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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month

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📖"Breeding the Winter Soldier"

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 7893

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, Omega Bucky, Alpha Steve, Hydra wins, dark AU, forced mating, breeding program, coerced sex, restraints, heats/ruts, forced to fuck, past Bucky x Brock, HTP adjacent, mind control, anal sex, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)

A.N.: this was written all the way back in 2017!

Breeding the Winter Soldier

“Looks like they gave Cap his assignment,” Rollins chuckles from where he’s sitting, boots propped up on the observation room’s control panel. “Doesn’t seem too happy about being told he’s gotta breed ‘im.”

Brock scoffs lightly, unable to help himself from lighting up out of frustration as he stares through the one-way glass window at their prisoner. Smoking isn’t allowed inside the facility, but that’s never stopped Brock. “This is bullshit,” he complains around the cigarette between his lips, tossing the spent match to the floor as he gets a good first lungful of nicotine. Beyond the window, Captain fucking America—or what used to be Captain America— is pacing, pacing, pacing, distressed at the news. Brock seethes quietly. “Project Genesis is mine. He was supposed to be mine.”

And now Steven Grant Rogers is the one they want instead. The superior choice, apparently, for siring little super-soldiers. Brock had broken whatever he’d been holding when he’d first heard the order come down—a coffee mug, he thinks it was. The order strictly reassigned him as handler only to the asset, the one to supervise the project. Supervise. Brock cringes at the restriction of the word. He’s been the asset’s commanding officer for going on five years now. Unofficially, he’s been his alpha for two. He’s the one who knows the asset, understands him. He’s the only one who knows how to make him work right, how to get through to him. He’s the one who cares about him, who satisfies him through his heats. And now Hydra is forcing him to give that all away?

His mate is going to be so confused.

Rollins tells him to chill. “I’m sure they’ll still let you fuck around with him once he’s pupped a few litters.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” Brock roars, angry but not at Rollins. Jack seems to know this, as he doesn’t move at all from his lazy posture in the chair. “He’s my omega. I’m perfectly capable of breeding him, if that’s what they want.”

Rollins shrugs. “You ain’t got that super soldier sperm.”

“Captain. Hail Hydra.”

Steve looks up from where he’s been eating his breakfast and frowns at the sight of Rumlow. It’s strange and upsetting to see people that he knew from before. People who he’d thought were the good guys. Brock looks the same as he did a year ago. Same haircut, same face, same tactical gear that he used to wear when he was on Shield’s Strike team, when he was Steve’s friend. Only now there is no Shield, and there are no friends. Now they all belong to Hydra whether they want to or not.

“Hail Hydra,” Steve mumbles into the cold milk of his cereal.

“Gotta come with me, Cap,” Rumlow tells him. “Today’s the day.”

Steve looks up at him, eyes angry and tired. “I’m not doing it,” he says. He’s fucking not doing it. They can’t make him.

“I’m not in the mood for this today.” Rumlow calls in the four guards that he’s brought with him and has them stand there with their stun batons as a warning for Steve. Before, they never would’ve been enough to keep him subdued. But that was before. Steve knows it’ll be no use trying to fight them off. He lets his spoon drop into the cereal bowl.

They take him down to the wing where they keep Bucky, to a room with a bed, a minifridge and an exam chair. It’s a heat suite, where they intend to force him to do this, Steve supposes. Bucky’s not there. There’s a tech waiting for them and when Steve lays eyes on the prepped syringes he tenses, tries to turn around. He winds up with a stun baton jammed to his neck and the next thing he knows he’s restrained in the chair. The tech is bringing a needle over and Steve pulls with all his might against the mag restraints. They don’t budge. “Relax,” Rumlow says. He’s standing beside Steve. “It’s just something to help you.”

“Help me how?” Steve asks, afraid. He’s already drugged up six ways to Sunday. Drugs to keep him weak, drugs to keep him dazed, drugs to keep him calm. If he didn’t heal so rapidly his inner arms would look like pincushions by now. The injections erase who he is, erase any possibility of a fight, let alone an escape. He doesn’t want any more injections.

“Something to kickstart your rut,” Brock says. He points to the other needles, one by one. “An aphrodisiac. A benzo to lower your inhibitions. Hormones to increase the chances of conceiving.”

Steve sneers. “I’m not doing it. I’m not hurting him.”

“You sure as hell better not,” Brock tells him, and there’s something about the way that he says it that has Steve paying closer attention. Steve takes notice of how tense Rumlow seems, upset almost. He smells the sour tint of possessiveness rolling off of him. “He’s mine,” Brock says. It’s obvious he’s not talking about his role as Bucky’s handler.

Steve squints for a moment. “…No,” he says, eyes widening. Rumlow smirks when he sees that Steve is finally figuring it out. “You’ve had him.”

“Wow. Took you long enough Cap. Thought you would’ve at least smelled him on me, all the times I fucked him before passing you in the hall.”

Steve grits his teeth, fury building in him in a way that he didn’t think was possible, not with all of the mood stabilizers Hydra’s got him on. “You fucking raped him?!” The tech comes over and jabs Steve while he’s distracted, not that he can move much in the restraints anyway. The needle stings going in, but the anger coursing through him is worse than the cold flush of medicine through his veins.

Brock looks at Steve with contempt. “I’m his handler. He hasn’t been raped since I started caring for him.”

Steve pants in his seat, feeling his temperature start to climb as the drugs work into his system. “Is that what you call it?” he sneers. “You think you’re taking care of him?”

“I know you’re not happy about this,” Brock tells him. “But let me tell you something: neither am I.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brock tells the tech to get out of the room. He orders the AI system that they stole from Stark Industries to stop monitoring them. Once they’re all alone he tells Steve, “He’s mine, Rogers.” Steve growls at him and that makes Rumlow roll his eyes. He drags a stool over to sit right in front of where Steve is restrained. “What you’re participating in? It’s called Project Genesis.”

“Yeah, trying to make baby supersoldiers, I get it,” Steve snaps. “I’m not doing it.”

“It’s the only fucking reason you’re alive right now,” Brock tells him. “And it’s the only reason he’s not gathering dust in some cryo vault.”

Steve can’t suppress his frown. “What?”

Brock sighs. “You’ve both been decommissioned. Hydra is a major world power now. One or two enhanced assets aren’t worth our time anymore. An army of supersoldiers, however, is. That’s what he’s still useful for.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Yeah? How do you think I feel?” Brock snaps. “I was the one who was supposed to breed him. Was working on it just fine till they brought you in. I’m sure you think he’ll be happy to see you but let me tell you, he won’t.” Brock can smell the change coming over the other alpha, can smell his body ramping up for a rut. Beneath the scent of sex hormones is the sour tinge of chemicals. It makes Brock want to curl his nose and bare his teeth in a challenge, or maybe turn away to escape the smell altogether. “He doesn’t know you Cap, and you’re just going to scare him if you come at him acting like he should be glad to see you.”

Steve glares at him. “He does remember me. He knew me on the helicarrier.” Bucky had known him. He had.

But Brock shakes his head. “No. He only has bits and pieces Rogers. He’s my omega. I bonded to him years ago.”

Steve growls and pulls at his restraints again. “No!”

“Calm the fuck down!” Brock leans in closer. He looks mad. Smells mad too. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s not up to us. Do you think I’d let you touch him if it was?”

“He’s not yours,” Steve grits out. “And I’m not going to touch him.”

Brock huffs. “You wait till those drugs kick in, you’ll be singing a different tune.” He looks at Steve seriously. “And just so you know, he’s already in heat.”

Steve’s eyes widen at that. “What?”

“Yeah. He’s hot and aching and he knows what his mission is. He’s not going to fight it,” Brock says. “But he’s expecting me. He’s expecting someone that he knows to help him feel better. And he’s going to be confused when I bring him in here and tell him that he has to let another alpha fuck him. A stranger. So I need for you to calm down. I don’t want him scared. You and I are going to talk to him together and you’re going to be gentle with him.”

Steve can feel arousal building in himself, and it’s strange to feel that while he’s sitting there next to Rumlow, being told all of this. The chemically-induced rut is coming on fast. “Shit,” he curses, head falling back to the chair behind him. He can feel himself firming up beneath the thin cotton of his sleep pants and he hates that he can’t hide it from Rumlow. “I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this.”

“Get it together Cap,” Rumlow snaps, unhappy.

“Fuck you!” Steve spits.

Brock sighs. “I was hoping you’d shut up but I can see that’s not going to happen. He crosses the room only to return with a gag in his hands. He forces Steve’s jaw open and presses the ball gag in, saying nothing about the fight Steve puts up. Once it’s secured and Steve is heaving angry breaths at him, Brock says, “I’m going to get him now. If you care about him at all you won’t make this worse for him than it has to be.” He gets up and leaves through the room’s only door and Steve is forced to wait long minutes, panting and sweating at the oncoming rush of a forced rut.

The asset is relieved when its handler comes to retrieve it. It entered its heat hours ago and has had to wait, alone and aching, in the little room. “Come on James,” the handler says when the asset stands from its little cot, and the asset remembers that this is supposed to be its name. He’s never heard it before—not from anyone besides his handler. It's probably invented, but he likes that he uses it. Even if it’s made up, it’s something special between just the two of them.

Now they’ll go to the other room, the one where they always go when he is to be bred. James looks forward to it because he knows it’ll make him feel better. Brock (that’s his handler’s name. He’s allowed to use it when they’re alone) will give him everything he needs, will knot him and hopefully fill him with pups. That’s their mission. So far they’ve been unsuccessful but the asset thinks it’s because his heats used to be so unpredictable. Now he’s been out of cryo long enough that he’s cycling regularly again, his body ready for a pregnancy.

The asset has never thought about reproducing. An assassin doesn’t think of such things, a weapon certainly doesn’t. But James does. James doesn’t mind his new mission. He hasn’t told his handler, but he secretly prefers serving Hydra this way over what he used to do. This way he doesn’t have to go into the cold. And they don’t wipe him. And there’s someone who cares for him—his alpha. Deep down, he secretly likes the idea of having a baby, something that’s his that isn’t garbage or government-issued. Something that’s all his. He doesn’t tell his handler about this either.

They enter the other room and there is someone else there. It’s a man, an alpha. He’s restrained and in rut, that much is clear right away. The asset is nearly knocked back by the abrupt smell of him. Brock notices and laughs, reaching to grab him by the arm and pull him closer. “Easy babe.”

The asset scans his eyes over the man on the chair. He’s big. Tall and muscled, with blond hair and handsome features. He’s clearly upset. He struggles against his bonds as they approach, making useless sounds through the gag in his mouth. The asset looks questioningly at Brock. “Who is he?” He’s not really supposed to ask questions unprompted, but over time he’s learned that it’s okay with his handler, with Brock.

“His name is Captain Rogers,” Brock says. “Former SHIELD operative. He’s an enhanced like you are.”

The asset nods. He was unaware that there were others like himself. There used to be a program, but it had failed. He can remember helping, being tasked with training a group of men and women to make them stronger, better. But they’d gone wild and had been eliminated. The mission had failed.

“We have new orders,” Brock tells him, and this is when he takes his hand, squeezes it reassuringly. James purrs at the contact, moves to begin removing his clothes as is expected of him. But Brock stops him. “Wait, babe.”

The man in the chair growls at the pet name and James whines. He doesn’t want the other alpha to be there. He wants to be naked, in a bed, under his mate. “I’m hot,” he points out. “I need to get undressed.”

“You can,” Brock tells him. He pets the side of James’ face. “But I’m not going to be here with you.”

The asset frowns in confusion. “What?” He doesn’t understand. This is the breeding room. James is in heat. It’s their mission—they’ll be punished if they don’t complete it. The asset tilts his head, baring his neck, trying to show his alpha how ready he is. “Alpha please,” he whines. He’d hit the floor and present if not for the other alpha in the room. “I’m in heat. I need it.”

Brock shushes him, gentles a hand down his side. It feels good but it’s not nearly enough. “I know baby, I know. You’ll get a knot, just not mine.” The asset is confused again, but only for a second. His eyes dart over to where the other alpha is bound. Brock sees this and he nods, “Yeah baby, you’re going to mate with him.”

“What?” A low noise of distress leaves James’ throat, unbidden. He’s not supposed to make noises like that. But Brock never punishes him for such mistakes, not when it’s just the two of them. “No. You’re supposed to do it. You’re my mate,” he says, feeling scared. He’s not supposed to argue with directions. “Alpha?” he says, trying to press his nose into Brock’s neck, trying to ignore the other man in the room. “The mission,” he urges. “Breed me. Put pups in me.”

But Brock just kisses his temple and sets him back firmly. “Sorry babe,” he says. “It’s orders.”

Steve tries to speak through the gag but of course it’s no use.

He is forced to sit there and watch as Rumlow comes into the room with Bucky, holding his hand, for Christ’s sake. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. He makes a pleased sound whenever Brock touches him, and when he calls him pet names. Steve feels his guts lurch at the obvious show of affection between them. He feels jealously flare up in his core like a rabid animal, wanting to kill the other alpha for touching Bucky, for trying to claim the omega that should be his.

