#buddie fandom let me breathe challenge

[devilscastle69]

panic! at the drugstore (j/jk, nanami)

hiiiii @ezynse merry xmas, happy new year, happy day. <3

im ur secret santa. <33 i hope u like this fic. ily. i want u to know the j key on my keyboard is challenged so i wrote "Goo" by accident sm ToT

(sorry for the title i dont even rlly listen to them i- )

please keep this to sneeze kink blogs only! 18+ only!

Summary stuff:

Fandom: J/JK

Characters: Nan//ami, Go/jo, Ijic/hi, Yu/ji,

Pairings: slight nana/go. in the way la croix has flavor

Good future AU (no bad stuff, everyones an adult. set in 2023)

As soon as Nanami detected Gojo’s presence, he should have turned on his heel and left. Instead, he’d gone into the drugstore, reasoning that the necessity of his trip outweighed the aggravation it’d cause. He wasn’t naive enough to hope he’d get out of here without any additional psychic damage but maybe he’d luck out and Gojo would— 

“Nanami!” Gojo sang from a few aisles over. This was starting to play out like one of his nightmares. Verbatim. “Wow, you shop here too?!” 

“Not anymore.” 

Gojo laughed easily and brushed off the obvious rejection with a wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not happy to see your best buddy!”

“I have no such thing.” Nanami sighed and drew out a cough in the process which he managed to muffle into the sleeve of his jacket. Anyone else would have read the room and left him alone, but Gojo continued to chatter on at a volume unfit for the public space they were in. If only he’d move back a few centimeters so Nanami could escape without having to push past him and potentially causing a bigger scene than they’re already causing. He’d already used up his energy—both cursed and otherwise—at work today and he was quickly fading. 

 For the first time, he wished he could focus on the bubblegum pop blasting through the speakers with its sentiments of Sakura blossoms and old times; it would beat trying to follow the embellished story Gojo was telling. He pinched the bridge of his nose. To make matters worse, the temperature change had caused the congestion that had mostly settled by the end of the train ride over here to return with a vengeance. His nose threatened to drip and he risked a small sniffle. Immediately, he recognized it as a mistake when the lingering prickle sharpened and traveled deeper into his nose.

As if he hadn’t sneezed enough today. 

“And after all that I got some wagashi at this great place near the hospital, Great Luck right? And haha it was! Anyway, the point is… I got some stuff for Yuji, but then I got hungry waiting for the car so I figured I’d better make up for it.”

Nanami made a point of checking his watch as a last ditch effort for a polite departure, less for Gojo’s sake and more for the sake of everyone else in this godforsaken store. But most of all for his own sake, considering he’s quickly losing the battle against the pertinent tickle up his right nostril. “I don’t have time to talk,” he said evenly, breath only wavering once he’s gotten the last word out. 

Unfortunately, Gojo clasped his shoulder, refusing to let him leave. “Did you take the train here? We could carpool instead, Ijichi is—”

“ht’KKxt!” Nanami interrupted with a poorly restrained sneeze directed into the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Bless you!” Gojo’s head lolled to the side; he had the decency to release him, but otherwise didn’t move out of his personal space. Nanami nodded and turned away. “Wow, that sounded painful. You okay?”

It was. “hGNXt’ch! h’kKt…chh.” Damnit. “Hh- kmpht’Chhh!” He might not have been able to see Gojo’s eyes, but he sure could feel them on him. This tickle just wasn’t going to quit until he let it out, and he’d rather end this as soon as possible. “h’eSCHh!” 

“Oh bless you.” Gojo, ever uncaring of displaying any decorum, took zero steps away from him. He examined him from a few different angles, tapping his chin as he hovered. “Bet I can guess why you’re here today!”

“Excuse me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed small circles all the way into the inner corners of his eyes and tried to ignore the heat that had risen to his ears. His head pounded even harder than it had before. 

“Always so formal, huh?”

Always so inappropriately casual, huh? Nanami glanced at Gojo’s basket and its contents: strawberry shampoo, bags of candy, winter apple body wash, face masks, moisturizer, cotton candy flavored lip gloss, and more items he couldn’t quite make out, but surely none of them were essential enough to inconvenience Ijichi in the way Gojo was. Everything he’s learned about Satoru Gojo has been against his will, and now he’s horrified that his brain was wasting the time wondering if he’s one of those people who can’t go to the store and truly buy one item.

“So, how was your—”

“I don’t have time to talk. Excuse me.” Risking a shoulder check, Nanami walked towards the aisles. He tried not to sniffle more than strictly necessary and tried to ignore the extra set of footsteps behind him. Key word was tried.

“Oh wow, you really sound terrible.” Gojo said sympathetically, continuing to haunt Nanami all the way to the cold and flu aisle. “How long have you had that cold?”

Why did it have to be Gojo?

“Stop following me.”

“You forgot your basket, though.” 

So he did. “I don’dt need that much.” It was true, but Nanami accepted the basket anyway from the pouting man. 

“Mm, really? You kinda sound like you’re dying, y’know.” Gojo wandered around the aisle and picked up a box of medicine that he held up to his blindfolded eyes. “No offense.” A man started walking in their direction, took one look at Gojo, and immediately turned around. Nanami released a small forlorn sigh through gritted teeth.

“I’ll be finde.” he said, clearing his throat. He could curb the hoarse quality his voice had taken on, but the congestion was something he’d have to live with for now. “You mentionded Ijichi is waiting?”

“Yeah, so hurry up, Nanami!”

“I will n’dot be ri-ridi’hhgg wih—” He’d gotten distracted and hadn’t noticed that the itch from before had been slowly respawning. Gojo gave a questioning hum as Nanami his knuckle to his nose, sniffled sharply, and cleared his throat again. “I will not be riding with you.”

 “Aw, not with me?” 

Nanami shot him a glare. All of his efforts were in vain because the urge to sneeze returned with a vengeance and demanded his attention in a way that put Gojo’s efforts to shame. The prickle spread like wildfire through his sinuses, and in spite of his efforts in snuffing it out, he’d allowed himself to get distracted enough to give the enemy the advantage. “Hh-!” He inhaled sharply before shoving the back of his wrist up to his nose. “nGhthsCH! hh’NGXTCHh’ueh!” That last one had been particularly loud but had been just as unrelieving as its predecessors. “hehH’TSChhiuh!”

 Gojo patted his back. There was a warmth to his palm that Nanami could feel even through the layers of fabric acting as a buffer between them. “Bless you.” Using only his free hand, he easily broke the seal of a travel pack of tissues on the shelf and nudged a few tissues into Nanami’s palm.

“You’re supposed to pay first.” In spite of the protest, he fixed his glasses that were in danger of falling off his face and accepted the tissues; by noon, his handkerchief had become unusable and he’d already gone through the tissues he’d accepted at the train station this morning, so his options were limited. He turned away for a moment to blow his nose. While his efforts were productive, they did little to kill the taunting buzzing in the back of his nose. He pinched his nostrils shut from behind the tissue and willed the tickle to recede.

“Not yet! Hey if I buy your stuff will you ride with me? Wouldn’t you get back sooner that way? Oh, bless—”

“hh’MPHtchh!”

“—you again!”

He took a moment to massage the bridge of his nose in a silent apology to himself for the poor attempt at stifling before clearing his throat and bringing up sodden tissue to wipe the lingering moisture from the red rims of his nostrils. 

No amount of free cold medicine would make spending his free time with this absolute menace in a small enclosed space worth it, but at the same time it’d be less aggravating for him to just go along with it in the long run. Gojo’s already made it clear he has no intention of leaving him alone. He gave half a nod and picked up the first bottle of cold medicine that he saw and a bag of face masks and took a few steps in the direction of the check out. 

“That’s all you’re buying?” Gojo asked. His lips formed an exaggerated frown and his forehead wrinkled as if he was bewildered by Nanami’s shopping habits.

Nanami was too busy fighting a losing battle against the threat of another sneeze to tell Gojo to stop adding more items to the basket, but he managed to shoot him a pointed glare before his expression crumpled. “Hh- hehhH- …mPHTtshhiuh! Pardon,” he said more out of habit than anything and wiped his nose again, “I have more than enough now.” 

“So frugal.”

He supposed the cough drops, vicks, lotion tissues, vitamins, and nasal spray wouldn’t hurt, especially if accepting them will get Nanami out of here faster. Since he’d already opened the tissues, he figured he might as well put on one of the masks in the pack. His glasses immediately fogged and he tucked them into his inner coat pocket.

After they’d approached the register Gojo told the cashier they would be paying together and nuzzled his cheek against Nanami’s shoulder in an intimate way. He’d smack him later. 

The cold pierced through Nanami’s coat as soon as they opened the door. As annoying as this situation is, he can’t say he’s upset that he won’t have to walk back to the train station. They turned a corner and Gojo pointed out the car. 

“I know, I know.” Gojo opened the door to the passenger side and abruptly wrapped an arm around Nanami’s shoulder, yanking him into the field of vision as if he’d run away. “That took a little longer than I said, but look who I ran into!”

“Nanamin!” Itadori called out from the back seat with a cheery wave. Nanami is just as surprised to see him, though he’d mostly tuned out Gojo’s story. “No way, what a coincidence!”

Nanami shot Gojo a withering look and gave a slight bow to Itadori. “Itadori-kun…” 

“Think fast!” Gojo called out and threw a bag of candy at Itadori. 

He caught it easily. “Wow, thank you, Gojo-sensei!” 

“Gojo-san, we were meant to be back over a half hour ago—“

“Ijichiiii, you need to relax. Seriously, you’re already getting frown lines, that’s no good. Look, I even got something for you. Tadaaa~” He dropped a pack of instant udon into his lap and a face mask and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “Can you drop Nanami Kento-kun off first?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Ijichi sighed and took a moment before he half-heartedly thanked Gojo for the gifts. Then he turns to look at the backseat. “Of course, Nanami-san.” He and Nanami shared a quick glance as the cause of their stress tore into his own pack of candy and ate it noisily. 

“Oh, why are you wearing a mask, Nanamin?” Itadori asked as Nanami sat next to him and put on his seatbelt. “Do you have a cold?”

“It’s alright,” Nanami assured him and cleared his throat, “just a mild one.”

“I dunno if mild is the right word there, Nanamin.” Gojo interjected as Ijichi finally started driving.  

Itadori’s face fell and Nanami sincerely considered kicking the back of Gojo’s chair, though he was too busy pinching his nose shut over the fabric of the mask to stifle a sneeze that had nearly escaped his detection. “hGXxt’chshh!- excuse me.”

“Bless you. I hope you feel better soon.” Itadori frowned and offered him a piece of candy. Nanami shook his head and Itadori shrugged and ate it himself. 

“You’re gonna pop an eardrum like that,” Gojo chastised, clicking his tongue.

All of this was past the point of the nightmare he’d thought he was having earlier and was starting to veer into the fever dream category. Perhaps in more ways than one. Gojo flicked through the radio stations until he found what he was looking for and started singing along with a pop song. Itadori joined him and they pointed at each other while Nanami reflected on his life choices and folded his arms more tightly over his chest.  

Nanami glanced at Ijichi’s GPS. Twenty minutes of this felt like a death sentence. His limbs had started aching a few hours ago and now that the adrenaline was long dead and he was sitting again, he felt it in full force. The sudden urge to lean his temple against the foggy window arose and he indulged in it, ever so slowly pressing his forehead to the window. 

While Gojo was especially pitchy, the noise at least took the focus off of Nanami as he muffled a series of throat-tearing coughs against the crook of his arm. His lungs gave a slight whine as he regained his breath and he could feel the silent attention the other three men were giving him. 

“Can you breathe okay, Nanamin?” Itadori asked, patting his shoulder. If it were anyone else, Nanami would have batted the hand away, but doing that to Itadori would feel like kicking a puppy and it's not like he was heartless. While most people become hardened and jaded after living the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, Itadori remained as kind and genuine as ever over the years. 

Instead he nodded. “Yes. Don’t worry.” 

Itadori gave him a thumbs up. The singing continued and he pitied Ijichi for how long he’s had to put up with Satoru Gojo today. 

To Gojo’s credit, he toned down the singing, but Nanami almost wished he’d go back to his caterwauling, because his nose had chosen that moment to betray him yet again. It itched like mad and putting pressure on the tip of his nose did nothing to chase the feeling away. He did his best to muffle it into his sleeve anyway, hoping the extra layers would do anything to make it less intrusive than he knew it would be. “Hh- hgzt’SChhiuh! heHMPHhshh’ieuh!- pardon me.”

“Aw, bless you,” Gojo chimed in, stretching out his seatbelt as he turned his body around to face him. “Do you want my jacket, Nanamin?” He puckered his lips.

This time he let his shoe dig into the bag of Gojo’s chair. “No.”

Ijichi quietly turned up the heat. “Give him a break, Gojo-san,” he said tiredly. 

The rest of the ride quite literally blurred together as Nanami fought to keep his eyes open. With the heat on, his chills were kept at bay, and it was easy to drift off to sleep. He jolted and shook himself awake at least three times before the familiar building came into view, and the third time, it’d been because Itadori was saying his name to get his attention. Ijichi pulled up closer and stopped the car. Nanami thanked him for the ride and held up a hand to stop Itadori from offering a side hug. 

“Get well soon, Nana—”

Nanami shut the car door and ignored the rest of Gojo’s sentence. Getting into the apartment was a blur, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d come home in rough shape, relying on autopilot. He immediately hung his jacket and loosened his tie, and then he removed his face mask, cringing as he pinched away the lingering moisture from his nostrils. He’d done his best to avoid rubbing his nose all day, but his efforts seemed to be in vain considering how sore it still was. 

As much as he wanted to just collapse into the couch, his discipline won out and he managed to undress. Though, not without challenge. “huhh…HGSCHh’uh!” He sneezed all over his chest, too slow to cover in his exhausted state. Undeniably, it was a relief to be able to sneeze freely in the privacy of his bedroom. “hh-...hDJtSchh’euh! hhaH’DTzSHhh’ih!” 

He found the tissues from the bag and blew his nose, letting out a slight hum of relief as some of the congestion came free. His eyes still ached and with a quick dose of medicine, he was ready to close them. He laid in bed with the extra throw blanket atop the comforter and waited for the chills to die down so he could sleep.

It  was restful for the first few hours. As he’d anticipated, he woke up in the early hours of the morning coughing, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and his mouth bone dry. 

3 AM. 

It was too early for this. He forces himself into the kitchen to fill a tall glass with water and to find a few more items from the bag. He took the cough drops out and put one in his mouth and placed the rest of the bag on the bedside table. 

Somehow knowing that he needed as much sleep as possible hindered him from doing so. He drifted in and out of sleeping for the entire morning, occasionally walking up mumbling something incomprehensible. 

He was finally asleep until his phone went off a few minutes past 6 AM. It wasn’t his alarm, but an obnoxious ding.

Gojo: 

heyyy nanamin~ 

… Nanami clenched his jaw as he watched the animated ellipses bubble and waited to see what could possibly be so important to disturb him.

Gojo:

good morning! 🌞hope u get some rest today hahaha :D you sounded awful 🤒dont go dying </3

Typically jujutsu sorcerers have about as much paid sick leave as he would’ve had at his former company: basically none. What kind of fucked up—

Nanami frowned, realizing he’d missed some other notifications, including the ones canceling his mission for the day. It’s easy to put the pieces together. He had to put the phone down to sneeze a few times, and it continued to ding throughout his fit.

Gojo:

we’ll have to go out when youre better!! next friday?? theres a new barcade i wanna try and then KARAOKE!!!!!! :DDD

Gojo:

Nanamiiiiii D: 

Gojo:

don’t leave me on read

Gojo:

bless youuuuu :3

Gojo:

no i cant hear u im just guessing

Gojo:

was i right?? o.O 

Nanami silenced his phone and went back to sleep, deciding to address the new situation, along with the strange feelings that’d started coming up, later. For now, at least he could relax. 

Nanami:

Thank you.

#snzfic #snz #sneeze kink #my writing #j/jk #cold snz #sneeze fic #snz fic

[madlori]

Do you have any 911 fic recs? I was sucked into the show by yours and I'm really in it now!

Boy, do I. This fandom moves VERY fast with the fics but here are some of my faves so far. Note: most presume you’ve seen all of the show through season five.

Those Two Firefighters by darkfairytale (dunno if they have a tumblr)- Buck and Eddie go viral after the incident with the botfly larvae with the hashtag #thosetwofirefighters. I love love love a good social media based fic and I think I've read this one eight times by now. Also has a follow-up.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by @hmslusitania. Eddie is missing and presumed dead after a rescue goes awry and Buck takes custody of Christopher, but must deal with Eddie's parents challenging his parental rights while mourning the man he loved but had never told. This author's other works are also a good place to keep reading.

I Like You So Much (It's Kinda Gross) by @gayhoediaz (best username too) and @dickley-buddie. A story told in tweets wherein Buck is a firefighter who is super thirsty for MMA fighter Eddie.

Everything's Coming Up Milhouse by @henswilsons. Part one of a series. The viral Twitter adventures of Eddie Diaz, aka Mr. LAFD Updates Man. Delightful. Note: if you haven’t gotten this far, this really happened. In the second half of season five, Eddie left the 118 to be a public outreach officer for the LAFD at Dispatch (and got to be friends with Linda which is delightful) and part of his job was manning the LAFD Twitter. He did this because he didn’t want Chris to worry about him getting hurt at work. No worries, he went back to the 118 at the end of the season.

I Know a Place We Can Go by @somaybeamystery. The boys' adventures getting hit on during calls in WeHo. Cute and romantic.

Forest for the Trees by lamardeuse. Just a great getting-together fic.

listen to you breathing (is where i wanna be) by @theladyyavilee. Oh god this one is a gut punch in the best way - Buck is caught in a building collapse during an earthquake and presumed dead for like two days.

Actually, Truly by milenadaniels. I loooooove an outsider POV and this is a great one - Helena and Ramon Diaz come to LA in the aftermath of Eddie's shooting and Helena is confused to find Buck everywhere in her son and grandson's life.

That'll get you started. BTW if anyone knows the tumblrs of the ones I didn't know, let me know and I"ll edit.

#buddie #buddie fic rec #fic recs #9-1-1 #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[slowpoke-fics]

Appreciated

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: softish!dom!Steve x Reader, former Natasha x Steve, former Thor x Reader

Summary: The team make a bet that you have to settle, sending Steve into a sexual frenzy.

Warnings: alcohol, sexual themes, pet names, Dom!Steve, slapping, rough sex, soft sex, overstimulation, pleasure Dom, use of traffic light safe words, fluff, smut, choking, crying but in an I love you way, still crying kink, subspace, little bit o’ cockwarming, I know I've missed some, so please read at your own risk 18+

A/N: I really enjoyed the lovey dovey vibes I got from this, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it; 4.1k words

You’re surrounded by the team in the common room, all of you with a glass of Asgardian liquor in your hand. It’s a rare time that you all get to sit around and relax, just talk to each other like people. You’re all laughing because somehow you’ve gotten to Thor vs Steve, who was more worthy. Everyone is a little intoxicated, none more so than Sam, who is leaning against Bucky, poking the bear. “I would lay a hundred down to say Thor’s got it hung,” Sam hiccups, “I mean, the man radiates big dick energy.”

Natasha laughs, hiding her face under Clint’s arm for a moment before joining Sam, “You’re wrong big bird,” clicking her tongue at Steve, “our super soldier is swinging, uncomfortably so.” Thor shakes his head, glancing at you, then quickly noting you’re hiding behind Steve, sure of where this was going. Tony hisses at the conversation, “I’m offended I’m not even in the race.” That causes Bucky to break out into laughter, shaking his head, “Stark, you aren’t even on the leaderboard.” The group erupts into laughter, Tony shaking his head when Pepper whispers something in his ear, a blush rising to his cheeks as his shifts in his seat.

You smirk at Tony, but you are no longer able to ignore the bickering between Sam and Natasha. “I’ve had personal experience, you ever seen Thor, Sam?” Sam rolls his eyes, grinning with teeth, “The man’s massive, Nat, his weapon is a hammer, you ever understand innuendos?” Wanda and Peter can’t control their laughter anymore, and Steve’s hand grips your thigh roughly when you nip at his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell them?” Steve whispers in your ear, nipping just under your neck. You shake your head and blush moving your head away from him. He rubs your thigh gently turning back to the conversation. He wasn’t going to push, of course he wasn’t, he loves you and wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

The rest of them though? Too drunk to care.

Wanda is the first one to speak up, after her heavy laughter stops, “Y/n,” your head is snapping up to hers, “you have personal experience with both of them, why don’t you enlighten us?” You laugh and shake your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying.

Thor hums in appreciation, reminiscing on the days when you two were bed buddies, “Ah yes, little lamb, why don’t you tell them how good I am?” You gasp, the outright disrespect Thor throws at Steve to call you a name reserved for only when you were under him and the insinuation that he knew how to please you better than Steve made your blood boil at his cockiness. The alcohol poisoning your liver made you laugh at the situation though, because nobody is ever going to compare to Steve. Unable to catch your breath for a minute, Nat and Sam boast out, “Oh yes, enlighten us on the most worthy member,” and “Y/n/n, Thor’s a god, I know you’re with Steve now, but be honest.”

You snap your head at Sam, squinting your eyes, a challenge. You turn to Natasha with an apologetic look, causing the circle to break out in little giggles, ooo’s and ahh’s. Steve’s smirking because he knows you, studies you in his spare time, knows this joke. “Oh, Nat, I’m sorry,” the group breaks out into laughter and you raise your voice with a 180, now dripping with pride instead of regret, “for the two hundred bucks Sam just lost!” Steve grips your thigh again as you rub your fingers together towards Sam, “Pay up, because my Stevie,” you learn forward as the circle drops to a pen drop silence, “he’s a god himself.”

The entire group hoops and hollers, Thor shaking his head with a sip on his drink, hoping you were just talking up your man for brownie points. Nat raises her arms and let’s put a happy scream, “Oh, suck on that, big bird!” Sam’s gaping at you, he huffs and pulls out his wallet, slamming a hundred in your hand then Nat’s outstretched one. You laugh, slamming back onto Steve, pressing your lips into his. He twists his hand to the side of your face, pressing you into him. Tony groans and kicks Steve’s leg, “Put it on ice, Capsicle.” Before you could back away from Steve, he growls in your ear, “Good girl.”

Steve’s throbbing, you can see it. See how hard he is through his pants, see his cock twitching. You know that when you get to your bedroom, you’re going to get exactly what you want. He’s so distracted by you, by the way you openly claimed him in front of everyone. You were his good girl, and he couldn’t wait to show you. So once Tony and Pepper announce their goodbyes, you and Steve are quick to follow, dismissing yourselves and stumbling off to the elevator.

You’re giggling and leaning on Steve, as soon as you’re out of eye line of the other members, he picks you up over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp and shake a little, “Stevie, let me go!” He laughs and playfully slaps your ass, “No, dove,” he whispers, “not in a million years.”

When you step onto the elevator, he unclips your left shoe, “You know what you do to me?” He slides it off, holding it by a strap on his pinky, “Blind me with your energy,” he unclips the right shoe as the elevator opens, “take my breath away with your touch,” he slides the shoe off to hang it next to it’s match. You’re rubbing his back with one hand, your other peaking through his waistband on his hip. You’re intoxicated by his praise more than you could ever be by alcohol.

He’s carrying you down the hall towards your room, curling the hand that’s holding your shoes around your ass, holding you and your dress in place. "Bring me back from the edge," his free hand grabs the zipper on the back of your dress and pulls roughly, opening your dress in one tug. He quickly opens the door to your bedroom and drops you to the bed after dropping the shoes.

You bounce when you hit the bed causing you to laugh, your head tilted back. Steve’s committing every movement you make to memory, his heart fluttering when your chest bounces with your giggles. He knocks the door shut with a kick as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the floor. He crawls over your middle, smiling gently at you. "Gonna thank you for everything you do," his fingertips tickle your arms as he slides the straps off of you, you pull your arms through reaching up to trace his muscles. He lifts you easily and tosses you, your head landing gently on the pillows at the headboard.

He tosses your empty dress to the floor, unbuckling his belt with a heated glare toward your naked body, “My my, you are really something.” He rips the belt off, snapping it through the air, your eyes light up with a dare. “Gonna cherish you,” he crawls towards you, grabbing your wrists and putting them against the wooden poles. “You say I am a god,” he wraps your hands up, “then you honey,” he tugs on your secured wrist and slides down your body, “are my goddess.” He pulls your legs down, extending your arms and restricting your movement.

You moan at the roughness of his love, his praise soaking your thighs. His eyes are staring you down, he’s continuing to slither down the bed. He’s kissing and nibbling on your nipples. Your wrists pull hard when you arch and his hard gaze breaks, “Too tight?” You shake your head, but he slaps the outside of your thigh, “You know better dove.” You stretch out your legs, exposing your soaking cunt to him, “No, sir, it’s not too tight, please.” Steve traces the inside of your thigh, “Don’t worry dovey,” he clicks at you, “tonight’s all about you,” he presses his hands on your thighs, pushing you apart, “I know how good you are,” he slides his tongue on your wet thigh, “just wanna make sure you do.”

He hums as his tongue licks up your folds, collecting some of the juices, “You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.” You moan out, bucking your hips towards him, “Captain please, need you to make me feel good.” Steve wastes no time giving you want you want. He slides two fingers into you, drawing a pained gasp from you that quickly turns into a moan. “Oh, baby,” Steve sucks on your clit, licking tight circles before drawing back a little, your hands tugging the best they could, “who’s all this for?”

You’re heaving, Steve’s fingers curling inside of your willing hole, his lips are back on you. When you don’t give him an answer, he stops toying with your clit, causing the heat in you to die down, a whine erupting from you. He licks up your folds, his fingers never slowing, “Tell me, who’s it for.” You spread your fingers out, trying to twist your body but slid another finer in you roughly. You let out a pornographic moan, clenching on his fingers, “You, you Steve, you,” his hand slides back down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles, “always you, love of my life, always my Stevie.” Steve growls, “Cum, now.”

The coil in you snaps, your back arching off the bed as your pussy flutters around his relentless fingers. He removes his hand from your clit, pulling his pants and underwear down roughly, sliding them off and out of the way. You’re coming down from your high when he’s on top of you, fingers pumping hard and fast again. You’re on fire, eyes roaming his body and your arms twitch at the need to touch him.

You’re whining trying to back up, but his thrusts become temporarily rough, shooting pleasurable pain through you, “Don’t run, be a good girl.” You let a choked sob out, your cunt clenching tightly on his fingers. He knows you’re close, your legs tight, and shaking, your whines higher, “You’re beautiful cunt’s desperate isn’t it love?” You tighten at his words, so close to tipping over the edge. When you don’t answer he slows down, causing your eyes to snap open, he pulls your legs up to your chest, “Yes, yes, desperate for you, I’ll do anything, I promise, please!”

Steve removes his fingers from you roughly, grabbing your thighs, pushing them apart to display your cunt and slams himself into you. He’s buried balls deep, twitching against your cunt. He lets you rest a moment as he readjusts, one arm holding both your legs in place, his free right hand finding your clit, “You’re gonna cum like this.” He slams back into you, and as if commanded, you fall apart on him. You let out a silent scream, clenching his cock as hard as you can, your eyes rolling back in the back of your head, clit throbbing as he continues to rub circles.

“Your pussy is suffocating my cock baby,” he leans down to kiss you, swallowing your whines at the painful stretch in the back of your thighs. “Good girl, such a good girl,” your back arches toward him, coming down from your high, thankful that his ministrations on your clit have slowed, “You lost with my cock pounding into you? Are you with me sweet girl?”

You can’t answer, can’t hardly breathe, because he’s started pumping in and out of you with more of his weight pressing into you, taking your breath with almost every thrust. Your eyes are closed, your mouth barely open and it’s clear you’re unable to answer. Steve reaches his hand up, taking it off your clit, and smacks your face, gently but hard enough to snap you back to him. He squeezes your chin, roughly moving your face to the left and then right. “Color?” You take a deep breath, causing him to slowly stop ramming into you. He slides his thumb into your mouth, keeping eye contact with you. Your tongue licks up his thumb, your lips closing around it. He instantly softens, his dominating features fading away, “Come on, tell your Stevie how you’re doin’, what’s your color dovey?”

You release his thumb, smiling at him, “‘S green, Stevie, I jus’ needed a breather.” Steve pouts at you, grabbing your chin and shaking your head with a disappointed look, “Nuh uh. Say it right, pet.” You flutter around his cock, causing him to pulse inside you and let out a deep groan. “Green, sir, please, need your cock, fills me up so good,” you’re begging, arching your back off the bed. He straightens, hands on the back of your thighs bracing himself. He pulls out and rams into you at a brutal pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You moan out, trying to twist away from him, but you can’t hardly move, stuck in his grasp, his huge cock filling you again and again. He knows you’re close, slapping your thigh a couple times, heavy smacks resonating through the room before he reminds you, “Look at me.” You follow his command, your eyes snapping to his. “You’re going to cum again,” he slaps your thigh, “quit trying to run away bunny.” You can’t control yourself, you gush all over his cock when his hand hits your thigh, flutter around him and moaning out, “Thank you sir, never felt so good, thank you.” Steve doesn’t slow down, he grips your thighs roughly and seems like he’s going harder, deeper.

