#I’m not going to pretend to understand her taste in men

[everythingisouroboros]

Nobody else is going to woobify Klaasje so I guess I have to. If Sunday Friend wants her dead, that’s good enough for me. She’s beyond criticism.

#I’m not going to pretend to understand her taste in men #but she can sleep with a mass killer if she wants to. As a treat #disco elysium #klaasje amandou

[writemekpop]

Bad Girl | Jung Jaehyun

Summary: Jung Jaehyun is the first guy you’ve ever met who isn’t attracted to you. You’re determined to seduce him. 

Genre: Enemies to lovers AU

Word Count: 1.5k

As you walked into the first play rehearsal, you felt your heart stutter. 

A painfully hot guy was standing by the cast-only coffee table. He was tall, statuesque, in a long black coat and glasses. His chest strained at the fabric of his white shirt, as if his stiff body couldn’t be contained.   

"Hey, you must be Jung Jaehyun," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. Now, you just had to wait for him to start drooling - guys couldn't resist you. 

"Afternoon," Jaehyun said. He barely glanced at you. Was he gay or something? "Thank goodness you're here, we're out of tea." 

You blinked. "Sorry…I’m your co-lead? I play Margot Warner, your character's wife?" 

He stretched out his hand to shake yours, stiffly. "Apologies - I thought you were the coffee girl." 

Damn it, even his cold stare of indifference was sexy.  

"Let’s start with the argument scene," the director said. 

You and Jaehyun took centre stage. "Does my gaze make you feel nothing?" you breathed, looking into his eyes. "My touch?" You twined your fingers in his heavenly soft hair. "My kiss?" 

Standing on your tiptoes, you squeezed a kiss to his lips. They were cool as marble. 

Jaehyun stared into your eyes. Now, overcome with desire, his character was meant to tear the buttons off your shirt and pull you close, just as the lights dimmed. 

But Jaehyun stepped away from you. "Time out!" He sighed. "I just cannot understand what my character sees in hers. Why does he suddenly give in?" 

The director nodded. "He’s right. We need some chemistry here, guys! This is… PG-13 at best.” 

Jaehyun looked at you. "Listen, you may have never seduced a man, but you are going to have to pretend. That is of course, what actors do." 

You could just strangle him. Never seduced a man?  Jaehyun thought he was so much better than you, with his stupid little theatre degree from Harvard. 

You didn’t need a fancy degree to be a good actor. Plus, you could eat Harvard boys for breakfast - and you had. You’d tasted half the football team, in fact. 

Four hours later, you still hadn’t got the scene. 

The director looked like he'd had enough. "Sort out the chemistry by tomorrow, or I’m firing one of you. Which one do you think I should fire?" 

"Him!" you said, at the same time as Jaehyun snapped, 'Her!" 

You stormed up the stairs of the auditorium to get your bag from one the seats. Chemistry problem. Bullshit. That was like saying Albert Einstein had an intelligence problem. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Jaehyun said. 

A tiny shiver ran down your spine. 

"Are you really going to give up on the scene that easily?" Jaehyun taunted. "I've seen chihuahas with longer attention spans." 

"It’s tough acting against a brick wall," you shot back. 

Jaehyun shuddered. "If I have to teach you how to act, I will. Come here."

You walked over to him. 

"Margot is trying to seduce her husband. Your acting is too unidimensional!" 

"Uni-what?" you said. 

"Obvious! You're playing it too obvious," Jaehyun said. "I can see why that would be a problem for you. The whole Barbie thing usually does the trick with men, doesn't it? With your tight dresses and your… long legs. " He glanced at your body, and quickly looked away. But you’d noticed.   

You smirked. "So you think I'm hot." 

Jaehyun scoffed. "What I'm saying is, you need to play the role with your whole body. Subtle - yet hair-raising." He grabbed your script. "I'll try Margot. Watch and learn." 

Jaehyun stepped towards you. 

On the surface, nothing had changed. But Jaehyun was a different man. His face was flushed, his breaths shaky. His eyes kept flashing to your lips, like it took everything in him not to kiss you. 

"Does my gaze make you feel nothing?" he said quietly, his black eyes searching yours. "My touch?" He twined his fingers in your hair, and you couldn't hide the sound of your breath catching.

Every inch of your skin was alive.

"My kiss?" 

Jaehyun kissed you. His lips were so much gentler than you'd expected. You knew it was just acting, but Jaehyun seemed so into you it made him nervous. His whole body trembled with desire. 

You pulled back, struggling to catch your breath. That kiss was hair-raising.  

Something told you Jaehyun wasn't that good an actor. 

Jaehyun pulled back, his face flushed, a pink cloud of lipstick rimming his mouth. He was biting his plump lips, almost as if he was fighting a smile. "Clear?" 

You smiled. "You've forgotten the end of the scene."

An unreadable expression flashed over Jaehyun’s face. 

“How did it end again?” he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. 

Your eyes fell to Jaehyun’s lips. “Margot and Lewis find the time to… reconnect.” Your fingers found the opening of Jaehyun’s shirt. “To get to know each other again.” 

Jaehyun gulped. “I thought they hated each other.” You started unbuttoning Jaehyun’s shirt, one button at a time. He shivered under your touch. “Hate and love aren’t as different as you think,” you said. 

You abandoned Jaehyun’s shirt on the seats. His body belonged in an art gallery, a sculptor’s impression of the perfect man. Only, Jaehyun was not still and cold anymore. His chest was rising and falling, his flesh hot. 

“This doesn’t mean I’m giving in,” Jaehyun said. “I still abhor you.” 

“And I still don’t give a damn what abhor means,” you said, smirking. Jaehyun hoisted your leg up against his hip. His lips met yours now, hungrily, no script to lead the way. 

On the couch in Jaehyun's big New York apartment, you smirked down at him, stroking his chest. "How was that for seducing a man?" 

"Excellent work," Jaehyun said in mock-seriousness, trying not to look ridiculous despite still panting. "Highly commendable." 

“You know…” you said, nuzzling into his chest, “if you were so into me, why did you act like a jerk?” “I’m married,” he said.

 You felt a pang of disappointment.   

“Divorced, to be precise,” Jaehyun continued. “Eight years. She was my… my first.” He spoke into your hair now. “I didn’t know what to do with the way I felt about you. I know I’m just a fling to you, but-“ “You’re not,” you said, moving to meet his eyes. He was gnawing at his plump lip, and you smoothed your finger over it, stopping him. “The way I felt last night… let’s just say I don’t get that a lot.” Your voice dropped. “Or ever.” “Are you saying I’m the best you’ve ever had?” Jaehyun said, turning you around so he was hovering over you, wearing a smug smirk.

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to earn that title…” you said, fixing your fingers in his hair. 

-- 

The next day, when you returned to rehearsal, something had changed. “You- um, you first,” Jaehyun said, gesturing to the coffee pot. 

“No, really, you,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. You had no idea how to act professionally now. Should you touch Jaehyun? Smile at him? Ignore him completely?  

You both broke out into laughter.  

When it came to that scene, however, you and Jaehyun fought the urge to rush to the end.  

"Does my gaze make you feel nothing - my touch - my kiss, blah blah blah..." you mumbled, then pulled Jaehyun towards you in a kiss that made you weak in the knees. 

A lot of the director’s throat-clearing later, Jaehyun finally prised you off him, and you stood next to each other. The spotlights were a little blurry – or was that your eyes?  

The director started a slow clap, his mouth ajar. 

"Will these two set the house on fire? I think so!" He walked towards you, lowering his voice. "But really, how did you do it? What's the secret?"

You grinned at Jaehyun. "We were just acting. That is, of course, what actors do." 

—     

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

#jaehyun #nct 127 #nct smut #nct fluff #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #kpop imagines #nct reactions #nct drabbles #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct suggestive #nct hard hours #nct angst #jaehyun angst #jung jaehyun #nct x reader #nct fanfiction #yoonoh smut #yoonoh

[fryingpan1234567]

movies I think every demigod loves

Focusing on CHB for now but we’ll get to the Romans eventually

These nerds all know the whole entire soundtrack for every single one with the choreo and everything

Massive viewing parties in the winter in random cabins that definitely can’t hold everybody and the amphitheater in the summer with a projector

Hecate campers have enchanted a fuck ton of those old plastic popcorn containers with the same magic as the dishes in the pavilion— every kind of popcorn, the perfect amount of butter, kettle corn, for some reason a blue one that apparently tastes like cotton candy (or so Percy says; no one else has dared to try it)

Sharing endless amounts of blankets and pillows

Everyone usually passes out towards the end of the night, resulting in the hugest bed nest known to man full of shreepy demigods

Literally every streaming service ever plus premium Hephaestus channels

Anyways onto the movies

We’re starting with Mamma Mia

Because let’s be honest— a big pretty Greek island with a ton of hot people and fabulous music?? Yeah they’re into it

Who doesn’t love Abba?

That fun little “WEEE’RE SOPHIE ALI LISA WE’RE THE GREATEST BESTEST MATES, I’M TALL— I’M TOUGH— I’M TINY— AND WE’RE GONNA ROCK THIS PLACE!!” is such a vibe

Everyone gets into groups of three just to sing it with each other, including

Percy as Tall, Annabeth as Tough, and Grover as Tiny

Jason as Tall, Piper as Tough, and Leo as Tiny

Connor and Will even convinced Nico to be the Tiny to their Tough and Tall once

Anyways everybody screaming the lyrics and dancing around, swinging each other in chaotic circles until they collapse laughing

By FAR the loudest they ever get is Dancing Queen— Chiron says it’s something to rival their battle cry and Dionysus pretends to be annoyed by it, but he’s always caught humming it to himself the next morning

”Well what do you suggest we do with three men?” “Well now that takes me back.” WHEN I TELL YOU EVERYBODY SCREAMS

Couples singing Honey Honey and Lay All Your Love On Me suuuper dramatically at each other

They’ve turned it into a challenge: how long can you two go, mercilessly flirting and teasing, before either of you break and end up making out? (The answer is not very long)

Splitting into two groups (mainly girls v boys but really it doesn’t matter) to scream Voulez-Vous at each other

It’s a competition

After the end of the movie, everyone goes and jumps into the lake in their clothes— this massive, shouting, laughing mass of magical teenagers booking it across camp just to go flying off the docks into the water

Moving on to another movie

You c a n n o t tell me they wouldn’t love Disney’s Hercules

I mean they hate it, obviously, but like. A Disney movie about them. What!!

Especially the littles

The littles looove this fucking movie you don’t even understand

They sit eagerly waiting to see the garbage caricatures of their parents onscreen, collapsing on each other in giggles when they do

The older kids still get a kick out of it, but Connor sulks in Malcolm’s lap anytime his dad is on, hiding his face in his chest and refusing to look

(“Mal, he looks so dumb.”

”Sweetheart—“

”SO STUPID.”

”You’re so dramatic—“

”LOOK AT HIM.”)

They make Chiron sing One Last Hope every damn time

Funny thing is, the projector they have now is not the first one. There was one before, which mysteriously went up in purple flames the first time Mr. D watched with them… coincidentally at the exact moment Disney Dionysus popped up on screen in all his drunken fuscia glory

Poor Nico di Angelo wants to say no to watching it every time, but his favorite of Will’s little siblings, Lilac, begs him to because it’s her favorite Disney movie

So there he is next to Will, Lilac watching eagerly from his lap, Nico bonking his head on Will’s shoulder every time the TERRIBLE interpretation of his dad is on

Will laughs at him

Nico pouts and says he’s mean and threatens to shadow travel Lilac to the nearest candy store and get her whatever she wants just to hand her back to him for the night with a raging sugar rush

When the 7 dress up as the Avengers for Halloween one year, it’s added to the rotation.

Percy was Black Widow

Leo was Spider-Man

Jason was Captain America

Piper was Iron Man

Annabeth was Thor

Hazel was Black Panther

Frank was the Hulk

Nobody was prepared for the level of hotness that they brought to the table, but the Marvel fanatics were definitely prepared to start watching the movies

Eventually it devolves into a big war over who the best character is

The smash or pass is getting out of hand guys

lmk if you think of any more I’d love to write them

#Marvel #mamma mia #disney hercules #riordanverse #percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #piper mclean #annabeth chase #frank zhang #hazel levesque #Nico di Angelo #will solace #malcolm pace #connor stoll #solangelo #malconnor

[theanonwriter]

friends close, enemies closer: part 1

A/N: hey guys!! i’m starting this JJ fic bc i am currently obsessed with outerbanks and wanna live my hot girl fantasy! join me if you want ;) LOTS OF LOVE!

-

Summary: When your parents unexpectedly become wealthy from good investments, you're forced to leave your old life in the Cut and move to Figure Eight.  Right when you finally start to move on (thanks to the help of your best friend, Sarah Cameron), your old friends are suddenly forced into your life again. Getting comfortable with them means discovering their new lives and making amends for the past. And just when things couldn't possibly get any more complicated, you have to deal with your lingering feelings with a certain hot-headed blond. 

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: just swearing for this one!

-

You hated lunch at Kildare Preparatory Academy. It wasn’t that it was bad or anything, but it was certainly not good. There was no added butter, no oil, and obviously no love. It all tasted like it would have been sold downtown, at one of the new juice bars or vegan cafes. 

Sarah didn’t seem to mind, though. She was digging into her panini and pasta salad, gossiping with you as you sat at a table in the sun. You listened in silence, letting the warmth cover your bare legs. You were glad you met her. There was always a cliche in movies that the pretty, popular girl bullied the introverted new girl. But that wasn't true. Sarah accepted you into her circle. She invited you to parties, showed you the cool way to plait your hair, and made Kooks see you as one of them, rather than a Pogue whose parents hit it big.

Even though moving schools during freshman year was hard, it was moments like this that made you glad that your family made it. Kildare County High School was a mess, falsely beautified by newly lacquered gym floors and covered in finger-print-smudged windows. Kildare Prep was gorgeous, wrapped in ivy with Tiffany blue glass stained windows. You sighed contentedly and opened your eyes again to find Sarah staring at you. 

“I have something to tell you.” She announced, looking like she would burst. You raise your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to spill whatever it was that had been weighing on her mind. “I started seeing someone.”

You wanted to pretend that you were shocked, but you weren't. Sarah had a bad history with men. The bad part being how fast she went through them. 

“I know what you’re thinking: ‘Sarah, another one?’ I know! But I actually really like him. He’s not like anyone else I know.”

You grin at your friend, seeing the blush rise on her cheeks. You send her a knowing smile. Witnessing Sarah giddy with excitement was a special kind of happiness. “Who is it?”

Her smile faded slightly, and she took a deep breath. “Well, it’s- hm. It’s…John Routledge.” You open your mouth to burst in, but she quickly talks over you. “I know! I know you know each other, and I know you’re gonna be so pissed, but it’s different! He is so sweet, and he just understands me, like everything that's going on with Rafe and Dad." She pauses briefly and searches your eyes. "You know I’m right. You would know better than anyone.” 

You knew all too well. Before your family earned big on investments your dad made, you used to live right next to John B. He, along with Pope Heyward and JJ Maybank used to be your best friends. You spent all day together, fishing and surfing, getting so sunburnt that you couldn't walk. They were always there for you, no matter what.

After you moved, it was radio silence from them. Not that you wanted it to be, but they never reached out after you left their side of the island. Ever since then, you became a stranger to them.

“Sarah.” Is all you say, mouth left hanging open. You can't help but stare at her. 

“Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.” She deadpans, a slight smirk extending across her face. “Plus, tell me that you never miss them. This could be good for you!”

“And if you break up?”

“Then nothing will change! You don’t talk at all. Please, Y/N, don’t be mad at me.”

Her reaction takes you back. Being mad never even crossed your mind. Shock that she would even hang out with Pogues, yes, but never anger.

“Mad? I’m not mad. I’m…I want to be happy for you. It might just take me some time to warm up to them again.” You reply, stealing a piece of pasta salad off Sarah’s plate with your fingers. You scowl as you taste the vinegar, far too strong for your liking.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us this weekend? Just to get you comfortable with them again. I've never met his friends, and I want you there. You’ll see, he’s so mature now. Plus, he’s hot too!”

Hot? That was never the word you would associate with John B. Nerdy and kinda bashful maybe, but definitely not the "hot" boy in the group.

“Ew! If I say yes, will you stop bugging me about a boy I grew up with, who at one point was practically my brother?”

She laughs out loud, arms spread wide and face set towards the sun. “Yes! I swear, I’ll be quiet forever!”

You grin at how happy she is. She looks so free like this, smiling at the sun with her golden hair practically blinding you. “I don't want you to be quiet forever. Just for now. And maybe for the next week."

-

The ride back home was slow. Sometimes, you wondered what life would have been like if you stayed in the Cut. Would your car be packed full of your old friends? Dopey boys changing the station, or a certain blond trying to light up in your front seat? Would your parents even be able to afford a second car at all? You feel like a loser thinking back on stuff that you can’t change now, but you can’t help it. What Sarah said to you weighed heavy on your mind today. What happened to the friendship you had with them?

You pulled into your lengthy driveway, spotting your brother's dusty car sitting in the garage. It was the end of May, so he would be coming back to the island soon. You missed him so much, it physically hurt you. 

With him home, there was only one thing left to wait for: summer. 

As much as you needed your days free, along with the ability to call your friends whenever to go get ice cream, summer only led to what you dreaded: college applications.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life. How the hell would you? You were still a child, how could you figure out what you were supposed to do for the rest of your life? With your family's new wealth, your parents were very stubborn about the fact that you and your brother would go to a prestigious school where you would get a top-notch education.