That, he knows, is his rut talking. It’s gotten worse in the past ten minutes since Brock left him here, tied to the exam chair and gagged. Steve’s skin itches and his pulse throbs. Between his legs, he’s hard. And now that Bucky has come into the room, now that Steve can smell him, it’s so much worse. Bucky smells like damp, cloying earth. He smells like dark, cramped spaces and tangled up bodies. He smells like something Steve wants to bury his face in and not come up for air from. Steve takes one look at him and feels the urge to chase him, catch him, pin him down come unbidden. All he can do is wiggle ineffectively in his bonds.

In front of him, Brock is telling Bucky that he has to mate with Steve. Steve’s heart clenches when Bucky looks over to him, tense and afraid. His eyes do not hold recognition. Steve listens as Bucky pleads and whines to Brock, calling him his alpha, begging him to breed him instead. And Brock fucking comforts him, pets him and gives him a kiss and tells him it’s okay. Bucky looks like he never wants to leave Brock’s side. Steve clenches his eyes shut at the sight.

“Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes open. Brock is standing right in front of him. Bucky is still hanging back, looking unsure. “You see?” Brock says, and he’s not bragging or gloating or anything. He’s just trying to get Steve to listen. “He’s used to being with me, Cap. He doesn’t know you. Now are you gonna behave if I take that gag out? Not going to upset him?”

Steve glares at Rumlow, but after a moment manages a terse nod. The gag gets removed, and Steve takes a moment to swallow the spit in his mouth, lick his lips and crack his jaw. “Thanks,” he grunts, not feeling at all thankful.

Rumlow nods, chucks the gag away. “I’m not going to let you up from that chair yet,” he tells Steve. “That I’ll do remotely, once I’m out of the room.”

Steve sneers. “What? You afraid to be alone with me?”

Brock raises his eyebrows. “First of all, I’m not alone.” He nods back to Bucky. “I’ve got him. Don’t let his role in our breeding program fool you; he’s still perfectly capable of ending a man with his bare hands. If I give him the order to, that is. Secondly, I’m not going to let you out of that chair while I’m in the room because you’re in rut. A rut that we chemically engineered to match his heat. You’re geared up to attack any alpha that comes near him.”

Steve scoffs. “I’ve got better control than you, animal.”

Brock looks back at Bucky and calls him over, but he calls him James, and that rankles Steve more than anything else yet. “Come here James,” Rumlow says. He holds out his arm and Bucky comes over obediently. “This is Steve. He’s not a big fan of mine, I’m sure you can tell.”

“Bucky,” Steve says urgently. “Bucky I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Don’t worry.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky murmurs to Brock.

Brock glares at Steve. “I told you Cap. He doesn’t know any of that.” Brock pulls Bucky closer, encourages him to go up and touch Steve where he’s restrained to the chair. “Go ahead babe. You heard him: he won’t hurt you. Have a look at him.”

Bucky does. He inches closer until his leg hits the side of the chair. He reaches forward with careful fingers, as if Steve is a wild animal that might bite. Bucky’s eyes are cold and calculating as they pass over Steve, no recognition to them. Not like Steve wants. “He’s healthy,” Bucky murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to say it. “Strong.” Behind, Brock chuckles a little.

“Yeah he is. Don’t worry though. He won’t be rough on you.” Brock meets Steve’s eyes over Bucky’s head. “I have it on good authority. He’s going to be real gentle.”

Bucky doesn’t react to this, and Steve feels as if he can hardly breathe as Bucky continues to examine him. He touches Steve’s arms, his legs, his chest. Steve is still clothed, but the touches ramp up the desire that the drugs have kickstarted. In his pants, he’s hard as a rock. Bucky leans down and sticks his nose into Steve’s neck, scenting at the glands there. It’s all Steve can do not to moan where he’s sitting, all he can do not to try and thrust his hips up the way his body wants to. After a long inspection, Bucky seems to make up his mind about Steve. He stands back and away, looks to Brock. “He’ll sire good pups. I understand why he’s been chosen.” He nods once to show his obedience in the matter. “I’ll complete the mission.”

Brock smiles at him. “Good boy.”

“Buck you don’t have to do anything these sacks of shit tell you to—”

“Cap,” Rumlow warns, “That ain’t the way. He WILL do what we tell him to. And if you’re resisting, he’ll take you by force. That how you want this to go?”

Steve grimaces at the threat, imagining the absurdity of Bucky raping him. “He should have a choice,” Steve tells Rumlow darkly, hating the man with every fiber of his being. “Does this make you proud?” he asks. “Treating him like a thing? Violating him?” Steve forces himself to meet Rumlow’s eyes in an imploring manner. “You said that you mated him. If that’s true, is this really what you want for him?”

Rumlow shakes his head, looks at Steve as if he’s incredibly thickheaded. “You just don’t get it, do ya Cap?” He walks over, takes a hold of Bucky’s neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Steve watches the display with horror, especially once Bucky brings both of his hands up to cradle Rumlow’s jaw. Brock pulls away from Bucky, their lips separating with a pop, and he glares at Steve. “This isn’t about ‘want’. It’s about following orders.” With that he pushes Bucky up to stand close to Steve, turning away before either man can stop him. “Now just shut up, lay back, and get him pregnant,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

James tries not to feel anything when his mate leaves the room. He tries to slip back into the mindset of the Asset, a place where feelings are irrelevant. Brock has explained the parameters of the mission, has given the soldier his orders. Now James will execute. He tips his ear towards the door, his enhanced hearing helping him to pick up on the sounds of many intricate locking mechanisms being set. He flicks his gaze back up to the body of the other man—the man they’ve chosen to sire his pups.

James wants to sneer, feels like maybe he does. He shuffles uncomfortably in place, wetness already growing sticky and cool where it’s seeped into the back of his pants. He wonders if Captain Rogers can smell it. Stepping close to the chair where he’s restrained, James examines the mag cuffs that hold him in place. They’re similar to the ones that his handlers use on him. It makes James wonder just how strong this man is. Brock had said he was enhanced. He tilts his head in curiosity.

“… Bucky—”

“Directive clarification,” James calls out to the room, ignoring whatever the Captain had been about to say to him. James doesn’t wait for a response; he knows they’re being watched. “Am I to mount him like this?” he asks, not particularly caring either way. He shouldn’t care about this stranger’s comfort during the act—he’s not Brock. The soldier has his orders and James has no choice. He has to do it. A quick glance shows him what he can already smell: Captain Rogers is fully erect beneath his clothing. On the chair or in a bed, he’ll be easy enough for James to take inside of his body. But a crackle comes through the speakers in the ceiling, echoing Brock’s voice into the room:

“Use the bed if you want. He’s been chemically subdued so he shouldn’t be able to put up much a fight. Releasing mag cuffs in three, two...”

In the next second the restraints on the chair click open, and James turns back in time to see Captain Rogers pulling his arms away from the chair. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side. His bare feet touch the floor but he remains perched on the chair’s edge. For the first time, James realizes that the Captain is dressed in sleeping clothes. A standard issue tee shirt and cotton pants are all he wears. “Bucky,” he says again, holding out an arm in James’ direction. It is unclear if the gesture is meant to beckon James closer or to keep him at bay. James is not unaware that, omega or not, he presents a threatening image to most men. With this in mind he narrows his stance, draws his shoulders down to seem as small and nonthreatening as possible. Hopefully this will keep the Captain from trying to do something as counterproductive as running, or fighting.

“I realize you don’t recognize me, but don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Steve.

James blinks at him. He takes stock of the situation. Captain Rogers—Steve—has been made aware of his role in the breeding program. He’s been given his orders just like James has, but he’s resisting. James can smell it on him, the warring scents of desire and disgust. James steps closer, tilting his head to the side once he’s just in front of him. “Smell that?” he asks, being sure to keep his eyes cast down. The Captain’s hands are clenched tightly by his sides as James bares his neck in a submissive gesture. “Come on,” he says as gently as he can. “Alpha?”

“Don’t,” Steve bites out. He sounds pained. “Don’t call me that Buck.”

James bites his cheek, thinking he may just have to use physical force if this man won’t listen. “You’re in forced rut,” he says, trying again. “That can’t feel good.”

Steve huffs an abortive laugh. “Yeah.”

“You’re flushed,” James tells him. There is perspiration all along the collar of Steve’s tee. “And you’re hot. Burning-up-inside hot. Believe me I know how it feels. When you’re so desperate that you’re miserable?” He reaches for the hem of his own shirt, pulls it quickly over his head. He knows that the movement makes his scent burst into the air. Now his top half is exposed and James has to hold in the sigh that wants to come at the relief of having that much less clothing on his body. He tosses his shirt aside. In front of him, Steve’s nostrils are flaring. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he tells him, “You can have me. It’ll help.”

Steve’s fingers sink into the chair’s cushion, little bits of foam padding ripping out and falling to the floor. His scent is soaring—a deep, rich scent like copper and burnt wood. James grits his teeth at the sudden urge to drop and present. He slowly reaches out with his flesh hand and touches Steve’s thigh. “Why are you afraid?” he asks. It’d be nice to know. Everyone always seems to know more than he does…

“I can’t hurt you like this Buck. I just can’t.”

James shushes him, ignores the continued use of that nonsensical name, Bucky. “You won’t,” he soothes, pulling lightly at the fabric of Steve’s pants in an effort to get him to slide off the chair. “I’m in heat. I’m ready. It won’t hurt.”

Steve scoffs, but he does allow himself to be moved. Standing barefoot, they come eye to eye. “That’s not the kind of hurt I meant.”

James ignores the clench his heart gives as he thinks of Brock. He wonders if his alpha is watching from another room, observing them through a little camera. He hopes not. “Come here,” James says, pulling Steve forward. Steve’s hands find their way to his hips, and James feels more slick rush out of his body at the contact. He whimpers without meaning to. “Scent me,” he says, tilting his head again. He’s pressing up against Steve, their bodies connected from thigh to chest. He can feel the alpha’s erection and he’s certain that Steve can feel his. But that hardly matters as Steve releases an answering growl somewhere in his throat. His head dips down and he buries his nose in the crook of James’ neck. James’ breath leaves him in a satisfied puff. He’s been in heat for nearly twenty-four hours with no relief until now. He’d been expecting Brock, his mate, but the mission has changed.

His body has already decided for him, he realizes. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t Brock. Doesn’t matter that it’s a stranger who’s been selected to put pups in him. James’ body recognizes this Steve for what he is; a strong, virile alpha.

The Asset grabs Steve with his metal hand, pushing him towards the bed before the other man can protest.

Steve stumbles over his own feet, not having been prepared for the rough grab and push of Bucky’s metal arm. He falls gracelessly back onto the room’s bed with a grunt. Bucky doesn’t give him time to recover. He’s there in a flash, one hand planted in the center of Steve’s chest and the other yanking down his pants. Bucky tosses them to the floor and reaches for Steve’s shirt. But Steve isn’t having it. He grabs Bucky’s arms and attempts to fight him. They grapple for all of three seconds before Bucky has him pinned, and Steve is panting furiously. The drugs make him so much weaker than before. With Bucky’s metal arm in play he doesn’t stand a chance. Begging is all he’s got left, it seems. “Please,” he says, staring imploringly. “You don’t want to do this.”

Bucky ignores him completely. He rips Steve’s tee shirt down the front like it’s paper, pulls it off of him and throws it somewhere in the general vicinity of where the pants had gone. Leaning forward over Steve’s now-naked body, he gives a very un-omega like growl. “Stay down.” He stands up and divests himself of the boots he’s wearing, then his pants.

Of course Steve doesn’t listen. He manages to prop himself up by the time Bucky’s taking his underwear off, and the scent that hits Steve then is so strong it makes him clench his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He can’t look at Bucky, he can’t or he’ll lose his shit. The bed dips and Steve jerks as Bucky pulls him to lie down again, too much naked skin pressed up along his own. “Bucky, don’t—” He’s cut off by lips crashing down on his own. Bucky wastes no time in forcing his way, mouthing and biting at Steve to make him open up. His hands pull at Steve’s hair and he fucks his tongue lewdly into his mouth. A garbled noise that probably would have been a moan had it been allowed to form leaves Steve, his hands grabbing the first part of Bucky they can find—his hips. Steve pulls on Bucky, whether to bring him closer or push him away he’s not sure, but he winds up tugging the other man fully atop him, and the second Steve feels him start rolling his hips downwards, he’s lost.

Bucky breaks the kiss, pulling away. Steve opens his eyes to see the omega staring at him, eyes a hard grey. He’s still fucking downwards, rubbing himself off against the crest of Steve’s groin, and his breath has become harsh. “This is our mission,” he breathes, sounding rough and desperate. “We have to. You have to.”

Steve feels sickness rise up and mingle with the desperation of his rut again. “No.”

“Yes.”

Steve repeats the ‘no’ several times more as Bucky continues to writhe against him, but his hands don’t loosen their hold on Bucky’s hips, and he doesn’t try to push Bucky off of him. “I can’t.”