“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel as good as I do,” you whine loudly at his words, tears leaving the corners of your eyes. He grunts and you feel his rhythm stutter, “God yeah, made for me, isn’t anything better than you in my life,” his hand comes to your clit as he turns your body, bringing your leg over his shoulder. You’re overwhelmed by his love, even though he’s fucking you stupid, you can feel that he’s genuine in his words. This man loves you.

“God Stevie, I’m ruined, consumed by you, don’t want anyone else,” you tug on your restraints again, glancing up with tears in your eyes. He brings his other hand up to your face, letting your leg fall free, “Give me one more baby,” he ruts inside you, heat burning at your core, feeling you clench around him makes him let out a deep moan. He moves his hand to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pulling roughly on it. You let out a pained moan, Steve slapping your breast, “Yeah that’s it sweetheart. Gonna be my perfect little girl and take everything I give you.”

You can feel your heartbeat in your pussy, he’s pounding into you but you’re so fucked out and wet it’s easy for him to abuse your cunt. He’s addicted to the way your pussy sucks him back in, his resolve almost breaking and spilling into you. “I’ll take whatever my Captain is willing to give me,” you’re barely able to think about anything else, eyes open just barely enough to see Steve’s head roll back. He lets out a loud and shameless moan, he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing roughly. “Be a good girl, be a good girl, cum, cum right now.”

Your walls throb and he lets go of your throat. Your vision goes white when you take your breath and you’re cumming around him. He sucks in a harsh breath, barely able to move in and out of you because of how frantic you’ve become. “You make it so hard to control myself around you,” he pulls completely out and you watch his cock twitch in the air, red and sore, the thick vein throbbing hard. You whine, but he swallows it when he presses his lips to yours. Reaching his hands up and releasing you from the belt, he bites your bottom lip, “Can you take more baby? What’s your color?” Your pull your hands from his, wrapping them around his neck, “I can’t take anymore, Captain, I can’t.” Steve’s glare is dangerous, his voice controlled by his primal need for you, “I’m gonna give you more, until I’m satisfied or you tap out. What’s your color?” You let a stray tear fall, “Yellow, I need a minute, pretty please, Captain.”

Steve hums in agreement, pressing his lips against yours. He backs just an inch or so away and rests his forehead against yours. Steve guides your legs down and lays you on the bed gently. He’s giving himself as much a break as he is you, he’s not sure that if he slid into your cunt he wouldn’t cum right then and there.

“You know how good your doin’ for me?” His nose nudges yours, “Really made for me,” he kisses your nose, “love making you feel good, am I making you feel good?” You bring your lips to his, initiating the contact this time, “Yes Stevie, I feel so good, ‘s like you set me on fire.”

Your gaze is still far away, barely able to hold your head up. You’re almost cockdrunk, and he’s going to get you all the way there. “Look at me angel,” he’s kneeling in between your legs, watching your every breath. Your head lifts to his, meeting his sly grin. “There she is,” he slides his hands under your thighs gently, lifting your hips for a better angle. “You ready baby?”

Your legs are putty in his hand and he pushes into you slowly, your mouth gapes at the sensation, letting out a small plea, “Oh, Captain, more, more, more.” He speeds up, leaning forward and planting kisses on your neck, whispering against it as he digs his fingers into your hips, “That’s right,” he punctuates with a rough thrust, “good girls beg for more.” He’s lost himself, roughly jerking your hips into him, sucking possessive marks into your neck and collarbone. “Good girls let their Captain decide when they’ve had enough.” Your hands are scratching at his back, a silent please for him to keep going.

“You’re so good to me,” he bites your neck roughly, hips stuttering against yours, his mounds hitting yours just right. “Love me so good,” he’s kissing your jawline, he’s close to coming, and he’s not going to stop this time. He plants a heavy kiss on your lips, “You’re gonna be my wife one day,” your lips find his again, a tear rolling down your cheek, “the mother of my children.” Your hands pull on his hair gently, “Please, cum in me, wanna be a mommy, cum with me.” When you pull on his hair he spills inside of you, pushing you over the edge with him.

Steve sees a piece in you snap, your eyes glaze over, the breath taken from your body. You’re numb, all you can feel is the thump in your chest and the painful stretch of your back, pushed too far past its limit. He’s crushing you with kisses, his hands moving to your hair while he gently thrusts inside you, “Breathe,” his voice calls out to you, “breathe baby.” You take a deep breath in, closing your eyes and finding any part of his skin to touch. You feel so vulnerable, so small, so overwhelmed and overstimulated.

When your high ends, he flips you over so you’re straddling him. You jerk away from him when his softened cock slides back into you, but he just pulls you to his chest, rubbing your back gently. “Good girl, I am so proud of you dove.” Your lip wobbles, shoulders starting to shake. Steve coos at you, “Oh baby, let it out, it’s okay, I’m so proud.” At his words the tears fall freely and your hand clenches around his bicep. “Did that feel so good? Hm? Did your Captain do this to you?” You nuzzle into his neck, hiccuping sobs, Steve’s voice dripping with honey, “Oh my sweet girl,” he starts patting your back, “that’s okay. You can’t think can you? So hard to come back down from your Captain breaking you.” You only let out a silent sob, squeezing his cock with your cunt unintentionally.

“This is what you needed isn’t it? Needed me to make you feel good, needed me to break you and put the pieces back together?” Steve’s rock hard in you again, pressing against your g-spot and slowly rolling his hips. “What’s your color?” You sniffle, Steve waits patiently for you, he’s going to be soft, wants you to have one more. “C-can,” you take a deep breath, “can it be just like this? I love the way you love me.” Steve kisses you softly, his fingers running through your hair, “Of course baby, what’s your color?” You lay your head on his shoulder, “Green, please take care of me.” He finds your clit with his right hand, his left grabbing the back of your neck, clenching to announce his presence, “That’s all I want to do for the rest of my life.”

You let out more tears when he says that, your hands clutching at his waist tightly. Steve’s thumb rubs fast but gentle circles on your clit, your hips involuntarily shaking. “Stevie,” you beg, he kisses your jawline, letting out a questionable hum, “I love you so much, you make me feel so good,” he pushes his hips deeper into you, a sign that he agrees with you. You dig your nails into his sides, indentations would be visible to anyone able to see, cunt letting out another wave of cum around his cock. “I mean it Stevie, you make me feel special,” you clench your eyes when he gets rougher on your clit. “There is nobody on this planet that I will ever want more than you,” you lean up and kiss his lips to seal your words. “I can’t live without you,” you kiss him again, returning the praise he’s given you all night.

Steve can’t control himself, he’s going to cum again, your compliments are tightening his balls, almost bursting. “Would be lost,” you let a loud moan out and move your hands back to his hair, “would be lost forever without you.” Steve starts thrusting harder, barely increasing in speed, still feeling your pussy respond to his treatment. He growls before kissing you, biting at your lips and commanding, “Cum, you can do it, cum for your Stevie.” You do, your lips meeting his and grinding against one another. Your hips are spasming against his hand, desperate for your high to last as long as it can. You feel him shoot his cum inside you for the second time and you flex your walls to milk his cock, his breath heavy as he presses into you.

He rests you back against his chest, a featherlight touch on your back. Both of you are breathing heavy, and your tears are silently falling. You love him so much, words couldn’t describe it. The way he makes you feel absolutely ethereal, like you’re floating amongst the stars. You're lost amount them right now, drifting about. He knows this, it’s why he lets you sit on his cock for as long as you want. The closest you could possibly get to him, laying on his chest, his gentle touch bringing you back down to earth.

After about fifteen minutes, your tears stop. Your mouth is dry, voice hoarse when you speak out, “I love you so much.” Steve kisses your head, “You don’t know the half of it. You’re perfect, there isn’t a damn thing about you that I don’t love.” Heat flushes to your cheeks, hiding your face as best you can, “Even though I cry during sex?” Steve lets out an irritated scoff, “You know how hard it makes me when I make you cry? To know that I’ve made you feel so much that you’re crying? And you’re still begging for me to give you more?” You trace your fingers up Steve’s arm, smiling contently, “I wish you could understand what it’s like.” He pulls you off his cock slowly, lifting you as he suggests, “Maybe you can explain it while we take a bath and clean up?” Your head turns and you kiss his cheek, “Of course. If you’re actually interested.”

He bends with you, holding you tightly with one hand, and you realize you’ve already made it to the bathroom. “I want to know everything about you,” he steps into the tub, bringing both of you into the quickly rising water. “So tell me,” he turns your body so your back is laying on his chest in the oversized tub, “When you fall? Where do you go?”

#marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fluff #marvel smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #Steve x reader #dom!steve #Steve fanfic #Steve fanfiction #Steve Rogers fanfiction #Steve smut #Steve fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers filth #smut #dom!steve x sub!reader #sub!reader #soft!Steve #soft!steve rogers #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fluff #mcu smut

[pintsizemama]

Wrapping Presents

Day 10

Welcome to the 2021 Christmas Writing Challenge! Big thank you to Steph (@toomanystoriessolittletime) for putting this together!!!

Summary: You and Grogu wrap Christmas presents for Din

Pairings: Din Djarin x Reader, Din Djarin x You

Fandom: The Mandalorian (modern AU)

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 822

Warnings: language, kissing, fluff, references to sex…Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: This is from my A Little Rusty Mandalorian modern AU.

Day 9 Day 11 Christmas Masterlist Din Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“Alright, buddy,” you whispered conspiratorially to the adorable little boy next to you. “I’m letting you in on this secret because I know you won’t spill the beans to your dad before Christmas, right?” Grogu nodded, a solemn look on his adorable little face. You held up a box and some wrapping paper. “I got your dad his Christmas gift…and I want you to help me wrap it, ok?” Grogu nodded again. “Oh! I almost forgot.” You pulled out another item. “I got this for you to give your dad.” You handed Grogu a pair of dark blue socks with bright green cartoon frogs all over them. Grogu loved frogs, and you couldn’t resist when you saw the socks at the store.

“Fogs!” Grogu chirped happily.

“That’s right, buddy,” you smiled. “Frogs. Your favorite. You wanna give these to your daddy for Christmas?”

“For Dada!” He shouted in glee. You laughed and kissed him on the top of his head. You and Din had been seeing each other for almost a year now. This would be your first Christmas together, and you were so excited. Din was unlike any man you had ever met before. You mind briefly flashed to the first time he made love to you…and how he had claimed to be rusty but then proceeded to fuck you into oblivion. You shook those hot thoughts from your mind and lay out the wrapping paper.

“Do you want me to help you or do you want to try to wrap yours all by yourself?” You asked Grogu.

“Meself,” he decided.

“Ok,” you agreed. You cut a piece of paper about the size he needed and handed him some tape. “You know how to do it?” He nodded and got to work. You highly doubted that a two year old had any idea how to wrap a gift, but you shrugged and let him do his thing. Din would love it no matter what.

You quickly wrapped your present and set it aside. You turned to Grogu. You barked out a laugh when you saw the state he was in. The socks were hidden inside a balled up piece of wrapping paper that was almost completely covered in tape…and Grogu…well, Grogu was wrapped in tape like a mummy and chewing on a left over piece of wrapping paper.

“Oh, dear,” you sighed. “Let’s get you outta that.” You carefully snipped the tape and untangled the toddler. “No, no. We don’t eat paper.” You pulled the paper out of his mouth and threw it and the tape away. You turned to see Grogu standing behind you holding up the present he had wrapped.

“Aroo?” He asked. You knelt down in front of him.

“It looks awesome, buddy,” you praised. He smiled and wrapped his arms around your neck. You squeezed him tight. “Let’s find a place to hide these before your dad gets home.” He nodded and led you to his room. You watched in amazement as he pried up a floorboard and waved you over.

“You little thief,” you laughed. Hidden under the floorboards was a whole hoard of stuff. You recognized the tie Din had been going crazy looking for a few weeks ago as well as the tv remote, a watch, a pack of cookies, and countless other little treasures. You helped him put the presents in and place the floorboard back. You heard the front door open.

“Whew,” you breathed, “just in time, kiddo. Daddy’s home.” He squealed and raced out of the room to greet his dad. You trailed behind and smiled warmly when you spotted your two favorite guys in a hug. Din noticed you lingering in the doorway.

“Hey, baby,” he motioned you over. You walked to his side, and he pulled you in for a kiss. “Thanks for keeping an eye on the rugrat. Hope he wasn’t any trouble.”

“He was an angel,” you assured him.

“Good,” Din breathed a sigh of relief. Grogu could be a handful. “You guys hungry? I brought home pizza.” Grogu cheered and demanded to be put down so he could eat. He raced off to the kitchen the moment his feet touched the ground. Din took the opportunity to pull you fully into his arms and kiss you breathless.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he groaned against your lips.

“Din, you were only gone an hour,” you laughed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “Still missed you.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “He was good?”

“Yes, Din,” you reassured him. “He’s always good.” Din cocked an eyebrow. “Well, I know he can be…mischievous at times, but he’s just a kid. He doesn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah,” Din agreed. You both heard a ruckus from the kitchen. “We should get in there before he eats the chair.” You laughed and followed Din into the kitchen to enjoy dinner with your boys.

Day 11

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#din djarin #pedro pascal #grogu #the mandalorian #fluff #christmas writing challenge #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din and grogu #mandalorian au #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #din djarin fanfiction #mando #mando x you #mando x reader

[mightysteelix]

Draconic Greed

The first of the promised stories! It should have been ready earlier (around the Summer event) but life got in the way.

Rating: Explicit Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Characters: Siegfried | Saber of Black and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: How much beer can a Saber's stomach handle?

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

Additional Tags: Belly Kink; Bloating; Inflation; liquid inflation; Liquid Bloating; belly growth; Burping; Belly Rubs

Final warning for weight gain and belly kink. Don't like, don't read!

"Siegfried! Siegfried! Siegfried! You can do it, buddy!" Billy's cheering buzzed into the dining hall. A broad smirk came to his face as he rose a hose in his hand. "Ready for the finish?"

The panting warrior grunted heavily in response, most of his attention taken by his protruding gut. He stroke down its topmost part—as low as he could—and in vain tried to push out some pressure. The sheer volume of beer was heaving against the walls of his stomach. However much he nudged, his taut belly did not give. Only wet, deep rumbled echoed in the depths of Siegfried's vast middle, and a burp crept up his throat. Red tainted his cheeks; Siegfried pressed the back of his palms against his lips and tried to gulp down. The bubble of air sluggishly sank back into him and further strained his stomach.

He was sick to the core, unable to keep going. Even with the added Servant durability, he would burst after the first wrong movement. Everyone had their limits—and Siegfried's were an entire keg of beer. Standing up—raising that gurgling weight on his legs—was impossible; as powerful as he was, he could not handle the mass of alcohol inside him. He had carefully balanced his girth on a table, but its edge was leaning dangerously low. If Siegfried kept chugging—and his stomach did not burst like an overfilled beer balloon, it would collapse. Either that or the chair; the metal legs had not stopped creaking since he began.

As Siegfried suppressed another burp—forcing his stomach to fight with more volume—he wondered how it came to that. There was an invitation to drinks, that much he remembered. Then there came a challenge, something about bets, a hint of wounded pride, maybe? Siegfried handled his liquor, but only the most notorious drinkers could push themselves so much and yet stay sober enough to recall.

"Come on, bud!" Billy tapped his foot and aimed the hose towards Siegfried. "A big bad warrior like ya' isn't gonna lose to some beer, right?"

Billy's words hissed under Siegfried's skin. True, what warrior gave up at the first hint of an adversary? Siegfried had faced far more difficult enemies! He could force the alcohol into his insatiable stomach; there was enough room to dry the keg and even move onto another one. A wild jolt of draconic greed ran through his body, and Siegfried gave his middle a hearty smack. "Keep…" As soon as he opened his mouth, a sizable air bubble shot up his throat, and he let out a monumental belch. The squeaking legs of the chair rocked and almost lost contact with the floor, then with a loud "Thud!" Siegfried's weight fell back on it. "Excuse me," he muttered mortified, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Had he gotten that heavy?"

No need for excuses, buddy!" Billy beamed. "That was a damn impressive show! Think you can do another one after you finish the keg? And make it even louder?" He forced the hose into Siegfried's lips. "Ya' aren't givin' up, right?"Another one? Impossible! Even once was unbecoming of him! To make a spectacle of his belches should be unbecoming! But Siegfried had already slipped up, had he not? And if he planned on tackling another keg, he needed to empty more space in his stomach. Only Billy was around to hear him. "Keep going. And prepare for one round more."

Billy's grin reached his ears, and he pressed the button of the hose. The final bit of fizzy alcohol shot into Siegfried's mouth with scratching ferocity and filled it up. His cheeks bloated, deflated as he squeezed the beer down his gullet and expanded with more liquid. With so much pressure, he could hardly force the pool of drink to move before the next gulp flooded again. And yet, he consumed and consumed, like a greedy beast. Not a drop of beer escaped his lips; it all had to settle in his stomach and push it out! Every heavy swallow, his gut dropped lower, pushed the table, and—Siegfried moaned—gave him more space to grow. But then it would rock back, smash into his sensitive, sloshing middle, and disturb the careful balance. Slowly, the table's edge neared the ground, pinned under the Saber's weight. As he panted, his whole face flushed by his shameless gluttony, Siegfried sucked the final bit of beer and rose a triumphant fist in the air.

He had done it! The pathetic furniture was caving under his immensity, under his matchless greed. And he was enormous, an engorged mass of liquid calories, bloated beyond any sensibility. Siegfried should have been repulsed, disgusted, but his heart beat faster as he watched his stomach push out and in with each heavy, desperate breath."Wow, bud, that was awesome!" Billy plucked the hose out of his mouth and smashed the next one in his mouth immediately.

"Now, round two!"

Siegfried had no time to react before more beer assaulted his mountainous gut. It curved out before his eyes. The table shook uneasily under its spilling heft. His stomach was larger than the rest of his body, almost impossibly huge, set on crushing the puny furniture. It stretched out to fit the sloshing, overbearing beverage. The weight made Siegfried lurch forward, and his bloated middle ached, forced him to suffer even more pressure. He would burst any moment, unable to handle the utter excess that Billy poured into him. And yet, he thumped the immense curve and stroked it with a fist. His eyes gleamed with bestial hunger, a burning desire to finish what had started. Enormous gulps bobbed down his neck, and even as the beer filled every cranny of his middle and climbed up his throat, he wanted to keep going.

"Ah, sorry, bud!"

The torrent stopped. Siegfried patted the sides of his stomach. Some small bubbles popped inside him and gurgled up his neck.

"I didn't wanna push you so much!"

His glassy gaze fell towards Billy.

"I shoulda stopped earlier! Let's see, let's see…"  The Archer fidgeted, biting on his bent finger. "Yeah!" He clenched his fists and, smiling, jumped on the table before Siegfried. "I'll help ya in exchange! Don't worry!"

His hands pressed into the mound of Siegfried's gut. He was forceful yet careful, pressing deep into the sorest spots of the overfilled fleshy mountain. The touches brought Siegfried a short, dull pain. But his winces molded into a relaxed smile, and he moaned at the sweet relief. Siegfried closed his eyes and panted; he had finally reached the end. His stomach gave out some deep, wet rumbles, but Billy would deal with that, and…

A strong joust shook the contents of his stomach. The beer sloshed mightily like a tsunami as Billy kneaded Siegfried's enormous bulk and took place that was filled with bubbles a moment ago. A long-drawn, desperate blast of air erupted out of Siegfried's mouth. The animalistic, desperate belch shook his entire body and propelled him backward.With a titanic echo, Siegfried crashed on the floor. The waves of alcohol crashed around his gut and rose more burps out of him. His huge middle—like a hill—collapsed and spanned upwards with each heavy breath. There was no moving for him, no way to lift all the immeasurable mass. He was like a boulder, a burping, bloated, moaning boulder, and each expulsion of air left him with more room. Room that could be filled. He could be pressed, even more, stretched out and bound by the titanic weight of his own greed. A thrilled, avaricious moan escaped his lips as he almost roared, "Pour the next keg into me."

#siegfried #fgo #belly kink #liquid bloat #beer belly #chubwritings

[forasecondtherewedwon]

If You’re a Robot and You Know It, Clap Your Hands

Fandom: Loki Characters: Sylvie, Ravonna, B-15, Mobius Rating: G Word Count: 1774

Summary: Sylvie faces off against Ravonna while Mobius hangs out in post-prune purgatory with... himself?

“You’re more stoic than he was,” Ravonna noted, nodding at the empty air between them where Loki had lately stood.

Why the taunting, Sylvie wondered. Who was there left for Ravonna to impress? Her subordinates were all dead or unconscious, Loki was gone, the animatronic lizards who were not in fact ruling rigidly over time sat slumped in their seats. There was only Sylvie. Even when she had been a child, thin arm in the grip of a stone-faced woman in black armour like the shell of a beetle, Sylvie had not felt so alone with Ravonna as she did in this moment. It made her very angry. She would much rather have been alone with herself.

“How do you know how stoic Loki looked?” Sylvie spat. “You pruned him in the back!”

Ravonna tilted her head, glowing baton still raised.

“I don’t mean in the face of his own erasure from existence, I mean watching someone he cared about disappear.”

Sylvie’s expression had been hard—more than once, to get by, she’d imagined herself protected by that beetle armour from her childhood, closing her vulnerable parts away behind a scowl—but it slackened slightly in confusion.

“Agent Mobius,” Ravonna explained impatiently. There was a twitch of her eyelid that Sylvie caught and homed in on.

“They were friends,” she said slowly. Then, she stared hard into the Judge’s eyes. “You were friends. You and Mobius. You killed him?”

“I didn’t! I—”

“You had someone else do it?” Sylvie narrowed her eyes scornfully.

With an irritated groan, Ravonna lunged for her, but Sylvie hopped backwards over the head of the fake Time Keeper. She looked down and Ravonna followed her gaze, distracted from her attack by the sight of rubbery faux-flesh and protruding, crackling wires.

“And this?” Sylvie asked quietly, trying not to spook the woman with the weapon. “Did you have a hand in this deception? I never sensed it in you.”

Ravonna scoffed and looked away from the head on the floor.

“You were a child.”

“I was a Loki,” Sylvie snapped back.

Saying that name—the name she’d rejected but never forgotten, the name that had also been his—jolted her into action once more. She wedged the toe of her boot beneath the Time Keeper’s decapitated head and flipped it up, striking Ravonna in the stomach. The Judge folded forward and defensively swept the baton in a wide arc. Sylvie stepped out of the weapon’s path, not anticipating the way Ravonna swung her arm quickly back to hit her with the non-pruning end of the rod; she hadn’t been a Hunter in who knew how long, but she clearly hadn’t lost her skill with the tools of the trade.

The blunt end thudded into Sylvie’s ribs.

She was knocked back, but when Ravonna advanced, Sylvie’s hand shot up to grab the baton, hauling the Judge forward. Unbalanced, Ravonna was no challenge to send sprawling at the foot of the stairs leading up to the Time Keepers’ dais. She landed awkwardly. Sylvie breathed hard as she wrenched the baton completely free of Ravonna’s hold and went to retrieve her sword as well.

As she then moved to assess B-15, who was rising shakily to her knees, Sylvie never put her back to Ravonna. Pruned in the back. What a Loki death.

“You alright?” she asked B-15 softly.

The Hunter grunted and allowed Sylvie to support her into standing.

“Better if I knew where to go from here.”

“Let me worry about that,” Sylvie said.

Ravonna struggled to her own feet and Sylvie held the baton at arm’s length between them, keeping the Judge at a distance while B-15 opened the door behind them.

“Ah ah ah,” Sylvie warned archly, chin and eyebrows raised in impish caution. “You stay here and play with your robots.”

“This is temporary,” Ravonna said as Sylvie edged back through the open door.

Sylvie performed her signature cocked head and smirk.

“Isn’t everything?”

The second they were out of the Time Keepers’ chamber, B-15 slammed the doors and leaned into them, as if Ravonna would imminently begin trying to break them down from the inside. Which Sylvie supposed she might. She really almost admired Ravonna—or would have if the Judge hadn’t ruined her entire life.

She stared at the door handles, then at each of the weapons she held in her hands. Sword or baton, sword or baton? With a deep breath, Sylvie jammed the blade of her sword through the handles to bar the door, electing to keep the baton close. Though it was a less familiar weapon, she was nothing if not highly adaptable. Besides, touching the glowing end of the rod to a person was certainly more efficient than dispatching them with a blade. She wasn’t sure how many TVA workers they would encounter before they were out of here. This place and this time. Keeping the baton was the right choice.

She stole a last glance at the sword. Another little piece of herself left behind.

At the sound of reinforcements headed towards them, she and B-15 hurried away from the chamber.

“She used to be a Hunter,” B-15 said, shaking her head as they strode down the corridor, “like me.”

“I suppose she might have been like you at some point,” Sylvie said. She was interpreting the words a little differently. “I wonder when she stopped.”

“Do you?”

“Not really. I can trust you but not her.” Sylvie shrugged as she walked. “That’s about all I need to know.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I have to.”

“Same for me. Though I can’t say my faith in allies hasn’t been shaken recently,” B-15 said sarcastically. “The Time Keepers aren’t real, Ravonna’s been helping to cover up the truth, and I wasn’t even created here! I probably had to go through that degrading process of having my clothes zapped off!”

“Probably. I didn’t think you’d want to see that as a prioritized memory,” Sylvie said, half-apologetic. While they’d stood in the torrential rain outside Roxxcart, she’d allowed a highlight reel of memories to flash through the Hunter’s mind.

“You know, I always found it kind of strange that one of the few tests we run in this department is to judge whether or not someone is secretly a robot. I guess whoever designed the Time Keepers got paranoid.”

“Whoever that person is, paranoia is the least of their worries.”

“True,” B-15 agreed as she produced a TemPad. “Now, they’re going to have to deal with us.”

“If they’re still out there somewhere and not dead like Loki and Mobius,” Sylvie said bitterly. She flipped the TemPad open and programmed their destination.

“Maybe they aren’t dead. We’ve been misled about everything else. Maybe everyone who’s ever been pruned just ends up someplace… else.”

“It’s no place I’ve ever been.”

“Yet,” B-15 said.

The Time Door appeared before them. Pounding footsteps raced against Sylvie’s accelerating heartbeat as she prepared to step through and leave this place behind. They had to go now, her and her one ally. She couldn’t get above one ally these days. It was better than none.

“Yet,” Sylvie agreed.

—

Meanwhile in Jet Ski Land…

“That’s why I always felt such an affinity for that Earth actor,” Mobius said. “I am Owen Wilson. Or was.”

He dug his bare toes deeper into the slightly rocky beach and watched the slow wash of trash along the shore. It was almost nice here, but not quite. Not a place to stay. Everything inside him had already been screaming that. A lifelong (in this life, anyway) bureaucrat, he’d never felt such restlessness.

“Am… was… what does it matter?” the man next to him asked rhetorically.

He was also Mobius. No, Mobius was him. No, that wasn’t right, they were both Owen Wilson. Variants of him. But this man had shaggy blond hair where Mobius had been grey for as long as he could remember. Also, he appeared to be the only Owen Wilson in sight who had a mustache and he was a little proud of that. Probably stupidly, but it was helping him hold on to his sense of identity in the presence of so many hims.

They were on the beach around him, sitting in the dunes behind him, swimming in the water in front of him. One of the Owens was freaking parasailing through the air up above while another Owen drove the boat that towed him.

“How long have you guys been here?” Mobius asked in awe.

“You know, it’s hard to say,” Owen said, folding his arms thoughtfully. “It’s tough to figure out exactly how time flows here. A little like what you were describing, with your experience at the TVA.”

“Have you gotten to know everybody?”

“Oh yeah, they’re good guys. And all of us Owens are naturally social.”

“What about that one?” Mobius asked, pointing. He could hear the raw admiration in his own voice as the geriatric Owen he’d indicated revved his jet ski, bouncing over the low swells of the turquoise water.

“One of our actors. He was in the middle of filming a movie in Indonesia before he ended up here. Played an international, jet ski-riding spy in sort of a buddy comedy. Eighty-three years old and still a star.”

“What? That sounds incredible! What the heck happened?”

“Well,” Owen told him with a grimace, “the tsunami of 2051.”

“Right,” Mobius said, recalling the list of 21st-century apocalyptic events he and Loki had so recently sifted through together.