However, that was not something you were interested in. Your brother went to school in Indiana, at Notre Dame University. They expected you to follow him. 

You wanted to stay local. Not commuter close, per se, but close enough that you could drive him if you needed more contacts or a new prescription. You couldn't stand to be far from the water, the only place that brought you stability and comfort. 

But your parents insisted that you would leave and see what else there was. So you would.

You parked your car and jogged up the stairs, kicking your shoes off and hanging up your backpack before heading to the outdoor shower to change into your wetsuit. In the warmer months, you taught younger kids how to surf in the afternoon. You loved the challenge of trying to get kiddos to not be spooked by the waves and going under. 

The beach had been the first place you and the Pogues had for yourself. Your parents were never there and there were no concerns about not having enough money to fill the boat with gas. Your surfboard was second-hand and coated in wax, but it was yours and that was enough. 

You used to all have matching anklets, constructed from pieces of sea junk and old rope found in John B’s surf shack. You lost yours swimming with Sarah the year before, but you wish you still had it. It was one of the only reminders you had of them. 

You changed quickly and headed to the beach. Lessons were exhausting, but the little girl that you taught today made you smile. She was six years old, and her name was Penny. She had long, blonde hair and shiny blue eyes, just like she was meant for the coast. She looked so similar to JJ, who was your absolute rock during your girlhood.

He was always at the beach at the same time you were. You never talked to him and he never even looked at you. He made you feel like there was never anything even there between you two, which hurt you more than you cared to acknowledge. Yes, you two had grown apart. But to act like a stranger? There was a point in your life where you would call JJ your brother, your best friend. Now you were nobody.

He was with John B and Pope, laughing and chilling on their boards in the water. Every now and then, you could see Pope splash at his friends, rolling his eyes when they said something idiotic. When a wave came by, they rode it together. You constantly saw them chuckling when they wiped out and help each other cough salt water out of their lungs. 

When John B caught your eye, he smiled a bit and waved. He always either nodded or half-smiled, but a wave was foreign to you. You grinned back shyly, unsure of how to respond. When the other two boys looked over at you, you suddenly felt like a target.

JJ did not seem as forgiving as John B. His eyes narrowed at you, scoffing a bit and mumbling something before he turned back to the group. 

Pope smirked at his comment, but John B did not seem impressed. You watched him yell at his best friend, and though you couldn't hear what he said over the waves, you could guess it wasn't nice. 

The fact that you knew they were not only making fun of you but arguing because of you, made you uneasy. The last thing you wanted was to create a rift in the friend group, as you knew how much they all depended on each other. You glanced around for Kie, but you couldn't find her. 

You guys had kept in touch when you both moved, but you never were the best of friends. You spoke at parties and occasionally you saw her strolling the boardwalk, but you never hung out. If you were honest, you were a bit jealous of her. Why wouldn't you be? She still had them. 

Growing up together as the only girls in a group of boys, you constantly were pitted against each other. Always being compared over everything, especially your looks, became tiring for both you. It wasn't either of your faults, but it created a barrier between the two of you. 

Soon enough, the class was over, and you could flee the beach. You practically ran home, desperate for a shower and dying to call Sarah and tell her what happened. 

The phone rang twice before she picked up the call. 

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

You switched your board from under your left arm to your right, and readjusted your phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need to tell you what just happened because I’m like, kinda geeked.”

You described the situation to her, breaking in the middle to let Sarah ask her most pressing question: Which board shorts was John B wearing? The blue ones with the suns or the stripes?

“Well, I’m glad he stuck up for you. I’m confused though. I've heard that JJ was nice. Maybe he was having a bad day? Or maybe he wasn't even talking about you.”

You puff out your cheeks and let out a deep breath. “I don’t know man, he seemed pretty pissed at me.”

“Well, there's nothing you can do about it now. Hey, are you coming to the club tonight? There's that barbeque for Memorial Day that my parents are making me go to.” Sarah asked, shutting the door to her closet and walking down the hallway. You heard Ward in the background questioning her, but she muted and gave you the "one-sec" motion before she answered him. 

You texted her that you were gonna hang up, but that your parents were also forcing you to go so you could suffer together. You made a fart noise into the speaker before you pressed the little red button, and laughed to yourself at the thought of Sarah hearing that as she squabbled with her dad. 

By the time you made it to the club, Sarah had already finished her food. She rolled her eyes as she saw you speedwalk to the table with your plate in hand. She took a long sip of her lemonade as she examined you up and down. “Well, at least you look good.”

“Shut up. I had work,” you reply, sliding into the chair next to hers and placing a napkin on your lap. “Plus, most of the food was gone. There was like, nothing left.”

“Maybe you shouldn't have been late then! I don’t know, just a thought.” Sarah mocked, laughing at your side-eye. “Hey, real talk though. I need some advice.”

“What?” You ask, covering your mouth with your hand as you chowed down on your pulled pork sandwich. 

“Well, John B said that when we all hang out Kie is gonna come. And it’s not that I don’t wanna see her, it's just that- well, I guess I don't wanna see her.”

“Why?” 

You knew why. Everyone knew why. You really hoped their beef wouldn't make the reunion any more awkward than it already would be. 

“It ended so badly between us. She literally left school because of me. I was such a bitch.” Sarah sighed, pushing some of her golden hair over her shoulder. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” You laughed, raising your eyebrows at her. “Sarah, be real. Do you think he would invite her if she was gonna make it a big deal?” 

She cocked her head to the side, eyes searching for something on the pristine golf course before shaking her head. 

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Exactly. You worry too much. If I can do it, you can too. My situation is worse, I’d say.”

Sarah giggled and drained the rest of her drink. “Yeah, probably. Hey, are you seriously okay about hanging with them? I know it might be a little awkward.”

Honestly, you didn't want to go back to them. It would be painful, to hear their inside jokes that you no longer had any idea about and re-acquainting yourself with the life that could have been yours. As much as you loved the life your parents has built for you, there were times that you missed the easygoing nature of the Cut and evenings at the Chateau with Big John. 

 “It’ll be more than a little awkward at first. I mean, JJ can’t even look at me and Pope can’t help but to laugh at JJ’s snide comments. But I’ll do it for you.”

“What do you remember about them? JJ and Pope?” Sarah asks, pulling her cardigan tighter around her tan shoulders as the wind started to wind up.

“Well, Pope is a genius. Always has been. Kind of a suck-up, but that’s just him. He’ll always help out if he can, and he’s super genuine. I honestly don’t think there's a bad bone in his body.” You stop and take a deep breath. You didn’t really like to allow yourself to think of them too often. “And JJ, he’s-”

“You used to like him, didn’t you? I feel like I remember you saying that.”

You instantly blushed at Sarah's words. You had drunkenly told her that one night during one of your “ladies' nights”. In other words, you each stole a bottle of wine from your parents and got wine drunk. 

“Well, yeah kinda. I guess. It was strange. He was my best friend. He was always there for me, especially when my dad was going through it. We were similar in a lot of ways. He was proud and courageous. He taught me how to surf on a board he stole from a random tourist. He said the most out-of-pocket shit, but somehow when he says it, it’s just funny.  He’s so fucking funny.” You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. When Sarah notices, she grabs your hand. 

“Sorry if that was too much, we can stop. I know it’s hard for you.”

You watch the sun disappear under the water, the sky filling with oranges and light pinks while the steady May breeze brushes over your skin. You felt Sarah's head lean on your shoulder, and you placed yours on top of her own. 

“You are the best person I could have ever hoped would come into my life. I love you.” Sarah sighed, feeling the smile grow on her face from where she was propped on your shoulder. 

“Love you more.” You replied back, watching your father play golf with other men of the club as you soaked up the lays rays of the holiday sun. 

#outerbanks #jj maybank #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #outer banks #netflix #fic #eneimes to lovers #obx #outerbanks fic #newseries #new series #outerbanksfic #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #sarah cameron #john b obx #pope heyward #john b routledge #love #get ready

[throwingmetothelions]

Stress Relief

Nick Ruffilo x OC (Aaliyah)

Slow and soft Nicholas sex? You mean my favorite thing in the entire world?

Please understand that this is not for kids. This fic has been fighting me like fuck for 3 weeks. Take it away I don’t wanna see it again.

“So you’re taking it seriously this time? What’s he gonna say when he finds out that you’ve mastered Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in the 4 years you’ve owned this thing,” I jabbed as my brother threw a balled up napkin at my head.

“Fuck you. I also know how to play the intro to Brain Stew … Mom tell her!” Jackson yelled across the dinner table as I smirked into my plate of chicken and rice.

“Okay … okay. Aaliyah he’s serious this time. I mean he picked up that D he had in Chemistry and he’s been mowing the lawn and weeding for 3 months to prove that this is what he wants. We think he could actually get somewhere with this tutor,” our mom let out. “He’s home from touring in some band he plays in. Really doing us a favor by offering these lessons. He’s Denise’s kid if you remember her from church. Real quiet thing,” she slowly picked apart her spaghetti while we went back to eating in silence.

Color me shocked honestly. My younger brother Jackson raised hell with our parents for 6 months after he saw that ESP in the window of the music shop downtown. I swore he only wanted it because it was shiny and purple, and our parents were desperate for their 12 year old son to show interest in anything outside of video games and sleeping until 1 pm.

They bought it for him, and it sat. And it sat. And dust collected. And it sat.

I had just come back home after wrapping up the first semester of my final year of college. Coming back home wasn’t necessarily on my to-do list, but there was no denying that coming back to where the food is free and someone else does your laundry for a little bit can’t hurt.

I was brought out of my head by my father clearing his throat the way that old men do. “Aaliyah. We’re going to head over to the Anderson’s house tomorrow. Lexi’s got this book club wine tasting situation she’s started with your mom, and I told Tom that I’d take a look at the motor in that boat he just bought. He got the same one we did a few months back and I think I know why it’s sputtering,” my dad paused and looked at the ceiling, “but we need you to be home because it’s going to be an all afternoon affair, and someone has to let Nick in,” he stated.

Pointing my fork at Jackson without saying anything, I shot an eyebrow at my father.

“Ah. Jackass over there is serving detention on a Saturday for signing himself out of his last period class four times in a week. If I hadn’t already paid Nick for this lesson I’d tell him not to bother. He said something about just changing his strings and taking the pickguard off, or whatever the fuck. Just be here to let him come work. Should be like 2 hours,” he grumbled with anger and garlic on his breath.

“Hmm. No problem. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to shower and hang out upstairs. The weight of being the favorite child really takes a toll,” I laughed as I pretended to crack my back earning me another balled up napkin to the hip.

———————

There’s a place off Ocean Avenue where I used to sit and -

I hadn’t changed the alarm tone I had set on my old iPod Touch even though I’d graduated middle school almost a decade ago. It’s still the same.

Tired hands rubbed tired eyes as I rolled over and out of bed and steadied myself against my childhood dresser. Mind numbingly bright numbers read 2:30 pm. Fucking great. I checked my phone and saw that my mom had put something in the family group chat.

Birthgiver: Hey Peanut. Dad and I left a bit early. Sale at Costco on that brie I use when I make the mac n cheese for Sunday dinners. Nick will be there around 3. Money for food is in junk drawer. Jax will be home at 7. BETTER BE 🤬. We’ll be later. Let me know if you need something, but try not to need something 😉

She really had a way with words.

I found myself mentally exploding them all momentarily because I had approximately 25 minutes until Mr. Too Optimistic Guitar Man showed up. I threw my hair into a high ponytail while trying to ignore the product buildup I could so clearly feel. The shirt I ripped from the confines of my suitcase was a beat up Motionless In White tee that had seen many teenage tears, and the cherries of a few late night cigs judging by the burn holes. Black leggings finished off the look, and I jogged downstairs to figure out what I could shove in my face now so I wouldn’t disturb Nick later.

I walked across the hardwood past the living room until I hit the fridge. As my fingers touched the stainless steel handle … *ding dong*.

2:48.

He’s early.

My eyebrows creased as I padded over to let him in.

——-

Truthfully, I had remembered what he looked like - Denise’s son. A few vacation bible camps, and the handful of times he showed up to my school to watch his sister perform in the yearly plays.

That just couldn’t have been the same boy that stood before me as I opened the door. About 5’10, shaggy black hair that fell right above his shoulders, and tattoos covering his exposed forearms and hands. He wore a faded Foo Fighters tee underneath a red and brown flannel, and his black jeans had a few too many rips for him to have bought them like that.

“So … can I come in or …,” he chuckled nervously as he lifted his backpack and guitar case to imply that he’d like nothing more than to lay his heavy shit down.

“Y-yeah. Yes,” I cleared my throat as I stepped to the side. “You must be Nick,” I questioned as he placed his stuff on the couch and took off his flannel.

He faced away from me as he shook his head slightly. “It would be a damn shame if I wasn’t seeing as I’m standing in your living room,” he said with a quirked eyebrow.

I stood motionless with my lips parted.

He was right after all.

“That might have been a little rude. I’m sorry,” he shook the hair from in front of his eyes and held his hand out toward me, “I’m Nick,” he smiled.

“Aaliyah,” my head tilted to the side.

“So if you’re cool with it I’m gonna grab the guitar from Jack’s room and bring it out here. More space, and I don’t really want to work in a teenage boy’s cave. I was one once. Not too safe to just sit on surfaces and shit, ya know,” he stated pointedly while traveling up the stairs.

A well timed snort left my body and I shook my head while traveling back into the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water and I threw some cherries in a bowl before I plopped down in an armchair. I was going to eat my breakfast come hell or highwater … in this case, hell or the hot dude that was currently padding around the upstairs of my house.

Soon enough Nick could be heard jogging back down with the instrument in hand. He paused as he walked in front of me, and my eyes met his. His eyebrows were completely furrowed yet quirked, and his mouth was drawn into a tight line.

It was the face one makes when they know that the handle of a door is sticky, but they watch others open it anyway after instructed not to. A smidge of disappointment, an awkward silence, and the strong urge to laugh when only they know why.

“What,” I questioned through a mouthful of cherries.

“You been uh … blowing the Kool Aid man or something? You have cherry juice all down your shirt,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I’m here to tell you it was not.

“I also shut your door on my way down,” he said under his breath as he got to work taking the strings out of the guitar and wrapping them up into rings around his fingers.

A ball of lead filled my stomach, and a burn took over my face. Blame it on my routine being fucked up, blame it on being home and getting too comfortable, or blame it on hormones - I instantly knew exactly what it was that made that man explicitly tell me that he shut my door. It was the light pink vibrator, my previously soaked panties, and the clear glass toy that I accidentally left on the floor next to the laundry hamper where I usually hid them. I always shut my door, but again. I’m playing the blame game.

Nicholas cleared his throat as he turned his head towards me. He went back and forth on his feet while staring at my reddened cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. It’s been tough coming back and moving all my shit and then -,” he cut me off by holding both hands up in the air.

“Hey. I’m just letting you know I shut it. It’s fine dude - you and I, we’re adults. Everyone needs a little stress reliever every blue moon. Or ya know, everyday, or whatever,” his eyes went back to the guitar on the couch as he cracked his knuckles for emphasis “and I don’t know what the fuck Jackson did to these pickups but I feel like I might need a stress reliever myself after this,” he chuckled as his eyes lingered on my face before he opened his bag again.

His words hit me directly in my core as I stared off in the direction of the kitchen. The thought of Nick laying back and working himself over bounced around in my head like the DVD logo on the corner of a forgotten television.

Did he tilt his head back and let his eyes flutter shut? Did his lips part when his fingers ran through the dark hairs he had on his lower stomach? Was he going to collect the precum at the tip and take his time dragging it up and down his shaft?

I instinctively squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to quell the pulsing that had started. Nicks words brought me back to the moment.

“Okay so … I changed out the three strings that needed it, I can’t do anything with these pickups because the owner of the shop said they won’t get the new ones in until tomorrow, and changing this pickguard will take 5 seconds flat. I’m not tuning that bitch because he needs the practice. Bad,” he sighed while he sank onto the couch. He paused for a second before looking up at me and patting the cushion next to him.

I stood up and walked over to him, pulling my legs underneath me as i got comfortable.

“I really like this. My band played with Motionless at a festival like two years ago. Funny dudes,” he said as he played with the hem of my shirt.

“You’re in a band? That’s fuckin’ sick,” I laughed although my eyes never left the hand that was still playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Yeah man. I love it, but it’s … stressful at times,” he whispered as his hand let my shirt go. He let his fingers fall down to my thigh, brushing it as they went back to the couch. “I can kinda tell you know what that feels like,” he said.

“Mhmm,” I nodded. “This degree is whopping my ass and sometimes I think like … is it worth it? I have very little social flings even though I’m away from home. I don’t meet people like people think I do. It’s all very stress inducing and even though you uhm … y-you saw what you saw I uh - … it’s still hard,” I let out in a few exasperated breaths.

I could feel Nick getting closer as he sunk down just a little further.

“Poor thing,” he clicked as his hands went to my hips to pull me onto his lap and straddle him. “I’m technically getting paid to use my skill set and my hands to fix things … but does it really have to stop with guitars,” he questioned as my forehead rested on his. “Like I said. Two adults. Two stressed out adults that need fixing,” his breath panned over my lips as I dove down to meet his.

I let out a small moan as our mouths connected. Who the fuck was he trying to convince? Nick’s hands began to roam away from my hips and travel up my waist as our tongues played. I could feel my folds grow slicker as I tried to grind down into him, but he stopped me.