Bucky makes an angry sound in his throat and yanks Steve’s head back with the grip he has on his hair. It’s his metal hand and it hurts. “You don’t have a choice,” he says. Steve growls at the dominant gesture, his hindbrain urging him to put the omega in his place. But Bucky leans closer again. For a second Steve thinks he’s going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He puts his lips to Steve’s ear, the dark length of his hair falling around them. “Don’t make me take it,” he whispers, sounding desperate. His hips have not stopped moving. “Please. Alpha. You’re supposed to give it to me. Take me. Don’t make me do it.”

Steve groans. There’s nothing worse that Bucky could have said. He’s in heat, and Steve’s in rut, and now he’s calling Steve Alpha and begging Steve to mate with him the way that he wants it; to take him the way an alpha should take their omega. Steve opens his eyes to find Bucky staring at him once again, only this time his eyes are soft and his brow is pinched—pleading. He looks more like the Bucky that Steve remembers, and Steve can’t ignore the urge within himself to make that pleading look go away, to satisfy.

He flips them over. The only reason he’s able to do it is because he takes Bucky completely by surprise. Bucky’s eyes go wide for a moment, assessing a threat, before he realizes the move for what it is and he relaxes and purrs. Steve doubts himself immediately. He brings his hands to Bucky’s face, pleased when he’s not pushed away and Bucky fucking bends his neck to expose himself. “Alpha,” Bucky whines, but Steve’s not having it.

“You listen to me,” he says angrily, using the last goddamn piece of himself that he has left to convey seriousness in his tone. Bucky stares at him obediently and Steve swallows. “They don’t wipe my memory, got it? You may not remember me, but I remember you. And I won’t hurt you. I hurt you, you have to tell me. If you want to stop, you tell me. Got it?”

James frowns, even in his lust-ridden brain he knows he does. This stranger—no, some distant and unreachable part of his mind corrects, not a stranger—Steve—is referencing the wipes, is telling him that they’ve met before. James can’t disprove such a claim. He wonders if this Captain Rogers was once his handler, or possibly a target. He wonders if “Bucky” was his call sign then. Steve is still staring intently at him, waiting for his answer, and James shakes his head to get the thoughts to go away. They’re not important, not relevant to the mission. If his promise is all the Captain needs, then it means nothing to James to give it. “You won’t hurt me,” he says again, thinking that the alpha above him is stupid to imagine that he could, but adds, “I’ll tell you if you do.”

That seems to settle it for Steve. He comes down and kisses James’ forehead, leaves his lips to linger there in a manner that makes James distinctly uncomfortable—as if they are old friends, or family even. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Turn over.”

James flips, never having obeyed an order so quickly. He tries to push himself up to present but with Steve’s heavy weight at his back he can’t do it. Behind, he can feel the alpha’s hardness pressing between his cheeks and it makes him whine needily. This may be a mission, but he’s still been left wanting and unfulfilled for close to going on twenty four hours now. There are no feelings of doubt or discontent with the situation that James needs to force down to be a good soldier. He’s allowed to want this, and he does. “Alpha,” he urges when Steve doesn’t move to penetrate him. “Please. Now, please.”

He can feel the exact moment when Steve gives in. His hands are clamped tightly on James’ wrists to keep him still, but when James nearly begs to be fucked it seems to push the alpha off whatever edge of hesitance he’s still managing to hang onto. James can feel Steve’s cock on his ass as he allows himself to thrust at last. The teasing slide is made easier by the slick that’s gathered there. James groans in frustration, rubbing his face into the bed and fairly suffocating himself as he waits for the other man to get on with it and get inside of him. He’s aching for it, for the stretch and pressure of an alpha’s cock, for a knot. He knows he’ll start yelling in a moment if Steve doesn’t DO SOMETHING.

But he does, and James doesn’t have to yell at him after all. Steve presses up onto his arms, the sweaty warmth of his chest leaving James’ back. He positions himself, bumping against James’ hole, and it’s a relief that he forgoes the unnecessary gesture of using fingers first—James is sure he would snap at him if he tried. Steve presses inside, entering him slowly but never stopping until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with James’ ass. It’s not hard to take him in. James’ body is slick and ready for it and he groans lowly into the bed at the sheer relief of it. “Yesss,” he hisses, and turns his head as much as he can to look back at Steve. The man looks about as gone for it as James feels, and a dark thrill shoots through him at the thought that he’s about to be taken just the way he wants to be. Fucked and bred just the way his body is crying out for. It may not be Brock, but James has decided not to think about that. All he can think about in his current state is Steve; the smell of him, the feel of him, even the sounds he makes, it all feels too perfectly satisfying. Maybe it has something to do with the barrage of drugs the techs had shot him up with yesterday. Maybe. He’s not supposed to care though, and he doesn’t. He tries to thrust his hips backwards, wanting movement and having no idea how the other man can bear to hold so still now that they’re connected. There’s nowhere to go with Steve pinning him down at the hips, but he knows the Alpha feels him squirming, recognizes it for the request that it is. “Move,” James says, sounding more demanding than a good omega should. “God just…”

Steve has a hand in his hair and his nose in his neck before James can finish the sentence. A very low growl, almost a feeling more than a sound, is coming out steadily from his chest. It makes goosebumps break out on James’ arms. “Are you telling me what to do?” Steve asks.

Against the bed, Bucky’s mouth splits in a smug grin. This is what he wanted, what Brock would’ve done. At the height of his heats, all the asset wants, all James wants, is to be taken. To be held down and owned. James strains to look back over his shoulder. The angle is awkward but he ignores it, fixing Steve with what he hopes is a challenging stare. If he has to goad the alpha into a more feral headspace to get things done, then by god that’s exactly what he’ll do. “I came here to get fucked, so yeah, I am. Move,” he bites out, hoping that it will spur Steve into action. It does. He pulls out, ignoring James’ cry of protest. His big hands slide down to his hips and he gets onto his knees behind him. James follows, pressing back and presenting. He can feel Steve’s hands pulling him apart, baring his hole. There is silence and James knows without having to look that Steve is just staring at him. The thought of it makes him shudder. He presses his face into the bedding and whines.

“God,” Steve exclaims softly, dragging a thumb across his leaking hole. “You’re soaked.”

James cannot stop whining low, needy omega sounds. Then he feels the blunt head of Steve’s cock at his entrance and he moans. “Yes,” he hisses, though it’s muffled against the sheets. He presses his ass back harder, and that causes Steve to pop inside of him. The alpha grunts in surprise, but then he’s right back to thrusting, this time faster. Just as deep though, and god, if that isn’t exactly what James wants. “Oh, hugn—oh!” The noises he’s making are obscene but James hardly notices. They seem to drive Steve on, his hips slapping harder each time he moans particularly loud.

It goes on like this until James reaches for his own cock. He only gets a couple of strokes in before Steve is knocking his hand away. James cries out indignantly but then Steve pulls out, flips him over and pushes right back in. He wraps his hand around James’ cock, hips working at the same pace as his hand. He’s staring down at James with a burning intensity, breath heavy with his efforts. “Mine,” he growls, giving a calculated twist on the upstroke.

James’ eyes roll back in his head. “Ugh, fuuck.” It’s incredible and nothing he’s used to. No alpha has ever done this for him before, always leaving it to him to take care of. He can hardly thrust into the grip very well when he’s being fucked as hard as he is, but damn if he doesn’t try. “Please,” he groans, grappling at Steve’s shoulders for something to hold onto. He hardly knows what he’s asking for. The alpha is sweaty above him and James’ hands glide over the muscles in his back. “Please, Steve,”

Steve’s eyes shoot to his at the use of his name. Something raw and more intense than what they’re doing now passes through them, and before James knows what’s happening he’s being kissed. It’s not gentle. It’s plying, and insistent, and needy. God, is it needy. Steve is kissing him like it’s the answer to something and all James can do is go along for the ride.

“Bucky,” Steve is grunting at him when he finally parts enough to speak. James knows he’s speaking to him, so he opens his eyes to the nonsensical name. He doesn’t really care what this man calls him, so long as he never stops. “Buck I’m gonna,” Steve tells him, brow sweaty and pinched. “I have to.”

James groans, feeling how true the alpha’s words are. His knot is growing, tugging more insistently with every thrust. When it feels like Steve might pull away at the last second, James wraps his arms and legs around him in a fierce hold. “No,” he begs. “Inside me. I need it.” He’s not thinking even a little bit about the mission now, only the ache inside him. It’s an ache only a knot will fix, and he whimpers this to Steve as he holds him. “Knot me. Alpha, please. Want to feel it. Fill me up. Breed me.”

Steve makes a filthy sound and shoves forward, groaning long and low into James’ ear. His knot catches, fully blown as he climaxes. His hand has stopped moving over James’ cock but it hardly matters now. He’s rocking his hips shallowly, pulling his knot taut against James’ rim, pulsating it over his prostate again and again and again. James doesn’t need anything else to make him come spectacularly.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

Brock doesn’t turn around from the observation window. He figures Rollins is just here to taunt him anyway. “Nobody asked you to come in here,” he says quietly, attention still fixed on the pair in the next room.

“Yeah well…” Rollins comes up and stands right next to Brock, eyes taking in the same sight. “I was curious.” When Brock says nothing, he adds, “Looks like they’re finished.”

Brock scoffs and turns abruptly from the window, putting his back to it. “They’re not fucking finished.” Idiot, he wants to add. He scrubs his hands over his face and it occurs to him that he needs to shave. “That was just round one.” Brock doesn’t know about Rogers, but he is intimately familiar with his own omega’s stamina during a heat. “They’ll be in there for a good two days at least.”

“And you’re just going to stand here and watch?” Rollins rolls his eyes. “Stupid.”

“I can’t do anything else,” Brock snaps, irritated at his friend. “You’ve never been bonded. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No?”

“No.” He sighs. “You think what? It’s just jealousy?” He shakes his head. “I could handle that. But this… It’s like a physical ache.” He turns slightly to glance through the window again, thinks better of it, and turns back around. “Can’t stand it.”

“Can’t do anything to change it.” Rollins points out. “You never should’ve gotten so close. He’s just a thing, and at the end of the day he’s Hydra’s thing, not yours.”

“Yeah.” Brock really doesn’t have it in him to argue that point. He wants to, but he doesn’t. It isn’t like he doesn’t wish he could set the poor SOB free. But that’s never going to happen, and playing house with his bonded for the last six months has just been wishful thinking. “They still going at it?” he asks, unwilling to turn around and look again. He wasn’t exactly getting off on the sight before.

Rollins looks. “Naw. Resting.”

Brock grits his teeth, can’t keep the image of that goddamn super soldier, tied to his mate, out of his head.

“You think it’ll take?”

“Christ Rollins, you just don’t quit. Of course it will.” Pretty soon he’ll have to see the soldier, heavy with a litter of his pups. He hates it. Hates it more than anything.

Rollins shrugs and claps a hand onto Brock’s shoulder. “Don’t stay in here.” Another glance back. “He’s obviously not going to hurt ‘im. Leave them to it. Come and have a drink with me.”

Brock looks at Rollins then and really considers him. He calls him his friend, but the truth is the two of them are just the same as the Winter Soldier—property of Hydra. It’s taken years for him to realize it, but it’s true. Still, Rollins is offering him a drink now, and even more than that, a temporary escape. It’s the closest thing to friendly Brock’s ever gotten from the other man, and he figures it’s the best he’s going to get for a while. He might as well go. Because Rollins is right; he never should have gotten so close.

Brock sighs and nods at Rollins. Tells him, “Yeah. Yeah I think I will.”

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darklydeliciousdesires · 13 days

Text

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Thirteen.

As usual, big thanks to my little audience for your lovely feedback :) We have another little time jump here, bringing us to the next notable event in the timeline of our characters. Enjoy <3 Also, if you're a silent reader who just clicks that heart and carries on, could I at all persuade you to leave a comment? It'd mean the world to hear from you!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,481

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

December 24th, 2011, Cleveland, NY

“Are you being careful? Because I’m not sure you’re being careful in your haste to get home,” Adrien spoke, phone glued to his ear as he and his father-in-law watched the snow plummeting down from the sky, the entirety of Oswego County under a few feet already.

“Bug, I have the greatest co-driver in the world, I’m wearing my glasses and we’re taking it slow. The freeway is clear and there’s barely any traffic. We’re fine.”

“Homeslice, this truck is insane! I love it! Handles perfectly, y’know?” Jen called, enjoying herself greatly driving Adrien’s Ford Ranger.

Jen was driving? Oh, god.

“Jennifer, if there’s even one mark on my damned truck, you’re getting whooped.” He’d only bought it brand new a week ago, and now it was in the hands of somebody who made F1 drivers look tame.

Steven couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee. “RIP your paintwork, son.”

“Oooh, baby! Bring it!” Of course, she’d say something like that. “Just make sure the fire is blazing, buddy. We’re below zero and this heater ain’t cutting it. I swear, my tits are about to drop off!”

Adrien couldn’t help my laugh. “You do know I have you on speaker, right? And Steven is standing right here.”