“He wasn’t supposed to survive the wave. The film crew had tethered him to the jet ski for safety while they were shooting and, as far as Owen can guess, that should’ve been enough to kill him. That’s what the TVA was counting on. They had to bring him in when he didn’t drown.”

“What a story though! That old Owen is one tough nut!”

“I know!” Owen gushed proudly.

Mobius shook his head in amazement, scanning the water. His gaze landed on something he couldn’t immediately understand.

“And what’s that?” he asked.

“That’s jet-ski Owen.”

“I thought the old guy was jet-ski Owen.”

“Nah, that one’s Owen on a jet ski. This one’s Owen as a jet ski.”

The riderless craft surged across the water until the speed had its front end lifting high off the surface. With a glorious final burst, it escaped the water entirely, executing a barrel roll in midair before touching down once more.

Mobius felt the praise leave his own lips and heard it echoed up and down the beach by all other versions of Owen Wilson in attendance: “Wow.”

#my writing #Loki #Loki spoilers #Ravonna Lexus Renslayer #Ravonna Renslayer #Sylvie #Hunter B-15 #Agent Mobius #Mobius M. Mobius

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Trois:

Chapter One. 

The leading lady will be introduced eventually but I feel like with the way this is written I need to focus on Adonis and Erik first. 

Warnings: AU!Erik, AU!Adonis, smut, bisexual, mentions of blood, threesome.

The 2019 Comic Con at the Los Angeles Convention Center was populous to say the least. Adonis Johnson felt like he was elbow-to-elbow with the animated and roused crowd of event goers. Everyone is grouped like teenagers in those cheesy high school flicks. You have your Nerds—never worried about being challenged to prove their knowledge about the gaming character or superhero on the shirt they're wearing, yelling out quotes in a spirit of shared fandom. Then, you have your cos players—rehearsed smiles on their faces whenever they are stopped to have their picture taken, sort of deteriorating and looking less magnificent as the day goes on due to wig issues, broken weapons, or itchy and hot costumes. Then, there are those individuals like Adonis who endure the hectic universe. 

Adonis is wearing a faded orange muscle tee with a mixture of his favorite anime characters such as Saitama, Goku, Sasuke, L, Yusuke Urameshi, and Spike Spiegel. He styled the tee with a pair of Nike Dri-FIT Basketball shorts in black, black Jordan socks, and a pair of orange and black Air Jordan 1’s on his feet. He couldn’t forget his layered silver chains and finger rings to make it more stylish, or his charcoal black Coach backpack to carry his essentials like the sun screen he needed and some water from standing in that long ass line in the blazing afternoon sun. The cast of Zombieland: Double Tap will be there, and over 800 exhibitors. Adonis didn’t even know where to start or end and at first he figured the map in his hand that he grabbed at the entrance was a great idea but he tossed it in the closest receptacle. 

Adonis scratched at the steri-strip on the corner of his pouty bottom lip since the regular stitches were removed by his doctor almost 48 hours ago. Adonis earned that busted lip from a fight he triumphed in. He didn’t get that wound from the type of fights you see on paper view—he’s an Underground Boxer who participates in Street fighting. Yes, Adonis fights in ‘unlicensed’ matches. This means it operates outside the governing bodies of the sport and is susceptible to rules being broken and fights being fixed. It is illegal in many countries because it is dangerous and disruptive to daily life—running the possibility of being charged with several crimes especially. It’s Adonis’ personal fight club, a badge of honor for him. 

Adonis was introduced to the idea of a fight club by a childhood buddy of his that died five years ago. His name was Clark Wilson. Adonis and Clark used to be in Juvie together—two angry kids who used their fists because of the violence and hatred surrounding them. When Adonis’ father, famous Boxer named Apollo Creed’s wife Mary Anne came looking for Adonis while he was in Juvie, she took him in as her own son and started him out in therapy and anger management groups. For the most part, Adonis felt as if his anger was suppressed but he missed the way fighting made him feel——alive. First, Adonis had to understand the reasoning of a Fight Club. Fight Club is about releasing his anger and stress; about fighting his problems; about going against normalcy and the safe little bubble he has become accustomed to living in. 

Rules were put in place and Adonis found a private property hidden from the public eye so that the authorities can’t interfere. Adonis uses a basement of a record shop for his Fight Club location. If someone would die in Fight Club, there isn’t anything anyone could do. There has only been one case where someone died in Adonis’ Fight Club and he swore to make sure it didn’t become deadly. Brutal, yes, but no murder. Pinching the steri-strip on his lip to keep it in place, Adonis visits an exhibitor—Comic Madness. Pulling out his iPhone so he could use his Apple Pay, Adonis sifts through the comic books to find the ones he wanted. The price tag on them was a bit much but this was a once a year weekend event so he could break the bank. 

Entrepreneur of a fitness company called Elite Body Edge, Erik Stevens strolls through Comic Con after checking out the Hellboy cast members doing a Q&A. Stylish per usual, dangling gold cross earring in his right ear, yellow and black camouflage cargos on, all-white creaseless Nike Air Force 1s, and a lax graphic tee with The Lost Boys on it, Erik pans his Canon PowerShot G7X Mark lll Camera around him, Vlogging his Comic Con experience for his YouTuber’s. When he’s not recording fitness and nutrition videos, Erik is vlogging about his daily life or giving advice to the anonymous subscribers who send him emails. He wanted to edit the video to look like a VHS video for a different aesthetic. Erik strolls past a group of cos players dressed as The Avengers and stops to record them, smiling at the enthusiasm and flashing his gold canines. 

Erik sips from his souvenir cup, the straw making an annoying suctioning noise since it was nearly empty. Shaking the cup, ice chips clanking around, Erik stops to get some more footage. Just when he was about to end his vlogging, there was a rather sexy, good-looking dude with chestnut eyes, amber skin so smooth and velvety looking. The muscle tee he was sporting didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Clearly, he’s lean, and chiseled. Erik haltingly lowers his camera, his inky black eyes trailing over this mystery guys frame with enthrallment. Just when Erik thought he would be coming to Comic Con for some fanboy fun, he spotted a distraction with a nice ass. Erik is a bi-sexual man. Friends jokingly called Erik a hoe that got off on pussy or dick—a reckless hoe that played with fire. Married couples, closet homosexuals, threesomes with women, anything that caused mayhem and wreckage with relationships. Anything to get his thick dick wet. 

Erik’s Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck and his lips parted. When the mystery guy turned around Erik grunted deeply. Lips so thick and plump. Oooh. His breath became ragged and he felt himself swelling. Why did this have to happen to him right now? Donnie must have felt Erik’s hard eyes burning into the back of his skull because he looked back over his shoulder at him with a raised brow and obvious annoyance. The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled with suspicion. Erik found it comical, giving Adonis a sly half smirk when their eyes connected. Adonis shook out his shoulders, focusing back on the stacks of comic books in front of him. Why is his heart skipping a beat and his stomach in knots? The back of his neck prickled and he glanced over at Erik again before he cocked his head to the side. The devilish smirk on Erik’s face sparked Adonis’ short temper. 

Thinking back to his anger management tips, Adonis tried to take a timeout by using “I” statements—to stay in control. Think before you speak, don’t make assumptions, calm yourself. As much as he wanted those methods to work, Erik’s smiling, smug face bothered Adonis. Who is this random ass nigga and why the fuck is he smiling like there’s a joke? Adonis started to feel more and more uneasy about Erik staring at him. Does he know about the Fight Club? That seemed to invigorate Adonis’ irritation because he began charging through a group of cos players and walked right up to Erik with his pectoral muscles puffed out and his hands in fists so tight he could feel the aftershocks from his fight almost two days ago. Erik stood his ground with a single brow raised, waiting for Adonis to cause a scene. As soon as Adonis crowded his personal space that was already so little with how many people surrounded them, Erik made it his business to allow his inky black eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch and back up swiftly. 

“The fuck is your problem staring at me, nigga?” Adonis spoke with a harsh whisper that caused his jaw muscles to clench, “You know me or something?” Adonis paused before he nodded his head slowly, “Let me guess...you wanna fight me?”

“Fight you?” Erik’s eyes become slits, “Why would I want to fight somebody I don’t even know?”

“Well, then you must have heard about me…” Adonis says with a questioning tone. Erik licks his lips and with no regard allows his piercing eyes to memorize the shape of Adonis’ mouth. Adonis couldn’t fight the urge to do the same. He’s turned on. Just as the tension between the two of them reaches a fever pitch, Adonis steps away before he could even realize what he was doing. Adonis didn’t even know he had been holding his breath until he drew in a shaky tone. He’s noticeably quieter now, his aggression tampered. He knew his bewilderment was written across his face. Adonis squared his shoulders and shook out his limbs as if Erik had a bind on him. 

“You good, fighter?” Erik asks sarcastically, “You’re a boxer? I can tell by your reflexes. For a second I thought you were gonna try and knock me out,” Erik smiled. Adonis swallows a hefty amount of spit to calm the tingling sensation in his abdomen. 

“Yeah...I box...underground,” Adonis clarified, “Been doing it for seven years now.”

“Ahh, dirty boxing, I see,” Erik strokes his goatee, “how does one get into that shit anyway? I’m interested.” 

“You don’t choose it like you choose your next meal..you gotta be initiated in...they like to weed out the weak ones…” 

“That hardcore?” Erik took a few steps towards Adonis.

“Hell yeah,” Adonis stares at Erik’s feet as if he were overstepping, “I can tell you more about it if you’re serious.” 

“As long as it’s from the pro himself I’m all ears.” 

This foreign feeling that washed over Adonis’ body was something he felt before when he questioned whether or not he wanted a man to suck his dick. He looks back at Erik just as he smiles and Adonis rolled his eyes away slightly. What the fuck is happening right now? 

“I don’t even know your name, bro,” Adonis held out his hand to give Erik dabs, “I’m Adonis.”

“Erik,” He raised his hand to shake Adonis’. He didn’t want to linger too long but the feeling of his calloused palm teased his hand and it made him want to stroke it. When Erik let go, he allowed his fingertips to brush across the center of Adonis’ palm and that little touch caused Adonis’ biceps to flex. Good to see him react. 

“you gotta be serious...this shit is...it’s rough,” Adonis cleared his throat, “Ain’t the place to really discuss this—“

“Nah, I’m cool,” Erik says with a chuckle—a teasing grin on his face and his eyes now following the definition of Adonis’ arms. Adonis didn’t like Erik staring at him so openly. Maybe Erik got the wrong vibe from Adonis—believing him to be a possible fuck he could conquer after this crowded event, “I’ll stick to boxing in my gym. This underground shit sounds like some kind of deadly contract.” 

“It’s not for everybody,” Adonis says with a smirk, “But if you change your mind, how do I reach you? I usually don’t recruit fighters out in the open like this.”

“Here you go,” Erik pulls out his black leather wallet, retrieving a business card before handing it over to Adonis. It’s a black business card with a gold metallic painted edge for his fitness club Elite Body Edge. The business card is twice as thick as standard cards, since they are printed on 32 pt. uncoated cardstock, offering a superb heft and feel everyone will notice. Erik’s contact information is at the bottom of the card. 

“I’ve heard of this fitness club, all good things too, I’ll keep in touch if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d like to come and watch the fights at least...is that cool?” 

Adonis ponders for a bit, “We have people come and watch but it’s mainly members…”

Erik notices Adonis’ hesitation, backing away a little, “Listen, you hardly know me, I don’t want to intrude on your little secret society. However, you have my card, you can stop by the gym anytime. We have boxing equipment that you can use too.”

“Aight...cool...I’ll come and check it out,” Adonis pockets the card, “Nice to meet you, Erik, sorry for the way I came off at you earlier, my anger can be a bit out of control,” Adonis lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“A bit? I get this vibe that it’s more than just a bit,” Erik turns to leave, “Don’t hesitate to stop by and get a good work out in! Enjoy the rest of your time here at Comic Con.”

“Will do,” Adonis salutes Erik before turning away and disappearing into the sea of people.

________________________________________________________

Elite Body Edge is designed with the purpose of building strong foundations by balancing flexibility, mobility, strength, conditioning and nutrition as well as giving you the perfect sculpt to turn heads; because a strong and sculpted foundation makes a power house. With an arsenal of knowledge, from competition preparation to rehabilitation to strength and conditioning, Elite Body Edge can design a program for any body habitus to achieve any fitness goal. They offer one-on-one training, group sessions and accountability programs to best fit your needs. Why train with Elite Body Edge? No contracts with affordable month-to-month membership, a safe environment to learn proper technique from experienced trainers, a flexible schedule with a variety of group classes to fit your schedule, and an encouraging atmosphere to make working out fun.

Elite Body Edge is a high-end gym experience. Some of the club amenities include, locker rooms complete with sauna and massage chairs, rooftop deck, group fitness classes, premium strength and cardio equipment including LifeFitness, HammerStrength, Precor, and Star Trac, and an amazing aquatic area for swim-fitness. Some of the classes include Restorative Yoga, H.E.A.T Camp, TRX, Feel Fit Naked, Boxing, Self defense, Spin, H.I.I.T, Yogalates, Circuit Burn, and many more. It’s located at 8053 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA. It’s striking architecture was designed by National Design Award winner Ian Jackson of Studio Sofield. It’s 30-foot video wall for virtual-reality cycle classes is exceedingly popular, and it’s soaring 25-foot ceilings supported by illuminated linear columns and over 40,000 square feet of state-of-the-art equipment, Elite Body Edge is a modern-day escape straight out of a sci-fi film. 

Erik is no stranger to the gym. Over the years he has received multiple certifications in performance enhancement, TRX Suspension and is a EliteFirst Certified Level 1 trainer, which he has employed as a strength and conditioning coach for the nationally recognized Fremont High School Basketball Team which has produced multiple athletes in the NBA. He supports the youth and employs them to stay active and live a healthy lifestyle. The fitness mogul himself was wrapping up a TRX tactical training course. Most of the occupants are military trained or athletes and with Erik’s skills it can keep them performing at the highest level. Sweaty, heart rate spiked, muscles fueled, and a round of applause, Erik puts up one hand with a black training glove to settle the cheers from his hard working pupils. 

“Nah, y’all should be clapping for yourselves,” Erik wipes sweat from the tip of his nose, “You guys did an amazing job today. The shit is tough but I see improvement and progress. We’ll meet at the same time next Wednesday. Remember, get some rest, stay hydrated, and eat a well balanced diet.”

Everyone gathered their things and exited the class. Erik grabs some cleaning solution and a few disposable cloths to wipe down the equipment. Gym playlist on, you wouldn’t be able to keep Erik’s energy down for one second. He’s so amped up that he could go for another training session; work on his hamstrings and calves some more. Satisfied with his cleaning, Erik exits the classroom, the double glass doors closing behind him. The energetic, hip-hop music pumped up his clients to finish their workout sessions. The air circulating the gym masked the usual odor that comes with sweating and his gym staff are very vigilant on keeping the place tidy. His staff wears black workout gear from head to toe with the gym logo on the front. 

As Erik walks through his gym, checking things out, a familiar face catches his eye. Training on an Everlast Powercore Dual bag with a speed bag attachment is the eye-candy from Comic Con just a week prior. He’s shirtless with a blue Adidas face mask on and fingerless black MMA gloves. His gym shorts hung low on his hips and his feet danced back and forth in his Speed-Flex boxing shoes in time with his fierce punches. Erik wondered when he became a member. He didn’t expect for Adonis to even take up the offer on joining the gym. Smirking, Erik strolls over towards Adonis at the same time as one of Erik’s pilates trainers, Andrea does. Andrea is wearing a black sports bra with the gym logo and black biker shorts. Her sleek platinum blonde pixie cut made her glistening peanut skin pop. Her dark brown eyes held recognition as well as lust. 

“Donnie?” Andrea says with a sultry voice, “I knew that was you,” Andrea popped her hip out, staring Adonis up and down with a big white smile, “How are you?”

Adonis takes off his face mask, those thick lips extra moist from the perspiration on his skin, “Andrea, w’sup? I’m doing good…” Adonis seemed to be thrown off by her presence. From the way he looked at her with his chocolate eyes, they must have had an interesting relationship. Erik took note of the way Adonis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and Andrea licked her lips and touched his arm with her fingertips. 

“Why don’t you come and see me anymore? We used to have a good ass time...what happened with that? Got tired of me?” Andrea says with a single brow raised.

“I’ve been busy,” Adonis looked away awkwardly, the fresh scar above his right brow catching Andrea’s attention. 

“Busy getting into a brawl? What’s that scar about?” 

“You know me…” Adonis turned away, “Can’t pass up a good fight.”

Andrea didn’t hide her sexual appetite for Adonis from the way her eyes swept over his body, silently telling him how his ripped physique turned her on. Just when she allowed her eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch, Erik was there next to her, the form-fitting Under Armor short sleeve grey top he wore drenched and molding with his well-built curves straining against the fabric. Two sexy men with twin facial features that made her drool like a love-sick dog. 

“Didn’t think you would show up,” Erik held his hand out to shake Adonis’ hand, “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s dope, I love the set up, I especially enjoy this boxing section...I mean, you have everything I need to help me train.” 

“Where were you training before?” Erik asked.

“Delphi Boxing Academy, but I need more free roam, too many new people to train.” Adonis replies. 

“...so, you know Andrea?” Erik looks over at her, her peanut colored skin immediately turning red and the top row of her teeth chewing on her pouty, pink bottom lip nervously. 

“Yeah, we got history,” Adonis cracks a smile, “Maybe I should catch one of your Pilates classes...watch you do that seated toe touch.” 

Erik arched a single thick brow at Adonis’ words. It wasn’t directed towards him but the seductive way he said that had a pool of desire filling the pit of his stomach. Erik knows exactly how that seated toe touch looked. Seated on the floor, knees drawn towards your chest, feet in the air and toes pointed to the sky, a complete view of a woman’s phat pussy or a man’s hefty bulge straining against the fabric of their stretchy leggings or shorts. Erik enjoys fucking a woman with a malleable body just as much as Adonis does it seems. He wouldn’t mind seeing how malleable Adonis can be.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” Andrea gives Adonis one final look up and down before walking away, “my number is still the same.” 

Adonis watches Andrea walk away, “you got a good selection on your staff, bruh.”

“Yup,” Erik agrees, head tilted to the side, dreads shifting across his forehead before he grins, baring his teeth, “gotta have options, a pretty face brings guests, it’s all business.” 

“Well, I admire your business. The dedication and strive to pull something like this together is inspirational. I put my membership in a day ago and was trying to meet with you for a personal tour but your front desk staff said you were out for the day.” Adonis says. 

“Yeah, I’m also a Biological Science Lab Tech two days a week pulling twelve hour shifts.”

“Damn, how the hell do you function?” Adonis says with a shocked voice. 

“You gotta love what you do. You should know, with your own fight club and all, living a double life...working a regular 9-5 during the day I’m guessing?”  Erik says with curious eyes. 

“I’m a Senior Trading Analyst for Smith Boardley Financial Group so, yeah, it’s like living a double life. They don’t ask questions though, which is good.” Adonis’ face shows annoyance as if he didn’t want to talk about his job. Erik senses that maybe Adonis isn’t satisfied with his daytime life, that he feels more free at night and in the ring. He hardly even knew this guy and yet he wanted to know every little detail; ask him questions. He has so many layers to fold back, and besides his reasons behind fighting, Erik hopes to make Adonis admit to his attraction to him. Only thing is, Adonis has to believe it. He’s still uncertain and confused. 

“Why do you fight?”

Silence settles between them for a short while before Adonis finally speaks. 

“Freedom mainly. I want to stop controlling everything and just let go,” Adonis closes his eyes briefly, “if it’s not working out for me...I need to find something that doesn’t...something that doesn’t define me as this perfect dude with a perfect job, and all this fucking money. The things you own end up owning you. The people around you can drag you down. When I fight, I lose control. I’ve been taught at a very young age to bottle up my aggression but all I wanna do is use my hands and to experience some feeling in this numb world...this ‘cocooned society’.” 

“So it’s not about the violence for you? I can understand that. I guess working out is a release for me...that’s an interesting method that I support,” Erik’s eyes scan Adonis’ body, taking a step back so he can blatantly check him out, “I wanna know how this fight club operates...you think I can come watch?” 

Adonis lets go of a laugh, his dimples flashing, “Yeah, man, you can come watch. I’m gonna warn you now though, it can get pretty graphic.”

“Blood? Broken teeth? Nasty scars? That shit don’t phase me,” Erik smiles, allowing his eyes to drop over Adonis’ body. Adonis leans down to grab his water bottle, taking a sip of it and completely avoiding Erik’s unwavering eyes. Why were those eyes making Adonis’ nerves spike up with excitement. It disgruntled him and had Adonis frowning from the feeling. 

“Listen, just don’t be late,” Adonis spoke with finality, placing his face mask back on, “Can’t have people wandering in at the last minute. Come by tomorrow night around 10.” 

Adonis’ change in demeanor has Erik chuckling. He has a habit of wearing his emotions on his face. 

“Will do, bro. Catch you tomorrow...champ,” Erik jeers before leaving Adonis to his training. 

____________________________________________________________

Going Underground Records was Erik’s destination for the late evening. Founded in 2001, Bakersfield's Going Underground Records is Central California's largest and longest running vinyl record store and has recently expanded with a new brick-and-mortar location in Los Angeles. They buy, sell, and trade LPs, 45s, stereo equipment, local concert promotional items (posters, flyers, one-off recordings, etc.) and more. They purchase collections of all sizes, so whether you have a handful, or thousands of records to sell, call or stop by any day of the week. They buy daily and travel to you for large collections. It seems completely deserted from the front but Erik’s instructions from Adonis’ text was to go around back through a basement door. Parking his red Audi R8 across the street, Erik puts out his weed, leaving it in his car. Opening the door, Erik’s left foot hits the wet street. 

Fully out of his car, Erik closes the door, turning to walk across the street towards the record shop. Erik is wearing a camouflage pullover hoodie with black sweats and white Jordan 1’s with a low cut style. Bringing his hood up to cover his freshly twisted locs, Erik saunters down a narrow alleyway before making a left turn ending directly behind the record shop. As soon as he approached the red stainless steel cellar doors, Erik knocks twice, stepping away just in time as a tall, carob-skinned man with a bald head and a single gold hoop earring dressed in a black bomber jacket with a dark purple T-shirt and dark blue denim jeans opens the cellar doors. He looked at Erik in an angry or threatening way, his bug-eyes practically sizing Erik up like he wasn’t welcome. Erik was expressionless, no signs of fear towards this shaq looking man whatsoever, instead, Erik pockets his hands and clears his throat to speak. 

“I’m here for rebellion.” Erik says. He was told to say this at the door from Adonis’ text after the gym yesterday. Erik stopped him before Adonis took off in his matte black Chevy corvette. They exchanged numbers so that Adonis could text him the address and password for entry into the fight club. 

“Why do you seek rebellion?” The man spoke with a voice as hard as the blade of a shovel. 

“Because of this effeminized society that forces me to live a dull and meaningless life,” Erik says with an even tone. 

“Come in, quick,” The man says, “I’m Damion, the owner of this record shop.”

“Erik,” He shook hands with the man before entering the basement of the record shop through the cellar doors. There are metal shelves filled with boxes and janitorial items. Following Damion, Erik could hear hoots and hollers growing louder and louder within the basement. A black drape ahead separated Erik and Damion from the fight club. When the drape was pulled back, the badly lit room with a boxing ring and a crowd of at least thirty people awaited Erik. The shouts and roars are angry and free in Erik’s ears. It smelled like sweat, liquor, weed, and Vaseline mixed with coagulate. 

There, in the middle of the ring with his fists tightly clenched, black boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and left nose bleeding is Adonis himself. What would be his excuse this time when he went to work the next day? Maybe that he tripped and fell face first, bloodying up his nose. He bares his teeth that are just as bloody as his nose, punching his opponent so hard that they fall to the floor of the ring, his head pinched between the floor of the ring and Adonis’ left knee. Adonis kept slamming his fist into the bridge of his opponents nose——a beefy looking white man with ginger hair and a large leprechaun tattoo on his broad back. He did it again and again in flat hard packing sounds you could hear over all the yelling until the ginger-haired man caught enough breath and sprayed blood to say, stop. Just as those words fell from his lips with difficulty, Adonis stands to his full height, fisting the air with triumph. 

“WHO WANTS NEXT? The night is just getting started!!” Adonis yells, voice like a rising storm, “THE RING IS FREE!”

“I’ll take him on!” A random black guy wearing a FedEx uniform says, pointing to a tall blonde-haired alternative-looking white guy with arm tattoos and nails painted black, “He’s been giving me a dirty look all night, let’s see what your hands are like. I had a long fucking day too,” The FedEx worker removed his hat revealing a clean faded haircut with waves, “Lets go!!! Don’t act scared now!!”

The ginger-haired white man was pulled from the ring, a bloody trail from his face following him. Adonis slid between the ropes and hopped out of the ring, walking through the crowded room until he reached a table with a series of water bottles and towels. Adonis grabs a bottle of water to drink, his grip crushing the plastic bottle before he tosses it away. Erik’s attention was brought back to the ring when the black guy kicked the air out of the alternative white guy then landed on him pounding him limp. The white guy clawed his neck for him to stop and that’s when he backed off with a viscous laugh. The blonde took this opportunity to give him a taste of his medicine. His left fist connected with the black guy's face, spit flying from between his full lips. 

Yeah! Yeah! Kick his ass! 

It was like a raging storm in that room. Erik walks further into the room, bumping shoulders accidentally with a wild amped up Al Pacino look alike with slicked back hair and what looked to be a waiter’s uniform on. These men came all the way here from their boring jobs to relieve some tension. Erik took his spot in a corner, his commanding yet piercing eyes scanning the room. He sought out Adonis again, finding him shouting into the ring. Erik was standing under one of only several lights in the after-midnight blackness of a basement full of men. In the ring two new guys are fighting. One of the men has his opponent's arms behind his head in a full nelson and rammed his face into the ring floor until his teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek. He kept going, even when the guy yelled stop. Adonis jumped into the ring, yanking the guy away and earning a right hook to his face. Erik hisses before grabbing his own jaw as if he could feel it. 

“WHAT ARE THE FUCKING RULES, HUH?!” Adonis head butts him, knocking the guy to the floor before looking down on him with vengeful eyes, “WHEN THEY YELL STOP! YOU FUCKING STOP! Get up,” Adonis throws up his fists, “I said get the fuck up!”

Yeah Adonis! Teach him a lesson!

Body glistening from sweat and muscles perfectly sculpted as if they were carved out of limestone, Adonis beats this man down with just his fists, no special combo move like he’s some wrestler. The guy had enough, throwing his hands up in surrender. Adonis smiles with his blood stained teeth. There’s grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn’t about looking good. There’s hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, except this isn’t a holy sanctuary like your grandmother would drag you to every Sunday morning to praise and worship. Erik briefly wondered who is responsible for mopping up the blood and sweat from the ring floor after all of this is over. Just standing there watching has his adrenaline spiked. Adonis raises his head towards the ceiling before opening his eyes, the low light making the blood on his face glisten. 

His chocolate eyes scanned the room and when they landed on Erik he seemed to freeze with shock but then a knowing smile appeared on his face. Erik returned the same smile bobbing his head in greeting. Adonis left the ring and squeezed through the small crowd of men before finally coming face to face with Erik. Erik’s eyes sparked as they quickly swept Adonis’ drenched body. He had to suck in a quick breath to calm the pulse coming from his dick. All this charged up, aggressive energy is what Erik craves every time he fucks a man. That fighting back before surrendering to him when all his fat dick enters them. Adonis looked like the type to fight back, Erik really wanted to see that for himself. He hoped it would be sooner rather than later. 

“Looks like underground street fights are a new favorite of mines,” Erik chuckled. 

The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled as he smiled, “Didn’t think you would really show up.”

“I’m not all bark and no bite, bruh. When I say I’m gonna be somewhere, I make it happen. Anyway, I ain’t never seen shit like this so I wasn’t about to pass that up,” Erik’s lashes fluttered and his tongue glided across his bottom lip, his gold slugs twinkling in the low light like diamonds. Adonis’ brows knitted and his eyes fell to Erik’s lips. He caught himself staring and backed away, scratching the tip of his nose and taking a deep breath, his pectorals dancing one at a time. Erik’s eyes flickered with mischief and he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I broke the code inviting you here, you know that?” Adonis looks around, “I’m surprised nobody called you out to fight them. When that happens, you have to fight. That’s the rules.” 

“I don’t abide by rules easily,” Erik’s eyes are ablaze but his voice is like melted honey, “And clearly neither do you. I do my own thing. Is there some contract you have to sign to be involved in this shit?”

“First thirty names on the list get in, if you get in, you set up your fight right away, if you want to fight. If not, there are guys that do so maybe you should stay home.” Adonis points to his left brow, “A couple of stitches fixed this, some of these guys leave here with injuries so bad they need a bed in the hospital...It ain’t for everybody.” 