He reached around and to the side of me with a grunt and threw a pillow and a throw from the back of the couch to the ground. He tapped my thigh to get me up and off of him before he stood up and grabbed my hand to lead me down onto the living room carpet.

Nick took his time stripping all of my clothes off. Years of sports and locker rooms took away any inhibitions I had about my body, but I still felt the weight of his eyes as they bore into me.

“We could … I mean there are beds here,” I pointed at the stairs.

“Lay back,” he told me with a gentle gesturing finger. “Let me do this,” he said as he hovered over me. “Here’s how this is going to go,” he kissed my nose, “I’m going to make myself feel better by making you feel better. I’m a tinkerer. I love figuring out what keeps things together,” he pecked my cheek, “and what takes them apart,” he quickly licked the shell of my ear before he sat up to strip himself of his shirt.

I had no words for him, but my head nodding against the pillow must have been enough. I could feel him suck my bottom lip into a searing kiss before he worked his way down.

“You got messier than I thought,” he laughed against my skin as he licked at the bright red cherry juice that ran a path between my tits.

“Oh,” I let out as I held his head into my chest. Goosebumps rose to the surface as my foot locked over his leg in an effort to pin him to me.

His eyes held moss and stone as his mouth found a nipple and he latched onto it. He brought his hand up to cup my breast as he sucked and lapped at the hardening bud, moaning softly as he felt the skin grow taught on his tongue.

“That’s -,” my back arched and my hips rolled as Nick pulled off of my chest.

He was all blown pupils, bright red juice pricked mouth, and panting breaths. If there was one thing he clearly wanted, it was all of what I had to give. The sight was enough to set fire down my thighs.

“Come here,” I all but growled as I yanked his frame back on top of me in a fierce kiss. This was never a battle for dominance, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t wage war with my lips.

Nick held my face in his hands and ran the tip of his tongue over my parted mouth before he spoke. “Slow it down, cowgirl. We’re taking our time”. He was completely straddling me at this point, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over his body as his fingers left trails of static down my stomach. His heavily tattooed arms flexed as he pushed himself back up and moved lower. Nick’s head came to rest at my side as he bit and kissed at the crease where my thigh met my hip. “You know I can smell you right,” he whispered as he pushed my legs apart. “See, I was scrolling through a website the other day and I read something. Something about how women carry stress in their hips or some shit,” he said.

I could feel his fingers start to massage the muscles there, and a low groan of relief left my chest. “Nick please. I need you to - to touch”. My hips rolled into the carpet slowly as he settled over my core. If there was a god, he wasn’t merciful. There was an air of bittersweet misery surrounding the moment, and I needed him to clear it out.

Without another word Nicholas took his index and middle fingers and spread my folds open. The cool air of the room smacked into my warmth and I couldn’t help but jump.

“She’s sensitive,” he laughed as he puckered his lips and let a string of spit fall down onto my exposed clit. Nick leaned down and pressed a kiss to my folds before licking up the mess he’d made. The speed at which his hands flew up and caught my shaking thighs before they caged his head was unmatched by light and sound. He knew what he’d done. The moan that escaped his throat told me that he was getting lost, and he might not have minded.

I peered down at him over the hills of my breasts and found him down in a valley of soft curls and wet heat. His eyes had begun to roll as he licked into my cunt, and I could see that he was beginning to rut into the floor. Those adept fingers traced gentle patterns and lines on my thigh, and every so often a thumb would circle my clit. “Jesus fuck,” I groaned as I turned my head to the side.

Nick stopped to line his eyes up with mine before popping that same thumb into his mouth and sucking deeply. He caught his breath and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before speaking. “Watching you sit in that chair and act like you didn’t want to rub this pussy made my dick twitch,” he stated as plainly as you would the weather. Like he was talking about the sunshine. Like he hadn’t made me clench around nothing just by nonchalantly speaking.

I stared down at him with a tight jaw and pints of restless need in my blood. The urge to wrench him up and flip us over was overwhelming, but I settled for running my hands through his hair as he sat up.

Nick leaned back and ran his fingers over his torso reveling in the feeling of his own callouses. His hand found his belt and he slowly pulled it off. The promise of taking it slowly filtered through my vision as I watched him reach down and put pressure on the growing bulge in his jeans. “Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath as his hips came up to meet his palms before he pulled the jeans off of his body completely. He crawled back over me and pressed his body into mine.

I held the back of his neck and brought our lips together once more. “I - I really want you,” I murmured against his neck as I kissed the skin there.

“You want … this? Use your words hun,” he grabs his dick by the base and runs it up the length of my dripping pussy before tapping the head against my clit.

“I want you to fuck me Nick,” I whimpered as I let my eyes shut and brought my legs up and around his waist.

He made a noise of approval as he thumbed the tip of his dick inside of me. His breath hitched as he held himself back from giving me everything he had to give. Nick brought a hand up and moved the stray hairs from my forehead. “Look at me,” he said as I opened my eyes, “you feel so good”.

My neck felt warm as Nick's panting mouth found a home there. His fingers moved to interlock with mine as he pinned my hands above my head. His full weight spread over me like a blanket in midwinter, and I could feel his hips start to tick. Nick set a slow and dirty pace as he fucked into me.

“Oh god,” I choked out as he began to grind into my clit. I could feel a swell of warmth begin to form low in my belly as Nick moved.

“Feels nice?” he questioned as he groaned into my collar. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna last Aaliyah,” he warned as his dick kicked within my walls.

I used my heels to press against his lower back, delivering a silent plea for a faster pace.

He gave it to me. Nick fucked up into me harder as his fingers began to flex and squeeze mine.

“Keep going. Oh shit you’re gonna -,” I was cut off as Nick broke his hands free from my grasp and held my hips down.

“Do it. Cum on my cock sweetheart, that’s it,” he encouraged as I pulled my knees up as high as my body could bring them. I came with a wail as his speed never faltered. Nick bit into the air as I clenched down around him.

“Nick,” I gulped as my lungs expanded to take in much needed air, “I want you to fucking cum”.

My words were his downfall. One hand pushed beaten knuckles into soft carpet as the other held on to my hip as if he would fall to pieces if he was not grounded. “Fuck,” he drew out as he pounded his cum deep into my core.

Nick came to a slow grinding halt.

“You’re … you’re pretty good at stress relieving dude,” I smiled as I unwound myself from him.

“Ditto,” he muttered as he held up a thumb at me. Nick pulled out and rolled over before throwing his forearm over his eyes. “Now,” he breathed out, “that stupid fucking pickguard”.

“I would say don’t worry about it and I’ll cover for you … but I almost wish you’d build that stress back up,” I said as I kissed his temple.

He smiled softly and blew me a kiss back before going on to do exactly that.

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #Nick ruffilo fic #auntievwroteit

[yanderecrazysie]

Dang I kinda forgot that you write for Free! as well. But anyway, Makoto Tachibana with a reader who's currently dating a kuudere (not Haru)?

Reader is the typical girl next door, like literally and metaphorically. She's his neighbor and a really nice and dependable one at that, she always happens to make the start of his day off to a good one no matter what kind of stresses are ahead of him that day. Also doesn’t help that she's really cute so naturally he grew to have a crush on her. The only flaw he ever saw in her, is her taste in men. As her boyfriend is always stoic and brutally honest (kinda like Akaashi with Bokuto), it's always frustrating to watch her throw her affections at him, dress cute for him in dates, and see her cling on his arm and he doesn't even try to reciprocate. Menwhile he's in the sidelines thinking to himself and swearing to the heavens that you deserve better. Having question like:

What do you see in him?

Does he even consider you his girlfriend? Does he even love you?

He doesn't even reciprocate your affections and he just insulted you, how could you still want him?

You turned me down...for that?

Ahhh such a great concept! The boyfriend turned more into a jerk than a kuudere, but I tried asdfghjkl.

Title: Treat You Better

Pairings: Tachibana Makoto x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Summary: Makoto’s sick of your jerk of a boyfriend.

“'Cause I know I can treat you better than he can

And any girl like you deserves a gentleman

Tell me, why are we wasting time

On all your wasted crying

When you should be with me instead?”

-From “Treat You Better” by Shawn Mendez

You were dressed up again. Pretty flowing dress, just casual enough to pass off as a day outfit. Your makeup was flawless, as usual, and your hair was pulled back into a bun, two locks of hair tastefully spilling down the sides of your face.

You were beautiful. Makoto always thought that, of course, but when you dressed up for Kaito, you always looked ethereal. 

Too bad your boyfriend never appreciated it.

You could dress up in a pageant dress and wear heavy makeup and all Kaito would say is “that’s not practical” or something cold like that. That, or he’d ignore your getup entirely. That was just the type of person your boyfriend was.

Makoto took the mail out of the mailbox. It was always so coincidental that he got his mail at the same time his angelic neighbor left for her first college class of the day. You never noticed, so he always used that moment to talk to you.

“Hey, (Y/n), how are you today?” Makoto called out.

You looked up with a smile, “I’m doing well, how are you, Makoto?”

“I’m doing great,” Makoto smiled back, albeit much more fondly.

You hovered at the end of the driveway, waiting for your boyfriend to come pick you up, as always. Makoto pretended to sift through his mail so he could stall for time. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

A blue car tears up the road, squealing to a stop in front of your driveway. Your eyes lit up, hopeful. Kaito rolled down his window and, without missing a beat, said, “Your hair is messy.”

Makoto watched as you jerked in disbelief and then deflated, “It’s supposed to look like that… I thought it’d look pretty.”

“It doesn’t,” Kaito said bluntly, “Now get in, we don’t have time to spare.”

Makoto held his breath, silently begging you to stand up for yourself- to tell Kaito you’d drive yourself because of what a jerk he was.

“I love you,” you said, voice wavering. Kaito didn’t respond, merely staring blankly at you for a moment before saying, “We’re going to be late. Get in.”

You obediently opened the passenger side door and climbed in, tears sparkling in your eyes. Makoto bristled in anger, but kept quiet. 

Why didn’t you ever stand up for yourself? Why didn’t you break up with him? Makoto couldn’t understand it.

Why do you say “I love you” to someone who clearly doesn’t love you back?

And yet, when Makoto spied in on you and your boyfriend whenever you were both at your house next door, you clung to him like your life depended on it, kissed him like you desperately needed it, and hugged him tightly as though you might break apart if you didn’t. And how did Kaito respond? He ignored you, didn’t reciprocate, and stood there stiff-armed as you wrapped your arms around him.

What did you see in him?

Hours later, that stupid blue car squealed to a stop outside your house once more. Makoto watched from between the curtains as you got out and waved goodbye to your boyfriend. The minute his car was out of sight, you buried your face in your hands and cried.

Makoto’s heart twisted and he found himself rushing out of his house and over to you. He knew it would look suspicious, but he could explain it away as him noticing you crying when he walked by the window, or something like that.

You wrapped your arms around him and sobbed into his chest, “What am I doing wrong? Why won’t he love me back? He’s my boyfriend but he acts like he can’t stand me!”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Makoto soothed you, running a hand through your hair (you had taken down your bun, probably self-conscious about the remark your boyfriend had made), “It’s his fault for acting so cold.”

He pulled back to look at your tear-streaked face and made the suggestion he’d been wanting to make since day one, “You should break up with him. You deserve someone who would treat you better.”

“I can’t!” you protested, “I love him!”

Makoto winced at the words, “It doesn’t seem like a healthy relationship. You’re putting so much more into it than he is.”

You bit your lip, considering his words, “I don’t know. I just… God, I don’t know.”

“I’ll be here for you, no matter what you choose,” Makoto said gently.

The truth was, though, that Makoto couldn’t take much more of this torture.If you chose Kaito, he may just have to kill him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere free! #free iwatobi swim club #yandere makoto #makoto tachibana

[charturnus]

The sweetest submission

Ship: Maria Hill x Female Reader

a/n: I’ve been obsessed with Cobie Smulders and Maria Hill for the whole week, so I couldn’t stop myself. This was supposed to only be 1k lmfao but things got out of hand. If you liked it, let me know! Come talk to me, I don’t bite (mostly). <3

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI; daddy kink; legal age gap; college-aged R & milf Maria; strap-ons (the high-tech kind); deepthroating; blowjobs; vaginal fingering; cum filled strap

Word count: 4k 

Summary: The Avengers are great at many things, following orders isn’t one of those things. Maria is sick and tired of nobody listening to her, luckily, her girl knows exactly how to obey.

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

‘’Next time, you’d do well to remember who’s boss.’’ 

Just as I reach the end of the long hallway where Maria’s office is located, her voice rings out throughout the space and Steve and Tony emerge from the open door with grim expressions. 

‘’What’s wrong with you two?’’ I inquire, taking in Steve’s clear embarrassment and Tony’s annoyance. Steve merely shakes his head, his cheeks slightly red. 

‘’The boys thought it was funny to disobey my orders.’’ Maria  says, her voice trailing out from the open door. I move closer, so that both her and the two men are in my line of sight. ‘’They just needed a little correction to put them back in their place.’’

Tony pulls a sour face, turning to me with exasperation. ‘’You know, I suddenly feel quite sorry for you, kid. I don’t know why you willingly put up with that one.’’ He jerks his thumb behind him, towards the open door. 

‘’She actually obeys me, Stark. And she knows that good girls get rewards.’’ 

Tony gags audibly, and Steve looks absolutely mortified. ‘’That’s it, I’ve heard enough for today.’’ He says, holding his hands up at chest level, as if admitting his defeat. 

Poor Steve has had the hardest time of anyone at the compound to accept Maria’s forwardness in sharing our dynamic with the group. Everybody knows that I’m hers, and they’re all careful to not upset me, lest they face her wrath. Most of them are quite good at it, having the good decency to pretend to not notice that I’m cockwarming Maria when she has me sit on her lap throughout a whole meeting. 

Whilst the likes of Carol, Natasha and even Tony, keep their features composed whenever Maria decides to have a little fun around them. Steve appears prone to dropping whatever he’s holding, and scurrying off like a frightened alley cat. 

This is precisely what he chooses to do now, hurrying around the corner towards the lift. Tony merely rolls his eyes and sets off after him at an easy pace, peering over his shoulder to shout at Maria. ‘’Don’t go too hard on the kid, Hill. She’s not your stress ball.’’

Maria scowls at this, but I can’t help but chuckle softly as I close the office door behind me. ‘’Ignore him.’’ I tell her. ‘’He doesn’t understand.’’ She humms in assent, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘’For someone as clever as him you’d think he’d understand how to follow a simple command.’’

‘’Rough day?’’

‘’To say the least. I have over 7 trillion nerves, and yet somehow those two have managed to get on every single one of them.’’ She kicks her chair away from the desk, spinning to the side, and I move forward to embrace her, standing between her open legs. 

Her hair is loose today, and I lace my fingers through it as I lean down to give her a gentle kiss. She tastes of apple cider and I drink her in, relishing the softness of her lips, the feel of her tongue against mine. When we part, I’m glad to see a slight smile on her lips, though her eyes are still tired. 

‘’Daddy’s had a very hard day, honey.’’ She murmurs against my lips. 

Desire tugs suddenly at my lower stomach, my body already knowing what’s to come. At first, I thought she might have called me to her office, so we could grab a bite to eat together. I was sorely mistaken. This has happened countless times before, how could it not, what with the stress of Maria running the compound. She manages it well most days, but there are times when even she needs to blow off some steam. 

Before she gets a chance to ask, I lower myself carefully down onto my knees, settling in between her spread thighs. She’s wearing her uniform, with her gun strapped to her right thigh, and she’s an absolute sight to behold. I look up at her through my lashes, trying my hardest to give her those pretty ‘’use me’’ eyes that she loves so much. It seems to work because she groans low in her throat and grabs hold of a fistful of my hair. 

‘’God, you know exactly what I need, don’t you, pretty girl? Obeying before I even tell you what to do.’’ Her free hand finds its way to my mouth, and she holds up three fingers for me, which I take into my mouth without preamble.

‘’This is why I love you so much, baby. You always listen to Daddy and you give me exactly what I ask for. Those guys out there might be Avengers and SHIELD agents, but when it comes to knowing who’s boss, you could teach them all a lesson.’’

I glow under her praise, appreciatively suckling on her fingers, staring up at her with big eyes, fluttering my lashes in the way she likes. Truth be told, I do just about everything in my life the way Maria likes it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I spend my days making our meals, packing her lunch with handwritten notes every day, I do our laundry and keep our rooms tidy. Most importantly, I offer her some welcome relief from the stress of her work-life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

In return for it all, I get her all to myself. I am hers, but she is also mine. She loves me deeply and is fiercely protective of me. I get to live at the Avengers compound, despite hardly even knowing how to shoot a gun. She takes me to every fancy dinner and gala she’s invited to, clothing me in stunning dresses that she rips to shreds the second she gets me into bed. 

Most importantly, I get Maria. Not agent Hill, not director Hill, just Maria. I get toothpaste kisses in the early morning, playing video games in bed, oversized shirts with no pants and gentle murmurs of I love you, every day of my life. 

Maria pulls her fingers out of my mouth, and I have to bite back a whine of disappointment. The feeling quickly fades however, when she tips my chin up to look at her, her fingers wet with my saliva. ‘’Are you going to be a good girl and let daddy have her way with you?’’

I nod excitedly, my overeager hands scrabbling at her belt buckle, eager to get her out of her trousers. My mouth waters at the thought of her thighs framing my face as I suckle obediently on her clit. 