There was a short pause. “Hey, papa Steve! What’s your medical stance on combating chilly tits?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Warm hands.”

“Steven!” Gemma yelled from across the kitchen, “you can’t say that! The girl is like an adopted daughter to us!”

“I wasn’t offering, love,” he called, still laughing. “She knows that!”

“Indeed, I do! Anyway, Jade is running low on battery and my phone is in my bag in the back, so we gotta go. I’m saying ETA of about a half hour. Buh-bye!”

“Bye!” the men both sounded, Adrien hanging up and returning his phone to the island, sitting down. The reason Jade was out at all in the snow was because all the trains heading north of Manhattan had been cancelled and flights were grounded, leaving Jen stranded without a ride since she her own car had refused to start that morning, Steven and Gemma already on their way and with his own parents also en route from visiting friends in east Hampton, it left no other options than for Jade to drive down and fetch her.

With her recently split from her boyfriend of ten months, and her mother and sister heading to Florida for Christmas in the sun with her brother Wayne, who she did not get on well with at all, it had left Jen destitute for the festive period. Until Jade had emphatically stated there was no way that would happen, Adrien telling her too that if she didn’t come to them, he’d hunt her down.

He was very relieved when he saw the truck park up to the side of the house just under forty-five minutes later, the women diving out and running for the door he rushed to open up for them, both covered in a liberal dusting of snow. After a round trip of just over twelve hours, Jade was very, very glad to be back home, kicking off her boots and big coat, falling into the warm hug her husband provided.

“Mommy Gem!” Jen yelled, approaching the lady herself with wide arms, being pulled into a hug and kissed upon her cheek multiple times.

“Hey, hon. Oh, it’s so nice to see you, my darling!” While they chatted, Jade stood and caught up with the day she’d missed.

“Have the puppies been out yet?” Yes, her filling the house with animals had begun. Two Cane Corso's, one American Bulldog, and an insane Red Setter who was currently lying across Steven’s lap beside the fire. Having the chimneys completely rebuilt throughout the house had been expensive and time consuming, but definitely worth it. That and the underfloor heating provided an amazing source of warmth during winter.

“Groucho initially refused,” he began, speaking of said Red Setter, “Bear and Atlas eventually got their paws in it,” he continued, referring to the Cane Corso’s, “and Brando wouldn’t come back in for a half hour, would you?”

The big, white bulldog sitting beside him looked up with a head tilt, woofing softly. “Yeah, you know I’m talking about having to chase your dumb ass back in earlier, don’t you?” Another woof sounded.

“And the cats?”

He looked to where Salem and Juno, their two rescue Maine Coon cats basked upon the rug, shaking his head. “Long enough to pee before they shot back in.”

She hummed a chuckle, kissing the centre of his chest. “They are nothing but predictable with their posh paws routine.”

“Alright, so now you’re home, can we get the guided tour of this newly finished house?” Gemma asked. She’d been itching for a proper look around since they’d arrived four hours ago, Adrien reluctant to show them without Jade, knowing she’d want to be there, too. It also saved doing the same thing all over again for Jen when she arrived as well.

It gave him a sense of great pride, to show them around the house that had taken four long years to complete, talking about the various points they picked up on as they went. There was one focal point that drew the kind of attention he could have kicked himself over, though, neither he nor Jade realising they hadn’t taken it down from the beam above their bed about two minutes too late.

“Ahh, guys, I have to take this. It’s the hospital, I’ll be in the lounge.” Steven spoke, his departing of the house tour a saving grace, as Adrien was about to discover.

“Oh, it’s beautiful in here, look at this floor!” Gemma enthused as she walked into the bedroom, Jen rushing past to backflip straight onto the bed, assuming the starfish position.

“I love the hell outta this bed!” she exclaimed, Jade folding her arms while raising an eyebrow.

“If only you knew that I was doing at 1am this morning, right where your head is,” she quipped, grinning with mirth.

Jen looked between her and the comforter a few times. “I don’t know whether to be aroused or perturbed. I’ll sit somewhere between the two.”

“Dirty children,” Gemma sighed, her eye then caught. “Why’s there a big assed chain with a hook hanging from the beam?”

Oh, shit.

“Erm, modern art,” Jade smiled. Gemma could have been convinced by that, had it not been for her son-in-law closing his eyes tightly, looking immediately uncomfortable.

“Lies! What’s it really for?” She turned then, fixing him with a look. “Adrien?”

“And I’m outta here.”

“Adrien!” she called as he made his escape towards the stairs. “You haven’t answered me.”

Jade was laughing behind her hands, Jen scrambling off the bed and straightening the comforter before jogging from the room. “This I gotta watch! Oh, he’s gonna go catatonic!”

“Adrien,” Gemma continued to call, two snickering women hot on her heels, “what’s the hook for?”

“N’aww, fuck!” he groaned, entering the kitchen and promptly opening the door to the huge, walk in pantry, hilariously shutting himself within, Jen catching up and rapping her hands against the door rapidly.

“Dude! It ain’t like you to get embarrassed,” she teased with hefty sarcasm, snorting laughing. “Come on! Enlighten us!”

“Get in here. I need company, and to make sure you keep your yap shut,” he spoke, opening the door, his arm emerging to haul Jen in by her hoodie, slamming it shut again.

“Baby,” Jade called, slapping her mum on the arm for the look of utter mischief. “Are you alright in there?”

“Do we still have the cat sedatives?” he asked.

“I think so.” While Salem was good as gold for vet trips, Juno was hell on four paws unless Adrien took her. For daddy, she behaved. For anybody else? The murder mittens were shown.

“Good, because I need to swallow the whole damned bottle.”

“Hey, if I can’t use recreationally any longer, neither can you!” Jen told him, the sound of rustling becoming audible. “Oh cool, you guys have got that Whole Foods granola in here!” A small scuffling sound followed. “Don’t be stingy with the eats, man!”

The door opened, the tall blonde finding herself ejected, granola box yanked from her grasp. “Oh man, you should see his cheeks!” she hissed through her mouthful of pilfered cereal. “He’s like beets!”

“Jen!” he warned, slamming the door shut after her exit, sending her doubled over with laughter, Gemma approaching to tap her nails against the pantry door.

“Adrien?” she called sweetly, trying to hold her laughter in. “What’s the hook for?”

“Yeah, homeslice, tell us!” Jen teased, wiping her eyes. “You can’t be a freak in the sheets and then get all shy about it!”

“I can when my mother-in-law is right there, Jennifer!”

“Mummy,” Jade warned, finally emerging from behind her hands, “stop mortifying him!”

She thought on it for a second. “I will not.” Once again, her nails tapped the door. “What’s the hook for, Adrien?” Oh, she was having way too much fun to stop, the door eventually flying open, Adrien moving at speed across the kitchen, determined to at least try not to be furtherly ensnared by his embarrassment. He didn’t move fast enough for Gemma, though, who grabbed his belt and, surprisingly for her size, hauled him to a complete stop.

“What’s the hook for?”

He finally began to laugh, pointing at Jen, who was in complete hysterics. “Don’t you dare.”

“I ain’t saying shit,” she began, snorting and descending again, hugging his arm.

He cringed, shaking his head rapidly. “If ever the ground was gonna open up and swallow me, can it please be now?” Opening one eye a fraction, he viewed an expectant Gemma, laughing through his nose as the discomfort ate him alive. “I’m pleading the fifth.”

Truly, he had no idea of the tenacity of Mrs. Burton, Gemma folding her arms, making him meet her eye. “What’s the hook for?”

“Mum, you really don’t want to know,” Jade called, picking up a passing Salem and cuddling him close, the cat purring and nudging her face with his.

“I do want to know!” she exclaimed, “if nothing else but to watch your husband squirm some more.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he screwed his eyes tightly shut, looking more pained than Jade had ever seen him look. “I’ll let your daughter tell you. I’m going where women are not. Gimme the keys, I’ll go get all your stuff out of the truck.” He kissed his wife’s head on the way past as she handed him the keys, scratching an appreciative Salem, Gemma turning to meet Jade with a wide-eyed stare.

She waited all of two seconds after Adrien had exited the back door. “Well?”

“He ties me up and hangs me from it,” she finally stated simply.

The gasp that fell from Gemma was immense. “He what?” she began, turning to Jen while pointing at her daughter. “I was thinking leverage or something, you know, like holding onto it while you’re bouncing on top?” The fact she coupled her words with the motions to demonstrate sent Jen into a guffawing mess, falling to her knees as she slapped the stone tiles beneath her.

“I have used it for that, too, when I have my arms all bound up.”

“Jade Lucia!” Gemma exclaimed.

“I can’t breathe!” came the voice from the floor.

“Well, you did ask, mum,” Jade shrugged, picking up a grape and popping it into her mouth with a shrug. “No, you can’t have that.” she then told the huge puddle of fur in her arms, Salem softly pawing at her finger with a little meow.

Gemma stood looking mildly stunned. “But he’s so nice and polite, and now I find out he’s one of these guys who liked their women hog tied!”

“Not all the time,” Jade was quick to state, plucking a few more grapes from the bunch.

“It’s always the nice, polite ones that are the secret deviants,” Jen added to the conversation, moving to seat herself at the island. “Trust me, the things I know about Charlotte. Entirely too much, courtesy of Katie.”

When Adrien came back in, he was immediately given a look from his mother-in-law, Gemma resting her hands to her hips. “I want words with you, young man.”

Just then, he heard the sound of a horn beeping, looking out of the window to see his parent’s car pulling up. “Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed, “saved by the beeps.” He then paused, of course realising his mom and dad would also want the guided tour, eyes widening. “Baby, get the fuck upstairs and get it down!”

“I can’t, I’m not tall enough,” she spoke in her best cute, funny voice, snorting with laughter all over again.

Jen jerked her head in the direction of the door. “I gotcha, Skippy. I’ll get on your shoulders. C’mon.”

While they scurried from the kitchen, Gemma fixed him with a wry smile, walking over and hugging him. “Still love you, even if you are a deviant.”

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Still love you too, Gemma. Even though you enjoy mortifying me way too much.”

She hummed a wicked chuckle, patting his stomach with her hand. “You shouldn’t make it so easy, hon.”

With all embarrassing inquiries out of the way, another tour of the house was taken after Lois and Patrick had warmed up with coffee, everyone gathering back in the kitchen, where Gemma had truly commandeered the space, cooking all afternoon. The big celebration in Italian households was Christmas Eve, and truly, she’d gone all out. The feast of the seven fishes had been a staple in her household since she was a child, and she’d kept up with that tradition ever since.

Baked salmon, spaghetti with clams, fried calamari, cod with orzo, gigantic, spicy shrimp, garlic mussels and fried whitebait graced the table, everyone having much fun at Jade’s expense with the latter.

“Patrick, no. I can’t,” she cried, her father-in-law holding one of the tiny fried fish, making a swimming motion towards her with it. “It has a face still!” If there was one thing she couldn’t deal with, it was fish served with their heads still intact.

“But as a meat eater, everything you consume has a face. I fail to see the validity in your gripe when we take this into account,” he shrugged, Jade leaning as far away as she could in her seat at the island, making a perturbed squeak.

“I don’t like my food to look at me,” she reasoned, pointing at Adrien. “Your bloody son traumatised me every damned day of our honeymoon! Ordered everything with a face when we went out to eat!” Indeed, he had, Adrien looking delighted at the memory of his wife having a small meltdown at dinner each night. They had spent a week in Turks and Caicos at the end of the summer of twenty ten, loving the islands so much that come the following spring, they were heading back on a group holiday with Katie and Charlotte, as well as his good friend Lewis and his girlfriend Mona.

Adrien only had three projects to film in twenty twelve, Jade two, both wanting slow down their working life a little and enjoy some time together instead of snatched days and weeks here and there, as they had for the almost two years they’d been married. Two weeks in the sun suited them both down to the ground, especially given the current climate of Oswego County.

After having a great Christmas with their families, before she knew it, Jade was boarding a tour bus again after touching down in Manchester, but at least it came with some very nice advantages. Advantage one being that she had Adrien with her, and advantage two, the bus itself. With the girls now elevated to a much higher status in their careers, the record company were prepared to shell out a lot more in the way of comfort, two busses now dedicated to ferrying them around in luxury. Yes, they had beds.

The set up of the busses was much different, the front lounge remaining, kitchenette and bathroom next, but no bunks or rear lounge, those spaces taken up by two bedrooms that a double bed could just about fit into, the gangway offset to the side of the bus. No more bunk life. They were thrilled. Charlotte, Katie and Jess had one, and Jen and Jade the other, Adrien too by extension. He could have stayed at home, but with a housekeeper in employment so their home and animals were well looked after whenever they were away, he saw no reason not to spend some time with his wife. After all, they’d been married for almost two years and lamentably spent most of it apart.

They’d definitely proved every single one of their doubters wrong, that their marriage wouldn’t last beyond a few months.