“But yet here they are getting their asses handed to em’,” Erik shakes his head, “Looks like you need a drink.” 

“I do, I was actually headed to the bar around the corner after this,” Adonis lifted a single brow as his eyes peered into Erik’s, “You’re welcome to join me if you want...I can tell you more about the fight club...looks like you’re interested in joining.” 

“Maybe,” Erik surveyed Adonis’ face, “We could get to know each other a little? You know, I feel like you’re a cool dude, wouldn’t mind kickin’ it over drinks.” 

“I don’t see why not,” Adonis gives Erik a quizzical look before backing away, “Meet me at The Spare Room around the corner from here.” 

Erik chuckles as he watches Adonis back away, stroking the length of his beard while he takes in the vibe of Adonis’ body language, “Aight, I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.” 

_____________________________________________________________

“I ordered for you if that’s cool? Whiskey.” 

Adonis is sporting a black and grey Nike zip-up hoodie with matching track pants and black AirMax on his feet. He settles next to Erik at the bar before drumming his fingers nervously on the polished wood of the bar countertop. The bartender serves them two glass tumblers filled with whiskey and a black cocktail straw. Erik removes his straw and drinks straight from the rim of his glass. Adonis stirs the ice in his glass around before taking a hefty sip over the rim as well. 

“What are you going to tell your job tomorrow about that purple bruise under your eye and that bloody nose? You tripped and hit your face against a brick wall?” Erik cracks a smile.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Adonis touches the bruise under his eye, wincing a bit, “That punch was brutal.” 

“I felt that shit myself. Damn, he got your ass good.” 

“And I got his ass right back,” Adonis proclaimed. 

Erik finishes his drink before calling on the bartender for more.

“After a fight I usually get some pussy to calm me down but good pussy is hard to come by these days,” Adonis stretches his back, “I ain’t been in good pussy in a minute…”

Erik’s jaw clenched at the way Adonis said pussy. He glanced over at Adonis, watching him drink from his glass. 

“Shoot Andrea a text, maybe she’ll stop by and give you that pussy you’ve been craving,” Erik motions for 

Adonis to pick up his phone, “The night is still young, ain’t too late to get in that puss...ain’t never too late.”

Adonis arched a single brow at Erik, “...You fuck her?”

“She yours?” Erik twirled his glass while studying his drink.

“Nah, she’s not...but did you hit?”

Erik bites his bottom lip, “Once, around the time I first hired her. She got it.”

“I know, I been it before,” Adonis shakes his head, “You fuck all the women on your staff?” 

“Yeah, if they want this fat dick.” 

Adonis stirred in his seat, “Another round, homie.”

The bartender fills his glass, the liquid sloshing around the only sound between them until the bartender walks away. 

“You mad I dipped into Drea?” Erik asks casually.

“Can’t be mad at that. She’s not mine...remember?” 

“I got this feeling that if she was yours...you would use this bar top to crack my head open,” Erik flashes Adonis a dimpled smile, “That’s if you can though.” 

“You talk like you would want that,” Adonis squinted his eyes. 

“I like aggression,” Erik says with a hushed tone. Adonis looked away, pondering Erik’s words. He couldn’t explain it but the way he said that felt as if he were flirting with him. Adonis pulls his phone out of his pocket at that exact moment to find Andrea’s number. He shoots her a quick you up text before returning to his drink. 

“You from around here,” Adonis asked to clear the growing tension. It only worked a little. 

“South Central. You?” 

“Crenshaw up until the age of twelve, in and out of Juvie until my dad's wife found me…”

“Your mom wasn’t around?” Erik asked.

“She died when I was ten. Never knew my dad until his wife took me in...from there I moved to Tarzana to live in this mansion. My whole life changed. Found out who my pops was too. Apollo Creed.” 

“Shit...you serious?” Erik’s eyebrows disappeared behind his dreads, “Bro...that’s WILD...why didn’t you follow in your father's footsteps?”

“I didn’t want to be known as Apollo Creed’s son and expected to be the next Creed star. I wanted to do my own thing, you know? That pro boxer shit didn’t stroke my curiosity. All the fame, all the attention. Nah, underground street fighting is my thing.”

“I’m sure your old man would be proud either way though, you’re a hot head just like him.” 

Adonis smirks, “That’s what I’ve been told.” 

“I know mine would be proud of me...lost him to the streets back in 92’ when the riots were going on. He was an activist like my momma. He protected me from getting shot on my tricycle. It humbled me...Still got my momma. She moved back to New Orleans two years ago.”

“Those riots were crazy. I’m sorry about your father...shit is tough.” 

Erik sighs, “It is, but it just reminds me of how lucky I am to have him as a father. Made me the man I am today.” 

“Yeah...I got nothing but love for my dad even though I never met him. Took me a while to get here though, it wasn’t a walk in the park. Got siblings I didn’t connect with in the beginning but now we’re tight. Mary Anne...that’s my step-mom’s name, she didn’t have to raise me, could have left me in the system.”

“What was your real mom’s name?”

“Vivica. She was an aspiring model. My dad met her at some Hollywood party. They slept around for a while but then Mary Anne found out so he ended things. My mom got pregnant, kept the pregnancy a secret until she passed from a brain aneurysm. By then my pops was already gone. Mary Anne found out and raised me.”

“Man,” Erik dragged his hand down his face, “This whole conversation turned heavy so quick. Let’s fill up these glasses, we need more liquor.”

“I second that.”

The bartender gladly refilled their glasses. For a little while longer, Erik and Adonis talked, learning more about each other. They argued about their favorite Anime, the best clubs in LA, and other random shit that had them laughing. They had only met about six days ago and they talked like old friends catching up. Adonis asks for a bottle of water since he has to drive. The bartender brings him his bottle at the precise moment that his phone buzzes. Picking up his phone, Adonis unlocks it to find a text with an image attached from Andrea. Opening the text, Adonis’ eyes became stormy with lust and his bottom lip poked out with need. 

“Goddamn,” He muttered. Andrea always knew how to get him worked up. She’s on the floor naked with her legs spread wide in front of her floor mirror, peanut skin glistening from whatever body oil she used and that phat, creamy pussy with all her glistening pink spread open and freshly waxed for him to come play with. He remembers how sweet she tastes. Adonis’ tongue rolled around his teeth before forcing his eyes away, locking the phone and placing it within his pocket. He was about to be all up in that pussy. 

“Andrea?” Erik says with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah...she really miss me,” Adonis retrieves his wallet from his pocket, “I can cover the drinks—“

“It’s already on my tab, bruh. Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and handle your business.” 

“You ain’t have to do that, Erik,” Adonis stands from his stool.”

“Think of it as a victory drink for the champion of underground street fighting,” Erik held up his glass to Adonis before knocking back the rest of the contents. 

“I hope that’s your last drink, your eyes are so fucking low.” 

“It is, I gotta get home, I’m pretty tired,” Erik tells the bartender to close his tab before standing from his seat. He dabs Adonis, bringing him in for a brief bro hug, pulling away so that his cologne wouldn’t have his dick brushing up against his. He didn’t need that to happen so soon. 

“I’ll holla at you, Erik,” Adonis turns to leave the bar. 

Erik watches him exit before short, heated breaths escaped his mouth. Erik signs his receipt before leaving himself. While walking to the car, Erik pulls his phone from his hoodie pocket, scrolling through his messages, and finding the person he was looking for. 

Erik: Still on for tomorrow night with you and hubby?

Jodie: Absolutely💕 we’ll see you tomorrow night! Can’t wait 😘

______________________________________________________________

Andrea has an apartment at the Madison Toluca in North Hollywood, CA. It’s a three bedroom, two bathroom apartment with a black, red, and white color scheme. Adonis arrived shortly after 12:30 AM and knocked on her door. Her All black Yorkipoo—-a mixed breed of a Yorkshire terrier and a poodle, named Cookie was barking at the door when he knocked. Andrea could be heard yelling at Cookie before opening her door. Andrea beamed at Adonis with her big round eyes bewitching and her smile wide and pretty. She was wearing a teal blue Nike sports bra with a pair of black high crotch panties and bare feet. Her platinum blonde pixie cut is wet and slicked back from her shower and her peanut skin still glowed from the oil on her body. 

“I didn’t get a response from you so I didn’t think you would show up,” Andrea stepped to the side to allow Adonis entry, “What made you text me tonight to see if I was up?”

“You know how I get after a fight.”

 Adonis closed the space between them and grabbed the back of Andrea’s neck, tilting her head back enough to have her back bending before his thick tongue slithered up her neck and to her lips for a kiss. Adonis always itched for sex after a fight. His dick on swole and his hands unexcused Adonis cuffed Andrea’s ass, damn near pulling her from the ground. They continued to kiss, suck, and lick all over each other’s mouth to savor the taste. 

“Damn, got my dick heavy right now, girl,” Adonis squeezes Andrea’s ass, “come on, I want that pretty pussy.” 

“Donnie,” Andrea moaned, voice as pure and sweet as if from heaven, “I miss the way you used to fuck me.” 

“Uh-huh?” Adonis lifts Andrea off her feet, wrapping her legs around him, “How I used to fuck you?” 

“So good baby,” Andrea thumbed Adonis’ pouty bottom lip before peppering light kisses along them, “I miss your lips on my pussy too.” 

“I can’t wait to taste it again, is she still nice and creamy?”

“Always, daddy,” Andrea’s body shook with anticipation in his arms, “Damn...I’m shaking.” 

“It’s because you need this just as much as I do.” 

“I miss your big dick stuffing me,” Andrea dragged her kisses down Adonis’ neck. 

“You miss the way daddy used to give it to you?”

“Ooh, yes—“ 

“I’ma tear you up, Drea.” 

Adonis brought Andrea to her bedroom, flopping down with her straddling his lap. Andrea giggles like she always does while Adonis kisses along her neck and tongues her cleavage. Andrea’s breath is coming out shallow and fast. Adonis grabbed her face, making her look at him. 

“Breathe,” Adonis pecked her nose, “This dick ain’t going nowhere,” Adonis smirked, “It’s all for you, girl.”

“This my dick?” Andrea leans back so that she could grab for Adonis’ crotch, “It’s so goddamn thick goddamn baby.”

“I’m tryna make you cream all over it.”

Adonis was in an intense tongue-lock with Andrea while she stroked him through his track pants. She broke the kiss with a trail of spit before lifting from Adonis’ lap and dropping to her knees. A constant hiss escaped her mouth as she fumbled with his track pants. Discovering his waistband, Andrea pulls his pants and briefs down and around his ankles. That fat, long, swinging dick almost hit her in the face. Andrea grabs it before putting it right in her mouth where it belongs. While Andrea Gluck-Glucked Adonis removed his hoodie and the black T-shirt beneath it. 

“I just wanna fuck your face and eat your pussy until you can’t take it anymore,” Adonis tilted his head back, “Drea, fuck.” 

Adonis curses under his breath when Andrea gave his heavy balls some attention before bringing her lips back to that fat tip. Adonis dragged his fingers through her wet, short platinum blonde strands before palming the back of her neck and forcing more dick into her mouth. The loud slurping was something Adonis missed heavily. His hips were practically off of the bed now, lip between his teeth and eyebrows knitted together. 

“I miss this fucking mouth,” Adonis fucked Andrea’s mouth, “Shit, Drea, you still got it girl, this mouth is still a beast.” 

Andrea smirked before stroking his spit covered dick while sucking the tip. She really missed his dick from the way she was eating it up. Adonis wasn’t about to stop her, he simply widened his legs and laid back on his elbows. 

“You finna have a nigga bust,” Adonis’ abdomen flexed, “I needed this so fucking bad, make me bust, girl.” 

The eye contact she was giving him had Adonis balls so full with his tasty cum. 

“Just loving on me,” He says before chewing on his bottom lip, “Mmhmmm,” his eyes closed and his brows pressed together tightly. 

Andrea planted her hands on the bed and started bobbing her head up and down his dick while moving her head in a circular motion. 

“Slow down...yes, yes, like that,” Adonis’ lips parted. 

He could literally feel the corners of the inside of Andrea’s mouth and her tight pouty lips nice and steady on his dick. She manipulated that muscular organ in her mouth to flick back and forth on the base of his dick and his balls each time she went down. 

“Love on my dick, babygirl, Drea I’m about to bust, you ready?” Adonis’ eyes squeezed shut and he completely fell back against the bed, “good girl slurp all that shit up oh my fucking God,” Adonis exploded in Andrea’s mouth damn near making her choke. 

“Get up here,” He says, picking Andrea up and bringing her on the bed. Andrea was on her knees, shaking her slim thick booty in his face, her pussy wide with anticipation. Her cream made a mess of her pussy and it was begging to be licked up. Adonis smacks each ass cheek before giving both of them a nice, appreciative kiss. His lips tickled and they felt so moist against Andrea’s skin. She widened her thighs and arched her back more, practically pushing her pussy into Adonis’ face for him. 

“You shoving this beautiful pussy in my face?”

Andrea nods her head with a bite of her lip. Adonis turns around, laying his head between Andrea’s thighs before wrapping one arm around her waist with the other hand occupied with jerking his fat pole. Andrea sat on his face fully before grinding Adonis’ lips. He leans forward to place his lips on her pussy, serving her tongue with long trails of spit. The wiggle of his wet tongue had her lifting up on her hands, thighs shaking. Adonis takes both of his thumbs, peeling her open.

His damn tongue.

“Ooh, yes, Donnie.” 

Her entire body shivered.

Adonis’ tongue was dripping with spit and warm against her inner folds. He was in the middle of spelling out his name with the tip of his tongue all up and down her slit. With the D Andrea’s body shivered. With the O she started shuddering in breaths of gasping completion. With the two N’s Andrea clawed the bed. The letter I made a shape over her clit at the right angle. After the E He sucked her pussy into his mouth. 

“When you lick me you never miss a spot,” She said with a voice like the harmony of angles. Adonis lapped at her pussy some more in response to her words, “Donnie, please don’t stop, baby...I’m gonna cum, Donnie keep doing that to me.” 

Adonis gave her sloppy suction kisses down to her entrance and back up to her clit, keeping her lips apart so he could really get inside. He repeated and repeated, slurping and sucking and licking and kissing. He went faster and faster and she bucked her hips into his mouth, cries getting louder and louder.

“Mmmm, yes, do it like that,” Andrea said with a sensual voice. 

“How bad do you want to cum?” Adonis said before he slurped on her clit and her labia at the same time, moaning himself feeling his precum wet his fingers.

 “Really bad daddy...I wanna cum so fucking bad from your dirty mouth...make me scream.”

“Fuck. You may be a sweetheart but you a freak for sure.” 

Adonis concentrates on tonguing and sucking all the spots that have Andrea’s hips bucking and her pussy smothering him. 

“Daddy...guess what?” Andrea’s eyes watered and heat crept up her body. 

“Uh-huh, I got that pussy cumming?” Adonis’ words are muffled with the way his lips trailed all over Andrea’s pussy. 

With that Andrea’s body froze as her orgasm washed over her. Remembering how good Adonis ate her pussy wasn’t enough for her. Now she was experiencing it again while sitting on his face. He was going for round two from what it felt like. He kept saying over and over how much he needed her beautiful phat pussy and how he was going to dick her down just like that with her back arched. Andrea was ready to crawl off of him when her second orgasm hit her. She squealed so loud her throat went raw. Satisfied, Adonis resurfaced, his lips and freshly shaved chin glistening from her juicy folds. 

“Come taste how sweet you are.” 

Andrea turns, wrapping her arms around Adonis’ shoulders before licking his lips. She hummed with satisfaction while pulling him down on top of her body. 

“Pussy is gushy baby,” Adonis held all his body weight up on one hand while the other played with Andrea’s folds, “That pussy just needs me in it...I could tell from how your eyes lit up when you saw me… miss the way I bust this tight kitty open...I wanna stick my dick so deep in it.”

Adonis leans down on his elbow to kiss Andrea again while he rubbed her clit. His dick is like a swinging pendulum between his legs right now, desperate and hard for Andrea’s pussy. Adonis has enough of teasing Andrea with how fast his heart beats and how painfully hard he is. Grabbing his dick, mixing the wetness on his fingers from her pussy on his pre-cum laden dick, Adonis lined up with Andrea’s pussy before thrusting in slowly, widening her thighs at the same time. Adonis groaned when he was fully inside, making sure to watch her face so that he could see all of her expressions. 

“Ahhh, yes, that’s it.” 

Adonis’ muscular body was mesmerizing from that angle. He began to roll his hips, working all that girth and length in and out of Andrea. Adonis felt Andrea’s pussy squeeze his dick and it only made him go harder. Adonis pulls Andrea’s sports bra off, her perky breasts with dark brown nipples reminding him of Hershey kisses blessing his eyes. Adonis sucked on each titty while he strokes her pussy. The double sensation has Andrea creamy and the macaroni and cheese sound of her pussy grew louder and louder between them. 

“You taking this dick just like you used to,” Adonis pushes her thighs back, “Fuck all that moaning call me daddy while I’m in it.” 

“Daddy,” Andrea whispered. 

“Look at it Drea,” Adonis whispered back. 

Andrea’s eyes traveled down the length of Adonis’ magnificent body to his long, thick dick spreading her open. She couldn’t put into words how full she felt. 

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Adonis whispered, “This how Erik fucked this pussy?”

Andrea’s eyes flicked up to Adonis’ face quickly. She went red with embarrassment, ragged gasps leaving her mouth. 

“What? Answer the question,” Adonis pushed his dick all the way in. Andrea could feel it tickle her navel. 

“Yessssssss,” Andrea answered with an uneven breath. 

“He fuck this pussy in your bed, Drea?” Adonis’ hips were smacking into the back of her thighs, “What he do, girl?”

“He-he fu-fucked me in my b-bed,” Andrea stuttered. Adonis heard himself grunt at her response. Had he ever gotten off on another man fucking the same chick as him? No. Probably wouldn’t have cared in the past but for some reason, knowing that Erik hit Drea too has him harder than he was seconds ago.

“You call him daddy?” 

“Yes!!! Donnie, baby, it’s so much dick,” Andrea’s face frowned with ecstasy.

“And this pussy is good so you’re getting all this dick, baby,” Adonis reaches up to grab onto Andrea’s headboard and she knows what that means. Andrea held onto his waist with a death grip to prepare herself. Adonis started descending his dick all at once in Andrea’s pussy. No pause, no warning, just nothing but a fat dick with all its length sinking into her drenched pussy fluently. It felt like she wasn’t in control of her body anymore. 

“Donnie, please please please,” Her mouth opened, no words escaping. 

“Did he call you his nasty little girl?” Adonis says with a voice so gruff and guttural. He looked down at his dick working the hell out of Andrea’s pussy. The muscles in his back and arms burned in a good way. He was tearing Andrea up from this angle, “Got me going crazy in this pussy...I needed this pussy.” 

“Daddy, daddy I’m gonna squirt,” Andrea’s toes curled. Her body didn’t feel like it belonged to her anymore with the way Adonis was taking her pussy. Andrea trembled while her pussy leaked it’s sweet juices all over his dick. 

“Got that pussy cumming?!! You ain’t answer my question...he calls you his nasty little girl?” 

“No,” she spoke faintly, “He called me his nasty little bitch.” 

Adonis bit down on his lip hard. He pumped her fast a few more times before withdrawing from her tightness, flipping her over and arching her back deep. 

“Nasty little bitch? Huh? You like that name?” Adonis sounded harsh, “Keep that ass up Drea, come on baby...I got something for you.” 

“DADDY!!” Andrea wasn’t prepared for that big surprise just now. Adonis has both of his large hands on her waist while he plowed her. She never had this rough amount of treatment from him. 

“Daddy, shit,” her shoulders fell forward against the bed. High-pitched moans filled the room and her cheeks smacking and ricocheting off of Adonis’ rock hard hips was stinging her flesh. He was hostile and she loved the change. Sure, Adonis’ much gentle side was always just as good but to see him use her body the way he was it had her squirting and she never experienced squirting while having sex with him. She needed more of this. 

“Throw it back, Drea, keep going, baby,” Adonis watched her struggle. It didn’t matter to him, his big dick was nice and wet. 

“Nasty little girl, huh?” 

“Yes,” Her breath was rattled. 

“Come on and make this dick cum.” Adonis grabbed her hips, forcing her back to take all his length. Andrea screamed.

“That’s how you do it, so do it, girl, I’m not showing you again,” Adonis watched her do it right this time with a smirk, “That’s my nasty little girl… take this dick...keep taking this dick.”

“Daddy-“

“Why is this lil’ pussy so fat? Damn,” Adonis felt his nut sack jump, “Look at this beautiful, fat pussy, go ahead and cum Drea, go ahead baby.” 

“Yes, daddy, Unh!!!!!” 

Andrea slows down, Adonis taking over again, giving it to her and moaning the closer he got to cumming. 

“That pretty pussy, fuck, take this nut girl,” Adonis’ words were stuck in his throat the second he let off in her pussy with his thick cum. Thank God she was taking contraceptives because she would be pregnant with all his damn babies with how thick and heavy his load is. Adonis retracted his hips, dick sliding out and his cum dripping from Andrea’s gaping entrance. His dick left a serious imprint with how much wider her slick hole is. 

“Damn,” Andrea’s body turned over, “That was some kind of fucking,” she giggles, wiping sweat from her face, “What’s gotten into you, Donnie? baby, you were wild in this pussy tonight.” 

“Lack of pussy does that to you,” Adonis stood from the bed, stretching out his back muscles. Andrea tilted her head while staring at his dick. 

“Round two?” Andrea begged. 

Adonis sighed, “I need some water first.” 

“How do you know Erik anyway?” 

Adonis shrugged, “Comic Con. It was a random situation. He gave me his business card and that’s how I ended up at his gym.” 

Andrea gave Adonis a playful smile, “Are you mad that I fucked him? It was only once, Adonis.” 

“Nah, I’m not mad,” Adonis gave Andrea a once-over with his chocolate eyes, “But you liked that I brought it up...that pussy was choking my dick.” 

“I did. Maybe we should have a threesome. I would love it if you both fucked me.” 

Adonis felt his chest grow tight from her words. His face twisted up with confusion at the feeling. Was that...anticipation? Nervous excitement? 

“Maybe, you should get on all fours again so I can come back and get some more of that pussy,” Adonis responded before leaving her room to grab them both some water. 

_____________________________________________________________

Parked on a hill on Valley Ridge Ave. in View Park, CA,

Erik pulled out his phone to remind himself of the address. 4515. DVSN- Still Pray for You stopped playing when Erik turned his car off. Air Jordan 3 Retro’s, Khaki cargo pants, white T-shirt, a denim jacket, and layered gold chains was Erik’s outfit for the evening. His dreads are side swept, a few of them falling in his eyes. He slouched slightly in his gait, oozing confidence. The home is an iconic 1930 Spanish Revival with stunning city views, exceptional vintage details, custom modern updates, a large beautiful private yard with a tiered flat grassy area, patio, and an herb garden. Jogging up the steps, Erik knocked on the green door, stepping back before swatting away a moth that lingered near the porch light. 

The door unlocked, Jodie standing before Erik with a glass of red wine in her hand and a long charcoal grey T-shirt dress with a high slit, coffee brown eyes fringed with false lashes and copper skin looking soft and silky. Her lush lips are glossy and her blue-black hair is in a sleek low bun. Erik’s eyes traveled from her toes that are painted a fuchsia pink up her shapely legs, over her poked out hip and up to her heart-shaped face. Sweet notes of apple and apricot wafted from her skin the closer Erik got to her. He leaned down to kiss her glossy lips delicately, his tongue tasting the gloss. Jodie’s oval-shaped pink ombré nail skimmed Erik’s jawline with fascination. 

“Hi,” Jodie said with a pleasant voice. 

“Hey,” Erik whispered back, the suave way he said it causing Jodie to nibble on her lip. 

“Do you want some wine?” Jodie offered. 

“I’ll take some wine,” Erik closes Jodie’s front door, “Where is the party?”

“For now, in the living room.” 

Jodie pointed towards the area in question before walking away with a sway of her extremely thick hips towards the kitchen. Erik found the living room, Jodie’s husband, Vance, seated on the couch, smoking some weed, denim cut-off shorts on, an olive green linen short sleeve button-down shirt with a bandanna print open and revealing his athletic body. The deep brown complexion of his skin looked satiny beneath the living room lights. His chiseled face with sharp cheekbones made him look like a male model and Erik especially loved the nose ring on his broad nose. His full lips smirked at him before taking yet another puff of weed. That fresh fade with glossy waves and perfectly groomed beard has Erik lusting even more. 

Vance spoke with a husky voice, “Erik...glad you came.” 

“Me too...let me hit that.”

Vance shared his weed with Erik. 

“Training TRX on Wednesday next week?” Vance asked. 

“I am. I’m not here to talk about my gym though, you know that,” Erik said, savoring the weed, “I ain’t know you went both ways, Vance.” 

Vance cracked a smile, “Yeah, I’m bisexual. Me and Jodie. We’ve been trying to hook up a threesome with a man for a while and then Jodie said she saw you out a few weeks ago at the Avalon with some dude tonguing him down.”

“A date I met on Tinder, fucked him good that night too,” Erik’s head relaxed against the couch, licking his lips to the memory. 

“I bet you did,” Vance passed the weed, “He takes it well too?”

“He needed to be trained, but I’m good at that..have them coming back for more in no time.” 

“Mm,” Vance’s eyes glossed down to Erik’s crotch where his dick print was visible on his left thigh. Vance shook his head as his breath rushed out. Erik was a big boy. 

“You looking for something?” Erik spoke softly, the sensation of the weed sweeping deeper, “it’s right here,” Erik squeezed his dick, the cargo pants molding around the shape of it, “You want this dick?” Erik’s eyes looked at Vance’s big lips and he just knew those juicy lips would feel fucking fantastic sucking on him. 

“I do, I want that dick.” 

“Put that weed out and come get it, that’s why I’m here right? Get the fuck over here,” Erik takes off his denim jacket, widening his thighs, “That pretty ass mouth you got...I need my dick sucked now…do it slow too.” 

Vance’s hand gripped Erik’s dick through his pants. Erik made it jump against his hand. Vance let out a groan. 

“Come on, boy, my shit is thick right now.” 

Vance went to work on Erik’s pants, pulling them down and around his ankles. He couldn’t wait to satisfy the beautiful massive dick in front of his eyes. Slide that big dick in his hungry mouth and drain his balls. Speaking of balls...they are heavy and soft to the touch. Erik slouched, pulling his T-shirt up to reveal his taut abdomen, defined pectorals, and bulging biceps. His dick was standing up and the veins looked like a work of art on his chocolate pole. 

“From the way you’re looking at it I can tell you’ve been wondering just how big this dick is...right, nigga?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah...it’s here for you and your wife...where is wifey at anyway? Jodie!” Erik called for her.

“I’m here—Ooh,” Jodie sauntered over and placed Erik’s wine on the coffee table. She’s in her purple lace bra and panties set. Jodie dropped to her knees next to Vance. She stared at Erik’s dick in a trance. 

“Let me feel those soft ass lips, Vance,” Erik slapped Vance on the cheek, startling him, “Yeah, you taking too long, baby boy, all this fat dick in front of you. Show your wife how you suck some nut out of the dick.”

“Damn, Erik,” Jodie’s eyes are love-struck. 

Vance gripped Erik’s dick and pumped him nice and steady, making sure to squeeze a little just beneath the tip of his dick so he could watch his pre-cum spill from his slit. Spreading the pre-cum along the sides of Erik’s dick, Vance’s big lips engulfed half of Erik’s dick, bobbing his head while reaching down to gently squeeze his balls. Erik kept his gaze pointed downward, looking from his dick being sucked by Vance and Jodie watching with envious eyes. Jodie has to grab hold of something so she placed her hand over Vance’s erection, his visible erection pressed hard against his denim cut-offs. 

“Two big dicks just for me,” Jodie spoke with excitement. 

“Don’t worry, ma, you’ll have some of this dick in your mouth too, Fuckkkk...yeah, suck that shit...suck that fat dick...oooh, you really wanted this shit, hungry ass nigga...don’t get too greedy your wife need some of that too.”

“Yes I do,” Jodie has Vance’s jeans and briefs down with his dark chocolate dick in her hand, nice and warm. It’s more so long than girthy. She jerked him while watching Vance slurp up Erik. 

“Vance...baby...get that dick,” She whimpered. 

Erik will never get over how good Vance’s lips feel. He thrust his hips, forcing more girth and length into Vance’s greedy mouth. Damn, he can deep throat too. 