‘’Ah, ah, ah.’’ Maria chides. ‘’That will come later, I have something special for you today.’’ 

Her fingers deftly undo her zip, reaching in to pull out a surprisingly short but girthy strap. I don’t recall ever having seen this one before, and I’m confused as to why Maria hasn’t consulted me on buying it. Usually she always allows me to help her pick, reasoning that since I’ll be the one taking it, I should have some say in what it looks like. 

‘’Do you like my new cock, honey?’’ She asks, her voice sweet as honey. ‘’I had Stark make this especially for us. Turns out he can be useful when he wants to.’’ My ears perk up at this. If Tony had a hand in developing this, it won’t be just an ordinary toy. 

‘’What can it do?’’

Maria grins. ‘’Clever girl. This one is very special.’’ She takes my hand in her own and places it over the silicone. ‘’It’s attached to me, one piece inside, the other suctioned over my clit. I won’t claim to know exactly how it works, but there are sensors in every inch of this thing. When it’s touched, the bits connected to me will active.’’

My mouth has fallen open slightly as I take this in. I consider the unassuming strap, taking in the feel of the silicone against my hand. ‘’Have you tested it yet?’’

‘’Just enough to know that it works.’’ 

That’s more than enough for me. I shift, propping up one foot, so I can stand. I mean to take a seat in Maria’s lap, assuming she wants to fuck me with it, but she places a firm hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down to my knees. 

‘’Nuh-uh, honey. I want you on your knees for this.’’ I allow myself to be guided back to my knees and watch as Maria shifts closer to me, one hand on her cock, the other holding back my hair. Given the choice, I would much rather eat her out. There’s just something about her taste in my mouth and the unabashedly loud moans she lets out when I suck her clit, that drives me absolutely mad for her. 

She only ever makes me suck her off when she’s had a particularly trying day, when she needs to feel in control. It’s not so bad though, she’s gentle with me, and I’d do anything to make her happy, so I don’t complain. 

So, when she implores me to ‘’open wide.’’ I do so without hesitation. I expect her to slide the strap into my mouth, but instead she maintains a hard grip on my jaw as I open my mouth for her. Maria leans forward, almost as though she's going to kiss me, and spits in my mouth. Before I have time to swallow it, she pushes my head down to her cock, and I know what she wants from me. 

"Be careful." She murmurs, carefully gathering up my hair to keep it away from my face. "Keep your teeth out the way, baby." 

With my mouth full of cock, I can't reply, but her statement does worry me somewhat. I wouldn't say I'm particularly good at this. Usually I make an effort to look as pretty as possible and to put on a show, I'm less concerned with it feeling good. 

I make good use of the extra saliva in my mouth, making sure to get it as wet as possible. Above me, Maria leans back, spreading her legs a little further.��

Carefully I take it a little deeper into my mouth, opening wide, keeping my teeth well out of the way. This proves a little difficult, so I decide to change tactics. I take her cock out of my mouth, instead placing open-mouthed kisses along the length of it. Using my hand, aided by the slickness of my saliva, to stroke her wherever my mouth is not. 

I am rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as Maria lifts her hips up. I raise my eyes and try to suppress a smile as I continue to work on her. She's so gorgeous when she's like this, with her hair loose, a flush evident on her high cheekbones and her eyes shut tight.  

Once I've worked her up for a while, I attempt to take her into my mouth once more, this time with more success. I keep a fist at the base of her cock and take the rest of the length into my mouth. Maria groans loudly as I bob my head up and down, applying my tongue as I would if it were her clit in my mouth. 

"God. Fuck." She manages to stutter out, her breath quivering when she inhales. Her hands are tight in my hair, gripping hard and pushing down with remarkable strength. I know she's not one to force me to do anything I don't want, and I can't claim to be a fan of this kind of act. But I know this is a subconscious reaction of her body trying to chase the pleasure, and who am I to deny her? 

I remove my fist from the base of her cock, and when I raise my head, the toy almost slips out of my mouth entirely, I make sure to take a deep breath. When I let the cock back into my mouth, I don't stop Maria as she pushes me down, her hips snapping up sharply. The sound of me gagging takes her by surprise, alarmed, she tries to pull out, concerned that she might have hurt me. 

I search for her eyes, trying to look as reassuring as one can with tears in their eyes. As she pulls back, I dip my head, taking more of the length, trying to show her I'm alright. Really, I'm just thankful for the limited size of this toy. Any longer and I truly wouldn't have been able to take it at all. When Maria realizes that I'm not in pain, she moans low and deep in her throat. "You're such a good fucking girl, aren't you? You were made to take my cock, baby."

She shifts to the edge of the chair, to give herself more leverage, and begins to thrust shallowly into my throat. It burns slightly, and I gag a few times every minute. Saliva drips down my chin and onto my chest, tears trickling down my cheeks, the sounds coming from me are obscene, but I do not care in the slightest. Not when Maria is above me, moaning desperately, her fingers clawing at my hair, groaning out praise, telling me how good my throat feels, how she's going to fill me up with her cum. 

Maria appears on the verge of falling apart, gasping loudly, her thrusts getting sloppier by the second, when all three of her computer screens light up, a harsh calling sound echoing through the room. 

‘’Damnit.’’ Maria says through gritted teeth, as she gingerly pulls the cock from my mouth. Looking over at the screens, she reads the name of the caller and curses again. Leaning down, she takes my face in both of her hands, her thumbs swiping at the tears on my cheeks. ‘’Are you okay honey?’’ I nod my head, gratefully taking in several lungfuls of air and wiping my chin with the back of my hand. 

‘’Get up on my lap, baby. You did so good, I promise this won’t take long.’’ 

When I’m secure in Maria’s lap, straddling her thighs, my head resting in the crook of her neck, she answers the call. 

‘’Goddamnit, Danvers.’’

‘’Let’s keep it professional now, Agent Hill.’’ I can hear the amusement in her voice, and usually I enjoy the easy way Carol handles our relationship. But right now I want her to vanish from the planet for a few hours, at least until Maria is done fucking me stupid. 

I tune out their conversation and focus myself firmly in the present. I nuzzle my nose into Maria’s neck, inhaling her scent, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against mine. Her hands rest on my thighs, hidden underneath my dress, stroking me gently. For the first time, I become aware of the pressing wetness between my thighs. With my legs spread like this, and in the absence of any underwear, the ache is all too present. 

When Maria settles her hands on the supple flesh of my ass and squeezes hard, I can’t help myself, and I whine softly, my hips rutting against the open air between us. She shushes me gently, pressing a kiss to the side of my cheek, and settles the palm of her hand against my aching clit. She’s busy talking to Carol, but I don’t need her to tell me what this means. She’s saying go ahead, entertain yourself.

Gratefully, eagerly, I grind my wet cunt against the fleshy part of Maria’s palm. I am almost light-headed with relief, and Maria’s sharp intake of breath when she feels my copious wetness covering her hand, almost goes unnoticed. I hold on to her tightly, moaning under my breath, loudly enough for her to hear, but not loud enough for Carol to notice. 

I glide my tongue over the exposed part of Maria’s neck, suckling lightly. I want to lean back fully, take in her face, stare at her like the piece of art she is. I want to watch her as I ride her cock, and bask in the joy of being all hers. I know not to be too greedy though, and I attempt to pace myself, rocking backwards and forwards at a steady pace. It’s just enough to take the edge off, but not quite enough to send me into an orgasm that I don’t have permission for. 

As I rut against Maria’s hand, her cock brushes against my thigh and I wonder if she can feel that too, but if she can, her face doesn’t betray anything. I don’t falter in my rhythm as I cup my hand under my mouth to spit in it, and quickly reach down to take hold of the cock. That gets her attention. She stiffens, and she stumbles over her words, but manages to recover quickly. I stroke her lazily, keeping the rhythm steady with the one my own hips have taken up. After a few minutes of this treatment, Maria is trembling, her cheeks considerably redder than before. 

When the time comes for Carol to call out a smug goodbye, to Maria, and to me, she looks as though she’s about to combust. She hammers the fingers of her free hand on the touchpad, shutting off the video call, and all the screens in their entirety. 

Her hand flies up to my face, cupping my cheek and pulling me into a desperate, heated kiss. She presses hard against my core with the palm of her hand, and slips two fingers inside me. She crooks her fingers on every thrust, making me whimper into her sweet smelling hair. I don’t let up on my grip on her cock, trying to sync my movements with hers, and soon the both of us are breathing hard. 

Maria is gasping harshly, her hips raising up, trying to thrust harder into my hand. I lean back to look at her. She’s flushed all over, her eyes glittering with desire. Her lips are red from our rough kisses and wet with my saliva. She looks like a painting. I want to capture this moment and hide it away, remember it for the rest of my days. 

She is breathtaking, the curve of her neck, her firm muscles underneath the soft fabric of her uniform. She smells like her flowery perfume, but her hair smells of her shampoo. Her hand is slick where it meets my core, and her skin pressed against mine feels like a little slice of Elysium. 

I claw at the front of her uniform, tugging at her zip, to expose the tops of her breasts, spilling over the top of her bra. She laughs when I lurch forward to attach my mouth to soft skin there. 

‘’You have a busy mouth today.’’ Her voice sounds raspy, thick with need. Her fingers pull out of me and I whine through a mouthful of breast. ‘’Don’t worry, baby. Daddy will fill you up soon.’’ She pulls my head up sharply, threading her fingers through my hair and holding me tight. ‘’Open up.’’ Maria holds up her fingers, covered in my wetness, and I take them into my mouth without question. I moan, not at my own taste, but rather the feel of her fingers against my tongue. 

As I dutifully suckle on her fingers, Maria manoeuvres her cock between my thighs, sliding it through my copious wetness. She pulls open a desk drawer, the one where she keeps toys ready to go, and fishes out a small bottle of water-based lube. She squeezes a generous amount into her open palm and fists her cock, covering every inch of it in the slick substance. Once she’s done, she wipes the excess on my swollen cunt and rubs her cock over my engorged clit. 

I raise myself on my knees as Maria lines her cock up with my entrance. When I sink down onto it, there is hardly any resistance. We let out a synchronized moan and rest our foreheads together as we take in this new sensation. Soon, however, I have become impatient and begin to rock my hips. I grind myself against her for a while, before remembering the function of this new toy. 

So, I push myself up and let myself sink down again, the ridges of the cock rub deliciously against me as I push myself up and down, up and down. I raise myself high enough to barely keep the head inside, before dropping down all the way, the cock bottoming out deep inside me. Maria is breathing hard against my overheated skin, her hips trying to meet mine the best she can in this position. She’s swearing under her breath and gripping my hips so tightly that I’m sure there will be bruises there come morning. I try to keep a decent pace, but my knees are aching from straddling her for so long. I can tell from the pained expression on her face that she’s close, but that this is not quite enough to push her over the edge. 

‘’Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’’ She leans back in her chair, running her hands through her hair as I try my hardest to move as quickly as I can, up and down over her cock. It’s getting harder for me now, and after several minutes of this I have to take a break. 

Maria however, is near delirious with need at this point and groans in frustration when I have to stop. ‘’I’m sorry, baby.’’ She grunts, as she quite suddenly leans forward, lifting me up by my thighs and laying me down her desk, her cock still buried inside me. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ She says again, thrusting into me harshly. ‘’Ah- fuck. I just- I gotta-’’ She doesn’t finish whatever it was she was going to say. Focussing fully on our connected bodies. 

Her first thrusts are slow and experimental, but once she gets the hang of what feels good, she sets a punishing pace. She looks almost feral, her zip pulled down to expose the tops of her breasts and her necklace bouncing wildly against her chest. She’s moaning unabashedly, her full weight resting on top of me.

I know it won’t be long when her thrusts get harder by the second, I secure my legs tightly over her hips, holding her close against me. She feels so good inside me, the smooth head of the cock pressing firmly against my G-spot, making me writhe underneath her. I don’t try to stop the stream of high pitched moans leaving my mouth.

‘’God. Fuck.’’ She stutters out, her hips pounding into me. ‘’I’m going to fuck my cum into you, baby.’’ She growls into my ear. I can’t help myself, whining desperately in response, half delirious with pleasure. ‘’Fill me up, daddy. Pl- ease.’’

When she comes, her moans are louder than I’ve ever heard them. Her hips never cease their punishing pace, pushing into me so deeply that the hard metal of her zip presses painfully into my pubic bone. None of that matters though, not when her warm cum is spilling copiously inside me. I hold her tightly, one hand on her back, the other in her hair as she ruts against me, riding out her high. 

It takes several minutes for her to come back to herself and when she does, she gives me a sheepish, apologetic look. ‘’Are you okay, honey? I think I lost it there for a second.’’ 

I chuckle wearily, propping myself up with one elbow to look down as she pulls her cock out of me. Some of the cum leaks out, and the sight of this sends a shiver of desire through me, a harsh reminder of my lack of release. 

‘’I loved it.’’ I say truthfully. ‘’The feeling of you coming inside me-’’ I trail off, exhaling shakily. ‘’You did beautifully.’’ Maria assures me, leaning down to give me a long, languid kiss. I yelp when her hands snake around my thighs once more to lift me up, instinctively I wrap my thighs around her waist. 

‘’Let’s get to bed baby, you deserve a proper reward.’’

#char writes #c: maria hill #maria hill x reader

[evita-shelby]

For the Eva event. Prompt: “You’re worthy of my love.” + “You’re so damn attractive, you know that?”

With Heaven x Eva, following my headcanons? 🥺🤍🖤

Garden of Eden

Heaven Lavey/Shelby x Eva Shelby

(Polyam, bisexual wlw, infidelity)

Gif by @jcmieschung-blog

Part ii

“You’re so damn attractive, you know that?” Eva said with approval as she saw Heaven dressed in her colors.

So fair and pale and dressed in black and red and gold.

A good and haunting contrast.

For a moment the angel looks like a demon straight from hell.

“You wear white so well, you look like an angel.” The French witch said in that soft and sweet tone of hers.

Bewitched you just as much as her appearance and aura did.

No wonder Arthur was besotted with her.

Not that he stood a chance, Arthur was too easily swept away by angelic fair-haired ladies with a saint-like appearance.

First Linda and now Heaven.

Linda had been fine the first few months before the golden haired woman showed her claws.

Eva didn’t mind claws; she had her own. Ten blood red and dangerously sharp claws.

Both were unsuited for each other, Arthur wanting salvation but doing nothing to obtain it and Linda finding herself sinking down with him.

In the end she broke it up calling him and all the family cursed, he took it badly ---he’d hit rock bottom by then --- and before they knew it, Arthur had been seen wandering drunk searching her.

For her safety and as a final courtesy after the shit hit the fan, Eva had gotten Linda in some school in a rural community in California.

A shame it came down to that.

And then, Heaven burst into their lives with Arthur, Arthur who finally got his shit together and decided he had to put the fucking effort to fix himself instead of leaving it to his brother, Polly or any poor woman that came his way.

Tommy was wary of Heaven, Polly and most of the family as well, fearing another Linda or something worse.

Arthur had never been strong on the inside; a few smiles and a fitted skirt were all that took Grace Burgess to get every drop out of him in 1919.

A witch as strong as Heaven Lavey could bewitch a weak man with ease and break him beyond repair once it burst like a soap bubble.

Eva had been taught how to control it, to use it as a weapon and put it away to avoid chaos.

It still had its issues, men and women still found her a real head-turner and could not help but want to know her.

Tommy had believed himself the exception and now they were married with two children.

Her magic had been strong enough to make him forget Grace even when he was in her bed most nights.

But they had developed enough love and friendship with each other to know what they have is true.

Until time proved them wrong, they were wary of the French Witch as pale as fresh snow.

Now Eva had found a friend in her, one she was as close to as one would say of a sister.

Except what she pretends is just platonic, has turned to attraction and even worse, the feeling is mutual.

A drunk kiss had turned into a confession and yet their love for their husbands does not change one bit.

They would not understand, both men loathe the idea of a sharing their witches and even less so if they knew who the other person was.

Tonight, they were to pretend nothing is going on.

That they are merely very good friends.

Good friends who kissed, fondled and fucked in the same beds they fucked their husbands in.

A love built on stolen moments.

A love that could get them killed and yet they cannot stop it no matter how much they try.

And yet when they find the ladies’ powder room empty and locked, they take their chance to show each other how much they love each other.

 “I love you.” The Mexican witch says as she wastes no time kissing her pretty witch, red ruby lips that fit so perfectly and taste so sweet even if she can taste Arthur in her mouth just as she knows Heaven can taste Tommy in hers.

“I’m not worthy of your love.” Heaven whispered back as if she wasn’t just as bad or worse than her.

“You’re worthy of my love, sweet angel. Of my love and his.”

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #arthur shelby x heaven lavey #heaven shelby #eva x heaven #eva 1000

[greypetrel]

30. "I don't know where to put my love" for Raina c:

Oooooh, this was perfect for her, thank you!! (in this I discovered that a baby raccoon is called a kit)

Tis the prompt list

A good punch.

( 4.049 words | CW: blood - mentions of split lips and broken teeth )

So tell me where to put my love Do I wait for time to do what it does? I don't know where to put my love - Florence + the Machine, "My Love"

“I did want to punch him, dad.”

She uttered between her teeth, mumbling on the words because her lips hurt like hell right now. She glared stubbornly at her feet, hand clasped in her father’s and hating every step and how the skirt of her dress kept sticking to her bloody knees. She hated skirts, and she hated the feeling of her hair, long and tangled and dirty, sticking to her cheek. But her mother won’t let her wear breeches for the festival, and won’t let her cut her hair short as she did with Garrett, and she didn’t really understand why.