Still though, while they were no longer hounded by photographers quite as much as before, the media still gave voice to ridiculous gossip, claims that they were on the rocks and heading for separation, as well as the one that had made Jade burst out laughing with the sheer ridiculousness of it. Adrien, apparently, had been having an affair with a young woman named Serena Reid for the last five months, her claims only amounting to a personal account that could easily be picked apart.

It honestly entertained her, how these tabloids didn’t bother with fact checking anything for credence prior to going into print. One of the alleged dates the girl claimed she’d met up with Adrien in the city had been so easily refutable, since at the time he was standing to the side of the stage at Simmons Bank Area in Arkansas, watching Seventh Gate play live. Another she claimed to have been in taken to their apartment in the West Village by him while his wife remained upstate, when in reality, he’d been filming halfway across the world.

That aside, she knew her husband inside out; infidelity was not in his nature. Being a little self-righteous, argumentative when he was in a bad mood, aloof when he was proven wrong, yes, those were some of his negative traits that annoyed her, but cheating? Nope. She knew she’d never have that to worry about. Apart from him being the epitome of faithful, he’d never wish to inflict the kind of pain he’d gone through with Sofia upon another. He was too much of a good guy for that.

He would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t worried about the effect it’d have on his wife, knowing well how she tended to pay a little too much attention to online commentary into their life, but the way she’d handled it with grace, not internalising it either, had truly made him proud. Her coping skills in that respect had been learned in attending therapy for the last year and a half, and also feeling safe and secure enough in her relationship with him to talk things through, just as he’d always wanted her to.

While the claims of Serena Reid were entertaining in their preposterousness and nothing more, Jade couldn’t help but feel sorry for her on some small level. The emergence of an Instagram page, with fake text messages created allegedly from Adrien, as well as badly manipulated Photoshop creations had sealed for her that the young woman was likely not well. Where were her family in all of this to talk her out of making a complete fool of herself, she wondered? The media also had a responsibility as well. After all, they had been the ones to give Serena a platform when it was obvious how delusional she was.

Delusional was exactly how Jade looked at it all, and was prepared to keep on viewing it as. That was, until she and the rest of the girls were headed to a small side room at the Manchester MEN arena for a meet and greet with fans who had paid for VIP packages. Upon approach, their former head roadie, now tour manager Sunni walked from the room, holding his hands out.

“Yeah, we’ve got a situation, guys,” he spoke, glad that he’d been the one to spot it prior to the band entering the space. “Jade, that girl Serena Reid? You ain’t going to believe this, boss, but she’s back there in the room with the rest of the fans.”

Hearing that, things shifted up a gear instantly, and her stance of thinking Serena to be nothing more than a purely harmless, annoyingly delusional person was swiftly tossed aside.

#adrien brody fanfiction #adrien brody #adrien brody smut #adrien brody fanfic #adrien brody fic #adrien brody x ofc #sky full of stars #adrien and jade

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theseerasures · 5 months

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notes on the owl house, season 1

was gonna do a sequence of liveblogs but then??? i got really into it??? so i guess the most important tl;dr is that yes lesbians you were right this time

S01E01

*watches first scene, where a single brown mother gives her kid a brochure for Conformity Camp with a cartoonish image of a child being crowded into a box, when her kid has already been established as being comically and cartoonishly imaginative, while a flock of doves fly into the air spelling out the words THIS IS A JOKE PLEASE DO NOT MAKE A DISCOURSE ABOUT THIS*

*pauses episode*

*gently and reverently rests finger on screen* a discourse happened here

i knew that Wendie Malick voices Eda before i started and thought i'd properly girded my loins and yet every time she opens her mouth i think she's gonna tell Luz she's punishing Luz for being alive

S01E03: gotta say i'm appreciative of this show's policy of "NO BOYS ALLOWED" unless the boys are the LITTLEST GUYS IN THE WORLD in which case "SON BOY ALLOWED"

S01E05

it's weird that the Adora in this show has Catra's haircut

wait

siSTER???

i guess kudos for subverting my expectations but between this and Frozen what is it with Disney properties courting the Incest Yay people

was the thought that since Eda and Lilith are Old(tm) it wouldn't happen this time because. uhhhhhh

i guess since Catradora was NebulaGamora you could argue Dana Terrace was just returning the trope to old familial roots??? bah i'm not gonna think about this anymore. Lilith def cursed Eda tho

spotted: Amity Blight and her best frenemy Luz Noceda dueling over the last open spot to the Magic Yale welcome luncheon!!!! xoxo GossipWitch

S01E07

not only does Amity have siblings her siblings are VEX AND VAX??? what is happening

Amity: you're a bully Luz!!!! i would know, because i call myself that in the mirror every morning!!!! not because i'm self aware though. it's to pump me up for another day of Bratz the Movie level shenanigans

wow this enemies-to-lovers is turning around fast. i was expecting Amity to at least girlboss if not gaslight but she barely got to gatekeep before being all "i guess :) we both learned something today :)"

yes Amity Luz accidentally hurting your precarious sense of self once is definitely the same as you tormenting Willow for years

S01E12

oh i've seen this Steven Universe episode.

*sees the monster* and so have the storyboarders

why is everyone so mean to Hooty :(

seriously tho i get having one person in the friend group that everyone inexplicably dislikes is a comedy standard or whatever but. it feels out of place for a show that otherwise bellows "it's great to be weird!!!" from the rooftops

Hooty never did nothing to nobody!!! except be all powerful and occasionally asking to be included in shenanigans

on the other hand given King's design they had to work REALLY hard for me to dislike him, but wow! it's definitely paid off, he's the worst

this is the third episode in a row where King's plot is that he has to learn a lesson about not being Disney-brand-selfish and i know this didn't happen but i'm suddenly imagining the world where he eventually takes over as the main character and The Owl House became Disney's answer to Teen Titans Go

S01E13: okay fine King reaching Todd Chavez levels of shenanigans in this episode was good. he can stay

S01E14: MAYBE THEY SHOULD CALL IT SHAPESHIFT LAND. BECAUSE IT'S A LAND WHERE YOU GO TO SHAPESHIFT

S01E15

can i just say that. naming a powerful-but-overlooked witch--who is the BFF to the main character, who thrives on both a) The Hubris and b) The Resentment--Willow is. well no harm in wearing your influence on your sleeve i guess

she does plant magic! it's not like they could have called her Glimmer

i can't believe Amity was made to end her friendship with Willow by CAITLIN GLASS'S SHADOW LAUGHING ON A WALL

*Amity pulls on Skara's invitation like she's gonna rip it apart* NO AMITY THAT'S AN ACTUAL BUTTERFLY

Amity: i'm not actually gonna rip it because it's a real butterfly, but you get the gesture, right?

me: ...fine. FINE

>:(

*watches Amity release the butterfly invitation as a symbol of overcoming her past self* wow. trans Amity confirmed

all the Blight kids are trans actually the twins transed and nobody even made a fuss bc their parents are terrible and Amity is a fourteen year old with youngest most specialest child syndrome

S01E16

Amity: i can't fight my worst fear because it's SO EMBARASSING

me: Amity if it's the one where you fail a test and then your mother shows up and calls you fat i guarantee everyone in school has already guessed

i guess we're just getting everybody's mommy issues huh

Luz's greatest flaw is how hard she commits to the bit, truly the ADHD representation we need

like it has literally not occurred to her that she could change course with what to tell Camila at any time. she chose her path and it's the only one for her now forever

oh Amity's greatest fear isn't even the obvious mom thing!! it's that Luz might turn her down!!! that's so fucking stupid Amity never ever change

S01E17

the recurring potshots at JoRane's intellectual property this season sure are.

this was produced and came out during the years she went public about losing her fucking mind, so like. everyone had to deal with it in the way they felt was appropriate. i'm not really out to judge the exact timbre of one's response so long as said response does not align with her bigotry, and i sympathize with the petty joy of belittling something owned by somone hateful, especially if that something once meant a lot to you...

i guess i'm just not super comfortable with it because a) you're still picking at a wound even if you end up making funny shapes out of the scabs, b) these hot takes are about general magic-school tropes but often are so specifically about her it feels like we're giving her credit for creating them, and c) owning her like this feels like an opiate when the real issue isn't that her fictional society is founded on 11 year olds taking one uquiz, or that the fake sport she made up is hideously unbalanced, it's that she's...the leader of hate group

all of which are misgivings i have about the Disney Corporation as well and i get that people don't watch this show to be REMINDED that we live in a society, so like. whatever i'm gonna stop talking about this

that Amity sure is gay amirite! she went from "mostly bormal about her obvious crush" to "Jodie Foster at the Golden Globes" in the span of one episode

S01E18

wow!!! Hooty saved everyone's bacon by being all-powerful. thank you Hooty sorry your squatters just take you for granted

oh hey Hordak

the fact that Willow and Gus immediately figured out what Luz was up to because of the helpful diagrams she drew for her non-plan is just so. i'm love them, actually

LILITH??? cursed Eda???? what an unexpected turn of events

okay yes Eda sacrificing her soul to her chronic illness for Luz provoked some genuine emotion from my flinty irreverent heart

it was just the emotional climax of Brave with a Last Agni Kai color scheme but hey i cry during the emotional climax of Brave, so

S01E19

is King...not sad his momowner is about to die??? i get that Luz is the focus here but it's weird that he's not even a little bit distraught

Lilith

oh my god what

what????

you really think someone would do that??? just ESTABLISH A FASCIST STATE AND TELL LIES????

Lilith how the fuck did you become the head of the secret police when you're like THIS

MINDWIPED WILLOW HAD MORE DEDUCTIVE SKILLS, LILITH

i thought there'd be SOME fascist ideology buy-in like cursing Eda made her scared of Power without Discipline or something but she's...only here??? because this one thing Hordak said he'd do???? HE DIDN'T EVEN PINKIE SWEAR LILITH

like yes yes i know. "cop older sister fails upwards and yikes her way into defending her genocidal boss" I KNOW the only way she could be more my type is if she had dyed her hair white, but i can't pay attention to any of that bc i'm too distracted by the logic-defying stupidity

Lilith when you ditched your glasses for your Goth makeover did you just. never get contacts??? because the only reason i can think of for even you blithely sailing past every red flag is that you were literally too blind to see them

i just

i can't believe i thought Winter Schnee was the purest encapsulation of "in my defense your honor i really am the dumbest bitch alive" when Lilith was there all along

i guess her existence is a powerful statement that MILFs can be morons too

*Luz confronting Lilith and displaying a level of anger that's probably supposed to be unsettling* oh my god Luz YES GET HER PUT HER OUT OF HER FUCKING MISERY

Lilith: i just don't understand why even after i've restrained and assaulted them no one believes i just want to have a civil conversation :(

tHIRTY YEARS????

like yes okay i'm sure there are some profound implications here we can draw about grooming and abuse and sunk cost fallacies but i just

Lilith: i was on the fence about cursing my sister, but when i asked for the Emperor's advice he said "god forbid women do anything."

Luz:

Lilith: i'm realizing now that was bad advice. and that he probably meant it in a different, even worse way than how i interpreted it.

but don't worry gang! her solution to fixing all the evil she's been complicit in is to...uh, continue being complicit in the evils! it's the best way to ensure that the incredibly specific scenario that befell Eda and herself will never!!! happen!!! again!!!

quick Lilith, Hordak just ensnared you in tentacles! this is a perfect opportunity for you to show exactly how you're going to prevent "~this" from ever happening ag--oh she's gone

Eda, finding out Lilith didn't actually mean to curse her forever and this was all her sister's incredibly weird way to make amends: what kind of fucking mORON--wait actually this makes perfect sense

Eda honey obviously i love you for trying to shield your sister and petson from petrification but i don't think Lilith noticed you did that

given the established buffer speed of her brain i'm not sure she's even put together that the owlbeast and her sister are the same person

okay okay i'll move on

:') Luz you brave darling sunflower you've never done anything wrong ever in your life and i'm glad you committing to the bit saved the day, even if it came at such a high price

not sure you'll be taking home the coveted gold for Committing to the Bit tho, now that your witch-aunt has revealed herself as the undisputed champion of Blindly Committing to the Bit for the thirtieth consecutive ye--OKAY YES WE'RE NOT BEATING THIS DEAD HORSE ANYMORE

because i do want to take this show seriously, and nothing demonstrates "i'm gonna take responsibility for my own actions now" better than using your literal body to bear some of the harm you inflicted on others. it's a very nice way to bring their relationship full circle, and it resonates with other instances when characters are forced to stop defining themselves by outside standards and embrace what they're already good at.