“Look at you deep throating this wood, boy. You miss big black dick in your mouth, yeah? Miss a nice pair of heavy balls too? I got a load waiting just for you...all you gotta do is be a good boy…”

Erik’s eyes went so low that his long lashes made them seem like they are closed. Jodie’s hand twisted Vance’s erection and each time Erik’s dick hit the back of Vance’s throat, his dick would jump in Jodie’s hand. She arched her back and brought her lips to Vance’s dick. Jodie wasted no time slurping along Vance’s dick. One look at Jodie’s ass in the air has Erik reaching down, his thick fingers clawing her lace panties and yanking them from her ass in pieces. That action made her lips tighten around Vance’s dick and Vance moaned. 

“How that dick taste Jodie?” Erik asked. 

“Delicious,” She said before slurping Vance up some more. 

“Got that phat ass in the air...I already know that pussy phat with the way it sits in your leggings at the gym…”

“Mmm,” Vance cast his eyes upwards watching as Erik’s toned abdomen is exposed, reaching up to run his hand along the deep ridges of the cut muscle, slurping along his dick. He worked more of Erik into his mouth until his nose touched his trimmed hairs, feeling his length curve down his throat as he took him all the way. 

Jodie was in the middle of gagging on Vance’s dick, her spit staining the carpet the more she tried to swallow him. She reached beneath her, hand finding her creamy pussy before spreading her folds to rub her clit in circles. Erik could hear Jodie’s pussy from his seat on the couch. He groans deep, mouth hanging open from the way Vance was sucking him. He tilts his head to watch Jodie while holding the back of Vance’s head to fuck his throat. 

“FUCK!” Erik let out the curse before gripping Vance’s throat, hips jerking from how purposefully tight Vance’s lips are as his mouth slipped off, “Let Jodie have some.” 

Jodie’s lips popped off of Vance’s dick. Erik gazed at Vance’s dark brown dick. All that dark chocolate. He’s long as fuck too. Ain’t nothing Erik can’t handle down his throat. Too bad tonight was his night to get all the work. Jodie moaned before gripping Erik’s spit covered dick. Her tongue flicked Erik’s dick before she locked eyes with him, batting her false lashes like she’s innocent with all that fat dick in her mouth. 

“Damn, girl, crazy with it,” Erik leaned forward to slap both of Jodie’s cheeks hard, “Got all this hard dick down your pretty little throat...got your Hubby taking off his clothes...you see your wife sucking my dick, Vance? She a dick hungry bitch.” 

Vance is completely naked now. He pumped his long dick while leaning over Erik’s lap to hope for Jodie’s lips to slip off so he could take over again. Jodie lets her throat get fucked, gagging only slightly before fighting it back down, eyes turned up to watch the pleasure on Erik’s face as she feels Erik’s dick stretching out her esophagus. Jodie moans around his length, reveling in the taste of Erik on her tongue.

“Jodie,” Vance calls to her while gently squeezing Erik’s balls, “put his dick in my mouth.”

“You want some more of his hard, thick dick? Here,” Jodie feeds Vance Erik’s dick, “Suck it baby…”

“Husband and wife working together...Jodie...let me see that pussy,” Erik showed her how wide his tongue is. 

Jodie climbed onto the couch, turning with her ass facing Erik before bending over on her knees. Her pussy lips are pushed between her thick thighs. Two slippery lips that he wanted to kiss. 

“Spread your cheeks so I can see all that pink pussy...mmmmm,” Erik hisses, “Pussy creamy as fuck,” Erik licks his fingers before resting them on Jodie’s protruding clit and labia. He loved how smooth and soft she is. It looked like chocolate and from the way she tasted on his fingers it was just as sweet too. 

“Come here,” Erik spoke firmly, slapping Jodie’s ass, “lay on your back and spread your thighs so I can finger fuck you.”

“Unh—“

“I wanna feel how tight this little pussy is.” 

Vance jerks Erik’s dick before slobbering on the tip of his dick, “It’s tight...she’ll grip you.” 

“That’s what I want, right Miss Jodie?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Jodie says with a lick of her lips. 

“There you go, baby boy, suck that fucking dick up, suck daddy’s dick up,” Erik demanded. He could feel his balls grow tight and he knew what that meant. He didn’t want to cum yet, not until he had his dick in Vance’s ass and Jodie’s pussy. 

“Erik,” Jodie called to him with a melodic voice. 

Erik watched her bring her knees to her chest, that pussy wide open and her slippery hole winking at him. Erik couldn’t hold back from rubbing Jodie’s clit back and forth before slapping it, causing her to whimper. Erik smoothed his fingers down her pussy before pushing two fingers inside, biting his lip at the way Jodie gasped. 

“Tight fucking puss,” Erik strokes with a curl of his fingers, “I’m digging baby?”

“Yess,” She cries.

“I hear that pussy,” Vance says with spit hanging from his mouth. 

“Come suck her clit,” Erik commanded. Vance and Erik got down on the floor between Jodie’s thighs. Vance spreads her pussy lips so wide that her labia stretched. Erik was astounded when he saw how much cream spilled from Jodie’s pussy. Vance’s tongue curved at the tip while he teased her big clit. 

“Clit big as fuck, Vance stop playing, suck that shit up. Clit nice and phat like that you better suck it.” 

When Vance’s lips wrapped around Jodie’s clit she moaned to the ceiling. Vance reached up to pull the cups of her bra down, her big, round breasts spilling over, creating a mouthful. Erik damn near drooled. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while his fingers played all in Jodie’s pussy. Vance was slurping loudly on her pussy and it had Erik slapping Vance’s firm ass. 

“Yeah, nigga,” Erik says, “Got the whole puss in your mouth, make this bitch cum...say, I’ma make this pretty pussy cum.” 

“I’ma make this pretty pussy cum,” Vance says before French kissing Jodie’s clit. 

“I’ma make it squirt,” Erik flicked his tongue on Jodie’s nipple before showing some attention to the other. Jodie gripped his dreads when he went back and forth with sucking her nipples. He had her thrusting her chest into his mouth. 

“Grip me like that again, go ahead, ima put my face in your pussy next,” Erik spoke roughly. 

“Eat my pussy up,” Jodie widened her legs, “There’s plenty...slurp me up daddy.” 

“Nasty bitch, I like you,” Erik was face to face with Vance, “Let me see how that clit fit in my mouth.” 

Vance chuckles before giving Erik some room to eat on Jodie. He helped him by keeping her pussy lips open. Erik was still working his fingers, practically stirring all in Jodie’s creamy cavern. Erik kisses Jodie’s clit, the pecks slowly turning into full blown French kisses that has him opening his mouth wide to wrap his lips around her. 

“Mhm,” Erik’s eyes rolled shut.

“Taste good, yeah?” Vance said while extending his neck to kiss Jodie’s lips, “That’s your pussy on my tongue.”

“Mmm, I taste lovely.” 

Erik spits on Jodie’s clit before working his tongue with so much gusto that Jodie and Vance watched with awe. 

“Ooooh, He’s stroking my pussy with those thick fingers...oooh, I’ma squirt…Vance, baby, he’s gonna make me squirt, baby,” Jodie grabbed for the back of the couch. She became spasmodic and Vance had to hold her down and kiss her lips to distract her so Erik can keep going. That bitch was leaking all in Erik’s mouth. He sucked her up again before tasting his fingers. Vance leaned over Jodie’s lap, getting some of Jodie’s pussy too. 

“Pussy is so goddamn good,” Erik gripped Jodie’s jaw, pressing his lips into hers, “I can’t wait to bust your shit wide open, let’s take this shit to the bed.”

Pulling his lips away, Vance stands with Erik, both of them picking Jodie up. She had her legs wrapped around Erik while Vance stood behind her cupping her titties. Erik bounced Jodie on him like he was fucking her standing. Vance kissed and sucked on her neck at the same time. All three of them took their fun to the bedroom. Jodie grabs some condoms from her dresser, begging to watch Erik fuck Vance first while she rode his face. Vance went to lay on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest. Erik was blessed with the sight of Vance’s tight asshole and heavy balls with his dick resting against his toned abdomen. Jodie climbed on top of Vance’s mouth, turning to give Erik the condom and lube. 

Erik spits on Vance’s asshole before sticking his finger inside. With his free hand, Erik jerks Vance’s long dick 

To keep him solid so he could have something beautiful and chocolate to look at while he banged his ass. Jodie was currently popping her pussy on Vance’s tongue, legs in a squat so her pussy could be nice and spread for him to suck up. It was a beautiful sight. Erik almost wanted to bust from that alone. Staring at Vance’s body now made him think about Adonis. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Adonis. Nice big lips, sexy rock-hard body, aggressive and competitive, sexy smile, chocolate eyes all intense at one minute then gentle the next, the way he fights…

“Erik I love the way your finger feels in my ass.” 

Vance’s words broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah? Ain’t shit compared to this dick, boy,” Erik removes his finger, grabbing up the magnum to place on his dick. Rolling it over his glans all the way down to the root, Erik applies a little bit of lube for some extra slip. Bending his knees, Erik forced Vance’s thighs back before slapping the weight of his dick against his ass, sinking inside of his warm, tight ass. 

“Damn boy...damn...ass tight as fuck,” Erik started grinding his hips, “Feel all that thick dick pumping?” 

Jodie looked over her sweaty shoulder and saw Erik’s fat condom covered dick thrusting in and out of Vance’s ass. She felt chills all over her flesh and the sexy moans against her pussy and groans from Erik made her cream even more. Jodie can see Erik and Vance’s muscles ripple and flex with their movement. Jodie turned around so that she could 69 with Vance, grabbing his long dick up and going straight at it with a bob of her head. Vance clapped her cheeks before eating both of her holes. 

“Fuck, that’s what I’m talking about Jodie, eat that dick up,” Erik pushes her head down further, “There you go, deep throat that shit.”

Vance was working his hips to take all of Erik’s dick, Erik caught that, rolling his hips to meet Vance half-way so that his dick could be all up in his ass. 

“Got this nigga working his hips to get all this wood,” Erik bites his lip, “ass is creaming already too.” 

“Mmm, I wanna see,” Jodie jerks Vance’s dick while admiring her husband's creamy asshole grip Erik’s dick, “Vance...baby...he got you creamy, mmmm, Vance.

Vance moaned into Jodie’s pussy with each suck. 

“That’s it baby, make this pussy cum...oooh I feel you tugging on that clit, make me nut baby,” Jodie’s eyes almost crossed, Oh God...Oh God...fuuuuuuckkkkkkk babyyyyyyyyyyy—“

“Face hella sexy when you bust, girl,” Erik wrapped his arms around Vance’s thighs and started ramming his dick deep, big balls slapping against his ass. Vance’s core tightened and it seemed to shoot straight to his dick because now he’s cumming in Jodie’s hand. Jodie licked as much away as she could but he kept on erupting. It was Erik’s pounding deep in that ass that had him making a big mess. 

“Oh shit, Erik, fuck,” Vance stared between Jodie’s thighs at Erik, “Dick is all up my ass——“

“I’m taking this ass?” 

“Yes, daddy.”

Jodie could not stop looking at Erik’s hard dick fucking Vance so good. Erik leaned over Vance, his naked chest and those gold chains hanging over Vance’s body. His dreads hung low and he bit down on his lip, working his hips fast and skillful. Jodie needed that dick in her pussy. 

“Ima nut again,” Vance’s handsome face crumbled, “Fuck, Erik, ima bust—-“

“Yeah, nigga, I’ma make that dick cum while I beat this ass up good.” 

Jodie cupped her pussy and rubbed it up and down to the sight of Vance shooting out yet another thick load. Erik pulled out and rocked back on his heels, watching the way Vance’s ass quivered. There is a creamy puddle beneath his ass. Erik removes the condom, walking to Jodie’s dresser to grab another. Rolling it over his still hard erection, Erik walks up to Jodie picking her up and wrapping her legs around him. Erik sits back on the bed, Jodie over him with his hands cradling her ass.

“It’s time to get in you now...nothing but dick deep in your guts…”

Vance stood up from the bed and jerked his dick watching Jodie grab Erik’s dick herself, squatting over his dick before lowering her hips, that thick dick nothing but a flesh covered pole for her to fuck. Jodie was up on her feet, upper body bending over so she could bounce her hips. Her ass cheeks clapped with each bounce while she fed her pussy some dick. Vance went to lay next to Erik so that he could have a better look at his wife handling Erik’s dick. 

“You see that sexy little pussy taking all this dick?” Erik says to Vance before his eyes zeroed in on Vance’s erection, “Dick long as fuck...tear some ass up with this.” 

Erik started Jerking Vance’s dick.

“Get that dick, ma, nasty ass bitch...got my dick all in that pussy...I bet that ass looks real juicy bouncing…”

“This big ass dick.”

Jodie’s cream coated the condom.

“Good dick…” She moaned, “mmmmm, some good fucking dick...so thick...Unh, so good.”

“She’s loving that,” Vance says before grunting from Erik’s thumb stroking his tip, “I love that fat dick too.”

“I know you do, baby boy,” Erik gives Vance a sexy smirk. 

Erik liked the feel of Vance’s dick in his hand but he couldn’t stop wondering how Adonis’ would feel against his palm. Is it thick with a little bit of curve? Does it have length to it for Erik to deep throat? Is it soft to the touch yet textured from his thick veins? He couldn’t shake it. He let go of Vance’s dick and grabbed Jodie’s ankles, picking his hips off the bed and serving her more dick. He didn’t let up on his strokes, knocking the wind out of her chest and making her shout. Vance took over with jerking his dick while his eyes focused on Erik’s powerful hips. 

“KEEP FUCKING ME!” 

“Make her cum, Erik...Make that pussy cum,” Vance said.

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Erik gritted his teeth, “cum on this dick, bitch...get you some of this dick...she about her business look at her,” Erik and Vance watched Jodie work her hips on his dick, “bounce that shit.”

“Hell yeah, I love watching that big dick pound her pussy,” Vance leans over to tongue Erik’s neck. Erik gripped his chin and flicked tongues with Vance. He broke away from him to moan out. His balls contracted rhythmically with his dick and that was a sign that he was ready to pump his fat load all over their faces. 

“Get down on your knees, both of y’all, hurry up, fuck, I gotta bust!”

Vance and Jodie are on their knees and Erik stands before them, snatching his condom off before fisting his dick. All of that cum squeezed out from his heavy sack all over Vance and Jodie’s face, mouth, and wiggling tongue. 

“Clean this dick up,” Erik spoke with a gruff tone. Both of their tongues battled for a taste. The feeling of two sets of lips on his dick made more cum dribble. Vance took over and sucked him, Erik pulling his dick from his mouth to give Jodie some. He allowed his dick to swing back and forth for them to catch and suck. 

“Y’all gon’ have me fucking again,” Erik shook his head, “Damn...y’all love this dick.”

Watching them attack his dick had Erik satisfied but there was still part of him that needed more. 

Adonis was going to be trouble...if only he would accept his attraction for Erik so he could really show him how badly he needs him. Erik wasn’t going to wait too long either. 

@tgigoldie​ @soufcakmistress​ @chefjessypooh​ @chaneajoyyy​ @pananegra​ @theblulife​ @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark  @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhorewrites @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara@honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @chaneajoyyy @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @cecereads209 @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique  @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0  @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer @efonteno @mikesteel20 @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @xoxomyaah @asweet-serendipity @therealmrsmbjordan @ajspencer1892 @queengodiva619 @niqui87 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll @backandbetter2 @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife @queenflaws @queenbetter @yomiloo @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @ambitionwood @t3mporaa @toniilaney @iv0rysoap @sinfully-dope @lovehatecritique @chocolategirl605 @naysianaee @nyleveeee @erlebnissebliss @melinaasap1 @woahthatshitfat @that-chick212 @scarypumkin23 @sambuckyslayallday @vikki240401 @kuaua98 @enigmadivine @gingerylimonte @counterfeit-recherche @unholyxcumbucket @xdezaraex @missgigglesmoultrie @imrootingforeveryoneblack @dashhoney25 @oversorry @abluesforlyssa @honeybeejaes @admirehermind @wassuduoo @kaykay0829 @woahitslucyylu

#Creed 2 #Erik Killmonger #killmonger smut #adonis creed #adonis x OC #killmonger x oc #creedimagine #nahimjustfeelingit writes

[champhangman]

Smoke

My second entry for theme #1 in the @12daysofchristmas​ challenge! This one is also my birthday gift to my very, very dear @adampage​. Emi, you mean the whole world to me and words cannot express just how grateful I am for your always being there for me. I hope you've had the happiest of birthdays, and also that this puts a smile on your face.

Title: Smoke Fandom/Characters: AEW (Hangman) Adam Page x OFC (but not really OC bc it’s Emi) Warnings: Alcohol use, hints of smut Word Count: 4,665 Summary: Put one in my hand, her on my lips. Man, that's as good as it gets. Theme: #1, Bonfire Recommended Listening: "Smoke" by A Thousand Horses Notes: This fic isn't very Christmassy, but it is autumn-y?

@adampage / @cowboyshit  / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980  / @adriii-omega / @edgecution

"Who's that?"

Adam knew better than to jerk his head around and stare. But he was already twisting, a smile pulling at his lips when he saw the obvious focus of his buddy's attention. She was sitting at the bar with her friend, the neon lights reflecting wildly off her turquoise hair. She leaned back, laughing, and he felt the now-familiar twist in his gut when the sound reached him.

He turned back around to face Isiah, grinning. "That's Emi."

"Emi? The girl you were telling us about?" Isiah's face lit up. "You didn't mention she's so fine…"

"Cut it out," Adam groaned, shaking his head. "We're just friends."

"Not to sound like an asshole, but—"

"Don't."

"C'mon, let me say it."

"No." Adam took a sip of his beer and shook his head again. "Because I already know what you're gonna say."

Isiah rolled his eyes. Then, beginning to smirk, he rubbed his hands together. "So if you're just friends you won't mind me asking her to the party."

"She's already coming."

"Alone?"

"I think she's coming with—" Adam squinted at his friend. "Oh, no. No, no, no. You're not asking her out."

"Why not?"

"She's not your type."

Isiah snorted. "She's cute and has a nice ass, she's definitely my type."

Adam nearly choked on his beer. "How the hell do you know what her ass looks like?"

"I can tell." The younger man grinned. "It's science."

He wanted to ask. He really did. But he didn't want to get a lecture on the finer points of determining the size and shape of a woman's backside. "Don't ask her out."

"Worried she'll say yes?"

"No," he bit off.

"Oh," Isiah said loudly, nodding. "I get it, I get it."

Adam sighed. "What?"

"You like her. As in like her."

"Of course I like her. She's nice and funny and—"

"And you want to get in her pants."

"And I want to—" Adam set his beer down with a thump. "Th'fuck did you just say?"

"It's cool, it's cool." Isiah scraped his chair back and stood. "You're shy, Adam, I know. I'll fix it up for you."

"Wait a goddamn minute!"

But Isiah was already heading towards the bar. Adam watched, terror rising in his chest, as his friend approached the two women. Emi and her friend Jo didn't look upset at him for interrupting their talk when he leaned against the bar and gave them both a winning smile. He saw Isiah's lips move, watched in horror as the man's head tipped in his direction, then felt panic when first Jo, then Emi, covertly glanced towards him.

***

"Ladies."

The greeting was accompanied by a grin from the man that slid up to the bar and leaned so both she and Jo could see it. Smiling, Emi sat back a little and regarded the man warily. She couldn't sense any possible negativity or threat from him and relaxed a bit, reminding herself that she frequently had difficulty reading other people. But she couldn't be rude. "Hello."

"My name's Isiah." He nodded to Jo. "We've met before."

"Yeah, hey," Jo said, smiling. "This is Emi."

"Emi?" He gently rubbed his chin then leaned against the bar. "I've heard a little about you."

"You have?" she squeaked. Then, not wanting to sound like an idiot, she cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink before trying again. "Who's talked about me?"

"My friend. He can't shut up about you."

Emi blinked. "He can't?"

"Between you and me, I'm like ninety-nine percent sure he wants to ask you out. But he's too shy."

She almost snorted. No one ever wanted to ask her out. "Yeah, right."

"He almost had a heart attack when I said I was coming over to talk to you."

She wanted to look. To see who it was. She wanted to know who apparently had talked about her, and who might, possibly, if Isiah were to be believed, want to ask her out. But she couldn't. What if it were all a joke? What if she looked back and there was no one?

What if there was?

"Who?" Jo wasn't as shy as Emi. Jo didn't wait for things to happen, she made them happen. Ever since meeting her the first day she'd arrived in town, Emi had wished she were more like Jo.

"I'm sure you know him. You've gotta. He's right over there, about to have a stroke." Isiah tipped his head towards a spot behind them. "Be cool, be cool, or he'll really have a stroke."

Emi almost laughed. She turned her head just a bit, so she could sneak a glance in the direction he'd indicated. Seeing the blonde man seated at the little table, she felt her heart drop into her stomach. "Shut up," she blurted, looking at Isiah. "Adam?"

Next to her, Jo giggled into her drink. "Oh this is great."

"Shut up," Emi warned. Jo was the only person who knew she had a little bit of a crush on the man. The oftentimes too-pretty man with a sunny smile and bouncing curls who wore jeans just a tad too tight and had a liking for obnoxious Western shirts. The kids at school called him Mr. Cowboy. Jo called him the Panty Dropper. Emi… Emi just called him Adam. Even in her mind, because despite her overactive imagination that created a whole host of scenarios that would never happen, she couldn't bring herself to call him anything but Adam. Because she would die if, during one of their chats at school in the teacher's lounge, she slipped and called him something inappropriate?

"Why is it great?" Isiah asked.

"Because—"

"Shut. Up." Emi ground out the words. God, Jo was going to embarrass her.

Isiah laughed. "Y'all are coming to the party tomorrow, aren't you?"

"We'll be there with bells on," Jo promised.

"Clothes, too, hopefully," Emi muttered.

Isiah snickered. "This is great."

***

Adam didn't know why everyone called it a party. To him, parties were for birthdays or an important event like an engagement or retirement, or even a holiday. Parties involved decorations and nice clothes and best behavior. They had small talk and polite laughter.

This party had none of that. There were no decorations, unless one considered the pile of scarecrows waiting to be slung onto the fire. No streamers or balloons or floral arrangements could be seen among the pickups circled around the center of the field. Nobody dressed up, everyone wore comfortable jeans and flannel shirts or hoodies and their old boots. Each truck seemed to have a different song coming from its radio, but the volumes were still low while everyone began sharing the booze and food they'd brought.

No tense small talk over weak drinks. There were intense discussions about football, one group was talking about Christmas plans. The drinks were strong and the laughter stronger, almost boisterous. Adam casually moved around the circle, waving the smoke from the fire out of his face, relaxing a little as the evening wore on.

He was sitting on his tailgate, pouring whiskey into his cup, when headlights cut across the field. Looking, he watched them swing, heard the engine rev, and calculated speed and distance and angling as the truck reversed towards him. "Shit," he muttered, hoping his calculations were wrong. The driver hit the brakes, casting a red glow over him, and he held his breath when the engine revved again, watching the pickup's bed squeeze between his and Cash's.

"Haha, oops," a female voice laughed after the engine was cut off. The driver's door opened, missing slamming into his passenger door by barely a millimeter, and he sighed as Jo hopped out. "See?! Bet you thought it wouldn't fit!"

"That's what she said," Dax called from his truck.

A musical giggle sounded from the cab of Jo's truck, and then he saw Emi climbing out. In the glow of the light Adam could see the shade of turquoise in her flannel shirt was the same shade as her hair. Feeling liquid slosh over his fingers he muttered a curse and tipped the bottle upright to stop the pouring. He ignored Isiah's chuckle as his friend took the bottle and, sipping the excess from the top, shook his fingers dry, watching out the corner of his eye while Emi hopped into the truck bed. She held a paper-wrapped bottle in one hand and he wondered what her preferred drink was. Funny, he thought, vaguely aware of Jo speaking, how he didn't know what Emi drank. When they ran into each other at the bar she was usually sipping a mixed drink or sticking to water.

"You ain't gotta sit over there by yourself," he told her a few moments later. Jo was gone. He had no idea where she'd slipped off to. He didn't really care. Isiah had abandoned him and taken his whiskey with him, but when Emi looked at him with a smile pulling at her lips he didn't care about that, either.

"You're sitting over there by yourself," she said, lifting her bottle for a sip.

"Let's burn these bitches!" Adam didn't know who hollered it, but heard some cheers of agreement.

"You wanna throw a scarecrow on the fire?" he asked.

She shook her head, and he saw something twinkling in her hair. "Do you?"

Adam shook his head. "Maybe next year."

"What are you drinking?" she asked after a moment.

The flames rose and he heard the whoosh of hay being consumed by the bonfire. Glancing down at his empty cup, he sighed. "Jack, but I'm out. That asshole Isiah took the rest with him."

"I've got some Tennessee Fire if you want." She dipped her head and he saw she had a bejeweled band on her head. "I've been drinking out of the bottle, though…"

"You don't got cooties, do you?"

She laughed, sliding off the tailgate and approaching him. Smoke whirled around her and followed her to his truck. He hopped down, eyes meeting hers, and lifted her onto his tailgate. He thought he saw her cheeks darken, but when he climbed up to sit next to her it was gone. "I don't have cooties."

"That's a relief." He held out his cup, eyes on her face while she poured. "Thanks."

"Not to sound like a downer, but does everyone just load up and drive home drunk as fuck?" she asked, briefly gesturing to the others.

"Naw," he drawled, lifting the cup for a sip. The cinnamon flavor clung to his tongue and added to the trickle of fire the whiskey created in his stomach. "Most of us just camp out in our trucks."

"In the middle of a cotton field." Emi shook her head. "Sounds…"

"Stupid?" He laughed. "It probably is. Some people might call for a ride, and there's always one idiot or two that drive home, but the rest of us sleep it off and roll back to town in the morning."

"That explains why Jo told me to bring a pillow and a sleeping bag." She glanced behind her. "Do you have one, too?"

"Yeah, up front."

"What if it rains?"

Adam tipped his head back to look at the cloudless sky. "It never has."

"But what if it does?"

"We'll drag ourselves into the cabs." He grinned at her. "You're a bit of a worrywart, aren't you?"

"I can't help it." She frowned. "I just want everyone to be safe."

"I think it's cute."

"Please," she snorted. "It's annoying. No one wants the mom friend."

"Some of us do," he promised.

***

Some of us do.

What the hell did that mean? The question popped into her mind again, though it had been hours since he'd said the words. The conversation had shifted to work, and then quickly to other topics, and it had flowed as quickly and naturally as the alcohol. She felt warm, almost toasty, perched in the back of his truck watching him climb over into Jo's truck to get her sleeping bag. It landed with a soft thump next to her and she reached for it, eyes still on him as he got her pillow and the extra blanket she'd brought. The truck dipped when he climbed back over, and she smiled up at him while folding the sleeping bag so she could sit on it.

"You're cold natured, huh?" he asked, handing over the pillow and blanket.

"It's December," she pointed out. "But yeah, I do get cold easily."

"Hang on." He lifted one foot to the side of the truck bed and her eyes drank in how the denim stretched over his crotch. She blinked, the bed swayed, and she heard his boots hit the ground.

She should have told him not to get her stuff. It wasn't as though she was going to sleep in his truck. It would just mean something to keep up with when she went back to Jo's truck. Jo. Frowning, she looked around, hoping to spot her friend.

A neatly rolled sleeping bag bounced next to her. The driver's door slammed, then Adam was climbing back in, tossing a thick hoodie over her lap. "Here, I won't get cold."

"Thanks." She spread it over her lap, fighting what had to be a stupid smile. Then, thinking of her friend again, she looked at him. "Have you seen Jo?"

"She's around," he said with a shrug. "So, how come you moved all the way out here?"

She told him, tongue loosened by his relaxing presence and the alcohol. To her surprise and embarrassment, she kept talking, finding it too easy to tell him that she was often homesick for Georgia, her old friends, and even her parents. He talked about family, too, and they passed the bottle back and forth as the bonfire's flames died down. Their voices lowered as the noise around them softened, and it felt all too natural to move closer so she could hear him better.

There was still the occasional laugh from someone, but slowly the laughter died out. One by one the radios were turned off, then just the irregular crackling from the fire among the soft conversations around them.

"Why are you wearing a tiara?" Adam asked after someone threw the last scarecrow on the fire.

"Oh." She laughed and reached to take it off, having forgotten it was still there. Still warm and toasty, now wrapped in the hoodie that smelled of him, she tossed the tiara aside. "Jo made me wear it when we went to dinner. It's my birthday."

"Yeah?" His smile was warm. "You should've told me."

"I just did."

"I would've gotten you something."

"No, I don't expect anything."

"We could've made this a birthday party for you."

"No," she groaned, giggling at the thought of a birthday party around a bonfire in a field. It sounded absurd. It sounded stupid. It sounded wonderful and sweet.

He slipped the bottle from her hand and set it aside.

She watched him sit up, and thought he was hinting that she should go when he spread his sleeping bag out. "Last night, at the bar…"

He lifted his head when she hesitated. "Yeah?"

"Never mind."