But, as much as her mother had been the first to find her and drag her away from Bobby Oswald who laid under her and had a black eye and lost his front tooth, and she sharply refused to say a word to explain herself… She couldn’t lie to her father. She didn’t want to lie to him. So, when he barged in, placated the Oswalds and Leandra alike and grabbed her hand to take her away and “Have a good talk, I’m sure she didn’t mean to punch Bobby”… she waited just until they were far from the crowd and told him.

Malcolm looked down at her, raising one eyebrow.

“You want to get me angry as well, young lady?” He asked her, but there was amusement in his voice. That note of amusement that was always there and she craved, right now.

“He called Garrett a freak, and you a failure.”

She confessed, anger still burning hot in her chest and raising tears to her eyes. Malcolm didn’t say anything, but answered in tow as her hand clutched tight on his, in a silent comfort. He didn’t say anything, and just lead her around the corner and deep between the stalls that were installed in the small square in front of the Chantry. People selling food, mainly, trying to earn some extra money during the fair even if they had no cattle to sell and show, no crops to offer. They already visited the stalls, and begged Leandra far and wide for a treat. Their mother had bought her and Garrett a full slice of pumpkin pie each, and the twins a big cookie with nuts and raisins she split in two for the three years olds. And that was it. The rest of the stalls kept being a dream, even if Raina asked and pleaded for some candy floss. It was coloured and it was sweet and it looked fluffy: surely it was good, even if she never tasted it. It was also pricey, and something only the more well to do could afford. Not them. The year hadn’t gone well, and she already had her more healthy treat.

So, she didn’t raise her eyes, pretending not to be interested in the food. Pretending that all those perfumes didn’t make her mouth water and terribly curious to taste everything. She hadn’t been good, her mother made it plenty clear as she yelled at her for starting a brawl and breaking Bobby’s tooth. She didn’t listen when her father stopped and started to chat with someone. She convinced herself she wasn’t interested, and her mind went flying and concentrating on other thoughts, fingers playing nervously with the cloth of her skirt. That was it: she decided to think of all the things she could do with her skirt instead of wearing it.

And yet, when Malcolm pulled gently at her hand to catch her attention, Raina could only gasp, mouth falling open.

He stopped right in front of the candy floss stand, and both him and the vendor were looking at her, expectantly.

“So? Red, purple or yellow?” Malcolm prodded, with a smile.

“But-” She objected, looking between the two men with suspicion. “But mother said-”

“Your mother isn’t here. Or do you wish me to go and call her?” Malcolm winked. “But if you don’t want it…”

“No!” She gasped aloud, and both men chuckled at her. “Red!” She declared, and stopped a while, adding a last, less concitated “Please.”

“Ah, I knew it!” Malcolm exclaimed with a big smile, and turned to the vendor again. “What did I tell you? Did I win a free stick for being such a good father to remember my daughter’s favourite colour?”

In spite of everything, Raina giggled, ignoring how the movement sent a jolt of pain on her split lip, and how she felt wet trailing down her chin from it. As her father winked and insisted a little with a vendor that wasn’t fooled by her father’s wit, she licked the blood away, quickly. It only made the wound bleed more, and she grew irritated by it.

She didn’t mind her father slipping some coins out of his pocket, absent-mindedly greeted the vendor goodbye, and trodded along her father. The more she licked, the more blood it seeped out, and the more she scowled at it. It just wouldn’t stop.

She paid little attention, too focused on stopping the annoying trickle of blood even if it started to hurt, to mind her father quickening his step all so minutely as they passed the Chantry. “Least those nasty Mothers see our treat and come to steal it!” He told her, whispering conspiratively. She nodded along and quickened her steps as much as the legs of a girl of 8 could go, following her father without looking where he was headed.

So focused she was, that when he stopped she bumped right into his leg, so hard it hurt her lip and bruised cheek.

“Ouch!” She yelped, stepping back and pressing a hand on her cheek.

“Shit-” He grumbled, stopping abruptly as he noticed the swear. “Fuck-” He grumbled. “For Andraste’s- Don’t tell your mother. I’m sorry, kit.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Mh.”

He hummed, and left her hand, nodding towards the low stone wall that sided the river. He offered to help her up to sit there, but Raina scoffed, puffing her chest up with pride. Chanting that she was not a kit, she climbed up on her merry self. Bobby’s tooth cut her knuckles something nasty, and even if the bleeding stopped, it hurt when she scraped it against the stone. She bit it down bravely, grunting for that and how sore she was, and complaining because the nasty skirt made climbing unnecessarily difficult. But she managed, rolling on her belly on top of the wall and collecting her limbs on top, so she could kneel and go sit with her legs dwindling on the other side, up the water. Malcolm was much more graceful, and as soon as he was sitting too, she scuttled closer

“Do you want to talk about it?” Malcolm asked, caressing her head.

“No.”

“Raina.”

“He was mean, dad!” She grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest and looking down at the water, legs moving quicker. “He picked on Garrett, he called him a freak and pushed him, and said you are a failure that can’t… I don’t know, he used a weird word. You can’t do something for us, and it’s not true, and so I told him you’re the best dad in the world and to leave my brother alone, and he called me a Bug-eyes and he just didn’t stop.”

A hand came around her back and closed on the opposite shoulder, keeping her still as she thrashed around on the ledge. She shoved him off: she wasn’t a baby, and she wouldn’t fall. She never fell when she climbed, not anymore. Understanding she didn’t want to be touched, now, Malcolm let her speak, listened to her as she kept on with her tale.

“He shouldn’t have said those things, you’re right.” He convened, in the end. “It still doesn’t make it right to punch him, kit. You hurt him pretty badly.”

Raina turned towards him, a deep scowl on her face, and looked in his eyes -the same blue as hers- as she told him, this time lowering her voice.

“He told he was going to call the Templars, dad. That’s when I punched him. And why I’m not sorry.”

She watched as his father’s face darkened, something harsh making his way in his expression. It was his serious face, and Raina knew he understood. He always understood, when her mother never did and only scolded her.

“Maybe he was joking.” He proposed.

“I am still not sorry.” She proudly declared, turning towards the river again. “I don’t want that you and Garrett will be brought away because Bobby is mean and stupid.”

“Punching him isn’t a solution.”

“I bit him, too.”

Malcolm stilled at the news, and as Raina side-glanced at him, she saw him with his free hand on his mouth, covering it as he tried not to laugh. She knew he was scolding her for what she did and he that he was serious, but she snorted too, covering her mouth with both hands.

“Raina, I’m serious.” He scowled at her, but his eyes kept an amused glint.

“But you told me I need to defend my little siblings!”

“I know, kit. But you’re not a raccoon. You’re a person, and people talk.”

“But I tried, dad. I tried to tell him he was mean, but he just didn’t listen. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Come here.”

He sighed, and pulled her closer to his side. More prone to be touched, right now, she let him, and turned to hug his bust, pressing her face in his side. He put the fancy waistcoat, the one he only wore for special occasions, and it was rough against her sensible skin. But it was warm and comforting enough, it smelled like the lavender pouches her mother kept in the wardrobes, and she didn’t mind that she was probably staining it. The comfort provided was more important, and the way he kept her close by her shoulder, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“Do you still love me?”

“Of course, kit, what makes you think I don’t?”

“Mom was very angry. Mom loves Garrett best.”

He sighed, heavily. It wasn’t the first time the topic came up, and it always made Raina cry. This time was no different, and she clutched on her father tighter.

“I do love you, kit. Very much. Your mother does too, I swear. Quite a lot. She gets angry because you’re always getting into trouble and she worries.”

“But she told me I had to be a good sister and protect my siblings!”

“I don’t think she meant getting into a brawl and splitting your lip open. That’s what she worries about.” Malcolm explained, gently pushing the child away from him enough so he could see her face. “Let me see.”

Her lip indeed left a stain on his waistcoat, darker than the grey wool it was made of. He paid it no mind, and didn’t let Raina either, gently pushing her face up towards his. She sniffed and blinked tears away from her eyes, putting up a brave face. She was 8, she was too old for crying, and she stood straight, offering herself for the careful examination like a big, brave girl. Stupid tears couldn’t really stop, but she did her very best. He gently pushed on her cheekbone with his thumb, and apologized when the pressure made her flinch. And rubbed her lower lip, without using any magic. Even with some pressure -and she was ready this time, she just scrunched her nose and eyes- the bleeding didn’t stop, and Malcolm huffed at it.

“We should really think of something better than punching, for you.” He grumbled, fishing his handkerchief from a pocket and dabbing her lip with it. “Defending the people you love is great and commendable kit, and I’m so proud that you jumped to it and that you stood up to your choices.”

A pause.

“Don’t tell your mother I told you so.” He casted her a look, but his eyes were still amused. “I am very, very disappointed you shut up the most annoying kid in the village, I’m absolutely appalled that you punched and bit him and kicked him, and I expect you to be very contrite and remorseful when we get back, ok?”

He winked at her, and she giggled, nodding enthusiastically. She took the handkerchief and kept on dabbing her mouth herself, heart lighter as her father huffed in satisfaction. As she did, with her feet kicking the air before her, alternatively pushing on the stone and skipping forward, she saw Malcolm ripping a piece of cotton candy, finally, and look at it, considering.

“My point is, you have all this love… We need to find a way to use it better than punching people that offend it, tho. Somewhere to put it.”

“Like a closet?”

He chuckled, and offered her the sugar. Raina looked at it, unsure, and at her father. When he nodded in encouragement, she was quick in picking the piece up and bring it to her mouth. It was sweet and crinkled under her teeth before quickly melting in the most thrilling way, and it was the most delicious thing she ever ate. Of course, it was red. Red things were the best. It made Malcolm chuckle more, as he too took a bite.

“We can try and put it in a closet, but closets get full so easily. We need to try something else.”

“Like what?”

She asked, not fully understanding his words, and how love could be stored or put somewhere rather than somewhere else. She shrugged it off, tho, not wanting him to think she was too little and didn’t understand a grown-up concept. She was the eldest and she was big, after all, even if Garrett had magic and that could maybe made up for a year less. She just stretched her arm, fingers sticky with sugar, to take another piece of the candy.

“I don’t know. Hug puppies. Take care of animals. Knit. Count to a hundred before you act. Run in the morning so you’re tired during the day and your love doesn’t burst. Let the bullies run after you until they trip and fall by themselves and you can keep clean. Insult them without them knowing.”

Raina considered, with her mouth full of sugar.

“So mom won’t get worried?”

Malcolm turned and poked her ribcage, annoyingly enough, and again until she turned to bat his hand away, laughing because it tickled. He laughed with her, and waited enough for her to stop thrashing -she did so much that he had to catch her by the shoulder lest she fell into the river. When it was done, he was there, a smile on his face and a look that was really serious in his eyes.

“So we all won’t get worried.” He told her, in his serious voice that meant what he told was important and she should listen.

She nodded and jumped forward, hugging him tight.

“I am sorry I got you worried, dad.” She told him, drowned as she was in his chest.

He caressed her hair, and right then, the world was good and she didn’t feel the urge to move somehow, to bounce her leg or play with her hands.

“It’s fine, kit.” He sighed, relaxing minutely. “Just keep in mind that if you put your love into punches, people you love won’t be happy, they will be worried. Ok?”

Raina considered. It made sense, even if the concept of love was still a little weird and abstract.

“… But what if I don’t let them punch me back?”

“Raina-”

---

Something less than twenty years later, a lifetime distant from that afternoon in Greenfell, Raina kept considering that day on the stream, eating red candy they couldn’t afford with her father.

She stepped forward, turning her daggers in her hands, bending her neck left and right quickly to warm up and get ready. Her heart beat hard and fast in her ears, in anticipation and, partly, fear. On the other hand, only an idiot wouldn’t have been afraid, in her place, to be doing what she was about to do. Maybe she was not as scared as she should have been.

It wasn’t the time to reason, tho, or to consider any better. She took her father’s words to heart, and had been mindful to put her love to good use. Ironically enough, she learnt to talk and outwit people, and she took up knitting and adopted a dog. And she stopped throwing punches so often, because she learnt to wield daggers.

She stepped forward in the throne room, bouncing from one foot to the other, turning fear into adrenaline and not thinking that she most likely chose the stupidest place to put her love. And yet, she kept her chin up, back straight, and looked the Arishok right in his eyes with a challenge.

Her love went into a city that didn’t love her, into a mother and Carver who both lied six feet under, Bethany in the Circle and Garrett that was about to be brought there too, since the Knight-Commander saw him. Her love went into a mismatched rag-tag groups of misfits, just like her. Her love went into them and into fucking things up for them and with them.

She put her love into turning her back to Merrill, screaming for her and beating her hands against the bars that closed the Alienage for the invasion. She put her love into keeping her safe, because after what she did, after taking advantage of her in such a way and leaving her as she did, that was all she could do to her. Perhaps it would have mildened her memory for the elf. Not that she would have been there to see.

She put her love, lastly and firstly and more stupidly, into a woman that didn’t want it, that told her from the start that she didn’t, but that had it anyway.

She put her love in Isabela and into a duel she couldn’t win, and she cared not for anything else. Kirkwall could go fuck itself: if it weren’t for Bela, she would have left it to the Qun and see if the Arishok could have found her a spot she could finally fit in.

She clutched her hands tighter on the hilts of the daggers, feeling the supple leather of her father’s gloves pressing on her skin. She wondered what he would have thought, and if he would still be proud of her. She guessed she was about to find out.

“Raina, please-”

She heard Garrett from behind. He was the only one, now, to call her by her name, and it was too little. She wasn’t a Hawke: Hawke had been her father, and she made a treasure of his words, she missed him like air, and she stubbornly decided that he was right, but not always.

Some people really needed a good punch.

#dragon age #dragon age II #da2 #female hawke x isabela #malcolm hawke #raina hawke #writing petrel #da fic #dragon age fanfiction #ficlet

[thesmokingguns]

Winner, Winner Hot Dog dinner

Nikki did not get why Peach liked sports so much. He didn’t understand why she always begged to go to basketball, hockey, baseball games depending on the sport. Even football games with the guys she would tag along cheering on whoever was on that year's fantasy lineup.

The one year Nikki had joined a fantasy league she had taken over as general manager and taken them to the championship game. He didn’t get the whole rah-rah sports thing but having peach this excited about something was worth sitting through anything.

That’s why in a Wednesday night they were at a basketball game, courtside as Peach wore the opposing teams jersey and kept Nikki on his toes thinking she was going to fist fight one of the men jeering at her.

There had been several moments in their relationship that Nikki had really thought she was going to give him a heart attack but tonight might just be ten nights she succeeded in offing him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?” She was standing up on the high heels Nikki had just bought her as a gift. Her jeans so tights he wondered if they had scissors in the LA condo they owned because he surely would need to cut them off her body. The green jersey was tucked in and Peach was looking at a red ready to go to jail to defend her team.

Nikki ordered another hot dog and pretended the lunatic wasn’t his.

He had just flown back from doing press in New York when Peach had surprised him at the airport. Nikki had been looking forward to a romantic night soaking in the bath and being lavished with her love. Instead she was boarding the jet and telling him about their plans for LA for a few days.

Nikki wanted to complain but it was so rare that Peach asked to go somewhere he had to just pull her on his lap and kiss her in the small space.

The basketball game that they had to drive to in rush hour traffic to make it on time had Nikki so frustrated that he had to close his eyes and take what peach called a grandpa nap on the way.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.” Peach pressed a red kipper kiss to his cheek before walking towards the bathroom before he could even think.

It was halftime and the mascot was doing some trick as Nikki thought about how good a hot dog tasted. He didn’t realize that Peach was up to something until ten minutes went by and the girl hadn’t come back yet.

Shit.

Nikki looked around to see if she had stopped to talk to someone but all he saw was the mascot bumbling around the court and headed straight for him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Nikki was mid last bite when he appeared on the Jumbotron with the song Girls, Girls, Girls playing. Sure enough the cheerleaders came over and Nikki thought about how he was going to kill peach. She was well aware that he hated all the attention.

It got worse when he saw that peach was walking back towards him and seemed to not know what was going on. Nikki realized this was not her doing and felt bad for the thoughts of ringing her neck he had.

But as she sat beside him the mascot came over, dripping to his knee as a heart with Peach and Nikki appeared on the Jumbotron and the mascot opened a ring that Nikki had definitely not given him.

Before he could explain to Peach that this wasn’t him he saw her looking at the man who was sitting to her left and point at him.

The audience was laughing now, thinking this was all a big joke or that she was teasing Nikki about marriage but there was a gasp when the man stood up, picking the ring up and dropping to his knee in front of his girlfriend.

The mascot shrugged, sliding over and the heart kiss cam was off Nikki and peach for the time being.

Nikki’s heart was beating so loudly he thought he would need to be wheeled out of the staples center in the back of an ambulance. He didn’t want to even look at Peach and see her disappointment of not getting a ring.

They had spoken About marriage before and he thought they were on the same page but now he was worried that she was hurt seeing the proposal.

But Peach was still holding his hand.

“Well, you’re going to be a meme.” He blinked at her words, turning to see her smile and knowing she was teasing him.