(and what Lilith is good at is soothing the pain of others via self-harm! which i think is the point the Helen's-Type-Generator starts emitting confetti and oily black smoke)

is this the first instance of magic having a cost or rebound in this world? beyond "whew i did a lot of magic today, i'm tired?" hm

Dana Terrace really went "i'm gonna give the whump enthusiasts everything they want" with this trope huh

Going Forward

yes i liked it yes i know the second season is more heavily serialized yes i will watch that soon

this did make me think about how all seriality in TV these days seem to be about building up to one series-wide showdown as opposed to different seasons having their own mytharcs, but that has less to do with this show specific and more with the death of television as a medium and we ain't got time for that

given how much my exposure to this show beforehand was Lumity (to the point where i wasn't sure there were other characters besides Eda) i'm...kinda surprised at how sparse Amity's presence was in this season. i liked what we did see of her, but i went in expecting a lot more antagonism for a lot longer in that dynamic

but i guess that's tied in with this season not having much in the way of antagonism until the very end, and not-Hordak seems to be the only one actually invested in his whole world order. we don't have any sympathetic true believers, which I assumed would be Lilith and/or Amity? i guess neither Shadow Weaver nor Catra really gave a shit about the Horde's ideology either, but Shadow Weaver remained an unrepentant ball of spite until the end and it didn't really matter that Catra didn't give a shit about the Horde because the Horde was the only thing she knew. in contrast Amity and Lilith's ties to the existing system feel very shallow--in the latter case so much so it kind of boggles my willing suspension of disbelief?

i suppose the next season can change that, i know new characters get introduced so--

oh wait is that what's gonna happen to the bad sad twink

i've only seen his armor but given how many AO3 fics seem to be about him i'm just gonna assume that he's a bad sad twink

wait can i call someone a twink when he's probably in his early teens like the rest of the cast?

is there discourse about this i hope not

don't make me break out the flock of doves

#owl house #helen writes meta

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anandabrat · 2 years

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So my dear friend @ride2fly has been locked out of her Tumblr because, possibly, her email is in the system incorrectly, but anyway she has given me the honor of posting her contribution to Bering and Wells Appreciation Week!

This is her very first fic, and was originally written to only me, perhaps in self-defense as I often send her my own mad ravings and scribbles. She says she hopes you all enjoy her silly idea, and that she wrote it for me because I'm her favorite (aww, blush.)

Anyway, without further ado...

Bering and Wells, Gay Pirate edition!

“I mean. Mutiny is the only answer. “

“We can’t keep following this guy. “

“She’s a lady.

“Is she though? Like can you be a lady if you just abandoned your husband and child and just like peaced out to be a pirate?”

Claud says nothing of course, but he does look up from under his broad hat to give Steven Jinks a hard look.

Olu clears his throat, breaking the weird silent tension between his ship mates.

“She pays us though. Like. Really well.”

“Yeah but we haven’t even done anything. We are pirates man. We should be pillaging. When I was on Blackbeards’ crew —“

The collective moan cuts off Black Pete from whatever lie he was about to tell. He blusters but no one wants to hear it.

“We don’t have to do anything. She pays us for nothing. I mean really it’s a sweet gig,” Frenchie squints into the sun while he says this, not fully committing in any way.

“Is it though? Like is it really? It feels to me like we have truly hit bottom. There is no where lower we could sink than working for a woman pretending to be a pirate.” Jinx looks hard at Claud again. And Claud again says nothing since Claud is a mute.

“Steven Jinx my good man! Can you come here for a moment I’m in need of a scribe!”

The crew moans a little, less concerned with nearly being caught talking of mutiny than you would have imagined them to be. Jinx stands up and saunters off as well as you can on a boat. Everyone watches him leave because why wouldn’t you.

“He makes some good points,” Wee John starts. “Sailing with a woman is bad luck. “

“Unless that woman is Blackbeard,” Black Pete starts but everyone starts shouting at once about how Blackbeard doesn’t count since she made a deal with the Devil, since she is ghost, she’s not a real woman she’s a siren, she’s both male and female, and loudest of all is Artie shouting that Black Pete never sailed with Blackbeard anyways so what would he know.

Black Pete rubs a hand over his bald head. His cleft palette gives him a slight lisp but no one says shit about it because they are pirates not bullies.

“You can bet Blackbeard is not paying her crew for not pillaging that’s all I’m saying. Captain’s gotta go. “

~*~

Steve opens the door to the captain’s rooms. They are resplendent. The walls are shelved and the shelves are full of books. Beautiful, leather bound books. The kind of books no one should have on a ship, and the kind of books one should certainly not lend out to the crew if they want some “light reading”. Steve is pretty certain he is the only member of the crew who can read. If Captain knew that she would probably start lessons. Then there would be mutiny for sure.

“Ah Steve, there you are. Thank you for your promptness,” the Captain is seated at her desk, maps spread all over it. She takes off a pair of reading glass, folds them with a snap, sets them inside their case but doesn’t shut it. She pushes her chair and stands up, smoothing her hands over the peacock blue silk of her mantua, fluffing her sleeves ever so slightly. Her costume is a much slimmed down version of what she used to wear daily — she has a hooped petticoat or two with her of course but she doesn’t wear one on the ship. Her dark hair is up off of her neck in an attractive twist, pearl drops hang from her ears and a locket is around her neck.

Helena Wells left her husband six months ago. Society believes she was killed in a tragic accident while riding side saddle in the woods on the land her family stole from the Spanish, who stole it from the Kalinigo people. In fact she did not die but was spirited away and deposited on her ship, the Revenge.

Christopher had just turned 15 the previous winter. Helena and Martin commissioned the ship with the intent that Helena and Christopher would sail together when it was finished. Mother and son were both enthusiastic about being out on the ocean, but Martin had no stomach for sailing or desire to explore outside of his set of rooms.

Helena hoped she would have the ship finished and crewed quickly enough to get the heck out of Barbados before the Royal Navy got wind of her sweet boy who possessed a fierce talent for navigation as well as a knack for languages. The Royal Navy had been stealing — impressment they called it — young men in Barbados with a knack for sailing. They claimed to not take anyone younger than 18, but they were known to take boys as young as 14.

She was too late, a mistake she would not be making again.

“Did you have a task for me, Captain?” Please let there be a letter to write or more clouds to draw. Steve sends a silent prayer to the heavens. Please don’t ask about crew morale.

“How is the crew? Everyone adjusting well enough?”

Steve takes a breath, hesitating for less than a beat before replying, “Artie keeps licking the air.”

“I’m beginning to suspect he is a witch,” Captain Wells her tone bright and bemused. “I’ve never observed anyone else uses all their senses to navigate — and his accuracy is supernatural. A witch for certain. Splendid.”

“Have you known many navigators?” Steve probes. All he knows — all anyone knows — is that Helena Wells was born a wealthy lady and appears to have lost her freaking mind to become a pirate queen. Only she doesn’t seems to be crazy at all — in fact she is possibly the smartest person Steve has spent any length of time with. Her knowledge of sailing, navigation, astronomy, and modern medicine is almost as unbelievable as Artie being able to sense weather changes with his oral faculties.

Her motives for abandoning her family and taking to the sea are the source of much speculation among the crew.

“Probably she was just bored,” is always Olu’s response when the other ask him what he thinks drove the lady over the edge and into the sea. Claud says nothing of course, but his shoulders tend to get stiff and then he finds something to do elsewhere.

“I bet she was slowly poisoning her husband and he got wise to her and she bugged out before he could kill her a proper way. With a knife. In the heart.” Black Pete’s imagination is not boundless and his stories usually include stabbing of some sort.

“Poisoning is a woman’s way,” Frenchie agrees. “But I don’t think you could catch her if she put her mind to it. Probably she was having an affair and was supposed to meet him here on the ship and he never showed. She’s got that lost love look to her. Always rubbing that locket.”

This sets everyone back on their heels a bit and then they start trying to guess to themselves which if any of them could be the Captain’s secret lover. Which then makes everyone rather jumpy over the next few days.

Artie is the only one who knows more than he is saying. Mostly because he knows more about pretty much everything and everyone else talks too much. Except for Claud.

~*~

Meanwhile… across the ocean a ways, aboard a vessel feared by all, a woman dressed in black, aches for a way out of her dull, predicable life.

~*~

Artie knocks on Captain’s door. He has another missive that just arrived via his best friend, familiar, and Seagull, Karl. Helena and Christopher have been communicating by secret feathered post

for a few months now. Christopher is currently safe at a British outpost nearby where they send the young men born of high society to fast track them to being officers. While not high born, Christopher’s captain quickly realized that he would be wasted serving on a ship as cannon fodder. Helena taught him languages, navigation, and basic cartography skills. She is thankful that these skills have kept her boy off of a warship, but her plans to rescue him have grown tangled. She has finally come to the conclusion that she has to sit and wait for an opportunity. And also probably learn some piracy so that she can keep her crew alive.

“It’s best that we put into harbor for a few days. Republic of Pirates is nearby,” Artie informs her. “We need to make a wee bit of racket there. Just a very wee bit — just enough that no one takes it in there head to pick us off and steal the ship.”

“Excellent plan. I’m sure the crew could do with some shore leave as well. Plot the course and make it so, number one!” Helena is positively jovial after a message from Christopher. They write short messages in a secret code that pretty much add up to “I’m fine I love you,” but that’s enough.

~*~

The Republic of Pirates does not smell like Helena thought it would. She was imagining it to be more of a rum and body oder situation. Instead it smells like fermenting peppers, spicy and bitter. She is completely second guessing her outfit choice but there is nothing she can do about it now, so she throws her shoulders back and holds her head high. She’s wearing a dress of the finest silk, pale pink in color, with a black lace stomacher. She did not dawn her wig which she is very grateful for right now, her hair is low on her neck, curls falling across her shoulders.

The crew makes their way through the streets, stopping and chatting to people they know. All the pirates know each other, it seems. There is some chatter about going in a bar and before she knows it, Helena is stooping and squinting in the dark of Mrs. F’s Bar.

It is a greasy grimy place. The vinegar smell is now overpowering. Helena stands in the doorway, flanked on either side by Steve and Artie. Claud and Olu have disappeared into the darkest corner of the bar. Claud is somehow hiding even more of his face with his hat, which seemed impossible but maybe he made the brim bigger.

Helena clears her throat and walks into the dark room to the bar at the center rear. There are large jars with various flotsam floating in them. She goes about her business, ordering a nasty drink that nearly gives Steve a coronary, making a big show of being the new bossy lady in town. She does a fair job — took some theater in her youth — and for the most part, she is believed.

But. Deep in the darkest corner of the bar, a man sits. He swirls his drink in his glass and drinks the whole thing in one gulp. He reaches for his leather gloves and pulls them on, flexing his fingers. He’s seen what he came to see, and now it is time to report back to the boss.

Artie gives Helena a signal, letting her know that he thinks she has accomplished their mission. She misses the signal though because the witch is always playing with his nose so finally he has to cough and harrumph loudly to get her attention. They exit the bar, confident that they have avoided future confrontations with their fellow pirates for the time being.

Less confident about avoiding food poisoning.

~*~

“She’s hiding something.” The man from the bar had entered the hold of a ship. It is dark and musty smelling. He stands in the doorway. A figure is curled up in the round window at the stern of the room. When Pete Lattimer speaks, she unfurls herself like a lion and shakes out her mane before wrapping a dirty bandana around her forehead.

“Everyone is hiding something — that means literally nothing,” she replies with her back to him. Pete rolls his eyes. Takes a deep breath before replying:

“Okay, fair. She’s hiding a big something but she’s… She’s like… you ever play that game? With the little wooden pieces on the board?”

“Chess.” She shakes out a shirt that was once white and sniffs it.

“No… "

“Checkers.” She throws the shirt back on the floor.

“No it’s got the funny name. “

“Backgammon.” She continues to rummage, looking for something cleaner to wear but she is only fooling herself. The black leather pants and the tightly laced vest she wears will most likely dress her corpse.

“No. Fuck. Nine Men’s Morris. That’s the one. She’s got the game memorized. She plays from memory but like… she’s got no improv.”

“And she thinks she is already endgame.” She loops a belt around her waist and tucks a pistol into a holster.

“Exactly.”

“Dangerous?” She unsheathes her blade and sees her face reflected there, hollow and glassy eyed. She replaces the blade with a snap.

Pete snorts. He is picturing Helena in her fine pink silk, playing pirate.

“The Lady Pirate? Unlikely. But.”

Myka Bering finally turns and faces him. Pete Lattimer is a thief, a murderer, a teetotaler, and a brother.

“You’ve got a vibe.”

“There is something wrong here. With her.”

“Excellent.” Myka grins wickedly and follows Pete out the door into the bitter air.

~*~

The crew sees the dingy leave the large ship off the starboard bow. Three figures dressed in black.

“What do you suppose they’re up to?” Frenchie muses out loud after his turn with the spyglass.

“Could be anything,” Black Pete murmurs.

“Anything? Really?” Olu scoffs. “I’m pretty sure it’s just one thing. They’re coming over here to negotiate a surrender.”

“Shut up!“ Artie barks. He only yells when he is scared. “Someone go wake the Captain.”

Frenchie draws the short straw. He opens the door to the captain’s quarters. The shades are drawn over the large windows. Helena has been very, very sick since drinking God knows what at Mrs. F’s bar. Steve was not ill because he had the good sense to spit. However he has been pretending to be sick and is currently holed up in Claud and Oluwande’s room after seeing something he wasn’t supposed to (namely Claud’s boobs. Which they have because they were assigned female at birth. It’s only a matter of time before the rest of the crew figures it out but for this moment, Steve’s lips are sealed.)