"No, c'mon, tell me," he encouraged, stretching out on his side. He reached around her, dragging her pillow next to his, then patted the sleeping bag invitingly.

Her heart tripped over several beats. Nodding, she uncurled her legs, leaning to pull off her boots before settling beside him. She waited until she'd spread her unzipped sleeping bag and blanket over her before shifting so she could see his face in the moonlight. "Isiah came over to talk to me and Jo."

"I know." He made a face.

"He said…" She drew in a breath. "He said you wanted to ask me out."

"He ain't wrong."

A door slammed, then an engine roared to life. Emi sat up, and saw Jo's head pop up from the back of Dax's truck. Surprised, but not really, when a hand reached up and yanked her friend down, she blinked to make sure she'd seen what she'd thought, and a few seconds later saw Jo's red-and-black plaid shirt flop over the side of the truck. She had known that there would be drunken sex happening at the so-called party. It was a bunch of country folks at a bonfire with almost unlimited amounts of liquor to spur them on. She was almost afraid to look at the other vehicles, but her eyes were already sliding, her head turning slightly, and she felt her cheeks heat when she saw more than a few couples making out. From somewhere – she wasn't about to look to see who – came a series of lustful moans.

"Hell yeah!" someone hooted triumphantly.

"Oh my god," Emi muttered, lying back.

Adam chuckled. "You're not really shocked, are you?"

"No… A little. I'm not uptight," she defended. "I just don't want to see it, you know?"

"I know," he murmured.

A thought occurred to her and she boldly reached over to poke his arm. "I didn't climb into your truck to have drunken sex with you."

"I ain't the drunk sex type, darlin'."

She had known he wasn't. She didn't know how she'd known, but she had. It was still nice to hear him say it, though. "…What kind of drunk are you?"

He laughed. It was almost a giggle. "I ain't drunk. But I get sappy. If I'm with someone I'm interested in, I get a little handsy… Sometimes I get loud and want to do stupid shit like chuck watermelons out the truck on a back road."

Emi grinned. "That sounds like fun."

"Yeah? We'll have to do that together sometime."

"I'd like that."

"So when I ask you out, you'll say yes?"

"You'll have to ask me and find out." She didn't know where this was coming from, this teasing and flirting that was so easy, but she enjoyed it.

"Emi?"

"Hmm?"

"Wanna go chuck watermelons out the truck?"

Her grin turned into a giggle. "I'd love to."

"I'll get someone to drive us."

"You'd have to. If we're drunk and standing in the back to throw melons, we need a driver."

"Watermelons are hard to find around here in December, though," he pointed out with a sigh.

"We can use pumpkins."

"Now we're talkin'!"

Laughing, she pulled her covers up over her shoulder. "This has been a fun night, Adam."

"It ain't over yet."

"It kinda is…" There was no more talking around them. Every few moments she heard a little moan or a soft giggle. The fire was almost died down. If she shifted her head just right she could see the glowing embers. They flickered, sparked, and she heard someone walking by. Seconds later there were soft murmurs of conversation in the truck next to them, and she turned her attention back to Adam.

"Happy birthday, Emi."

"Thank you," she murmured, trying to block out the sounds of movement. They seemed magnified, though, as were the whispers and rustling. There was fumbling, breathy gasps, then she heard the unmistakable rasp of a zipper being lowered. Unconsciously moving closer to Adam, she bit her lip when his hand found hers and squeezed.

"You wanna get in the cab?" he asked in a whisper.

She did, but she didn't. It would involve moving, but it would get her away from the sounds of foreplay occurring just a few feet away. Hesitating, she tried to decide whether or not she could tough it out. A man began to moan, she realized just what was happening, and she nodded. "Please?"

"I got you, darlin'," he murmured.

Have her, he did. He whispered for her to stand up while he climbed out, and the next thing she knew he was lifting her over the side, catching her to him with one arm as he opened the passenger door. Once she was inside he leaned to get her pillow, then gently closed the door. She got situated, adjusting her legs and the blanket while he rounded to climb in on the driver's side. A loud moan cut through the cab, shut off when he slammed the door, and when he looked at her in the dim light she began to laugh.

"I'm ridiculous," she sighed after their laughter had ceased.

"You're not."

"What does it say about me that I can't handle listening to people having sex?" She shook her head. "I guess I'm uptight about it."

"Are you uptight because you think it's a private thing that shouldn't happen around other people, or because you…" Adam cleared his throat. "Because you don't like sex?"

"It's been so long I can't even remember," she muttered without thinking. Then, before he could respond, she rushed on. "I think it's a private thing that shouldn't happen around other people. I mean, I couldn't do it around other people, you know? But I'm not gonna judge those than can. They're obviously having fun, they're consenting adults, I shouldn't be offended."

"Hang on." He shifted, stretching out his legs. "I've had too much to try to analyze all that…"

"I guess it would be different if we were in a house and people just went off to another room. I really don't mind people having sex." Emi sighed and fidgeted with the corner of the blanket. "I think part of me is just jealous that I'm not getting any."

"All you gotta do is ask."

"Sure, I'll just march over and ask two people that I might not even know if I can join in—"

"I mean me."

"You'd go ask them if I can join in?" she asked in confusion.

He laughed. "God, you're so fucking adorable. I mean ask me for sex, darlin'."

"I don't want a pity fuck," she said with a frown. Her frazzled brain finally caught up, and she turned to face him. "You've called me that a few times now."

"Does it bother you?"

"I like it."

"Good, 'cause I like calling you darlin'. And," he said, pushing himself upright, one hand leaning on the dashboard, "I don't do pity fucks."

"You don't?"

"If I have sex with someone it's 'cause I want them." There was just enough moonlight coming through the window for her to see him smile. "And they want me, of course."

"Everyone wants you." When he snorted, she rolled her eyes. "They do! All the women at work are always saying that you're a panty dropper or you make them wet when you talk to them, and I heard one say she'd like you to crack her back like a glowstick—"

"What do you say?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Apparently y'all talk about me." He exhaled slowly. "What do you say during these conversations?"

"I don't say a damn thing."

"You don't?"

"My thoughts about you are private, I'm not about to blurt them out for everyone to hear." For some reason she felt a giddiness beginning to rise within her. She had to be going delirious. The next words out of her mouth proved that she was. "Sure, when we talk and you flash that pretty smile I have to squeeze my thighs together. And yeah, sometimes when I'm alone in my bed at night I fantasize about you bending me over and railing the hell out of me. And okay, fine, if you must know, I keep that voicemail you left me when you sounded sleepy because the way you said my name made me wet. But—"

"Jesus Christ, darlin'," he muttered. "All that, huh?"

"Yes," she groaned. Lifting her hands to cover her face, she gasped when he gently pushed them away. "You've got to be used to it, though. Women practically throw themselves at you every day."

"They really don't," he said. His fingers whispered over her cheek. "And even if they did, I wouldn't care."

"They do," she insisted. He was moving closer and her heart was starting to race. "Are you blind?"

"I said I wouldn't care, not that I wouldn't notice."

"Why wouldn't you care? If men threw themselves at me, I'd—"

"Stand there and smile and blush, all pretty and cute like you have for months," he interrupted.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been throwing myself at you since we met, darlin'."

"Bullshit," she blurted.

"Maybe you're the one who's blind."

"I like things to be given to me plainly. I'm not good at the subtle stuff."

"Yeah, I'm starting to figure that out."

"But I refuse to believe you've been throwing yourself at me," she muttered.

"Maybe throwing isn't the right word. But I've been trying to let you know I'm interested."

"Really? You've been flirting with me?"

"Have been since May." He chuckled.

"God, I am blind."

"Can you see now?" he asked. His palm was warm, slightly rough from the work she knew he did on his parents' farm. It cradled her cheek.

"Yeah," she whispered. All she could see was his eyes. And his smile. "I see clearly."

"About fuckin' time, darlin'," he drawled while guiding her close.

Their lips met with mutual sighs. She felt the longing, the desire, rolling off him, mirroring hers. He tasted of cinnamon whiskey and smoke. He smelled of the outdoors, of woods and fire, and she practically melted against him. Their tongues danced the age-old dance and their hands and fingers began to explore. His breath was harsh and hot, hers was erratic. A few grunts passed between them while they moved closer to each other.

He pulled back slightly, releasing a breathless chuckle. "I ain't fucking you the first time in a truck."

"Oh?" she asked, licking her lips as the blanket slid away.

Adam shook his head. "For about five reasons."

"Which are?" She smiled when he shifted so he was stretched out on the seat and she was on top of him.

"One, I like to have room. Two, you deserve better than a sloppy, half-drunk fuck. Three, I know you'd be embarrassed about it in the morning when everybody gives you that knowing look. Four—"

She cut him off with a kiss. It was sweet, almost chaste, and she pulled back to grin at him. "Three was enough."

"But four was my favorite one," he whined, dragging the blanket over them.

"Okay, fine, continue," she laughed.

"Four, I like you too damn much to act like a horny teenager. At least, at first," he added with a quick grin. "Five, I want it to happen naturally, not because we shared whiskey and listened to people fucking two feet away."

"Such a gentleman," she marveled. "There aren't many of those around anymore."

"I'm really not. I'll eventually act like a horny teenager, trust me."

"I can't wait."

"After I bend you over and fuck the hell out of you," he promised, pulling her into another kiss.

"I really can't wait," she moaned.

"We gotta," he whispered between kisses.

"Adam?" she asked, shivering after a long, drawn-out kiss. "Are you an idiot?"

"Sometimes, yeah, why?"

"I wanna do something stupid."

"If you say I'm the something stupid thing you wanna do—"

"Let's go to my place."

His fingers curled into her hips. She heard him gulp. "You sure?"

"Positive. I've got a big bed." Squealing softly when he sat up, she gripped his shoulders.

"We'll go slow," he whispered after kissing her again.

"We will?"

"Yeah." Sliding her off him, he scooted over to get behind the wheel.

"Don't drive like an idiot," she requested.

"I won't," he assured her, clapping a hand on her thigh and squeezing. "Trust me?"

"I'm letting you take me home so we can have sex, of course I trust you."

He started the engine, then leaned to give her a quick kiss. "No regrets tomorrow?"

"No regrets ever," she promised.

#hangman adam page #aew #hangman adam page fanfiction #aew fanfiction #12daysofchristmas #completely unedited whoops #happy birthday emi :) #my fics

[widdlefangs]

Platonic 

Pairing: Bobby x ChildhoodFriend!MC Words: 1.7k Notes: Ok full disclosure I’ve used this for other fandoms but I just felt like it was so relevant to Bobby. I guess I’m doing fics now so maybe send me prompts or smth and I’ll jot some fics down. Headcanons too. 

Bobby clicked his pen for what seemed like the umpteenth time during this whole study session. He stared as his study buddy bit her lip at an equation she’s been writing yet again. She scribbled furiously before scratching it out with a frustrated groan. She leaned back on her chair and slumped with a whimper escaping her lips. Bobby nudged her foot with his own under the table.

“Hey,” he comforted his friend, “Come on, you need to take a break.”

He bounced off his chair and walked towards her small kitchen. Bobby found pride in the fact that he knows his way around like it’s his own. He got her stash of peppermint tea at the top left corner cabinet right beside the Christmas mugs. He hooked a foot on the lower cabinet where her small spoons were. He plugged the water heater at the bottom socket because the top sparked since he plugged a hair blower there once in one of their all nighters. With pronounced ease, he prepared the exact blend of tea he knew she loved with the precision of a friend who knew her inside out. He leaned back and watched her wallow in the pages of her book whilst the water boiled.

He was her friend. No, he was her best friend (he hoped, if no other human would agree to buying her tampons if she can’t leave the house). She was most definitely his best friend, none can deny that. Bottomline is, for the majority of their lives, it has always been platonic. Painfully platonic. 

It doesn’t matter if she cuddles between his legs on her couch whenever they watch Ghibli. It doesn’t matter if he strips butt naked in front of her as they change for a night out. It doesn’t matter if his parents already set up her clothes in Bobby’s closet and her toothbrush beside his. She and he shall be perpetually…just platonic. Sighing, he pushed the off button before it lit red knowing that she hated scalding her tongue.

He wondered how they’ve gotten here. There was a project once back in grade school where they were asked to write where they see themselves in twenty years. She was there in every paragraph, in every line, in every sentence in his write up. She was what came up to his mind when one would ask him who he envisions to be his wife someday. And that image hasn’t changed since. Perhaps it took root from the innocence of childhood—how hugging and cuddling and touching in general was deemed platonic in children, that’s why she’s gotten to used to it— but as respectable adults, it just seemed like he was doing all the responsibilities of a boyfriend without getting the benefits of one.

He shook his head at the thought of how hopeless he was. Someday, she’ll find a man that can’t love her half as much as he did. And she’ll think he’s the one. And someday he’ll find her cuddled up with him on her couch as he sits by at the other end just because he’s the best friend.

He felt a pair of slim arms wrap around his waist and a button nose nuzzle the back of his shoulder. Exactly  the type of behaviour he’d been elaborating in his head earlier.

“I smelled the tea.”

“I know you did, you can’t resist me.” he chuckled sadly. After knowing Bobby since childhood, she knew there was a matter of glumness in his tone. She tugged on his waist, urging him to face her.

“Don’t even bother telling me you’re all right. Spill it.” she looked up at him.

“Spill what?” he cocked an eyebrow, taking a sip at her teacup.

“Don’t spill what me, McKenzie. I know something is up with you,” she said, taking her tea from his hand and gingerly nursing it between her fingers.

“Nothing is up with me,” his mouth quirked, taking his own cup and smiling at her with tired eyes.

She frowned at that. Pursing her lips as she leaned on the kitchen island across him. He knitted their toes together while sipping his tea. He reached for the side of the refrigerator and took out the rest of the chocolate cake he baked from yesterday. Grabbing a fork, he pushed off the counter to lean into her, one arm supporting his weight on the counter his other balanced the two slices of cake on a plate. She placed her head on the crook of his shoulder out of habit. There she goes again.

“Tell you what, if you finish your slice first, I’ll spill.”

She gave him a bewildered look and he used that to his advantage by shoving the slice in his mouth. She quickly caught on and started stuffing her face with cake as well. In an effort to win, he shoved his entire piece in his mouth and grabbed the rest of hers and made a run for it.

“Can’t finish your slice now, can you?” he sputtered, mouth full of cake. Bobby jumped on her couch, nesting on it like a hawk. She protested below him, cheeks all puffed up in cake.

“Bobby I swear, I’m not afraid to push you off!” she stomped, barely able to speak.

“Oh yeah? Prove it!”

And that was all it took for him to be tackled to the floor with her straddling him. She had a wild look as she reached for the crumbled cake and ate it off his hand. He revelled in the feeling of her mouth around his fingers, he’d like to feel that more often. It was down to a battle of chewing. The first one to swallow wins. She planted her hands on his chest and narrowed her eyes at him as she chewed the food in her mouth furiously, even if it did make her look like a deranged animal. It’s not like they weren’t twenty-two year olds rolling around on the floor on a lopsided food eating contest.

She swallowed first. He let her. “Aha! I win. Now spill.”

He was still chewing, albeit leisurely now. He placed a hand on her hip as a sign to wait. She didn’t seem to mind the intimate gesture. He finally swallowed.

Taking a deep breath— for the confession and his hurting throat— he spilled.

“I was thinking how much I love how we’re so platonic. Even if I’m practically your boyfriend—no, your husband, with all that we’ve been doing.”

She gave him an incredulous look. Bobby can’t believe that this moment was where all his years of platonic relationship lead up to.

“That’s it? I wrestled you for that?”

He bit his lip—hurt that she reacted the way she did. The way she always would. She degraded his feelings—feelings that have in fact been pent-up for years. He was sick of it. Absolutely sick of it.

“Do you think what we have is platonic?” he spoke up. She noted the tone of a challenge in his voice. There was hurt there too. Unable to look straight into his eyes, she turned away.

“If someone walked into this room right now and see us, would they think we’re platonic? You’re straddling me in your pyjamas while I’m in my boxers and you think this is platonic?”

She gulped.

“I’m so tired. Tired of pretending that there’s nothing here,” he pushed.

“Bobby— I

In truth she didn’t know what to tell him, or how. There was just too much history between them.

“Could you tell me right now, to my face, that you don’t love me. If you can say that right now, I swear, I’ll let it go. I won’t ever bring up the topic ever again,”  he declared. There was an almost violent beating in his chest. An anxiety that couldn’t be quelled with anything but her words.

His heart clenched when she couldn’t reply to him. It spurned his anger even further.

With everything on the line, he kissed her. He kissed with all the fervour he’d been wanting since he met her. Bobby knew that this wasn’t how he wanted to reveal his feelings. He knew that this could very well end as a nightmare for the both of them.

Until he suddenly felt it. Her hands weaving into his hair like how he’d always imagined. Her lips pressing back with as much ardour. Her body curling into his as she kissed him. She kissed him. Back.

They stayed there for who knows how long, just lingering in the shade of the night, enjoying each other’s company in a whole other light. Finally, he broke away—he still had a point to make.

“Now did you think that was platonic?”  he murmured, a little breathless.

His spine was tingling, his hands a bit shaky, the world was spinning and the point of intersection was her. Innately her. Hers all along. It was her.

She muttered something incoherent, a little smile tugging on the sides of her lips and his heart leapt with joy. He tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her shoulder and kissed the skin that was revealed to him. He’d always wanted to kiss her there. It’s not like it hasn’t been accessible, on the contrary, it was a tease for him. To know that he could get so close and yet he couldn’t touch.

He released his meanderings and breathed on her skin, feeling  her shiver reverberate to his hands. It made him deliriously happy. “How about that? Was that platonic?”

She shook her head a little. Bobby allowed his hands to travel down her back like he has done so for the past thirteen years, but none so as leisurely as he did now.

“Can I ask if this is platonic?” she whispered and kissed the length from his ear to his jawline and latched on to the hollow of his neck. Bobby hadn’t meant to, but he groaned.

“Yeah that’s very platonic. Friends do that all the time.” he struggled to create coherent sentences with all the emotions swirling inside him. She leaned on her elbows and smiled at him.

“You know, Bobby, I love how we’re so platonic.”

“I love how we’re so platonic too.”

#love island the game #litg fics #litg bobby #bobby mckenzie #bobby x mc #litg season 2 #love island season 2 #litg s2 #litg fanfic #love island #love island fic

[petersthree]

I was looking through my blog and came across a follower celebration that I was supposed to do and definitely never did for some reason and uh. That’s definitely not happening now but I did want to just do something, so I thought - I follow a lot of great content creators, so why not highlight them?

A lot of people do multiple things even if I only put them in one category so check out their tags and their work. <3  

Glorious Gifmakers:

@olisgifs makes such fantastic gifs (and she did this lovely header)! Her gifs are so thoughtful of the characters and who they are as people, and you can tell that she really loves all the characters. || Favorite set || Favorite series ||

@anya-chalotra has some of the most amazing gifs I’ve seen on this site. She experiments with such a cool style and every gifset I’ve seen of hers has absolutely taken my breath away, they’re amazing! || Favorite set ||

@tuafives honestly the fact that she believes in Hufflepuff Five already makes them a fantastic blog, but her gifs in general are just fantastic! The coloring is always so pretty and I’m obsessed with them. || Favorite set ||

@charmingqueenie I’m always hit with a blast from the past from her gifs in the best possible way. Some of the best Charmed gifs I’ve seen honestly, and her LNC series has my whole ass heart. || Favorite set || Favorite series ||

@inappropriateexplosions Experiments with such different styles and I love it! [meme voice] She has the range, dahling! I love seeing what different style she’s going to do next and it’s always absolutely lovely. || Favorite series ||

@challengerblue Her gifsets need more love and it is a crime, because LOOK at her edit tag!!! These are all such beautiful gifsets and I am obsessed with each and every one! The coloring! The scenes chosen! The talent! || Favorite set ||

@captain-flint Every time I see one of their sets: “Oh the talent jumped out huh?” Has so many lovely Buddie sets and Eddie sets in general and I love them all!!! || Favorite set || Another Favorite ||

@joel-miller honestly I’m getting repetitive here but I can’t help that every single gif-maker is just so so talented. Has fantastic sets and probably my only mutual who also gifs TLOU which??? I love!!! || Favorite set ||

@chloedoeslucifer has such lovely sets!! I’m a particular fan of her parallel sets because she picks up on SO many parallels that I didn’t even notice and it’s amazing. || Favorite set ||

@i-am-irondad Libby’s sets make me so emotional??? Such great Iron Dad/Iron Fam content in particular and it feeds my soul, I just love these sets and the found families that she gifs. <3 || Favorite series || Favorite set ||

@stevenrogered I think the one good thing about the “since you’ve been gone”/”in your orbit” feature is that I got to see their awesome gifs for SO many fandoms that I’m in (and also made me think I was following them for a very long time and I was so sad when I realized I wasn’t lmao). Just fantastic gifs all around! || Favorite set || 

@diegohargreves I love love love the coloring used in these gifsets! The yellow in particular is always fantastic and I rarely see it used in gifsets, so I appreciate seeing it - they’re always so vibrant and lovely sets! || Favorite set ||

@felicityollies has gifsets that I admire from afar now that I don’t watch Arrow anymore lmaooo but there’s always going to be a part of me that still ships Olicity and that part of me dies with how good her gifs are! Genuinely just *chef’s kiss* || Favorite set ||

@vaughnsgreenwood I also look at Dannii’s sets from afar because we don’t share many fandoms but her skills are just FANTASTIC. Also, even though I’m not going to watch the new Charmed her gifsets make me ship Harry and Macy so thanks for that lol. || Favorite set || 

@marcomardon graciously lets me call her Canada since I had very little reading comprehension when I read her blog, and also makes great sets! I love her stuff, especially when it comes to the rogues!! || Favorite set || 

Amazing Artists(/Graphic Makers):

@undead--hotmess has such lovely art! I’m so in awe of the talent, their paintings I’ve seen I’d say would look like real photographs like...it’s amazing || Favorite piece ||

@superbandnerd99 Okay real talk idk if she has more works on tumblr but I just need to share this one because it’s beautiful and everyone should see it and I’m 1000% updating it when she has the final piece out!!

@the-maidofmischief like some of THE best icons I’ve seen??? I love them all so much??? They’re so vibrant and colorful and absolutely beautiful and I’ve made it a mission to have basically all of her icons on my different social media accounts lmao || Favorite piece ||

@fengshuismirke her art is just. SO good. I was so blown away by a Martin piece that I’m tagging in here but I’m just in awe of her work!!! Check out her “my stuff” tag because she also writes! || Favorite piece || 

Wonderful Writers:

@ginnxtonic Ho boy. Ginny’s fics.....her writing is so good that I am now invested in the lives of AU children of Theon/Sansa in Game of Thrones. That’s how invested her fics will get you. They’re so wonderfully in character and she puts real heart and work into her fics and it shows. || Favorite work || Favorite series ||

@aprilthegayqueen has such wonderful fics! The ones I’ve read have been slice-of-life and character studies and I absolutely love them. They’re also in fandoms I haven’t been in for a while and they make me want to immediately rewatch. :’) || Favorite work ||

@zaritomaz hnnnng Mina has written some of my FAVORITE works of all time. She has such a talent for writing and it’s always just so beautiful, poetic, and lovely. || Favorite work ||

@nightskywriter has such lovely fics!! I personally have read through all her TUA fics and they’re *chef’s kiss* fantastic. She has a very fun style of writing and it really shines through! || Favorite work ||

@incendiaglacies Has such a long and varied history of writing and it’s awesome! I sadly don’t share many fandoms with her anymore but I’ve seen her Dream Movie challenge and I’m reading through her book and she’s just such a talented author with such cool ideas! || Favorite work || Check this out! ||

@hedgiwithapen the ANGST hedgi writes oh my goodness. I’m pretty sure a common tag on multiple people’s blogs for Hedgi’s fics is “dammit hedgi” lmao! Amazing stuff (even if they fill me with pain). || Favorite work ||

@deadtedkord Meg’s writing....it is just......so so good. They’re pieces upon pieces of just fantastic writing and literally any compliment I give here would not measure up to how awesome her fics are. || Favorite work ||

I’m sorry if I missed anyone, know that even if you’re not on here it’s bc I have no brain cells and that your work is awesome (and please send me your stuff, I love to see it)! Be sure to give these folks some love, tags, and comments. Thanks to all the content creators out there, you guys are awesome. <3

#janie's 6k celebration #so fun fact #this is like 2 years late bc i realized i'm close to 7k now and i was like 'hm what did i do in previous celebrations' and realized #'oh. did not do this celebration at all' but y'know #even better bc i get to highlight even more folks!!!!

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Twelve

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains a brief scene of attempted sexual assault. Stay safe!]

Mark twenty-eight nuclear warheads .

  Backhand squinted down at the paper, up at Ingram and then back at the paper. "Oh, is that all?" She asked sarcastically. "What, you don't want me to grab milk and eggs while I'm out?"

  " Easy , smartass." Proctor Ingram laughed. "We know the general location. All we need is for you to sweep the area, get rid of hostiles and secure the payload. Simple!"

  "Yeah? Where's the general location then?" Backhand challenged.

  Ingram spread the map out on the desk, tapping the area circled in the lower left hand corner. "It's a military site, Prescott I think? One of our scribes was able to triangulate it using the documents you and Danse scooped from that veteran housing development."

  "In the Glowing Sea." Backhand groaned. "I had kind of hoped to never need to go back out there." I'd better start getting some damn perks for all the legwork I'm doing , she thought uncharitably.

  " Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die ." Ingram quoted at her, laughing again when Vega grumbled under her breath. "C'mon Vega, you're like the Brotherhood's poster child for Commonwealth recruitment. Where's your Ad Victoriam spirit? You have to spearhead this, if only for the eventual publicity."

  "Ah, the press ." Backhand retorted. "Who's my backup, then?"

  "Your sponsor, obviously! Though I'm guessing after this you'll be welcomed into the fold for real." Ingram mused, her expression thoughtful. "Danse seemed better when I saw him last. I think the time off the Prydwen has really done him some good."

  Vega tried to hide her flush of pride, quickly asking, "Other than the lack of big boomers, how is Prime looking?"

  "Pretty good, I'd say! It was a real stroke of luck that you got us Madison back, even if working with her makes me want to set my pubes on fire." Ingram answered frankly. "We're both too stubborn to function well together, but sometimes we can shut up and actually get shit done. Those are the times I believe we might have a shot here."

  "Your confidence is overwhelming." Backhand said dryly. 

  The other woman gave her a lopsided grin. "I've seen too many ops go south to put all my eggs in one scientist's basket, Vega. At least we'll have the numbers of the Minutemen on our side in case Prime can't get off the ground."

  "Has Quinlan had any luck getting that information unscrambled? My buddy hit a dead end pretty early on with the encryption, and he's dying to know whether he actually helped or whether it's all junk data." 

  Truthfully Sturges had gotten much further than either of them had expected (the fact that he knew there was data on the tape at all was a miracle), but Ingram didn't exactly have to know that. The older woman's sigh didn't sound overly promising though.

  "Nothing yet. He and his scribes have been working as close to around the clock as they can get without disrupting Cade across the way. It's always a process in close quarters." The proctor hummed. "With any luck, maybe a few more days?"

  "I'll keep my fingers crossed." Backhand promised. "I know it'll probably all be considered confidential information, but still."

  …

  "No."

  " Excuse me, Paladin?" Arthur snarled.

  Danse stood by the door to the elder's quarters, his posture perfect. "I said no, Elder Maxson." He repeated. "I will not be engaging with you any longer." 

  "Dare I ask what has brought about this insubordination? " The younger man queried.

  Danse stood firm. "This is not insubordination, Elder Maxson. You have exploited me long enough and I refuse to let you continue."

  "I'll have you exiled, Paladin." Maxson threatened. "One word from me and your status goes up in smoke. We are on the brink of war with the Institute and you wish to weaken our ranks? You're a good soldier, Danse. Don't make me send you away."

  Danse shook his head. His hands, clasped at the small of his back, trembled nervously until he clenched them into fists. "I'm sorry, Elder Maxson, but I refuse to allow you to manipulate or abuse me any further." 

  "Are you disobeying a direct order from your elder, Danse?" 

  "I am simply-"

  A knock on the door to Maxson's quarters interrupted whatever Danse had intended to say, and a split second later Knight Vega poked her head around the door. "Apologies, Elder Maxson." The woman said with a salute. "I was unaware that you two were having a discussion. Paladin, we are departing in ten minutes."

  Arthur jerked his head to the side to indicate that Elizabeth should leave. " Get out , Vega." He barked. 

  She hesitated and Danse closed his eyes in defeat, knowing that he was screwed the second she departed.

  He heard the door close and Arthur was abruptly on him, one hand gripping the paladin's throat to force Danse's head against the wall as he tore at the zipper of the other man's jumpsuit. "You are going to fuck me, Danse, so I suggest you warm up to the idea." Maxson hissed against his ear.