Nikki had to smile with her because he had no idea that she wasn’t wrong,

#nikki sixx #motley crue #nikki six fanfic #Nikki and peach #peach and Nikki #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx smut imagine

[malevolent-muse]

Unconventional - Chicago PD Fan Fiction

Nichole is a high-end prostitute who enjoys her job. Hank Voight is a tough old-school police sergeant who typically is very restrained... but not this time. {Based off of 5x11 "Confidential" where Voight meets with a madame and she asks him how he is liking Nichole.}

“May I have the definition?” the small figure on the stage asked.

To which the judge replied, “The fear or superstition of the number 666.”

Taking a deep breath, the little girl lackadaisically stated, “Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia, H-E-X-A-K-O—“

Looking away from the television behind the bar, Nichole stirred the swizzle-stick around in her drink before picking it up and taking a sip. It was surprising how well these kids could spell words she didn’t even understand. She’d heard the word for fear of the number 13, triskaidekaphobia, but never the one the girl was spelling.

Adjusting her position and glancing over at the clock, she sighed. She’d been waiting for over a half an hour now for her date to arrive but she’d yet to see the boat of a vehicle he drove pull up in front of the establishment. 

“Can I get you another drink?” the bartender asked. His nose was so big, that it could only be described as a schnozzle. The black and white tag on his chest read, “Ragnar,” which was clearly an assumed name. Maybe he fancied himself to be some modern-day Viking or was just trying to be funny, either way, Nichole found it to be irksome.

“No,” she replied, as ran her finger along the moist surface of the glass, “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Very well,” the man responded, “let me know if there is anything else I can get for you.” Ragnar then headed to the other end of the counter and began to wipe it down with a rag and a bottle of disinfectant. 

Glancing back up at the television, only to see that the next young contestant spelling the word, “Platyhelminthes,” Nichole shook her head in wonderment, both at the children’s abilities but also the esoteric nature of the competition. ESPN3 was not a channel she would typically choose to watch but it was better than making small talk with the other patrons, many of whom were placing bets on the outcome.

There was a small kerfuffle at the entrance of the bar as a man entered but then stepped back out as to allow two other customers to leave. Of course, he held the door open for them on their way out.

Finally entering the bar, Hank Voight looked over the crowd until he met Nichole’s gazed and made his way over to her.

The sergeant of the Chicago Police Department’s Intelligence Unit was not her usual client. Most of her clients were men with wives or men with more unconventional tastes  (including one that was so entrenched in Tolkien mythology that he would speak to her in Elvish and pretend they were in Lothórien together). 

Voight, however, did not fall into either of these categories. Granted, he’d been married, but he was a widower now. As for his tastes, well, the two of them had never actually made it to the bedroom. Instead, the sergeant just wanted to talk. Their ‘dates’ ended up being like therapy sessions more than anything else. She could tell he was the type of man who craved the comforts of a relationship but had been burned too many times. He preferred to keep a professional distance.

“Nichole,” he greeted her warmly, his voice gravely as ever, “sorry I’m late. I got held up at work.”

“I can imagine,” she replied with a smirk. It felt almost clandestine, having a cop for a client. But it gave her a nervous thrill that she couldn’t explain. There was something different about the sergeant this evening, somehow the look it his eyes was different, almost hungry.

Hank held out his hand to her and said, “Shall we get going?” His timing was serendipitous as it was just before Ragnar was able to come over and ask Voight if he wanted something to drink.

“Oh?” Nichole questioned. “Are we going somewhere?”

“I thought maybe we’d switch it up,” Hank said nonchalantly. “That is if you don’t have any objections?”

“No,” she replied as she took his hand and got up from the stool she’d been sitting on, “I’ve no objections. Though I hope you don’t intend on keeping me out in this weather long.” The tight red dress she was wearing wasn’t much, if any, protection from the cold Chicago winter weather.

“My car is just outside,” Hank replied as helped her on with her coat, careful to not trap her dark tight curls beneath the collar of the garment.

The two of them stepped out into the cold night, the dark cerulean sky clear against the glowing yellow orbs of the street lights. The short stone obelisks divided the sidewalk from the road and she stepped around them to reach Hank as he held open the passenger door of his black Cadillac Escalade. 

“Brrr,” she said once he had joined her in the vehicle, “it’s so cold. What I wouldn’t give to be on a beach in the Caribbean somewhere.”

“You and me both,” the sergeant responded as he pulled out from behind the Toyota parked in front of them.

It wasn’t long until Voight pulled up in front of a very expensive looking hotel, which surprised Nichole. She was accustomed to men flashing their superfluous wealth in front of her, but Hank had never been one of those men. It was unexpected but she saw nothing pernicious in his behavior so she merely smiled agreeably as the bellhop helped her from the car and Voight gave his keys to the rotund valet.

Entering the building quickly to escape the cold, Hank left her side momentary to go and check in at the front desk. Nichole slowly wandered around the lobby admiring the furnishings, glancing at the artwork, listening to the light piano music that was piped through the speakers, and running her fingers along the leaves of the decorative trees. 

Turning her head, she noticed the sergeant seemed to have gotten himself in a bit of a confrontation with the man behind the desk, who was quietly fulminating about something or another, his face as red as a terracotta flowerpot. It was disconcerting that within minutes of walking into the building, that it looked like they were already being asked to leave. But luckily Hank handled the situation before returning to her having obtained the key card from the supercilious and constipated looking concierge. 

“Was there a problem?” Nichole asked.

“No,” Hank replied shaking his head, “some people just enjoy being disagreeable.”

“Well, we won’t let that spoil our night, shall we?”

The sergeant didn’t respond but a quick smile fluttered across his lips as he ushered her to the elevator.

The muzak of the elevator mixed harshly with the music of the lobby, and Nichole was glad as the doors slid shut against the cacophony of sound. 

“You are full of surprises tonight,” she stated as they rode upward to their room.

“Am I?” Hank replied, being cheeky.

“I’m accustomed to you just wanting to talk but getting a hotel room has other implications.”

“And do you find those implications, not to your liking?”

Nichole actually laughed, “Hank, if I didn’t like doing what you are implying, then I wouldn’t be in this line of work, now would I?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Though I must say,” she commented, “there are less expensive places you could’ve taken me. There really is no need to try and impress me.”

“It’s less about the cost and more about the cleanliness,” Hank stated straightforwardly. “I’m not particularly fond of rolling around in sheets that have been tainted by other people’s sweat, sebum, semen, or other bodily fluids.”

“Rolling around? My, what type of shenanigans do you have in store for me Hank?”

The man practically blushed as he looked down at his feet but was saved from responding by the doors opening up on their floor.

“1307,” he said quietly, “down the hall and to the left.”

Teasingly, she pulled the keycard from his hand and walked to the door of the room, purposefully swaying her hips sensuously. Truth be told, she loved her job and, though Voight paid the same rate for her time as any other client, her sessions with him had always left her unsatisfied. She wanted him and the thought of him wanting her as well had her excited. 

Sliding the key into the card reader, Nichole entered the room quickly as she shed her coat and hung it up on a nearby chair. Voight was right behind her and she felt his hand lightly touch her waist. Turning toward’s him, she moved in close.

He wasn’t an overly tall man but even with the heels she was wearing, she was still shorter than him. Voight moved in to kiss her but stopped just short.

“Can I?” he asked unsurely. “Is this alright?”

“When you’re paying,” she said softly, “you don’t have to ask.”

“That’s not the sort of man I am.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Nichole stated as she drew his face towards her and locked her lips with his. 

The stubble around his mouth was ever so slightly abrasive against her lips as she moved her tongue against his.

*RING*

Sounds of a cell phone interrupted their little make-out session and Voight stepped back as he fished around in his pocket for the device.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Do you mind if I take this?”

“It’s up to you Hank. The time is yours to use as you’d like.”

“I’ll just be a moment,” he said as he stepped into the restroom to take the call in private.

With a sigh, Nichole waited for Hank to return. Glancing around at the room and the ubiquitous furnishing one finds in all hotel rooms: a bed, nightstand (complete with a Gideon’s Bible, an overstuffed chair, small refrigerator, a desk, lamps, and hotel pamphlet with various information like parking, wifi, and room service). Flipping through the booklet, she looked over the menu selection, a whole smorgasbord, which ranged from tacos, waffles, and harvester oatmeal cookies. Unlike the options from the kitchen, the selection in the mini-bar was limited, besides the small bottles of vodka and whiskey, there were chocolate bars and raisin trail-mix. 

The noise of the bathroom door opening announced the return of the sergeant.

“Everything okay,” she asked as she smiled at him seductively.

“Fine,” he said.

“Then let’s get down to business,” Nichole said as she grasped the open edges of his open leather jacket and pulled him with her as she sat down on the end of the bed. Trailing her hands down the zippered edges, she let go of him and brought her hands down to support her weight as she leaned back, staring up at the man standing in front of her.

“Nichole,” he said warily, “maybe it might be better if we just talked.”

“You didn’t bring me here to talk.”

“But—“

“Whatever is holding you back,” she said persuasively, “don’t let it. We’ve talked enough. Time for action.”

“I want to be sure that I’m not… I don’t know how to say it exactly but this situation could be construed as nefarious in nature. I know it’s illegal but…”

“Oh,” Nichole exclaimed, “will you stop filibustering already? The illegal part just makes it more tantalizing. Besides, I want this. And I think you do too.”

In fact, she knew he wanted it. The bulge in his trouser was evident of the fact. Lifting her hands from the bed, she undid his belt with practiced efficiency. The other fastening of his pants were undone with equal proficiency and placing her fingers through the fold in the fabric at the front of his boxers, Nichole gripped his engorged member.

“Wait,” Voight said suddenly, reaching down and grabbing her hand, “we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m a cop.”

“Fine,” she said, “don’t pay me. Just give me that cock.” And with that final statement, she had his penis out of his pants and in her mouth.

The sergeant moaned but she hadn’t even gotten started yet. Taking the length of him in her mouth, she licked up and down the shaft. Then, taking a hold of him, pushed her head down so that the tip of his dick hit the back of her throat. She repeated this action multiple times as he ran his fingers through the locks of her hair. 

Since he seemed to be enjoying himself, Nichole pulled out one of her favorite tricks as she curved her tongue so that the tip tickled the underside of the head of his organ. He gasped and shivered all at once.

Pulling away and leaning back, the whore looked up at the cop and asked, “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” Voight stammered.

“Then come and get it,” Nichole said as she backed up further on the bed and pulled down the top of her dress so that her left shoulder was bare.

Hank may have been in his fifties, but besides the salt and pepper hair, the stout man’s body didn’t show the signs of age or neglect as he stripped off his clothing except for his white undershirt and patterned boxers.

Joining her on the bed, Voight reached over and traced his fingers down the bronzed skin of her arm. Nichole locked eyes with him for just a second before rolling over and pulling her hair from behind her neck to over her shoulder, revealing the top of the zipper of her dress. 

Holding the zipper between his fingers, Hank gently lowered the thin piece of metal. The back of the dress opened, Nichole easily slipped out of the garment and turned to the man behind her and took his face in her hands. She pressed her lips against his, as Voight lowered his hands to her breasts. 

His hands were tender at first but quickly that progressed to him sliding his hands beneath the fabric of her bra and firmly massaging the supple mounds and tugging at her dark nipples. Unclasping the back of the lace strap, Hank lowered his head as the fabric fell away and covered the areas with his face as he licked and sucked on each bud in turn.

The whore’s panties were the next thing to go as he pulled them down almost reverently.  

“What’s this,” he asked, noticing the small figure tattooed on her hip.

“Oh,” replied Nichole, “that’s Calliope, the muse of poetry.”

“Poetry, huh? What kind of poetry?”

“All sorts of poetry, limericks, sonnets,” she said with a wink. “Or, you know, the type of poetry two people make in bed.”

“That’s my favorite kind,” he responded as he cupped her plump ass in his hands. Then bringing her closer to him in a bear hug, he flopped down on the bed with her onto of him.

“Hank,” Nichole giggled as she pulled off his shirt and underpants, “these need to come off if we are to continue.”

Retrieving a condom from one of the discarded articles of clothing strewn about, she unwrapped it and rolled it down the length of his cock. Nichole was a professional after all, she wasn’t about to take any unnecessary risks. 

The sergeant reached out and grabbed her hips and assisted to position her so that she was straddling him. Their eyes met?

“Are you ready?” Hank asked huskily.

“Are you?” she replied with a smirk and lowered herself down onto his waiting and eager member. The head of his penis breached her outer lips and spread her cunt open as she impaled herself on him. Flexing her pelvic muscles, she was rewarded with the sight of him gasping as he involuntary threw his head back in pleasure.

“Mmmm,” she hummed as she ground down, “that feels just right.” 

His fleshy cock within her felt perfectly snug, the more than adequate length and thick girth filling her in an ever so satisfying manner as if his his dick were a sword in its sheath.

Adjusting her position, Nichole began to move in a serpentine fashion as she oscillated her hips back and forth, raising and lowering herself to her knees.

“Fuck,” Hank gasped as she reached out one hand and put it on her breasts, the other hand on her clit, gently tapping the bundle of nerves.

Unused to her clients engaging in this sort of altruistic behavior, she reveled in the sensations he stirred within her. 

“Mmmm,” he growled. “You must like that.”

“Yes,” she said breathily.

“You like my hard cock in your juicy cunt?”

“Yes.”

“You like fucking in a way that makes your legs weak?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I love seeing you like this. Naked and greedy for dick. The way your pussy is wrapped around me is a fucking dream. You’re going to milk my cock for every ounce of cum you can get. I’m going to drain my balls in your cunt like the nasty fucking whore you are.”

It was flabbergasting, who knew that the cool and collected cop had such a dirty mouth? It sent shivers of pleasure up and down her spine. She was losing her concentration and was taken by surprised when he grabbed her and flipped her onto her back and got on top of her, pushing her legs back.

Reaching down she grabbed his cock and repositioned it at her entrance.

“You are such a slut,” he growled. “You want this, don’t you? Tell me.”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes! Fuck me!”

He was more than happy to comply and he slid his dick back inside of her. 

“FUCK!” Nichole screamed. The man’s cock inside of her was stretching her in the most delightful ways as he rammed into her repeatedly.

She knew he wasn’t going to last much longer as he lowered her legs and positioned himself his arms on either side of her. The position they were in was putting her into sensory overload as his lower abdomen rubbed against her clit. Fuck.She wasn’t going to last much longer either.

It was like a spell that was about to be cast, practically witchcraft. The anticipation had her on edge and she defenestrated every care she had as her climax was imminent. 

With one last thrust, she could feel Hank’s cock throb within her as he shot his load. And the thought of all that cum was what sent her over the edge as her peripheral vision blurred. Closing her eyes, the darkness was starrified by blips of light. 

Settling on the mattress next to her, Hank breathed heavily as he came back down from his high as they both descended into pure serenity.

A few moments past before Nichole rolled off of the bed and headed over to the restroom.

“Where are you going?” Voight asked.

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I’ll be right back. Besides, I think you might be in the mood for a second round.

“You must be clairvoyant,” replied Hank with a slight smile.

A/N: For @cindydoll2 Like this work? Join the Tag List

#chicago pd #hank voight #smut #fan fiction #fanfic #18+ content

[captain-natey]

Bloom (WLW Rivetra roommates modern AU)

Rated: T Ship: Fem!Levi x Petra word count: 4k

AO3

First Kiss

When Levi put up an offer about looking for a flatmate, she didn’t expect to end up sharing a home with someone like this.

Petra Ral, a 24-year-old University student with a smile glued to her face, made a major shift in Levi’s daily life at home. It had been almost half a year since she moved into the bigger room from the 2 available and changed their basic cheap IKEA-filled place with her heart. 

She was everywhere, wherever Levi looked; in the plants blooming by the window, the fluffy navy carpet spread in front of the couch, and the funky patterned pillows on it. Since she, herself, didn’t have much stuff (she hated hoarding), Levi let Petra take over the interior. 

At first, she continued to live her life like usual, mostly staying in her room, not engaging with whatever the other person was doing, but it seemed that Petra just couldn’t let her be. She constantly found ways to invite her to watch a movie together, taste the new recipe she tried, or catch her in the kitchen to ask about her day. 

Levi hated all of that. Having her day be interrupted was a nightmare. Petra must have realized that at some point, since she stopped bothering her. Ironically, not long after that, Levi ran into her in the kitchen while the ginger was engrossed in preparing a special brew of tea. She watched her, checking the temperature of the water and waiting for it to cool down to exactly 80 Celsius before pouring it into the small cup with a blend of leaves. It changed everything. 

Curious, Levi came up and asked the flustered girl about what she was preparing. They clicked instantly once they discovered their mutual love for tea. Since then, when Petra knocked on the door, she had a tray of tea set and ready for them to enjoy in the evening. 

By now, they became friends, and it was the first time when Levi felt at home and not just like sleeping in a place she currently was in. 

She was preparing dinner when Petra came back home. After a moment, the overdressed ginger joined her in the kitchen. 

“I’m about to kill Oluo,” she whined and sat at the counter with her hands on her cheeks. “He forgot to study, AGAIN, and I had to cancel my date to go help him get it into that empty head of his.”

Levi grew accustomed to hearing about her friends. It was part of spending time with Petra, she overshared a lot, letting Levi keep her private life to herself. 

“You didn’t have to,” the dark haired woman noted, not looking up from the boiled vegetables she was cutting. 

“Yes…technically not. But, you know, I can't leave a friend in need of help.” 

“Did it strike you that he just wanted to ruin your date?” Levi pointed, a spark of irritation formed in her chest, but she pretended it was nothing. 

Petra blinked and looked up in the distance. 