“Captain,” Frenchie calls into the dark. “We’ve got a situation. There’s a dingy headed right for us. And the ship she hails from. She’s big captain. And mean. The colors she’s flying… it’s Blackbeard. We’re certain.”

Helena is pretty sure she is gonna die here, on this boat, of dysentery. She read about treating such sickness with water laced with salt slowly and consistently. Roach recommended a banana so Helena somehow got that down as well. Still. She was pretty sure she might never leave this bed.

But. She is the Captain. And the Captain must be present when someone is boarding her boat. Especially if that someone is Blackbeard. So Helena girds her loins and throws on robe, cinches it tight, and makes it all the way to the doorway before she passes out.

French calls for help and Olu helps him get Helena back into bed.

“Well. Been nice knowing you.”

“Same.”

~*~

They do not get murdered by the pirates (the other pirates) at this time. Instead everyone of them is so completely starstruck, they’ve completely forgotten that just moments ago they were pretty sure they were about to be murdered.

“Why do they call her Blackbeard though?” Steve asks his shipmates. They are all sitting together, still a little unsure if they are about to be murdered, but mostly just having the time of their lives. “ She’s not Black and she doesn’t have a beard nor is she a beard… I don’t get that vibe off Pete.”

Pete Lattimer has hushed bent together with another pirate. He growls at the prisoners to shut up but he is ignored.

“Well I'm Black Pete and I’m not Black either.”

“Yeah I also don’t get that,” Steve smirks.

“A story for another time. Blackbeard is called Blackbeard because all anyone could see when she was murdering them was that gorgeous hair blowing around all sexy it just looked like a beard. Flowing. In the wind.”

“That can’t be it,” Wee John protests.

Frenchie agrees, “yeah that doesn’t sound right at all. Where did she even go? She moves like a ghost?”

“I think she’s in with the captain,” Steve is pretty she he should also be in there recording everything but alas.

“Captain is gonna get a shock when she wakes up to find fucking Blackbeard standing over her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she drops dead,” Black Pete had more to say but once again the crew is throwing shit at him telling him to shut up.

~*~

Myka isn’t sure what she was expecting to feel when she saw Helena, but she knows that she isn’t feeling it. She thought… all she knows she feels like crying. Like you do when you’re a child and you’ve skinned your knee and you don’t cry until your mother scoops you up. You don’t cry until you feel safe.

She sits beside Helena for a little over an hour. Watching her sleep, and then looking around the ridiculous room. She runs her hands over the leather-bound spines of the books but she doesn’t pull any of them out to turn the pages. her hands are too dirty for that.

Finally Helena stirs. Myka reaches out for her hands to soothe her, to make sure she’s not afraid when she wakes up, and then pulls back at the last second. Helena opens her eyes.

“It’s you,” she says.

Myka, for just a beat, wonders if she herself is dreaming and that this is what Prince Charming must feel. She feels an unfamiliar smile start to break her face apart and she smothers it.

“You’re fevered,” she finally croaks.

“Do you work for Blackbeard?”

Myka nearly laughs but then she furrows her brow.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Hadn’t really thought of it that way.” Somehow this wasn’t the conversation she thought they would be having. She tried to imagine this part so many times and it can go so many different ways.

“I’m Helena. Helena Wells. I’m more than a little embarrassed about the state I’m in.” Helena sits up with Myka’s help and mops her brow with a white handkerchief.

Uncertain of what to do next, a most unusual feeling for her, makes Myka chokes a little as she returns the handshake and says “I’m Myka Bering.” Helena doesn’t react to her name, and a dagger is plunged into Myka’s breast.

“Yes, well. I seem to have recovered to enough to go down with the ship. Does Blackbeard only employ women? I’ve heard she is remarkable. Read mostly.”

Myka hesitates for a moment. Part of her knows she should end this game and put her Blackbeard pants back on. But the other part. The part that has been bored fucking silly. The part that she left behind when she left home as a teenager, to find her fortune and maybe some fame, to return home triumphant. The part that longs for a happy ending for herself however unlikely that might be. That part of her wins because she wants to be with Helena a moment longer. Life is pain and sometimes the pain reminds us we are alive.

“You’ll meet her soon enough. She does employ a lot of women but men, too. Whoever can stomach the work really.” Myka stands up and lifts her arms over head, shaking herself out like a rumpled blanket. “You have so many books. It’s just...”

“Amazing isn’t it?” Helena reaches for her robe and drapes it around herself, belting it with its gold sash. The robe is deep scarlet and makes the fevered flush of her cheeks more pronounced.

“Yeah sure but also. Boat. Water. Books. Not the most practical plan but then you….” Myka looks at Helena and then looks away again, pretending to be peering at titles. “You must be a great reader.”

“I love books. Windows into other times and places… so many different lives to live. Nothing is better than a good mystery, a romance.”

“You’re a romantic? And you became a pirate? Did you read the job description?”

Helena grins and walks over to the bookcase on the closest wall. “A job is what you make of it and life deserves some romantic adventure!” She reaches for a book but when she pulls it out, a secret door to her left opens inward. She turns to Myka, triumphant.

Myka laughs. Full on from the belly laughter. “You have to be fucking kidding me. Are you insane?”

“Life’s a story right? If I get to write my own there will surely be secret passages,” Helena replies laughing along with Myka, her fever forgotten. What a sound! She would do anything to make this person laugh like that again. “You wanna see inside?”

Myka breathes out in a big slow breath. “Hell yes,” she hears herself answer. Myka’s heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high. She felt as though she and Helena were standing atop the walls having flown there from a great distance. She was pretty sure they were about to fall. Was it the walls crumbling, or were they being pushed?

*~*

“You’re a witch,” the pirate who called herself Myka Bering says after looking around for a moment.

“No. Artie is the witch. I’m an alchemist. I like knowing how things work and why and I study the stars. I also dabble — dabble mind you — in medicine. This is my equipment. My laboratory.” Helena has not shown another soul this room. She is not embarrassed, rather she is so proud that she doesn’t want anyone else to shatter her joy. Why she is trusting this Myka person with this secret… she blames the fever. Who is this woman? She’s like flying too close to the sun.

“Wow. A Lady Pirate, a secret lab. You are full of surprises,” Myka grins at her and raises one eyebrow. Helena fells flushed and again tells herself it is the fever. Myka smirks as though she has read her mind. The moment is spoiled when they hear a noise from the other room.

Another pirate has entered the room and calls for Myka. She is dark skinned and has long curly dark hair. She also wears leather from head to toe and has a long wicked looking blade at her hip.

Helena peers at her through the secret peep hole (naturally) and whispers to Myka. “Is that Blackbeard?”

“No. That’s Leena. I’m Blackbeard.”

Helena turns her back on the peep hole and stares open mouthed at Myka. Myka cannot help it — she feels wicked from head to toe — and she winks at Helena. This and the fever that still grips Helena causes her to sway slightly and Myka is instantly by her side, her arm around Helena’s back, her rough hands taking Helena’s.

“I swear I’m not going to faint on you. My pride could not bare it,” she whispers.

“I promise not to tell if you do,” Myka whispers back.

Leena has given up on finding Blackbeard by now and the coast is clear. Myka leaves her arm around Helena, holds open the passage door, and helps her to the large sofa. Myka paces around, inebriated and agitated, finally coming to stand at Helena’s desk.

“Is this supposed to be me?”Myka squints incredulously at the pen and ink illustration in the tome Helena has open, resting on all of her maps. The imfamous Blackbeard the caption reads. The drawing has Myka standing on the bow of a burning ship, a saber in her hand, her hair blowing out and across her face. Her skirts are tattered and blowing open, revealing her legs to the knees. She is barefoot, bareheaded, and well… very very little of her breasts are not showing. The illustrator has pictured Myka about three times as well endowed as she is and her ample bosum is spilling from her stays.

“This is ridiculous. Who could fight in that? Barefoot have they ever been in a battle? There is shit and blood everywhere you don’t wanna step in that in your barefeet. And my boobs. What is going on — am I a wet nurse on the weekends? Holy hell.”

Helena laughs, a throatier laugh than Myka was expecting. She would rather like to hear that laugh again.

“Your actual costume is something I fear no man could conjure up from imagination. I don’t think I’ve ever seen full leather breeches on anyone, man or woman. And your vest…”

“So it is actually quite practical. Leather protects you from most glancing blows. Even a sharp sword has a little trouble.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#beringandwellsappreciationweek #bering and wells #myka bering #helena wells #au #warehouse 13

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fivnas · 2 years

Text

🌦 « dakota johnson. cis female. she/her. 33. » was that FIONA MILLER walking through the doors of amorelux ? i heard they just moved in to apartment 605 from NEW YORK CITY and work as a record store owner. they seem eccentric & loyal but don’t get on their bad side ! they can be sporadic & irresponsible which makes sense since they’re a CAPRICORN. you know they’re home when you see a flash of having a smoke on top of a balcony with cool air surrounding , sitting on top of a kitchen counter while eating ice cream from the tub , & pulling out a duct tape wallet from high school.

hi hi ! i’m sim and i’m super uper excited to be here ! i’m playing a pretty new character and it’s gonna be so much fun to develop her with all of y’all ! a few things about me - my tummy be hurting , i bearing noise cancelling headphones , and i talk about traffic a lot ! i’m a more hc type of girl so below find a bit about fiona’s bg but mostly a bunch of fun little hcs ! if you’re interesting in plotting hit me up on my disco ( sprite#7124 ) !!

@amoreluxintro

PINTEREST - WANTED CONNECTIONS

background

fiona is from nyc born & raised ! she’s a pretty big trust fund baby but had a falling out with her parents during college. she was ultimately cut off completely and basically had to learn life skills at the age of twenty one. she was on her own , without her parents trying to live her life and let’s just say it got pretty funny. once she needed to find a new income she decided to work for the place she was basically always at - the championship vinyl. as time went on her relationship with the owners ( an older couple ) became stronger. they both easily became a parental figure to fiona and she basically owed who she was to them ! as of recent the owners wanted to expand the shop across the nation to seattle. BUT the catch was they asked fiona to essentially own and overlook the shop over there. kinda like caring on their legacy ! and ever since she’s been in seattle and working over at championship vinyl and living at amorelux !

parallels: nick miller ( new girl ) , max blum ( happy endings ) , charlie kelly ( it’s always sunny ) , eleanor shellstrop ( the good place ) , steven hyde ( that 70′s show ) , ben wyatt ( parks & rec ) , robyn brooks ( high fidelity )

headcanons

fiona does ballet ! she might be a clutz but it’s the one thing that suck around with her from the past

honestly is able to take care of herself , but has a niche way of doing so ( e.g, she’s gotta shake the prndl a bit before turning on her car

is the biggest music and movie geek. her favorite artist is fleetwood mac and her favorite movie is house bunny.

literally only owns margarita glasses in her studio , so when you come over expect water in a marg glass

always has mismatched socks , always. at this point when she does laundry to makes sure she pairs them mismatched

every other day she probably wears her shirt inside out and only notices when someone points it out at the shop

never really acts like she owns championship vinyl. she is always there from morning to night , working behind the register and walking around

eats popcorn like its her life. has the big old costco one but like 4 of them at all times

go to drink is a glass of whiskey bc she’s a weirdo

the bangs are her personality

she’s a big planner person but she doesnt just keep one. she has like 5 , one at work, one by her bed, one in her car, one with her at all times. oof

blow up - with all those planners she fr be forgetting a lot of things

listens to the twilight soundtrack when she’s sad :/

doesnt own an umbrella and refuses to buy one .. i kNOW WEIRD RIGHT like babe you’re in seattle

her favorite color is orange because she felt bad not a lot of people liked the color

always wins thumb wars - not sure why or how but she slays

added lol to the end of every sentences thru text like it’s a punctuation mark

#ahq:intro #oh besties im watching the black phone rn and shiver me timbers #text

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duxpuella · 3 years

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could you do a meek x reader headcanons?

Headcanons of little things Steven M. would do in a relationship with (fem!) reader

<Atention: Modern AU where Neil lives, and Welton’s a boys & girls school.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of "heated moments", mentions of cigars/smoking; >

Note: Y/n - your name/ Y/Ln - your last name/ Y/fn - your friend’s; Also, I put as a (fem!) reader but i can make a (male!) or (gn!) version. :)

Also, here's my Meeks playlist, hope you enjoy it!

Meeks is a man of action, not words;

Greet you with a peck on your hand like a damn victorian EVERY TIME you meet;

He would make sure you're drinking your water and not skipping any meals. A full glass of water is placed in front of you and he will not leave until you drink it all. No time for lunch? He will take a damn plate for you and make you eat it;

If you ever called on it and asked for a reason he would go "I'm keeping you.";

Every time he has the chance, gifting you with something to support your hobbies (pens, sketchbooks, anything related to it....);

"Steven, you're aware that you do not need to bring me a gift every time you go out right?" "Yeah." "So?" "So... what? *legit confused*" "Will you stop?" "Wh- you don't like it?" "I DO! I-i do, but-" "Then no, why would I stop?" "It's not necessary, I don't want you to keep wasting money like this." "If you want to convince me you'll have to give me a better excuse than that." He said smiling coy and sipping from a coffee mug, "Plus, it's not a waste of money, you always get excited with it, is lovely."

