone as you leaned towards him. "I hope you can keep up."
Jude handled your body as if you were a feather, turning you around so that you were at the level of his crotch and he was at yours. "Thanks for making my job easier," he said, referring to your clothes.
What followed was the most delicious experience you've ever had... Jude's long tongue ravaged your pussy mercilessly. He sucked on your clitoris, driving you to your limit, and you couldn't handle it anymore, moaning loudly.
Soon, as Jude licked your pussy you helped him pull down his boxers so you could take the next step. Damn, his cock is huge; you know it because it's always been hard for you to take him due to the size difference between you. Amidst your moans, you tried to take his cock into your mouth, sucking on the head and helping with your hand to fully caress it.
Jude inserted two fingers inside you, giving your ass a playful slap. "That's it, baby, you're doing great," he grunted.
You couldn't take it anymore; damn, you couldn't stand it!! You came, releasing your fluids at the same time as Jude... oh? That was really hot.
It didn't end there, and you and him continued fucking. Damn, this man really keeps his word.
Your legs were trembling from the overexcitement; you had never experienced this. Jude settled you with a smile on his face, cleaned you up, and found comfortable clothes for you
Hours passed like a sigh, and when dawn began to peek through the window, they were still immersed in their own world, wrapped in disheveled sheets and unspoken promises. Their bodies fit perfectly together, creating countless moments where words were unnecessary, and only the pure sensation of being together remained.
"We could do this every night," he whispered, stroking your hair as you nestled against his chest, both breathing in sync, exhausted but satisfied.
"And who says we won't?" you replied, closing your eyes with a smile on your lips.
That morning, there were no alarms to pull them out of their dream. The movie they never watched remained paused on the screen, but for them, the real action had happened off-camera. Because in that small room, night and day blended together, and all that mattered was the promise of a new adventure when the lights went out again.
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