“I…don’t think so. He knows we’re never going to leave the friend zone, I hope,” she said, unsure. “Well, anyway…I think me and Patrick are getting serious, so… I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Petra followed with a small smile. 

Levi didn’t know what to say. She never met the man Petra was seeing, at least from her stories he sounded decent. 

“How did you know you liked girls?”

She looked up at the curious ginger, a little surprised, but didn’t show it. 

“I kind of always knew,” she replied simply. “It was harder to realize and accept the fact I don’t like men.”

Petra let out a thoughtful hum. Levi remembered the time when Petra learned about her sexuality. She was pretty shocked and flustered, apologizing for assuming she was straight and assuring she had no problem with it. Levi didn’t understand all the fuss. Apparently, people from the countryside weren’t used to being openly queer. 

“Why? Did you kiss a girl at a party or something?” Levi snorted, as she finished preparing her meal and turned to face the ginger. 

“No! I’m just curious how it works.”

“Kissing a girl?”

“Stop teasing me!” Petra laughed, a blush covering her cheeks.” I meant, knowing you’re into them.”

Levi shrugged, sending her a smirk. Petra was adorable, exactly her type.

When she told her friends about her new flatmate, they knew about her crush right away.

“Straight girls should come with a warning” is what her friend, Erwin, had told her as they drowned their sorrows at the bar. Deep down, Levi hoped for Petra to be at least bi, but she was better not to dwell on it. One day, Petra will move out and they will part ways. It was a matter of time, so why worry about it.

“Want to try it?” Levi pitched casually, eyeing the other woman.

“The salad?” 

“Sure,” she replied and handed the bowl to her. “And kissing.”

Petra choked on the food and coughed before looking back at her in shock.

“I won’t make you,” Levi assured her, keeping it cool.

“Well… I guess, if it’s okay with you…” Petra said, her face turning red.

“I don’t mind. You’re a clean person, so you don’t disgust me.”

Petra laughed, covering her mouth and swallowed the rest of the food before putting the bowl back on the counter. 

“Should I go brush my teeth?” she asked, unsure, and tucked her overgrown bangs behind her ear.

Levi rolled her eyes and walked up close to her. She was feeling too awkward about it to try to make it romantic, especially when it was just Petra’s curiosity. She grabbed her jaw from below and pulled her into a prolonged, but not intense, kiss. It lasted for barely 5 seconds, then she let her go. Levi couldn't help but lick her lips afterward. Petra’s touch was as pleasant as she suspected.

“Oh!” Petra let out, red as a tomato and a blank expression on her face. “So…well…it is different.”

“Wouldn’t know, never kissed a man,” Levi wrapped up the conversation and went to her room with her salad bowl in hand. 

When Petra applied to rent a room in Trost, she didn't expect to end up living with someone like this. 

Levi Ackerman was the most introverted, emotionally AND physically closed off person she ever met. For some reason, she craved her attention even more due to that. 

Living alone with another girl was a new experience. She definitely didn't expect Levi to leave her room in a lacy bra without any padding like it was nothing. That's how she learned about her nipple piercing, anyway. 

Levi was the coolest person she had ever met. She was enamored in how little she cared about other people's opinions. It was as if nothing could throw her off. 

She used to feel jealous of her beauty at times. The sharp jaw and high cheekbones made her look like a model. Petra could swear Levi would make a fortune on being a fashion or makeup influencer, but Levi couldn't care less about her looks. 

When Petra told her about it, she looked at her like she was crazy. 

It was when Petra was complaining about her love life and suggested that Levi could probably have any man she wanted, she learned that Levi, in fact, had no interest in them. 

She felt stupid, embarrassed by not even considering that. She never met a queer person before, or at least no one came out to her. She thought Levi would want to share more of her thoughts about it, but she changed the topic as if it was nothing special. 

Months later, when Levi proposed to kiss her, Petra was thrilled. She didn't understand that feeling, but she liked new experiences. She didn't mind Levi's touch at all. She felt comfortable with her and she wondered if that was how it was to have a girl best friend. 

She laid on her bed, trying to fall asleep, but every time she let herself relax, her mind drifted to the feeling of Levi's lips on hers. 

They were so soft, she couldn't get it out of her mind. Even the way her flatmate held her face was softer, despite it being a firm grip. 

Frustrated, Petra turned to her back. Levi would be disappointed if she knew how much she was thinking about it. Clearly, it was a casual thing for her. Some people just didn't care about kisses and that was it. 

Her Tears

Levi was sitting on a windowsill next to the balcony, playing with a cigarette in her hand. It wasn’t lit, but she was looking at it, trying to convince herself to not smoke it. Petra didn’t like it, she always wrinkled her nose when she smelled the smoke from her. It wasn’t like Levi was addicted, she mostly smoked from boredom, it calmed her nerves a bit too. She sighed and looked into the distance behind the glass. 

The ambience of the city and the noise of a low volume tv channel playing in the background got interrupted when she heard the door to the flat unlocking. She was convinced Petra was about to spend the night partying with her friends and boyfriend, and it was barely 11 PM. 

By the characteristic clank of Petra’s keys hitting the shelf in the hallway, it must have been her, who else could that be. 

“Party canceled?” she asked, looking in the hallway's direction, but couldn't see the other girl, so she looked away again. She heard her changing her shoes and noticed her entering the living room in the corner of her eye. 

The answer did not come, so Levi took a look at her again. Her eyebrows went up.

Petra's face was pale, eyes red, and her hand trembled when she took off her sunglasses. The ginger tried to say something, but her voice got caught in the cry, and she gritted her teeth to stop.

Levi looked at her, frozen in place. She had never seen Petra looking so miserable before. She left the forgotten cigarette behind to walk up to her. 

“You okay?”

Petra slowly opened her mouth and took a shaky breath. 

“Patrick cheated on me,” she said, opening and closing her fists. “I…really thought there was something between us, I…it hurts.”

“Piece of shit,” Levi grunted, feeling the irritation overflowing her, but the empty look in Petra’s eyes distracted her. “That only shows he wasn’t worth it.” She tried to console her, but it only caused the tears to drop heavily from her cheeks down on the floor. The older woman sighed and embraced the ginger. 

Petra hugged her back instantly and hid her face in her shoulder, her silence turning into quiet sobs. 

“Sorry this happened to you. I’m sure you didn’t deserve it.”

“Mh…” the girl whimpered.

Levi waited patiently for her to calm down, doing her best to not focus on how good it felt to have her in her arms. It wasn’t the right time for that. Seeing that Petra wasn't about to calm down soon, she scooped her up and carried her to the couch. 

The girl searched her purse for wipes and wiped her nose before she surrendered her body into the pillows. Levi sat down next to her and, instantly, Petra moved closer to lay her head on her shoulder while embracing her arm. 

“He is…a piece of shit, indeed.” Petra replied finally.

“Obviously.” 

“He did it when…when I canceled our date. He thought I’m hooking up with Oulo and just playing with him.”

Levi looked at her with a doubt in her eyes.

“Does he even know you?” She said with a doubtful tone and embraced her with one arm. Petra found her touch soothing. 

“I guess… I didn’t really know him, either.”

“It will be fine. You’ll see.”

“I don’t want to go to bed. I don’t want to cry into my pillow like a stupid…” she didn’t finish her sentence, just sighed. 

Levi looked around and let go of the girl to move the pillows and reach for the blanket. Without thinking, Petra crawled under the blanket with her, hiding herself to the point Levi could only see the top of her head peeking out. She scooted the sobbing girl closer and relaxed, mindlessly watching the late night news that appeared on the tv.

“Take your time.” She said in a softer tone.

Sleepover

Levi looked up from her laptop when she heard a double knock to her bedroom. The doors opened slightly and a ginger head peaked into the room. 

"Do you wanna hang out?" 

The dark haired woman frowned, dark eye bags pronouncing her tired expression. 

"It's 2 AM. Why aren't you sleeping?" she asked, eyeing her flatmate. 

"I don't know," Petra sighed in a reply and entered the room. She was looking down, Levi noticed. "I can't sleep and I know you're usually up late so…" 

She looked up, seeing Levi stretching and closing her laptop. 

"What do you wanna do?" 

Petra’s expression brightened and she walked over to climb onto her bed. Levi followed her and sat with her legs crossed. 

"Talk. And braid your hair," the ginger explained with a grin on her face. 

"Figures," Levi rolled her eyes. Petra was obsessed with her long hair. If it was anyone else, she would cut it by now just to get rid of the attention. She turned her back toward her and relaxed. 

Petra sat behind her and started brushing the dark strands with her fingers. Levi closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasuring sensation. 

"So, what's keeping you up?" 

The ginger was silent for a longer moment and sighed before replying. 

"I don't really know. Maybe nerves. I'm going to see my family over the weekend. Don't get me wrong, they love me a lot, but they are very… invasive. They want to know everything. I don't know how to tell them I don't want to come back during the break between semesters."

"Why not just tell them outright? "

"I wish it was that easy. You must have a great relationship with your parents if you can be that honest."

Levi opened her eyes and played with her fingers. It wasn't normal for her to open up but, after all, it was Petra. She made her do a lot of unnatural things. 

"I don't. My mom died of sickness when I was little. I don't know my father and I don't care to know him." 

"Oh… Sorry."

The honesty Levi could hear in the other girl's voice was reaching dangerously deep into her heart. 

"It's fine. It's been a long time. I don't feel anything when I say this." 

Petra hummed in thought and stopped playing with her hair. Levi wondered if she finished the braid. She didn't expect getting embraced by her from the back. Petra's soft cheek brushed over hers, making her heart beat faster.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, but I'm glad you turned out like you did regardless. You're an awesome person, and I'm so glad I've met you."

Levi could feel her face reddening. This interaction was way too mushy for her, but somehow, she didn't want her to let go. This sweet talk was foreign to her. 

"Thanks," she managed to reply and cursed herself, feeling Petra's arms relaxing before she moved back. Levi gathered her composure and turned to her. 

"Time to sleep. It's not good for you to stay up so late." 

Petra smiled at her. 

"Is it good for you?" 

"Don't get so bratty," she grunted, and moved the covers to hasten her to get under them. Petra bit her lip and sneaked in with her. She watched Levi turn off the bedside lamp. 

It took a moment before they were able to see each other in the darkness. Levi noticed the other woman was looking at her, so she sighed and pulled her close to her chest. 

"Go to sleep." she told her, stroking her soft hair. 

"Goodnight, Levi," Petra replied in a sweet voice, hugging her back and snuggling closer. 

Craving

"Petra… don't do this to me," Levi let out shallowly, while holding the ginger's arms firmly, so she couldn't move closer. 

Despite the background noise of the party, time seemed to stop between the two of them. 

Hidden behind the corner, in the garden of Petra's rich friend's house - after a couple of drinks - Levi found herself in the arms of her lovely roommate. 

It all started because she got pissed at the sight of men shamelessly flirting with Petra. They weren't even supposed to see each other. Levi tagged along with her friends to the party and discovering Petra was also attending wasn't a nice surprise. There was a reason she never hung out with her like this. 

She was able to ignore how much this woman attracted her to some point, but seeing her being swooned by others turned her murderous stare on right away. 

When Petra approached her in worry of her bad mood, Levi didn't want to talk, but eventually got convinced to try to relax and drink with her. 

She found herself keeping the ginger close, with one hand holding her waist, subconsciously scaring off others from trying to steal her attention. 

Petra's cheeks were flushed, which Levi brushed off as a result of the alcohol, but the alarm started to ring in her mind when she started snuggling into her with no shame, despite being in public. 

She wanted to enjoy it, she craved it, her touch and affection, but the cold reality stayed in the back of her mind. 

They were talking in low voices when Petra started to steal glances at her lips and finally leaned for a kiss. 

That's how they ended up in that situation. 

"I won't be your drunk experiment," she said quietly, trying to hide the pain inside her. She kept eye contact with the girl, hoping she would just snap out of her drunk, stupid idea. Her heart wouldn't stand it. 

The ginger seemed confused, but it was hard to read her expression in the dim light of the nearby lamp. 

"I'm not… that drunk." 

"Petra," Levi said more sternly. "I can't." 

"Am I gross?" Petra asked worryingly, making the other woman frown. 

Levi took a deep but shallow breath. 

"Listen to me," she started, barely holding a shake in her voice. "This? It will hurt me," she said, tightening her grip on her shoulders, as if she was stopping herself from running away. 

"I'd never hurt you, Levi," Petra said, clearly not grasping the situation in full view. 

"You need to sober up."

"I'm not that drunk!" 

"Then what do you think you're doing?" 

"I…" 

The words got stuck in Petra's throat and silence fell between them while they looked into each other's eyes. 

Levi's expression softened. Whatever was going on in the ginger's head, she wasn't messing with her on purpose. She raised her hand and ruffled her hair before grabbing her hand and leading her back to the garden where the party went on. 

She spotted Petra's friend and approached her. 

"Here, keep an eye on her, okay?" she said to the surprised girl with strawberry colored hair. 

Petra was quiet. She didn't look upset, but she seemed absent when Levi left the two of them. 

Confession

Next couple of days, they lived in this uncomfortable dance around the topic of what had happened during the party. 

Petra was rolling from side to side every couple of minutes in her bed, distressed by the thoughts in her head. 

It was easier to ignore her feelings when she had a lot to study for, but now after the exams, the relief got replaced by embarrassment. 

She didn't see much of Levi this week and she wondered if she offended her that much. In an awkward morning they ran into each other, she apologized to her older roommate just before she headed to work and that's where the topic ended. Levi was either unusually busy, or she intentionally spent more time outside to avoid her.

All because of me acting stupid on alcohol, Petra thought, turning onto her back. After a moment of mindless looking at the ceiling, her hand wandered to her lips and she touched them softly with the ends of her fingers. 

There it was, the uncertainty of what she actually wanted. The scary truth she was pushing aside since she started living here. 

Levi made her feel things like no one before. It was different from her crushes on boys, that's why it was so hard to grasp. When she crushed on boys, she wanted to be noticed, approved and complimented.

When it came to Levi… the feeling hit deep within her. So much stronger, intense. The dark haired beauty made her feel special by simply talking to her. Her icy gaze that could be so piercing, yet softened when she looked into her eyes, the pronounced jaw and cheekbones, her long fingers and firm touch - she was strong in every way. 

Petra closed her eyes and sighed. It was only a friendship, a close friendship. She adored her, but that was it. 

She could find a man who would distract her, or maybe Levi could find a girlfriend, and that circus of emotions would stop.

Letting that thought sink in, she took another deep breath. Seconds passed while an invisible force started tightening around her heart. 

With a sudden spark of energy, she frantically got out of bed and marched straight to her roomate room. She opened the door without thinking, earning a surprised face from her friend who laid on the bed, texting on her phone in the darkness. The ginger hit the light switch and bit her lip before speaking out. 

"I lied," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm not sorry." 

Levi looked confused, but she sat up. 

"What?" 

"I'm not sorry about doing… About trying to kiss you. Because I really wanted you to kiss me. I like you," she confessed loudly, her voice shaking. "And I don't know if you have someone already, but the thought of it, it… It's so bad. I don't want… You treat anyone else like you treat me," she sobbed and lowered her head, wiping her eyes with the short sleeve of her shirt. 

Levi was looking at her in shock and finally put her phone down. She frowned for a second before standing up to approach the distressed girl. Petra had a hard time looking her in the eyes. Levi grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit down on her bed together.

“Sorry I…cry so easily.” Petra mumbled, looking up to try to stop it. 

“Are you…sober now?” Levi asked, eyeing her. 

“Yes!” the ginger let out, frustrated, which actually amused the other woman.

“Okay, no more yelling. You’re gonna make the neighbors write complaints about us.”

“Sorry…” Petra replied in a small voice.

Levi watched her bothered expression and without thinking too much, she grabbed her elbows and moved her hands down her arms to her wrists, pushing her onto the mattress at the same time. Petra ended up pinned under her, her lips slightly parted in surprise. Levi’s face seemed devoid of emotions, but inside, there was a whole rush of so many of them. 

“I don’t like when you cry.” she stated after biting her own lip, deep in thought. “Especially if it’s because of me.”

Big amber eyes looked straight into her own. Her wish was coming true and she couldn't quite grasp that realization. She moved her hands again, this time to intertwine their fingers. 

“I have a horrible crush on you, Petra.” Levi confessed in a low voice, leaving the other one speechless. “So this better not be a joke.”

“I-It’s not.” she assured her right away and took a nervous breath. 

Levi’s mouth twitched into a smirk and she leaned in to catch her lips in a kiss. This time, finally, a real one.

#wlw rivetra #rivetra #fem!levi #female levi ackerman #happy price #lesbian #bisexual #petra ral #citrinate writes

[cryopathiic-a]

 “ i’m  the  only  thing  inside  of  you  that  you  can’t  control. “

A sigh of frustration.

The view of the skyline beneath is what you pay for in this place. Because, all things considered, between the awful waiters ( all men? really? the passionate advocate for women's rights within Dōma is simmering with anger! ) and the lack of music ( which prompts more conversation; and Muzan-sama has only been focusing on one topic ) does not justify these prices! But... it is the perfect scenery for romance; taken straight out of a movie — which is the only idea of what it means to be romantic either of them has. A cheap imitation of human tastes. It's preposterous, at best.

But it was beautiful. It had been beautiful, for a moment, there; the two of them, with muffled city noise in the distance, a beautiful moon rivaling the lights, fingers intertwined over the table, looking into each other's eyes — resembling those happy endings he never quite understands and she always pretends not to like...