  Danse felt nauseous, dirty as Arthur pawed at him. Say no, damn it! What's wrong with you?

  The only warning either man got was a barely-audible knock on the door before Paladin Brandis barged in. Arthur whirled on the older man, murder in his eyes for the barest second. " Brandis! " Maxson roared. "How many-"

  "I have sixteen new aspirants seeking to rise to knight or scribe, Elder Maxson!" Brandis waved a sheaf of papers at the younger man. "I also have seven squires who believe they are ready for evaluation to ascend to aspirant. Oh, was I interrupting something?" He remarked, blinking in a befuddled manner at the clearly-furious elder.

  Maxson stared back at the older paladin, his chest heaving. "Don't think for one goddamn second that I don't know exactly what you're up to, you old fool!" Arthur's blue eyes were fairly crackling with rage. 

  "Me? The only thing I'm up to is trying to get this paperwork taken care of." Brandis protested blandly. "You're so suspicious , Maxson. It won't do you any favors." Brandis seemed to finally notice Danse standing there slackjawed and the older paladin began to scold, "zip up your uniform, Danse! We're a military , not a frathouse!" His eyebrows raised, all but begging Danse to take the opening and flee.

  Danse gulped and floundered to apologize, zipping up his suit. He caught the barest glimpse of Maxson's thunderous glare before he turned tail and bolted. The cowardice burned at him, but really, what else could he do?

  He shouldered past Vega lurking just outside the door, and stormed down the catwalk to the grease pit without a word.

  Their aerial approach to the Glowing Sea was silent and riddled with turbulence. Danse could identify the territory of the area from a fair distance away, the way the radiation tinged the sky to a sinister yellowed bruise a sure indication.

  Waypoint Echo was precariously positioned on the very edge of the Glowing Sea. Danse felt a fair amount of trepidation as he and Knight Vega approached the area after they disembarked the vertibird. He had never ventured into the Glowing Sea, but he supposed there was no time like the present.

  He was glad to at least find a familiar face, although Haylen didn't appear happy to see him and Vega. The scribe looked tense, wary. Danse supposed he could understand that; the post was much less than favorably placed. They were only just outside the heavy haze of radiation, and the radstorms weren't inclined to remain stationary for too long. To say nothing of the deadly creatures that tended to emerge from the area and wander north. Waypoint Echo was not a hospitable assignment by any stretch of the imagination. 

  His scribe had never searched for the easy jobs. Danse felt a wave of pride for the woman he had sponsored back when she was nothing but an initiate. Haylen had rolled with the punches and become an admirable scribe, a loyal friend and an incredible asset to any team she joined. "Scribe Haylen!" He greeted her warmly with a salute. "Ad Victoriam. Another day, another assignment."

  "Paladin Danse," Haylen addressed him through gritted teeth, oddly not returning his salute. "Can I get a word with you before you depart? It's urgent." She was already grabbing his arm before he even nodded, the scribe leading him away from the camp. Knight Vega was listening intently while the other field scribe briefed her on their current situation and any observations they might have made.

  "Scribe Haylen, is something amiss?" The paladin asked, a little concerned once Haylen had moved him out of earshot of the encampment. 

  The petite woman whirled on him, looking more furious than Danse had ever seen her. " How could you not tell me?" She hissed. 

  Danse stared at her, bewildered. "I...what do you mean, Haylen?"

  "Don't play dumb with me, Danse! Quinlan got the list decoded. He knows . Maxson knows. Hell, maybe even Vega knows! Maybe she's leading you into a trap right now." Haylen took hold of his gauntlet once more. "Danse, you have to run ."

  "Haylen, I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." Danse replied, thoroughly puzzled. What would Quinlan decoding the Institute information have to do with him?  

  Haylen's fingernails scraped at the worn red-orange paint denoting his rank as she gripped down even tighter. "Danse, you...do you really not…" she appeared to be trying to ask something, but couldn't seem to amass the words.

  "Take your time. Get your mind straight." Danse said kindly. "Whatever it is, I'll hear you out."

  She sobbed suddenly, her small frame rattled by the outburst. "Oh Danse , I'm so sorry." She whispered.

  …

  Backhand lingered on the edge of the camp, half-watching Haylen appear to argue with the paladin about something. Trouble in paradise? she wondered, turning the distress pulser for their endeavor over in her hands before she tucked it away in her satchel. 

  "Man, I guess whatever Rhys passed along to her earlier really has her in a twist." One of the other scribes commented. "I dunno' if I've ever seen her this heated."

  Danse thundered back towards the camp, leaving Haylen to call his name plaintively. "Ready to continue our mission, soldier?" He gritted the words out at Backhand. 

  Backhand raised an eyebrow at his sudden change of mood, but then recalled what she had interrupted earlier that morning and reasoned that he had more than every right to be a little testy. The woman simply nodded and fell into step behind him. "See you guys soon!" She said to the soldiers occupying Echo, waving in farewell. Haylen didn't wave back, the scribe looking wholly dejected. 

  Was she crying?

  "Hey Danse, is Haylen alright? She seemed upset." Backhand inquired after they had been walking for several minutes.

  "We had a discussion." was all Danse said in reply. His tone didn't exactly encourage further questioning, so Backhand decided that she should probably, maybe , just this once, not attempt to converse.

  "Sorry, didn't mean to pry." She mumbled. 

  "I'm certain you didn't. But we can't afford to be distracted on this mission." Danse instructed firmly. "There's too much at stake, Knight Vega."

  "Oh, absolutely!" Backhand agreed. 

  "I need you to take point during this engagement, as you're the one who knows where we're going." Danse paused, letting her come up alongside him. "We can't lose sight of what's important. If we do, the Institute has already won." 

  The paladin, in spite of his words, seemed out of sorts. Spacey , even. His grip on his rifle was uncharacteristically slack, especially considering how hostile their environment was. 

  Backhand was reminded of his behavior during their search for Brandis and she said as much, prodding the paladin to respond. "I'm fine. Just...thinking," he muttered. "I apologize, I'm not very good at following my own orders. I lecture you on distraction while also being distracted."

  "After this campaign is over, I vote for a little R and R. The proverbial run ashore. Sound good to you?" Backhand asked, tilting her head.

  Danse cleared his throat. "I wish I had your optimism." He said plainly. "Once the Institute hears we have these munitions, assuming the bombs are even here in the first place, it will be all-out war. I'm not so foolish to think they'll surrender or melt back into the shadows under the threat of our superior firepower. They will demand a live test." The paladin gestured vaguely around him at the blasted landscape. "I know for a fact that Maxson won't stop until the Institute is nothing but a fractured husk. The idea that there are innocent people down there, good people who will be slaughtered with the bad…" He shook his head. 

  "It's sobering." Backhand murmured in agreement, not sure why she was surprised by the paladin's display of humanity. She had been in and out of the Institute over the last few weeks, building a rapport with the various scientists and synths and also passing along pertinent information to the Brotherhood. All the while Shaun pressured her to take over his position, " before I am gone, Mother. " She hadn't known that Danse was actually listening to her field reports.

  "It's grotesque entrapment. People who wanted a better life, people who wanted to help the world, people who thought they were helping." Danse sounded disgusted and strangely upset. "Bodies snatched in the middle of the night, or lured in by the lie of bettering mankind!" He had turned to her as he ranted, his pauldrons rising and falling rapidly from the force of his body against the frame of his armor. "He's your son , Vega, how could he--"

  "He's not my son anymore." Backhand cut him off, stung by his heated words. "The man who leads the Institute may be related to me through biology, but he is not my son, Paladin Danse." She heaved a sigh, looking away. "I guess he really never was, in a way. His father...his father told me he wanted children. Once I got pregnant, though, it was like the reality of it became too much for him." Her laugh was a sad noise, mirthless and hollow. "And if he thought it was too much, imagine how I felt. I didn't really have a lot of agency in the matter, I just wanted to make him happy and when I realized that not even that could make him happy, I kind of lost it. Hence the divorce and stuff. I loved that baby more than anything in the world, but I know that I wasn't a great mom. I was in way over my head. Scared. Terrified . Alone. And then...then he was taken from me. Just like that."

  "Knight Vega, I...forgive my outburst, please. I didn't mean to imply that any of this is your fault." Danse mumbled. "I simply...I-I mean, I see you, the way you interact with the people of the Commonwealth, and I can't wrap my head around the fact that someone even tangentially related to you could be capable of such...heinous machinations."

  "I'm a byproduct of the Great War, Paladin Danse." Backhand smiled thinly. "A relic from times of pretend plenty. The Institute raised Shaun, shaped him into their perfect leader. He doesn't understand the struggles of the real world. He can't understand the ugliness of war, not like how someone who lived through it can." 

  "You would think the perfect leader would want what's best for his troops." Danse remarked.

  "He's dying , Danse. The only reason he thawed me out again is because he's dying, and the Institute wanted me to take over." Backhand confided, scoffing a little. "Can you even believe that shit? His board of directors really thought my altruistic, bleeding-heart ass would take over their body-snatching extravaganza. Hell, they seem confused every time I tell them to fuck off."

  "You turned them down?" 

  The bewilderment in his tone caught Backhand by surprise. " Yeah , Danse. Obviously."

  "The promise of returning the Commonwealth to its former glory wasn't enough to sway you?" The paladin queried, his voice laden with that rare sarcasm he employed. 

  Backhand chuckled wryly. "Did you forget the part where I've seen the Commonwealth at the peak of that former glory? It wasn't better. It was just a little less irradiated." She thumped her pauldron against his own after a moment. "Hey, I'm with you, okay? No matter what happens, we'll get through this and enjoy that sweet off-time." She promised. "I know you can't see, but I'm definitely smiling under here."

  "I can tell." Danse lapsed into contemplative silence, and Backhand wished she could see his expression. Something, anything to clue her in as to what he was thinking about. 

  They passed a crashed plane, the trail of wreckage from it extending well past Backhand's limited field of view. Danse tuned into its distress signal like a reflex, and Backhand half-listened to the mayday broadcast of Skylanes one-six-six-five. 

  "... left engine failure, we're out fifteen three at this time …"

  The plane had been coming in the day the bombs dropped. Due to its location in the Glowing Sea, Backhand could only assume no one had survived. She almost wanted to ask Danse to turn off the broadcast, but the signal quickly petered back out into static as they carefully descended the ridge past the plane.

  The shattered remains of sparse buildings jutted from the caustic ground like the incisors of a gargantuan beast, offering a semblance of shelter only to roving feral ghouls or ambitious mole rats.

  It was a man-made hellscape, awe inspiring in its grim misery, and Backhand felt like she understood Danse's taciturn mood a bit better now.

  Abruptly, a towering monolith was brought into sharp contrast against the green sky by a sullen flash of lightning. Backhand swallowed, unnerved by the stark stone structure that loomed up out of the wan light like a dark pyramid to a forgotten, terrible deity.

  She tried to shake off her fanciful thoughts, scolding herself for being so easily influenced. This wasn't some silly story, some maniac rumination on the subject of doomed expeditions and places where man shouldn't go. This was just one more thing that humanity had built.

  "And here we are." She announced needlessly. "You ready?"

  "My power armor is within nominal parameters, so I would say I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Danse replied simply. 

  Working together, they muscled the double doors open and cautiously made their way into the pyramid-like structure. Backhand grimaced at the bank vault-esque door that greeted them, raising an eyebrow and cocking her helmet at Danse. "I'll bet...fifty caps that I can just give this a spin and it'll bust wide open." She said confidently, resting a gauntlet on the handle.

  "Nice try, Vega." The paladin replied, his tone dry and humorless. "Don't forget we have a job to do."

  Vega grumbled to herself and spun the handle, watching the ancient tumblers creak and separate before the door slowly swung inwards. "Bingo." She breathed, stepping gingerly out onto the old catwalk. "Shit, it looks like ArcJet in here."

  "Remarkably similar." Danse agreed. "Be very cautious about what you shoot in here, we don't know what will explode. And remember to check your corners. I don't want to lose you to something we don't see." 

  Backhand swallowed hard, saluting while inclining her head to indicate that she received and returned the order. "Ad Victoriam, Paladin Danse."

  "Ad Victoriam, Knight Vega." 

  Silence hanging heavy in the air, Vega plodded down the rickety stairs of the catwalk. She briefly debated just hopping the railing and taking the plunge, but ultimately decided against it. The stiff gusts of wind from the door had stirred the centuries of dust into a thick haze, and warning lights still spiraled in amber circles, casting disorienting shadows over everything.

  "It would appear that this facility was converted into a launching silo as well." Danse commented, gesturing at the large gantry-like structure that took up the majority of space in the middle of the pyramid. 

  Down, down, down they went, past multiple security doors. Feral ghouls rose to greet them, some still clad in the tattered remains of army fatigues. 

  "I've had nightmares like this." Backhand admitted during a brief moment of reprieve while she painstakingly tapped away at the keys of a terminal. "Sergeant Cathan and the rest of my squadron turn into ferals and I have to put them down." Danse's heavy gauntlet landed on her pauldron, squeezed once, and then departed. "I know it's dumb to be worried about. They've been dead for…" Vega trailed off, finally getting the double blast doors open and turning off the weakly buzzing alarm in the same stroke. " That's it." She said in relief. 

  Danse took point during this secondary half of the expedition, the paladin staying unusually quiet. Backhand chalked it up to him focusing more on his targets, lest a stray laser hit one of the caged warheads. 

  Down into the bowels of Prescott they trudged, soldiering onwards through tunnels made tight by the bulk of their power armor. The headlamp on Danse's new helmet illuminated the cramped, half-collapsed areas as he scanned from three to nine and back again.

  "Left up here." Backhand broke the silence, directing him through a hole in the wall to circumvent a rubble-filled dead end and then overtaking him when he paused to check his rifle. "We should still be able to pick up the tunnel around this junk."

  "Affirmative." Danse replied shortly. "I would advise that we not attempt to clear any debris. We don't know what will collapse on us."

  Vega grimaced, "good point. That's why you're the paladin." Oddly, he made a scoffing sound, but she dismissed it as him being sarcastic again.

  When the tunnel finally opened up into an enormous room, Vega breathed a little easier. Ahead of them loomed a massive set of red double doors, tarnished with age but still holding strong. What appeared to be a control room was situated over the doors, and Backhand quickly spotted the stairs that would lead her upwards.

  The body sprawled across the top of the stairs gave her pause, however. It wasn't a feral ghoul, but a Child Of Atom. Backhand glanced up to the door to the control room, then back down at the body. 

  Up. Down. Up again.

  And she continued over the body, one massive gauntlet knocking comically gentle on the door.

  "Enter." Intoned a voice from inside the room. Behind her, she heard Danse's rifle hum as he primed it.

  " Easy , cowboy. Let me see if I can get this settled peacefully." Backhand whispered. She had no idea whether Danse had heard her or not, but she prayed he had as she set sabaton into the room. 

  The Children Of Atom had always been a ragged-looking bunch, their lives dedicated to the pursuit of " the Glow " and worship of what they called " the Great Divide ". This man was no exception, though the room was also occupied by a turret and assaultron. Two things no one wanted to deal with in close quarters.

  "Halt, stranger. You stand upon Atom's sacred ground." The religious fanatic announced grandly. "Speak your business or be divided where you stand."

  Backhand mused over her reply for a moment, finally stating, "we seek the Glow of Atom, my uh, brother ."

  " You? " The man scoffed, "you, who slaughtered Atom's most faithful as you stormed this compound?"

  "We sought to release them to Atom's embrace. Return them to the universe to be...divided anew. After all, matter cannot be created or destroyed, only repurposed," Vega replied smoothly, "as dictated by the Law of Conservation of Mass, writ by his most holy eminence Antoine Lavoisier." 

  "Ah, I see you are a scholar of the sacred texts as well!" The man remarked, a smile crossing his stern features. "Forgive my ignorance, sister. When I saw your armor, I feared that you came to destroy this holy ground." Backhand blinked behind her helmet. That had been strictly high school science bullshit, but she would take the victory. "I assume you wish to bask in Atom's Glow then, as one of his faithful?"

  "We seek to spread Atom's glory via the use of these munitions." Backhand explained. "Our organization requires these vehicles to distribute Atom's might. Please, permit us to utilize them."

  "You will put them to good use? That is all we can ask for!" The Child Of Atom's eyes filled with tears of what Vega could only assume was gratitude. "I had thought we would stand guard over this holy ground for all of time. Please, take this and prepare to enter His inner sanctum." He took her gauntlet and pressed a scrap of paper into it, gesturing at the worn-looking terminal on the table beside the sputtering turret. "Follow the brilliance of the Glow, and it shall lead you to the relics. May Atom's radiance warm your soul." He breathed, those teary blue eyes focused on the visor of her helm. 

  Vega inclined her head respectfully, praying that Danse would stand aside and let the man depart without a fight. Clearly she needn't have worried; the paladin obligingly shifted the bulk of his armor out of the way so the religious zealot could leave the room peacefully. 

  "' His most holy eminence' ?" Danse repeated, his tone wry. "You certainly have a gift, Knight Vega." 

  Backhand grinned under her helmet, reading the password off the scrap of paper and then carefully punching it into the terminal. "What can I say? A little diplomacy and a healthy sprinkling of mumbo-jumbo goes a long way." With a simple keystroke, the massive doors creaked open. The woman bowed as best as she could in her armor. "Shall we?" 

  Danse appeared to have returned to his silence, simply nodding and walking back out of the room.

  What's gotten into him? Backhand wondered.

Part Thirteen

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #fallout fanfic #fallout fandom #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #Eventual romance #slow burn #spoilers #brotherhood of steel #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #fo4 paladin danse #paladin danse imagine #canon-typical violence

[reyescarlos]

4 for buddie pleaseee! love your writing so much!

I really appreciate that! I haven’t written in soooo long and have lowkey been too intimidated to write in this fandom, ha. But I’m really glad you’re digging it! 

#4. “holding everything in doesn’t help, you know?”

The first, most immediate thing Buck recognizes is the silence. The way it presses itself up against him, bumping uncomfortably and making a place for itself in his home.

All the elation he felt back at Bobby’s and Athena’s is practically washed clean now that he finds himself alone. Again. He figured by now he’d be used to it. How many other nights were spent just like this one?

His phone buzzes against the coffee table and for a moment Buck considers not answering it. But a quick glance at the screen makes his arm reach out before he’s even fully aware of what he’s doing.

“Hey,” he says.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks immediately in lieu of an actual greeting. Buck is brought up short, confused as to how a casual phrase like ‘hey’ could warrant such concern.

“Uh, nothing? Why?”

Buck can almost see the nonchalant shrug he’s certain Eddie must make on his end. “I don’t know. You just sounded off to me.”

Buck isn’t used to someone disarming him like this, especially when they aren’t even physically in the same room as him.

“Just tired, I guess,” Buck mumbles.

The line goes quiet long enough for Buck to pull the phone away to make sure the call is still active. Just as he’s about to call Eddie’s name, the man speaks up.

“Are you too tired for me to drop by?” he asks. Buck doesn’t particularly feel up for company right now but something in the hesitancy of Eddie’s voice makes him bite back the dismissal poised on his tongue.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you in a bit.” He ends the call and sucks in a deep breath, trying in vain to cleanse himself of the pissy mood he’s in but there’s far too much static in his head for it to be a success.

He tries to keep busy as he waits for Eddie but he can’t focus on tasks for long before his mind drifts back to the train wreck. How fitting, he thinks. Of course, his closure with Abby would come from catastrophe. The universe has a sick sense of humor and Buck doesn’t find it even remotely funny.

He’s pulled from his dark thoughts at the sound of Eddie knocking. He drags himself off the couch to let him in. Buck doesn’t know what to make of Eddie’s expression and the man on the other side of the threshold eyes him curiously too before Buck steps aside wordlessly to let him in. The air between them is charged and it makes the hairs on the back of Buck’s neck stand as they head into the kitchen. He’s seldom this peeved and he can already feel his anger is being misdirected.

“So…what’s up?” Buck asks, taking the initiative in breaking the stiff tension.

“I thought I’d check in on you. See how you were doing with everything.”

The word everything does a lot of heavy lifting but Buck knows well enough what Eddie’s truly getting at.

“I’m alright. I’ve had time to deal with all that Abby drama and I’m good. Thanks for asking,” he says. His tone is clipped and judging from the way Eddie’s eyes squint marginally, it’s not appreciated.

“You’ve been through a lot, man. I don’t think anyone would blame you for being angry. That was a hell of a bomb that got dropped on you. All I’m saying is that if you want to talk about it, actually talk, I’m here.”

The shift in his mood is instantaneous and Buck can’t the fiery wave that roils through him, clawing up out of his throat like an angry winged thing.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m mad? That I’m pissed off? What does that do? Who does that help?” Buck shouts, his hands trembling in fists at his sides.

Eddie stares at him for a moment, his eyes patient and calm. For some reason this irritates Buck even further. Normally Eddie is like a balm that can soothe even the orneriest of hurts but now he’s hitting far too close to something Buck would rather keep at bay.

“You,” Eddie says simply. “It helps you.”

It’s remarkable how one little, innocuous statement manages to take the wind right out of him. Buck relaxes his stance and looks away, unable to meet Eddie’s eyes. If there’s even a trace of pity in them, he won’t be able to bare the sight. This isn’t a version of himself that he wants anyone to see, never mind one of the closest people to him. He knows that Eddie wouldn’t judge. If there was ever a person he could let his guard down around it would be the man standing before him. But Buck can’t bring himself to it. Not right now.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m good,” Buck says after a moment, composed well enough to face Eddie full on.

“You sure about that?” It isn’t said as a challenge but it still feels like one to Buck. Is he good? If anything, this conversation is prodding at him and it’s evident Eddie doesn’t have any problems with calling him out.

“Why are you even asking me this?” Buck replies, switching tactics.

“I think it’s about time someone finally did. Look, I’m not trying to set you off,” Eddie says, leaning back against the counter. “I’m just trying to understand you better, that’s all. It’s okay to be mad. It’s even better to actually talk about it.”

Buck lets out something between a laugh and a scoff and shakes his head.

“There’s gonna come a time when you’ll need to let things out, Buck. Holding everything in…it doesn’t help, you know?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Buck reels in his thoughts. “I can’t go there right now,” he says, dropping his hand and looking back at Eddie. The man has been frozen in place this whole time as if one wrong move will set Buck off. He feels guilty for it and let’s go some of the tension in his shoulders.

“I appreciate what you’re doing, Eddie, but…I can’t.”

Eddie nods. “At least you’re admitting to feeling something. That’s a start,” he replies.

#anon #buddie fic #buddie fanfiction #911 #911 fanfic #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #kimmy writes #ask #message

[hells-angel]

Fan-girl

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 

Warning/s: ---

Summary: The reader is a fan of Captain America so Bucky brought her along to meet Steve.

a/n: if there's some wrong grammar or spelling, I'm sorry. I'm editing it on my phone so it's kinda hard to notice.

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Captain America” you mumbled beside Bucky as both of you rode the elevator up the Avengers tower.

“best friends” he corrected earning a chuckle from you.

"hey wait a minute" you called out towards Bucky before he can step off the elevator.

"what?"

"your Tie is a mess" you giggled as you fix his the before stepping out if the elevator followed by Bucky.

As usual, Tony had hosed another of his biggest parties after a successful mission, you're not an Avenger nor an agent of shield, rather you work for Stark as one of his assistant and that's how you and Bucky met.

He needed some repairs but Tony was busy woring on his army of iron suits, plus Tony was still not quite comfortable with Bucky after the Civil War between him and Steve.

befriending Bucky was easy, he was already a sweetheart but him opening up was the challenge, so while you help Bucky adjust into the modern world, he would share stories of his missions from time to time, and it helps that his friends with Captain America, to you Steve Rogers was a hero, your role model.

It was kinda funny how you almost met all the Avengers but never the infamous Captain America, it's just that every time you were on the tower, Steve would be on a mission or when Steve would visit the tower you're away on another country or something.

So when your eyes landed on his big built among the large crowd, sticking out like a huge thumb on a hay, you can't help but fan girl.

“it’s freaking Captain America” you breath in admiration as you unconsciously hit Bucky on the arm.

He shake his head at your astonishment and gently ushered you towards the said man.

“Steve” Bucky greeted a wide grin on his face while you stay beside him, admiring the Avenger, you heard so much about in front of you.

“how you doing Buck?” Steve greeted back as he pat him on the arm.

“good” 

“I see you brought some company” Steve said as his eyes landed on you, snapping you back to reality. You furiously wipe your palm on your dress before offering it to him.

“hi, I’m Y/n, I’m such a huge fan. I mean ever since I was a kid, instead of fairy tales my grand parents told me stories about you. it’s such an honor to finally meet you”

Despite spewing off stories after stories, Steve smiled sweetly at you and shook your extended hands “the pleasure's mine, maam” 

You swore you were ready to die, you had always admired Captain America and seeing him in person and officially greeting him was on another level of achievement in life.

You turned to Bucky and smiled so brightly at him, your mouth agape as you showed him your hand that Captain America had touch. Bucky swore your eyes had shine the brightest right now.

"is it alright if I asked for your autograph?"

"sure"

You once again turn to face Buck, a look if disbeleif on your face as if you can't believe if what's happening is real or not, Bucky just watched you amusely.

"I have a ton of stuff you need signing"

You were ready to fan-girl once again but someone had called you from another group of crowd. You internally sigh but still smiled outside.

“excuse me for a minute”  you excused yourself, flashing a smile towards Steve but a bigger smile towards Bucky.

“his such a gentleman” you whispered to Bucky before walking away.

“I slightly regret introducing her to you” Bucky joked as soon as you were an ear shot away, his eyes never leaving your form, while you converse to Tony's associates.

“protective already?” Steve grinned watching his friend get love struck over you.

Bucky trained his eyes at you for a minute, making sure you'll be fine before finally glancing back at Steve who was grinning from ear to ear.

“she’s not someone you let go“ Bucky fondly muttered, causing Steve to genuinely smile at his friend. He knew how much Bucky had suffered and it was nice to see his best friend finally have the happiness he deserve.

“I’m happy for you Bucky”

“its too early to celebrate, have to get the girl first, right” Bucky said placing a hand at Steve's shoulder before making his way towards you.

"go for it, buddy"

#marvel #avengers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #Steve #Avengers Bucky x reader

[sugarfreecapsicle]

study buddy

bucky barnes x reader

Prompts: college!au (1.5k constellation writing challenge by @sunmoonandbucky); fake dating!au & unplanned bed sharing trope (star’s multi-fandom follower celebration by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan )

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit of pining, lots of awkward interaction, fluff!!!!

Wordcount: 2k-ish

A/N: oh my god, y’all, I can’t believe two of my favorites have challenges going on at the same time. I’m so honored to call them both friends - both are phenomenal writers in their own right and I am always floored by their respective work. I love the both of your oh so dearly and am so happy you’ve reached such important milestones! You deserve every happiness, and I hope this fic can bring you just a little of that.

Gif Credit (x)

Assigned seating did not end in grade school. The nightmare of desk dictatorship held strong in Fury’s classroom - a man of simple rules and unquestioned respect for his time. Your research into your professors via many forums and sites like RateMyProfessor did not alert you to the nightmare of obeying his law to the letter.

“If I were sorry about my decision, I’d apologize, but I’ve always been an honest man. You chose your seat, you chose your partner, and you chose to break up. That’s a personal problem to solve on personal time. Not mine. See you next class.”

Your conversation on the phone with Wanda and Maria definitely didn’t help lift your mood. Wanda, empathetic and full of irrational resolutions like falsifying a restraining order. Maria, ever practical and smug with her I-told-you-so attitude.

“I don’t know what else you expected from Fury of all people,” Maria chuckled before biting into an apple slice. “Even if he thinks Brock is an asshole, he won’t make an exception without something dire on the line.”

“Maybe you can just switch classes? I’m pretty sure there’s an opening in-” “Wanda, I love you, but I can’t switch classes two weeks from finals.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeeze your eyes shut in the afternoon sun. “I’ll just...I’ll just handle this as gracefully as I can.”

“Godspeed,” Maria deadpans before dropping the call.

“Y’know, I didn’t want to have to resort to this,” Wanda’s trepidation fueled your oncoming tension migraine, “but maybe it’s time to call in your favor with Bucky.”

Your heart drops somewhere on the pigeon-shit sidewalk.

“Wanda....I think you might be right.”

The saying goes that once you’ve hit rock bottom there’s nowhere to go but upward. If calling in a favor to your freshman year crush turned campus heartbreaker didn’t qualify, you didn’t want to find out where bedrock truly could be.

You shouldn’t be surprised to find a technology major in the library swamped with work on a Tuesday, but when that student is James Buchannan Barnes, it’s worthy of flipping the world ass over teakettle. Dashing as ever, stormy eyes, chestnut hair combed just so. Your backpack thuds on the floor beneath the co-op table, and his eyes find you.