And of course, greed being what brings these two together, she had to go and spoil it. And place her demands again, for them to make it official — which is far from her endgoal and they both know it. She just wants more contracts to bind him by. To control; to yank on his leash when she feels threatened. Well, that's just not happening. He isn't looking to wear the old ball and chain any time soon; especially not with this one for a wife, which, apart from unethical ( who marries their own boss!? ) would be detrimental for his mental health ( a term he recently discovered and has been religiously abusing to get his way ever since )

So she led the subject there and he, of course, reiterated that firm 'we'll talk about later', which leads them to here and now. And one is looking to a swift fall from the restaurant rooftop, if her expression upon being denied is any telling. Prismatic eyes seek an escape in that beautiful panorama.

❝ Why do you never tell me things like that in bed. ❞ A much more appropriate time. Because now she's driving his mind places; and then she will be the one complaining that he's not taking it seriously.

Which, by all means, he isn't.

It should be blatantly clear by now that unless she resorts to an unprecedented degree of violence, she is not getting her way here. His hands withdraw from hers and instead splay open over her untouched plate.

❝ Look, I'm sorry, I get it, we're out, the night is lovely, you look positively delicious tonight; it's just the perfect setup to discuss it. I understand why you're bringing it up here, but, I just wish we could spend one night in the present and not the future, you know? Is it that irrational to ask for some simple time with you? Doing nothing else, except you; all of you. ❞ He returns his gaze to her, another weapon deployed alongside the saccharine smile and the way his cheek presses to his own shoulder with a cutesy cant of the head. Hey, if you're looking to placate the devil herself, you ought to, at the very least, act a little cute to get your way.

❝ Besides, I don't think you want to talk about it now, either. I think you're just a bit nervous because of the election and all... well, it makes sense that you'd want to go back to working on your vengeance as soon as possible. But can't that be tomorrow? Do you really want to discuss PR when we're out for dinner at a place like this? Wouldn't you rather be kissing me? ❞

#(( slippery antics for u )) #(( dont make him jump from the rooftop fr fr )) #♛ ¦ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇꜱ༺ answered #fallesto #♥ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇᴅ ʙᴏx ᶠᵗ. ᴸᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵘᶻᵃⁿ | fallesto ♥ #𝚅 𝟶𝟼. ⟅ i have been here as i am a thousand times ⟆

[badsext]

Okay, this one is short and sweet. I might add more later. Big thank you to @salvador-daley for the fabulous gif! No content warnings 😊

After stumbling on his birth mother’s address in Reginalds’s study, Klaus takes the next Greyhound bus from New York to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. He’s got the sultry vocals of Amy Winehouse stubbornly refusing to go to rehab playing in his headphones and an assortment of pills keeping the ghosts at bay.

The bus stop is a few miles away from the address on the tattered scrap of paper in his hand. He had spent most of the trip nervously folding it over and over. It is a wonder he can still read it. And there are no cabs out here in the boonies. He’ll have to hoof it through the gravel and tall grass in his strappy sandals.

A few minutes into his journey, he passes an Amish horse and buggy, and then another. He waves, but the driver doesn’t react. That’s strange. Aren't these guys supposed to be nice?

He shrugs it off and takes the gravel path to an Amish family farmhouse on what is presumably His Amish family’s farm. He is spotted by a bearded man wearing the same sober expression as the buggy driver, so Klaus gets right down to business. “Hello there. I was wondering if you could help me find Rachel…Rachel Hershberger?”

By now he is sweating. The sun is high in the sky. He cups one hand to shield his eyes and holds the other out for a handshake. “I’m Klaus. I’m her son.”

The bearded man looks him over. Another less bearded man wearing near identical clothing comes up behind him. They whisper to each other for a moment. They both look back at Klaus. The man sporting the longest beard finally turns back to shake Klaus’ hand. “Ezekiel. Follow me. I’ll take you to Rachel.”

The woman who answers the door has a baby on her hip.

“Mom?” Klaus extends both his arms for a hug.

“Excuse me. I don’t understand.” She looks confused.

“Sarah, get your sister, Rachel.”

“Aunt Sara!” Klaus smiles at her admiringly until Rachel approaches. His gaze turns to her. She has bright green eyes and curly brunette hair that stubbornly escapes her bonnet at the temples.

Ezekiel introduces Klaus. “This man says he’s your son.”

Rachel pauses for just a second, the. gently cups his cheek in her hand. She gasps. “It is you!” She has none of the cynicism of the men. The miracle baby that nearly had her shunned some 20 years ago had suddenly returned.

“Do you think I could stay here and…you know…try it out?” Klaus grabs the straw hat hanging on the wall by the door and pops it on his head. “See? I blend right in!”

Rachel looks to Ezekiel and the others for approval. Ezekiel nods soberly. “Get him some shoes. There’s work to be done.”

“Thanks, EEzee. You won’t regret this!” Klaus assures him with a gentle slap on the back.

Rachel shakes her head at Klaus. “Don’t..don’t do that.” She scolds him with a faint, almost undetectable little smile.

Klaus attempts the men’s chores, tilling the soil, fixing fences and harvesting corn. But they send him away on an errand because he won’t shut up. He comments on everything. The fresh air. The pastoral views…And “Wow, what a workout. You guys must be ripped under all those modest clothes!”

Klaus takes so long on his errand, the men assume he’s gone home. When he returns, he goes instead into the kitchen with the women. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Rachel whispers a warning that goes gleefully unheaded.

The women are making apple butter, fresh bread, schnitzel, dumplings, meatloaf, and pork pot pie. Klaus sneaks a taste of each one, making exaggerated moaning sounds. “Sinful!” He declares. The aunties pretend to be offended, while secretly enjoying what they assume must be a compliment.

“Stop snacking,” Klaus. “You mustn't be seen here when there’s work to be done.”

“But I am working. See?” He gestures to the bowl of string beans he’s been idly snapping into a variety of different lengths. Rachel sighs. “Perhaps you could go care for the animals.”

@salvador-daley @super-unpredictable98 @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator

#klaus hargreeves #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy #robert sheehan #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus tua #tua klaus #robert sheehan fanfic

[averagebacchaereader]

may 8th

Liza

Christian (get it because priests are… y’know) 

CW: heavy sexual content, religion. 

CHRISTIAN takes centre stage. kneels. 

CHRISTIAN: i am a depraved man. cruel. i see wicked things, and i savour them, i run my tongue along them, soaking in every taste and i’d beg for more, i would. i do. i crave passion and sex because it makes me feel alive. desire makes me feel alive. sometimes i think it’s the only thing, and that’s fucked, there’s more to life than sex, i- but when i feel her. god. when i feel her. it’s vibrant. how she trembles. how i… respond. every twitch is sticks breaking ahead of me, i’m a wolf, a fox with a mouth dripping blood, i need to nurse on a fleeing rabbit. feral. disgusting. god help me. i pray, but i… it’s hollow. no words will make me stop wanting this. no faith. i’m ruined. i’m… no longer human. i feel something worse. 

LIZA appears behind him, lit from behind, an angel. 

CHRISTIAN: i feel everything. more. i feel nothing. i feel angels, i feel hurt. burning. everywhere. 

LIZA: oh, take pity. 

CHRISTIAN: angels. 

LIZA: get up. 

he does. still, he does not turn to face her. 

LIZA: you want me. 

CHRISTIAN: more than anything. 

LIZA: you’re a dog. 

CHRISTIAN: i know. 

LIZA: i spit on you. 

CHRISTIAN says nothing. 

LIZA: hm. men. i tailor myself to you, and it takes, it takes, it takes. look how you flush. are you embarrassed? 

CHRISTIAN: i-

LIZA: don’t speak. 

she’s right behind him now. laces a hand over his chest. she feels his heart. 

LIZA: so close. and is this god to you? 

he says nothing. 

LIZA: speak. 

CHRISTIAN: yes. 

LIZA: you feel your life in my hand. 

CHRISTIAN: yes. 

LIZA: you want me closer.

CHRISTIAN: i want to consume you. 

LIZA: greedy. 

CHRISTIAN: always. 

LIZA: and you’d still want more. 

CHRISTIAN: you’re an exceptional slab of meat. 

LIZA: i’m an absurdist piece of theatre nobody gets but everyone pretends to understand. i’m a mouthpiece for a despondent author. no i’m not. yes i am. i’m a carefully crafted divinity in the form of a woman. i’m whatever skincare routine is currently trending. i’m fucking ancient and i’ve eaten boys alive, starting from the wrists. i swallow. 

CHRISTIAN: yeah, fu-

LIZA: yeah. 

CHRISTIAN: i want you. 

LIZA: he wants me, he wants me. am i supposed to feel good?

CHRISTIAN: i feel you press against my back. 

LIZA: you’re flushed. you swell. 

CHRISTIAN: you’re the hottest fucking thing i’ve ever seen. 

LIZA: i’m a nightmare. i drip in grime. i’m obsessed with blood and entrails. 

CHRISTIAN: i’d give you mine. 

LIZA: what?

CHRISTIAN: intestines, and shit. 

LIZA: hm. 

CHRISTIAN: if you’ll bite my chest. tear me open with your teeth. 

LIZA: i’ll think about it. 

CHRISTIAN: you think about me?

LIZA: sometimes. 

CHRISTIAN: i pray for you. 

LIZA: i heard. is that helping much?

CHRISTIAN: it’s making everything worse. 

LIZA: typical. you can get back on your knees, now. 

he does. 

CHRISTIAN: gladly. 

she moves, to be beside him now. he can finally look at her, and he does, greedy, drinking her in. maybe throw in a whimper or two. 

LIZA: weakness. slobber. you drool for me. 

CHRISTIAN: i can- 

LIZA: it’s a metaphor. 

CHRISTIAN: huh?

LIZA: shh. just go with it. 

CHRISTIAN nods. 

LIZA: i am fond of you, after all that. 

CHRISTIAN: yes. 

LIZA: it’s unfortunate. 

CHRISTIAN: collar me. 

LIZA: god what is it with all of you?? “collar me”?? 

CHRISTIAN: i- 

LIZA: sorry. i’m being rude. i love you. i like your silly curly hair. 

CHRISTIAN: it’s not curly. 

LIZA: no, but when it- sometimes it looks like it is. 

CHRISTIAN: uh.

LIZA gets down on her knees. 

LIZA: you’re boring me. grab my tits. 

he does. hungrily. 

CHRISTIAN: will you kiss me?

LIZA: will you eat me?

CHRISTIAN: i’d be glad to. 

LIZA: the sentiment is returned. 

LIZA kisses him. they embrace. a sort of peace. eventually, they fuck. this can be as abstract as wanted, haha theatre weird stupid theatre stuff metaphors wow drama i’m so educated and good at writing. 

LIZA (during sex): i don’t believe in holiness. i used to, i was raised religious, but i don’t think anyone is pure, and i don’t think anyone is “ruined”. greed is natural and not something you can be trained out of. no one is entirely selfless, and if they are, i’m sure they think they’re not, and guilt is imperfect. impure. i wish i could believe in god, but i don’t, i don’t want to think there’s someone up there judging us off a stupid, rigged universe. you want me to believe in god, the christian god, when the majority of christians are portrayed as- you know? in the media? i am not homophobic, or transphobic, or anything like that, i think people should believe in whatever they want, all that stuff. i don’t think it’s right for god to condemn me for not wanting to stand with a crowd that’s so often represented like that. and if he is going to condemn me, i may as well get a couple orgasms out of it. god, that's good. harder.

AUTHOR’S NOTES

i must be the most fuckable and esoteric fisherman at the pond. 

what was i listening to while writing?

my slut playlist for sluts of course!

#playwriting #writing #thoughts on sex and being a woman also the fleabag priest is not as grand a person as everyone pretends he is

[linawritesocs]

my ocs (+ ships) as palette names!

here it is!! all titles are from this post AND HONESTLY I LOVE THEM SO MUCH SOME OF THEM SOUND LIKE REALLY COOL CHAPTER TITLES

all palettes were assigned based only on the titles and not the colors! though some palettes (the (name)-core ones) do have my ocs' vibes ndjdkddk

avery: wishing to rant about fanfiction but not wanting to show how much of a nerd you secretely are, you can’t just ask a guy why he’s in love, some days i’m afraid i will cut my eyes by the sight of glass shards (yes i picked this one only bc of his surname jdksksdkl IT DOES HAVE HIS VIBES THOUGH)

vance: only the floor candy can sustain me (vancecore), the act of balancing a bottle of juice on your head, some days i feel like a lobster on a skateboard 

merrill: next time maybe don’t go into the forest at night hm buddy? just a thought, you are who we say you are because public opinion beats self worth every time, putting on a show to seem alive / when i don’t feel alive (wow these last two are SAD) 

allen: focus on me (ignore the blood), do you remember when you told me that you love me when you told me that you love me when you told me that you, murder and other expressions of love 

roland: stand still as the darkness grows roots in your mind, i loved you i did so how did we end up like this, men like us die alone because we think we deserve it (;w;)

fake!jay: hey quick question are we really about to commit arson? (literally his dynamic with allen), the doctor tried to check my heartbeat only to find out i don’t have one (a reminder that he's not really human!), the privilege of being born somebody else (THIS ONE. OH GOD THIS ONE) 

real!jay: the lack of self esteem i’ve felt since i learned how to read or write (;w; AGAIN), soda cans are great i love accidentally spilling liquid on myself, when i was a small child i held an iguana once 

austin: i’m always at least a little bit scared hopeless and frustrated, a classmate of mine once borrowed one of my pens and then decided it was such a good pen he’s just gonna keep it (austincore), crying because cats are cute and deserve the world 

minnie: this is the third time someone put strawberries in the bathtub who keeps doing this please stop (minniecore), the horrifying ordeal of having loud neighbours, unexplainable excruciating pain that started suddenly and will never go away 

hayden: an unhealthy relationship with one’s own identity (THIS IS LITERALLY HAYDEN), what flavour is your mind (a reference to him trying to understand other people's personalities more so that it's easier for him to manipulate them), the only thing greater than my ego is my impostor syndrome 

riley: i’m a weirdo who likes to eat chalk, have you found yourself or your loved ones suffering from a case of empty eyes, an overemotional state projected upon the unsuspecting public (LITERALLY HIS UNIQUE MAGIC)

angel: this will hurt you more than it’ll hurt me - and that’s okay!, the girl in a blue dress that lives in every village ever (angelcore), the magical princess’s strawberry-scented battle axe of infinite bloodshed 

bunny: wasting your life feeling like an underperforming tool in someone else’s hands (her relationship with angel..), the eye lips eye emoji face fills me with unbridled rage, what do you MEAN there was a fire 

seth: your house has no anomalies but i’m reporting you for bad taste in art (YEAH THIS DOES SOUND LIKE SETH), you love them now you’ll hate them later (sethcore),  i haven’t left the house in months (his backstory 😔)

and now, the oc ships!

avery x allen: what are you doing in my house / now now i don’t usually make it a habit to - stop yelling - break into people’s homes but as you can see sometimes i do, once again i am forced to ask what in the world did you bring into our home / what do you mean what did i bring it’s very clearly a radioactive waste barrel don’t pretend you don’t know that, the tall faceless lad out the corner of my eye who watches me sleep while pointing at the door 

vance x riley: the man who looked at me so sweetly in soft flavours of deep beige, wish me luck honey (i couldn’t ask for more), just friends but we kiss sometimes 

merrill x cater: can you help me find what’s wrong with me, men like us aren’t supposed to feel these things, it’s past my bedtime and i’m thinking of you (i don't talk a lot about this ship but trust me, i love them SO MUCH)

merrill x austin: of all the things you could be doing why are you romancing soda cans, wish we could go out for coffee but you hate me and i hate coffee, sorry that your rant about how the game i like ruined the whole series forever didn’t make me like it any less 

allen x nemis: my girlfriend said i eat corn weird which now that i think about it would explain why i’m consistently covered in butter (listen it does sound like them), look at her go biting everyone who comes near her like a champ, here’s cheers to the man who stole my heart away 

allen x hayden: let your tender hands rip me apart, what’s a little murder between friends, i’ve been chugging poison waiting for the day you inevitably take me up on my offer and take a proper bite out of me (THIS ONE. POWERFUL)

minnie x sebek: your love has brought me to the point of no returning, don’t try to tell me how i’m supposed to breathe, people ask me how i manage to think of you everyday and to be completely honest i never know what to say because it feels so natural 

hayden x elpys: i need you to understand that i really do want what’s best for you - and that simply isn’t me, you are a dream in a crowd of nightmares, you must have real self confidence mortal to attempt flirting with something all holy 

seth x riddle: dunks you in tea LOL, get your shoes off my bed you animal (these ones are chaotic and i love it), he to whom the cake’s dedicated 

seth x rollo: i touch you and my hands burn my hands burn my hands burn (what have you done) (yeah it was painful to type this one), give me salvation i swear i won’t bite, well first of all i am positive what you did is a criminal offense / and second of all why didn’t you invite me (hiii i love "seth x rollo as a villain couple" so much <3)

#beauty with self grown thorns: avery #a gamer skater boy: vance #idia's e boy servant: merrill #the ultimate simp: allen #the gardening club leader: roland thorn #the literature and animals lover: jay #the lonely mechanic: austin #the mouse girlboss: minnie #the chameleon with a god complex: hayden #allen's kuudere cousin: riley #a strange but loving dorm leader: angel #a stressed vice dorm leader: bunny #the isolated prince: seth #friends' ocs!