“Hey, stranger,” he murmurs with an impossibly charming smile that lights his entire face. “Where have you been since August?”

Fighting a smile around Bucky is futile, so you let a grin appear. “Unfortunately dating Brock and sitting next to him in Fury’s class.”

His smile pulls into a tight wince as you take your seat across from him and retrieve your laptop from your bag.

“I don’t envy you.” Bucky waves and nods briefly at another student passing by behind you, and you turn to notice it’s a shapely redhead you recall from last semester’s art history class. “He won’t budge without legal documentation at best.”

Your fingers twist and curl together in nonsensical patterns in your lap. “Well, I was hoping to get Brock off my case, actually.”

Bucky doesn’t respond more than raised eyebrows and startled blinking. 

“Would...could you be my fake boyfriend long enough to convince Brock we aren’t getting back together?” It comes out all rushed and nervous, syllables running together like a skittering mouse across the kitchen floor. Your heart hammers against your chest, determined to break free of your body every second Bucky stalls his reply. You can’t read him - he’s still leaned back in dumbfounded silence. 

At long last he leans in, hands steeple between the two of you, calculating gleam in his eye. “If you’ll help me figure out how to pass this English Lit final, I’ll actually date you.” 

You both laugh quietly, minding the nearby staff eyeing your space at the table. Pink tinges your cheeks dangerously beyond mere flattery. 

“Let’s just agree to fake dating for now, and we’ll see if you can still stand to share space with me after a few weeks.”

“Deal.” Bucky extends his hand, you grasp it and shake to your agreement. Your fingers reluctantly move to let go, but Bucky holds firm and pulls the back of your hand to his smirking lips. “Whatever you need, darlin’.”

Days later you’re still tingling from his public affection in the library. Could you have been imagining the color shift in his eyes when he peered over your hand or was it purely fantasy? Lack of caffeine, mental fixation from stress - more likely than any truth to how deeply in character he seemed to be already.

Bucky escorts you to your classes with his fingers threading yours, a hand at the small of your back, an arm flung around your shoulders. He’s in your ear, whispering jokes and delicious plans for the rest of your time together, kissing your forehead or your cheek when you reach the door. Keeping your arrangement from Wanda and Maria could only be explained by the stress of impending finals, and you’d managed to avoid inevitable party and holiday invitations. If nothing else, this pretending made the idea of being near Brock again less intimidating.

Fury Friday arrived sooner than you’d felt it should, and as set in precedent, Bucky strolls next to you with his hand in yours, beaming and chatting about how he’d managed to bring his scores up enough in Statistics to earn a pass on his final and thereby free up his weekend. Dread skirted in your lungs, a distant siren’s call to your sense of reason as the reality of sitting next to Brock for two hours pressed upon you. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or are you gonna keep me guessing?”

He’s too good at this, and Bucky has to know it. “Sorry, I...am not looking forward to this.”

“I can’t think of anyone that looks forward to a Fury class to be fair,” he laughs breathily and puts a soothing hand to your waist. A kiss lingers on your forehead, and Bucky’s spicy cologne takes over your senses in a tight embrace. “Especially with Rumlow as your seatmate.”

His whispered acknowledgment makes your whole body shiver, and he responds with a few brushes over your arms and back to stir away the obvious chilled gust of wind that’s painted your cheeks pink again.

“Knock ‘em dead, killer,” he teases with a single knuckle against your chin. Bucky’s nose brushes just barely against yours, and then he’s dashing down the hallway with a wave over his shoulder. It dawns on you as you take your seat - your neighbor pleasantly absent - that Bucky could be sacrificing too much for a fake relationship, for your sake. Brock could be all bark and no bite, but a small part of you felt he could be a breath away from snapping. Others are milling about the room, so you pull your phone out and send Bucky a text. The little heart next to his name stings somewhere deep in your chest.

You’re not missing classes just to walk me to and from, right?

Your laptop is open and ready to go, humming to life while you bend beneath the elongated desks to make sure you could plug into an outlet if need be. The buzz of a reply sends you hurtling into the composite tabletop, a loud thud followed by tittering giggles around the filling room.

Brock is glaring down at you and your phone screen, mouth in a thin line, eyebrows knitted together. You don’t say a word to him and try to keep his prying eyes from your screen.

Not missing, exactly, but cutting it close. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.

“Didn’t take you long to hop on someone else’s dick, did it?”

His voice churns in your stomach, but you don’t acknowledge him. Had this been any other class but Fury’s you could put in earbuds and block him out. Brock’s eyes are on you, or at least the cold sweat chilling the back of your neck makes you think as much, and he’s seething, boring holes into your form. For two hours. For an entire Fury lecture.

Your shoe catches one of the rear legs of his chair, but you can’t bother to turn around and apologize - not like the seat budged under the star athlete. Bucky grins as you exit through the wide double doors, moves to wrap an arm around you, and you pull him by his jacket to your lips. You’re lost in his cologne, the feel if his mouth on yours, his body heat against the biting December cold. There’s a hum, something of a moan quiet enough to feel and dream of hearing - and you can’t be sure if it came from you or Bucky. With a dizzied wobble, you’re separated and Bucky’s eyes are still closed, arms cocooning you against his form.

“Hey,” he chuckles, voice deep and husky, the grin tugging at the right corner of his mouth.

“Hi,” you’re just as breathy and more than a little wanting. “Ready for the weekend?”

______________________________________

Friday night passes without a mention of the kiss.

The entirety of Saturday passes, and no mention of the kiss.

And it’s all you can think about. Forget studying for finals, forget meal prepping for the guaranteed necessity of pre-made lunches and dinners. That kiss.

You’d caught him off guard, but he didn’t hesitate to respond hungrily. Bucky tasted of honeyed tea and cinnamon chewing gum, carried the warmth of summer sun beneath his jacket. You hadn’t considered prior to the rash decision to just fucking kiss him that your senses would swim in his aftershave, his sheer proximity, the comfort of him. For you, Bucky had never been so tangible.  

Truthfully, Bucky had never been tangible for anyone - notorious campus-wide for gracefully bowing out of invitations for dates, one night stands even. People of course talked, spread rumors that he had to be dating a professor in secret, that he had a long distance relationship with a supermodel overseas. 

Until that kiss two days ago.

Bucky arranged for time to cram for his English Lit final with you tonight in his apartment, more for the convenience of avoiding scorned women at every corner of your dorm than anything else. He did have more space, privacy and faster internet than the supplied campus Wi-Fi. 

Is it appropriate to bring wine to a study session or is that strictly for dinner parties? Maybe some appetizers? Seven o’clock on a Sunday night typically meant binging as many football games as anyone could consume, especially in a college town. 

You’re buzzed up to this apartment, cream puffs in hand, and freeze when Steve opens the door to a living room full of people in various coordination of navy and ivory. The tall blonde ushers you in and sweeps your dessert out of your hands before you can locate your study buddy.

“Buck’s in his room,” Steve offers with some mischief. “Says he needs to pass this final, so he’s passing on the game night.”

It’s easy enough to figure out which room with a shut door is Bucky’s when Sam walks out of the bathroom and immediately checks the score on his phone (the space around the smaller television is too busy to see). You knock, probably a little too lightly at first, but the second set of taps nearly clock Bucky’s throat.

He’s beaming, cheeks flushed, smile wide - like a smitten kid. His electric touch pulls you into his bedroom already scattered with his scrawlings and textbooks. The door barely provides enough sound protection from the party for you to feel comfortable at attempting to concentrate.

“I really thought Steve had an away game this weekend, but I hadn’t thought about having a bye week for finals -” Bucky stops, feet strategically between loose paper and dog-eared texts. And god, he’s looking at you like that again and you can’t breathe. 

Suddenly you understand the gravity of your feelings, and your mouth goes dry.

This isn’t fake for you. Not anymore.

“Really, I’m glad you still wanted to help me out.” Bucky’s sincere, permanently grinning as he’s rearranging his chaotic floorspace to make room for you. You swallow hard as you eye the sliver of skin between his sweater and his lounge pants, the well-loved hoodie pooling around his middle as he bends from his hips. When he’s upright and inviting you to settle in, you decide that professionalism has to outweigh your own personal crisis - think like Fury.

Hours later, the two of your are in a shambles - Bucky insisted you change into a pair of his sweats and a tee shirt in the event of an all nighter, you’d made a run for fast food, and your eyes can hardly stay open long enough to fact-check Bucky’s recitation. 

“I think maybe we should call it a night,” he yawns, interrupting his monologue. You nod mutely and move to get up when Bucky catches your arm. “Uh, I mean, you could...you could stay.”

You shouldn’t, though, for reasons Bucky doesn’t know - but he has an excellent argument: you’re in no shape to get yourself home and with the party still going strong outside his bedroom there’s no way he can drive you home. 

Bucky helps you get to your feet and smooths his hands over your shoulders. “Scout honor, no funny business. They’ll all crash on top of each other in the living room and Steve’s room. You’d at least have a little more space in here. I’ll take the floor -” 

“Absolutely not, Bucky Barnes.” Your tone even surprises you; the Fury switch quickly dissipates. “I mean, I can’t in good conscience let you do that, it’s your room. We can...we can just share, if you don’t mind -”

“Not at all.” Maybe it’s your drowsiness but he seems eager. “Just washed the sheets anyway, and the blanket’s something Mom and Gran quilted for me as a kid.”

Soft cotton and jersey envelop your aching muscles, and a betraying moan of contentment escapes you when Bucky curls into bed next to you. He’s warm, a furnace beneath the covers, haven from the biting cold. 

His stubble, still unshaven from Friday, borders on scruff and tickles your forehead. Hands ease over your back, tentative, hesitant. You can’t deny him and certainly can’t deny yourself this moment. 

“Darlin’?”

He’s whisper soft, cotton candy words prickling against your skin. You hum and his hands still against your shirt.

“Wasn’t kidding about actually dating you, y’know. If you want to take up the offer-”

Your fingers are on his lips, you crane your body to get a better look at his beautiful, tired face. 

“Ask me again in the morning, Buck. After coffee. So I know this isn’t delirium.”

He sighs and presses a tired smile into your forehead. “Whatever you need, darlin’.”

#1.5kconstellationswritingchallenge #star's multi fandom follower celebration #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky imagine #bucky drabble #my fic

[lordsister]

No Hands (Ray Blackwell x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Pairing: Ray Blackwell x Reader

Prompt: “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.”

Warning: None! Some lightly implied nsfw, but mostly fluff.

Intended Audience: Female audience, but can be read as gender neutral.

Word Count: 2,739

Requested by: @littlelady-blackwell​ (Hope you enjoy it!! Sorry it took me so long to finish!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Revolution or any of its characters. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not reblog or repost my works on any other website.

A/N: This was from my 500 watchers request celebration. Can’t believe it’s taken me this long to finish it.

       You awoke to the sound of birdsong and the feel of calloused fingers stroking your cheek. Keeping your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to linger on the verge of sleep, hanging there as your lover’s fingers sparked warmth beneath your skin. Every brush up and down over your cheek was a message of endearment - “You’re beautiful,” “I treasure you,” “I love you.” It was Ray’s particular, wordless way of expressing his affection. 

       Heartbeats passed like that, lazy seconds drifting by until his husky voice whispered in your ear, “We should get up.”

       “Mmm, just a little while longer,” you murmured back, turning and snuggling into his chest. “It feels so nice.”

       His deep chuckle made your lazy grin grow a little wider. “We’re already late as it is, but you want to stay in bed?”

       “We’re late?!” Your eyes flew open and you jolted upright, turning your horrified expression on Ray as you struggled to extract yourself from his arms. “Ray! Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!”

       A cocky, happy smile spread across his handsome face as he fell back on the bed, laughing. “How could I when you looked so cute, saying my name in your sleep.” The smirk he gave you was more than enough to make you blush.

       “I-I was not!” you stuttered, turning away to rummage for fresh clothes in the dresser.

       A second later arms wrapped around your waist and warm breath tickled your ear as Ray rested his chin on your shoulder. “Did too,” he chuckled, bringing more heat to your cheeks. “And I loved every bit of it.”

       You were tempted to turn around and kiss the living daylights out of your smirking lover, but he had already moved away before you could, chuckling as he disappeared into the bathroom. Pressing your hands to your face, you took a deep breath and tried to dispel the flustered feeling. He was going to be the death of you at this rate.

       With a final shake of your head, you grabbed some clean clothes and dressed quickly, running a brush through your hair a few times before dashing out the door and down the hall. If Ray wanted to make the both of you late, then you weren’t going to wait up for him.

       “Alice! I thought we were going to have to send someone to wake you and Ray up!” Seth exclaimed the moment you entered the dining hall.

       “Sorry!” you answered with an apologetic smile. “Ray’s fault.” Grabbing a couple of plates, you loaded them with what was left from the breakfast spread, one for you and one for your lover. Just because he had made the both of you late didn’t mean he should miss out on eating, especially since he had considerably more work than you did.

       Greeting the rest of the Black Army officers, you pulled out a chair at the table, but before you could take a seat familiar hands grasped your sides. Squeaking and jumping, your hands just barely maintained their grasp on the plates as the grip on your abdomen shifted, arms wrapping around your waist.

       “Ray!” you gasped, giving him a half-hearted glare over your shoulder.

       “Yes?” he responded innocently, sparkling green eyes blinking back at you. All you could do was grumble as he smacked a kiss to your cheek, blushing under the gazes of the others seated at the table.

       “You two are so touchy-feely,” Luka muttered and averted his gaze to the remaining eggs on his plate, his cheeks a light pink color as he chased them around with his fork.

       “You can say that again,” Fenrir added, his tone teasing and mischievous as he winked at his best friend still twined around you. 

       “I think it’s nice,” Sirius chuckled into his coffee.

       “I didn’t think we were that affectionate…” Despite the others being there, you couldn’t deny how good Ray’s embrace felt, how it made your heart flutter no matter how many times he held you. A part of you was disappointed when he let go with another quick kiss to your jaw and sat down beside you, thanking you for the plate through a mouthful of buttered toast. 

       Your thoughts were interrupted by a hum from Seth, the bluenette man raising a hand to his chin thoughtfully as his eyes narrowed. You knew that look - the look that solemnly said he was up to no good.

       “Seth? What is it?”

       “Oh, not much~,” he mused, but his growing smile said otherwise. “What do you say to a little challenge?”

       Warning bells went off in your head. Sure, it was Seth who was offering the challenge, but then again it was Seth. You never knew what he was going to come up with. “What kind of challenge?” you questioned, one brow raised curiously.

       Waving away your suspicion, he said, “Trust me, it’s nothing so bad, dear Alice.” Clapping his hands together in eager finality, he continued, “Since our king and Alice have such a hands-on relationship, how about a no hands challenge?”

       “I don’t like the sound of that,” Ray sighed, echoing your own thoughts.

       “What do you mean by ‘no hands’?” Luka asked as he stood and began to gather the empty dishes. 

       “For the next...let’s say five days, neither of them are allowed to touch each other using their hands. Doesn’t it sound fu-”

       “No,” Ray cut him off, his tone short.

       “Eh??? What do you mean, no?” Seth whined with a pout.

       “No,” he repeated. “It doesn’t sound like fun to me. I don’t want to do it.”

       “You’re being unreasonable!”

       “No.”

       “Oh, come on, buddy! Why not give it a try?” Fenrir encouraged, trotting over to give his best friend a light smack on the shoulder. “Sirius, Luka, what do you think?”

       “Mmm, it couldn’t hurt, could it? Who knows, the two of you might actually have fun with it,” Sirius commented, his smile amused in the face of Ray’s glare.

       “It doesn’t really concern us, but I guess you can do what you want,” Luka added, looking a little uncomfortable and confused as he finished cleaning up the breakfast mess. 

       “All of you…” Ray groaned, turning his gaze on you. “What do you think? Do you want to do it?”

       A teasing smirk not unlike his own slid into place on your lips, your eyes narrowing just a little in mischief. “I think it sounds fun. What about you? Don’t think you can keep your hands off me for five days?”

       Something hot sparked in his eyes, something you were very familiar with. “I think the real problem is whether you can keep your hands off of me. Three days.”

       “Deal.” Standing and spinning on your heel, you grabbed your empty plate in one hand and a stack of dirty dishes in the other before following Luka into the kitchen, giving your boyfriend a wink as you went.

       “Yay~! I can’t wait to see how this goes!” Seth squealed happily, even as his king slumped into his chair with a tired sigh. 

       Moving to his side, Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Hang in there, fearless leader.”

       Ray just groaned, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “I may not survive the next few days, Sirius.”

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       The next time you saw your lover was when you took him some paperwork from Sirius. One would think that would be a simple task, no contact required, but from the moment you opened the door to his office you could tell Ray wasn’t going to make this easy for you.

       The air was thick with passionate tension, green eyes hot as they scorched over your form. Unable to look away from him, you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up in a hint of a playful smirk. Swallowing the sudden thickness in your throat, you tried to speak but had to stop and cough when all that came out was a whisper. “I-I have some papers for you from Sirius.”

       Ray hummed and leaned back in his chair, a come hither expression on his handsome face. He wasn’t being fair and he knew it. “Let’s see it then.”

       The atmosphere grew thicker with each step closer, your heart beating faster and faster until you were sure he could hear it. As he reached for the papers, his hand came so close to brushing your own you let go and jumped back, holding your hand to your chest. “No hands, remember?”

       “Oh, I remember.” Standing, he approached until he was as close as he could be without actually touching you. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “But the object of the challenge is trying to get the other person to lose, isn’t it?”

       Your jaw dropped and you blinked up at him with wide eyes as he laughed and leaned close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes and the thick lashes rimming those gorgeous orbs. Why were you surprised that he had figured out a way to turn this situation in his favor?

       One of his hands reached up, his fingers nearing your bottom lip, before he seemed to remember the situation and his hand came to hover a mere few centimeters away from your face. “I don’t like this challenge at all, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it as much as possible.” His voice dropped, deep and husky, as he continued, “I wonder how long it’ll take before you give in?”

       “D-Don’t hold your breath,” you choked, cursing the tremble in your voice. Forcing yourself to take a step away from him, you swallowed and tried to regain what was left of your composure, fisting your hands at your sides. “I’m going to win this. Just you wait.”

       His smirk didn’t drop a bit, amusement joining the heat in his gaze. “I look forward to it.”

       “Good!” Turning on your heel, you swept out of his office without another word, trying in vain to wish the awkwardness away. There was no way you could allow yourself to lose now, no matter how tempting it was.

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       The next day was the same way - Ray trying to make you give in with caressing looks and loving words whispered a hairsbreadth from your ear. He didn’t hold back in the slightest, sending you heated looks over the table during breakfast even with the presence of the other Black Army officers.

       There was one big difference, however. You weren’t holding back either. Every look and word was met in kind with just as much passion and love. 

       You had realized something the night before, as you tried to find sleep in your own room without Ray beside you, you realized something. Two could play at his game. If he wasn’t going to make this either for you, then you were going to do the same for him.

       “Are you sure this was a good idea, Seth?” Sirius murmured to the other man as they watched the blatant flirting continue. “Luka’s turning redder than the tomatoes.”

       Seth just chuckled, his eyes glinting. “What are you talking about, Sirius? I think it’s brilliant. You’re not enjoying the PDA?”

       “I almost want to lock them in a closet together just to end it,” the older man grumbled.

       They continued watching as you reached for one of the ladling spoons only to have Ray reach for it as well, his hand narrowly missing yours as it gripped the handle a little further up. Your eyes met his, both holding on to the spoon and daring the other to let go first.

       “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to hold my hand just now,” you mused, grinning.

       “I could say the same of you,” Ray smirked back, finally relinquishing the ladle to you.

       If you and Ray hadn’t been so focused on each other, you probably would have heard Sirius’ eye roll.

       The rest of the challenge brought similar events, though both you and Ray seemed to rev up your game, each move around each other riskier than the last. It seemed both of you were fully into the challenge now, neither wanting to lose.

       Whenever you passed each other in the hallway, he would move closer, threatening to brush against you. You wouldn’t back down though, walking closer to him as you greeted him. Your fingers would twitch at your side, inviting him to take the bait. For someone who often showed his affection silently, through actions or touch, it was becoming increasingly harder for Ray to resist.

       Your battle ended on the third and final day, when Ray finally managed to push you over the edge...or so he’d thought.

       He’d been out on patrol with Fenrir when he’d had to save a cat stuck in a river. As such, he was soaked when he got back to headquarters. He hadn’t meant to walk in on you in the middle of cleaning his room while wearing a now transparent white button-down, his hair still dripping and his pants clinging to his legs. But hey! Who was he to complain when he saw you freeze, your eyes taking every inch of him in while your cheeks turned a becoming shade of red. 

       He caught the way your hands tightened on your feather duster and his trademark smirk pulled at the corners of his lips. 

       “Why are you wet?” you asked softly, averting your eyes.

       Reaching up to run a hand through his damp hair, he pulled the door closed. “Had to jump into a river to save a cat.”

       “Is the cat okay?” You knew it was a dumb thing to say, but your brain was short-circuiting. 

       “You care more about the cat than your own boyfriend? How cruel,” he chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head. He could’ve unbuttoned it, but that wouldn’t have given you the same show. Left in pants that hung low on his hips, he caught you staring out of the corner of your eye.

       “Y-You know that’s not what I mean!” you gasped softly, turning away from him completely. “You’re such a tease.”

       Stalking over to you, he stood just close enough that you could feel the phantom warmth of him and murmured, “Am I?”

       He was surprised by how fast you were. One moment you were in front of him and the next you had him pinned against the wall, your blushing face inches from his as you stared into his eyes, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. 

       Ray couldn’t take it anymore. You were too cute not to kiss. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he closed what little space remained between your bodies and pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your little sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed kissing you until just now. His lips devoured yours desperately, hungrily. When you parted for air, he followed you, your soft call of his name cut off.

       When he finally did release you from his kiss, both of you were panting, foreheads pressed together as you tried to catch your breath. “I guess I win then?” he panted, pecking the corner of your mouth.

       “No,” you said simply, delighting in his surprised expression.

       He blinked. “No?”

       “I’m not touching you with my hands, am I?” Indeed you were not, your hands pressed flat to the wall on either side of him while his were firmly on your waist.

       “You…” Ray was speechless. He’d thought he’d had you there, but you’d been planning since the moment he’d walked in. “I can’t believe you found a loophole like that.”

       Kissing the tip of his nose, you giggled. “What can I say? It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong, love.”

       Laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest, and the next thing he knew his face was buried in your shoulder as his body heaved and tears streamed down his face. The whole situation was just so funny to him, he couldn’t help himself. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest; he was so incredibly happy just from you being you. “I lose. You’re just too good.”

       The moment he felt the touch of your hands on his bare skin, he tackled you to his bed, eager to make up for the three days of no contact.

#ikemen #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird #ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikemen revolution ray #ikerev ray #otome #otome x reader #ray blackwell x reader #no hands (ray blackwell x reader) #romance #fluff #ikerev ray x reader #ikemen x reader #ikemen fanfiction

[zuzuslastbraincell]

Send me a ship and I'll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it: ZUKKA

OH i have some opinions on this. warning: this reply will be a mile long.

essentially: i do really like zukka and have a soft spot for it, i used to absolutely love it (it was my fave ship back when i first watched atla in 2016), but the revival of atla has complicated my feelings towards it & has made me realise how much fan discussion and culture shapes out understanding of television. I largely think it is very overrated now and the fandom frustrates me a lot even if it's still kind of dear to me?

like at core, i think one should approach zukka not like it was 'meant to be' or highly signalled by the narrative (it was not and never was, lol, let's be honest) but rather just an extrapolation & continuation of the great teamwork dynamic and friendship that zuko and sokka presented during the boiling rock episode. they set out with some of the most awkward small talk and struggled to communicate or bond (i.e. that's rough buddy) but in the midst of the action, affirmed, supported, and trusted each other repeatedly, and this culminated in how well they fought together against azula imo? by the time they left they were so much closer. tbh i think zuko is important to sokka, as zuko affirms sokka and doesn't see him like dead weight or unnecessary in the slightest and believes in him, but also zuko is emotionally forthright in a way that challenges sokka, who hides his insecurities and buries emotions deep with a bleak outlook, sarcastic humour and a focus on the plan, to be more forthright as well. i think sokka helps direct zuko from bad impulsive decisions without trying to stifle him either and clearly appreciates some of his more hare-brained creative solutions (e.g. breath of fire in the cooler) and doesn't dismiss him entirely as an idiot either. like their dynamic - friendship or romance - is very good imo from only that one episode

ideal zukka content is set in this liminal space between boiling rock and sozin's comet where it's about the two of them continuing to lean on and trust each other, open up about shared fears and experiences (both older brothers with chips on their shoulders and prodigy sisters who looked up to their very very different fathers) but also just be goofy boys together, who do stupid or impulsive things and just *act their age* as that is something neither sokka nor zuko, who both shoulder responsibilities and tasks beyond their years, get to do much. like something light, maybe a little fleeting, but means so much in that space, very much the sort of meaningful summer romance you might have as a teenager.

all that said:

for various reasons i'm now sure how it'd pan out long term? a lot of fandom content depicts them as meant-to-be and each other's whole world when like, there's clearly so many other priorities they have - both have a strong sense of duty by the end of the show and i really dislike it when sokka is depicted neglecting that to spend all his time hanging around zuko? like racism r.e. sokka also comes into play as people will devalue his friendships and family in the tribe for the sake of a romantic relationship (with the fire lord, of all people! the boy-king of the imperialist nation that once raided the water tribe so much that it was barely hanging by a thread!). like i don't mind reading fic that actually takes the time to explore that conflict of interest and those different goals and how to navigate having different priorities as an adult and the legacy of colonialism without totally handwaving it or dismissing it but a lot of content just ignores it for the sake of 'oh gay husbands' and it really does a disservice to the characters? realistically i think it would have to be long distance and even then i'm not sure if that's what either needs - and so I instinctively just don’t care for anything that ignores the real difficulties they’d face.

there's also issues with racism in how sokka is mischaracterised as stupid (he's not) or the more emotional one (really, did we watch the same show) or how he thinks zuko is just a million times out of his league (especially when this trope talks about zuko's silky hair or pale skin i absolutely want to scream), as well as fetishising art where he's often more nude that really can make some zukka circles really really uncomfortable? like imo some fans definitely treat zukka like the red boy/blue boy ship from v*ltron and either grossly simplify or flat out ignore characterisation for them to fit certain stock m/m fandom archetypes, and a lot of this is tied up with racist fetishisation of visibly brown characters and fandom racism too. and yeah there's some visual similarity there but zuko and sokka are a thousand times more fleshed out? please don't reduce them to that bullshit. very much feels like the rise of zukka is a product of how fandom culture nowadays prioritises m/m far more than it did 10 years ago but has not at all attempted to address racism, misogyny, ableism, any kind of structural power dynamics that shape modern american/western culture and fan discussions

also? quite honestly i'm of the opinion that people should *not* be writing explicit sexual content about aged-up teenagers in community spaces where there's *tonnes* of minors and yet there is a plethora of explicit zukka fic in this revival and it leads to people just casually remarking about sexual roles of teenage characters around fucking. 15 year old kids. and the total lack of responsibility or even willingness to question whether this is appropriate by adults in this community drives me up the fucking wall. (zukka isn’t unique in this regard btw other ships do this too but it's been a reason for my growing discomfort). obvs teenagers do talk about sex themselves but they should do that amongst themselves and not with adult strangers in the figurative room? ffs.

i think on a more minor note now there's almost an over-saturation of content in the atla fandom to the extent that its drowning out other, more meaningful discussions about the characters or their equally/more important platonic dynamics, and that's frustrating to engage with.

like in theory, done well, with a delicate hand that respects the strength of their characters and dynamic, it's an A+ ship, but the content the fandom produces is sometimes really horrible. In fairness to zukka fans there have been attempts at accountability in at leas the circles i travel in, but there's way more to do in this regard.

(and also as a primarily f/f writer i do resent it a teeny tiny bit because of how much reception it receives for a pairing with little textual basis, and how that dwarfs femslash at the end of the day since a lot of the focus on m/m is fetishising or the readers just don't consider the autonomy or interiority of women as interesting).

anyway.

i feel like i have more to say but that is largely it r.e. zukka. very much taught me a ship is often as good as its fandom, but also taught me that i can read two works labelled zukka and they can have absolutely nothing in common beyond that because how good a ship in fic is reliant on what the author has done with it. i’ve read a lot zukka content i adore but i’ve also read a fair amount of zukka content that makes me deeply uneasy/uncomfortable. I still love it but i have a love-hate relationship with it to some extent.

#ship opinions #zukka critical #long post #this took me an hour to write but do i regret it? not in the slightest #editing to add a cut and then correct some spelling because i wrote this on my phone at 1am.... classic sasha