The first times you sleep in his dorm, he will let you have the bed. You had to slide to the floor with him a couple of times until he gave up and shared the bed with you. "You want to share the bed today? Oh-oh, that's bold," you said with a mischievous smile "Well, my beloved (Y/n), I tried repeatedly to be a gentleman and sleep on the floor but every morning you were in beside me, relentlessly. Who's fault it is, huh?" "I regret nothing." and he giggled while a pink shade covered his cheeks;

Shared Spotify sessions ALL THE TIME!!!!

And speaking of songs, he would show you face to face every new song he comes across just to see your reaction;

Would gift you with personalized playlists FOR SURE;

Serenade you whenever he got drunk or losen up. Here are a few songs he sang to you:

I'm a Believer by The Monkees (he said it was The perfect song for you, this one happened on a karaoke hang out with all of the poets when you started dating);

Stargazing by TNBH (while dancing with you, was clumsy but really cute);

Creep by Radiohead (baby boy was drunk and a bit depressed);

Beggin' by Maneskin (he got carried away and literally got on his knees lol Charlie picked on him for at least a week non stop);

Old fashion loverboy by Queen (One time he saw you staring at a couple being super duper cheesy in public and felt you wanted some romance);

Never gonna give you up by Rick Astley ('cause you cannot tell me otherwise);

Lovesong, Adele's version (this one was on a late-night date, he waltzed slowly with you and passionately whispered the lyrics to your ear);

One time, things were getting heated and you expressed insecurities in your body. He just went "Hey, I think you're beautiful anyway, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I can just-" Then proceeded to take off his glasses in a half-clumsy half seductive way, "There, I won't see," and you both started laughing;

Would 10/10 read for you, all you gotta do is ask and give him the book in question;

All of the boys are canonically smokers, and if you were too, he would make sure to light it for you every time;

Terrible dad jokes, just so he can see you smile;

Small love notes in latin;

Finally, his hoodies are yours, that's not up for discussion. Borrow it whenever you want (he loves to see you wearing it);

Hope you like it! I take requests by ask! (info on requests);

Also, you’ll find more of my writing here.

#duxpuella headcanons #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps fic #dps hc #steven meeks #steven meeks x reader

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elianamarie-blog · 3 years

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Hiii! Can you do one Hyde and y/n are secretly together bc she’s Forman’s sister but Kelso is always flirting with y/n and it upsets Hyde so maybe Kelso and Hyde get into it and they admit they are together?

Yes, baby doll! Thank you for being patient with me <3

Told You So

Steven Hyde x reader

"Hey, good lookin'," Kelso said smoothly to Y/n as he slid in the booth seat of the Hub.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him as she scooted away from him. "Kelso, do you mind? I'm trying to eat here."

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here by yourself?" he asked, completely ignoring her.

"Because I want to be," she said and slammed the book she was reading. "And why are you acting like that? We see each other everyday."

"Yeah, but we're not alone everyday," he replied and scooted closer. "Now we are."

"There's a reason for that, Kelso." She shifted further away from him, closer to the edge, but all that did was make him shift with her. "If Eric found out what you've been trying to do, he'd kick your ass."

"Oh, come on, he doesn't have to know!"

"Kelso, even if we did, you wouldn't be able to keep your fat mouth shut. When you were with Laurie, you announced it to the whole world that you slept with her. I don't need that." She gathered up her stuff and started to head out, but Kelso stood up with her.

"So, you're saying there's a chance?" he grinned stupidly at her.

"No, you dink," she spat and pushed passed him. "I don't like you and I don't want to get with you. Why don't you get that?"

She walked outside while Kelso watched her leave, staring at her ass.

"She totally wants me."

Later in the basement...

"I don't know why he even keeps hitting on me," Y/n said to Donna, Jackie, and Hyde while in the basement. Donna and Y/n sat on the couch, Jackie in the lawn chair, and Hyde in his usual seat. "We've been friends forever and he never looked at me like that until, like, a year ago."

"Well, have you looked in a mirror lately?" Hyde asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you notice your new shirt fillers?"

Y/n looked down at herself, then realized what he meant. "You're saying he's trying to get me in the sack because of my knockers?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Hyde grinned. "Even a blind man can see how much you've grown into your shirts."

"Ugh, what a pig," Jackie sneered. "I'm glad I broke up with him."

"Jackie, to be fair, you broke up with him because he cheated on you," Donna pointed out.

"Eh, whatever," Jackie said, flapping her hand to the side.

"Okay, seriously, guys, how do I get him to stop?" Y/n asked, turning the conversation back around. "Eric gets pissed and tells him to shut up, but he finds new ways to still hit on me."

"Tell him to get bent and that you've found someone else," Hyde suggested.

Y/n eyed him suspiciously. "Kelso may be a bonehead, but when it comes to women and sex, he's freaking Sherlock Holmes."

"Well, then lie."

"Lie?" Y/n asked and fully turned to him. "And say what? That I'm seeing someone so back off before he kicks your ass?"

"Exactly."

Y/n thought about it for a minute and then turned to the girls. "What do you girls think?"

Donna and Jackie shrugged.

"It could work," Jackie said.

"I don't think it's a bad idea," Donna responded. "Kelso doesn't like competition. He'll bitch a lot, but at least he'll back off."

Y/n shrugged. "It's worth a try."

"Good," Jackie said and stood up. "I should get going. My mom is going to attempt to make dinner tonight. If you see the fire department at my house, you'll know what happened." She walked over to the door and tugged it open. "But on the bright side, there'll be lots of fireman. Bye!"

"Maybe I can get a piece of that action," Y/n joked, making Donna laugh.

"I better get going too," she said. "I have to meet your brother at the hub for our date."

"Ohhh, where's he taking you? Mt. Hump?" Hyde asked.

"Ew, gross! Hyde!" Y/n shrieked, making Hyde laugh. "That's my little brother."

"Little?" Hyde asked. "You guys are only ten months apart."

"I'm still older by a couple months."

"Whatever you say," Hyde said, unconcerned and crossed his arms.

"Actually, no, he's taking me somewhere else for once," Donna said, grabbing her coat. "He says it's a surprise."

"I can guarantee his surprise is what's in his pants," Hyde said.

Donna rolled her eyes and looked at Y/n. "Good luck with him."

Y/n nodded as she watched Donna leave the basement. She turned back to him who was staring at her through his aviators. "Now I know what's on your mind."

"How could it not be when you're here looking like that," he responded and stood up only to crawl his way onto her, making her lie on her back.

A smirk played at her lips as she reached up and removed his glasses, finally seeing those blown pupils in his baby blue eyes. "Looking like what, Mr. Hyde?"

He growled at the nickname as he dipped his head into her neck, peppering her flesh with light kisses. She closed her eyes and leaned her head to the side to give him more access.

"All hot and don't even know it," he muttered, trailing his hands up her blouse. He brought his face up to meet hers and pressed his mouth against hers.

"You are mine," he growled when he pulled apart from her. "Not Kelso's. Mine."

She nodded. "Now show me just why I'm yours."

The next day...

The gang hung out in the basement as usual as the tv played quietly in the background. Y/n sat on the couch wearing a mini skirt wearing Hyde's Led Zepplin shirt, reading a magazine. Kelso couldn't help but stare at her bare sun kissed legs, his eyes roaming and try to see under her skirt.

"Stop staring at me," Y/n demanded.

"Well, I'm sorry, Y/n, but you're freakin' hot!" he responded.

"Hey, Kelso, have you tried not hitting on my sister?" Eric asked calmly, yet sarcastically.

"I gotta, Eric," Kelso asked. "It's like asking me not to breathe!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at Y/n. "I know! We should do it."

Y/n shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to the magazine. "You are as dumb as you are pretty."

Kelso smirked and leaned on the arm rest next to her, face inches from hers. "So, you're saying I'm pretty?"

She tore her eyes from the magazine and made eye contact with him, noses barley brushing, and glared at him. "Bite me, Kelso," she spit before pushing his face away from hers.

"Is that a promise?," Kelso asked, smirking.

Hyde walked out of his room in that moment, seeing Kelso on the floor and Y/n sitting on the couch. When he moved from behind the couch to his seat, he noticed Y/n wearing his shirt. "Is that my shirt?"

Y/n looked up at him with a hint of innocence in her eyes. "Yeah, I saw it in the dryer and thought it looked comfy. Plus, I thought it'd look good with this skirt. Is that okay?"

"Um," he replied, swallowing thickly as he scanned her body, especially at her smooth and shapely legs. "Yeah. It's whatever."

She grinned at him. "Thank you."

"Whoa," Eric said as he stood from the couch. "Since when do you let chicks wear your shirts?"

Hyde shrugged. "I never had a problem with it to begin with."

"Yes, you did," Donna said with a smile on her face. "You said that no girl will ever your shirts unless you're banging her." Her eyes grew wide as she shot up from her seat. "Are you two sleeping together?!"

"What?" Y/n asked calmly. "Don't be crazy; of course we're not."

"Good, because you know if you were, I'd have to kick your ass, Hyde," Eric said, relief flooding over him as he went over to the fridge to grab a popsicle.

"What's the big deal? It's just a shirt," Hyde replied and set his feet up on the table, crossing his arms. "Besides, I live here. Why would it be weird?"

"I don't know," Fez replied. "I mean it's pretty obvious you have the hots for her."

"Shut up, Fez," Hyde said threateningly. "I do not."

"Oh, sure," he replied quietly.

"So, on this whole doing it," Kelso said and knelt down next to Y/n. "Are we doing it or not?"

Hyde didn't hesitate to reach over and connect his fist as hard he could to Kelso's shoulder.

"Ow, Hyde! What the hell was that for?"

Hyde grinned at his dopey best friend. He tried his hardest not to just beat the ever living hell out of him, but luckily for him, he had a good poker face. "Just love messing with you, man."

Kelso went from offended to laughing in seconds. "That's a good one." He turned back to Y/n. "So, what do you say?"

"You know, you begging me like this is kinda hot," Y/n commented with hooded eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" Kelso asked, shifting to be eye level with her.

"Yeah," she smiled and inhaled deeply.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" Hyde asked.

"Yeah, what he said," Eric said. "Look, I don't need Kelso sleeping with both my sisters AND worry about knocking her up to. It's like a weird porno soap opera."

"You know what also is really hot?" Y/n asked, ignoring her brother and secret boyfriend.

"What?" he giggled, loving how close they were.

"Leaving me alone!" she responded and hit him with the magazine she was holding.

The group chuckled as Kelso stood up. "Damn, Y/n, I just wanted to get a little action!"

"Leave her alone, man. It's like you're deaf," Hyde said, annoyed.

"Hey, I've never given up on a girl before and I'm not going to start now!" Kelso defended.

"Well, you better!" Hyde said, growing frustrated. "I'm tired of hearing this everyday, man. So, shut up and leave her alone before I make you."

"Damn, Hyde, what's got your panties in a twist?" Kelso asked glumly and stood up.

"Nothing. I'm just tired of hearing you everyday trying to get into her pants! So, knock it off!"

"Well, it's not like she's your girlfriend, so you knock it off!" Kelso argued.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Hyde asked, smirking.

The entire time the two men were arguing, Y/n found herself, staring incredulously at them as if she was a prize.

"Well, I can tell you to get bent and I'll do whatever I like, but I know you'll hit me," Kelso said.

"You just basically said it to me, you moron!" Hyde said, yelling. "And now I'm going to hit you."

Kelso took a couple steps back, backing away from Hyde. "You do that and it will not end well for you."

"Okay, guys stop it!" Y/n shouted, jumping up from her seat. "This isn't cool. Kelso sit down over there," she said pointing to the lawn chair. "And Hyde, sit down over there." She pointed to his usual seat.

Hyde and Kelso glared at each other for a minute.

"Fine," Hyde said and turned around.

"Fine," Kelso repeated and sat down in the lawn chair. "But I think something else that would've been interested to know on what exactly I was going to do."

As everyone looked at him in confusion, Kelso reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of pink panties.

"What the hell, Kelso?!" Y/n shrieked. "Are those my panties?!"

Kelso smirked in victory as he held the panties close to his ear. "What's that panties? You want me to do what to you? Oh, I can't do that. Naughty panties!" He clapped the cotton fabric between his hands and glanced over at Hyde who was practically steaming from the ears.

"You're dead," Hyde spat through gritted teeth and practically lunged at Kelso.

Before Kelso could react, Hyde was on top of him, his fists hitting wherever they would land.

"Hyde! What the--Ow! My eye!" Kelso shouted.

Before Hyde could connect his fist once more, he felt two arms wrap under his arms and around his chest and was pulled off the man.

"Hyde, get off of him before you really hurt him!" Eric shouted, trying to be heard over Kelso's wailing.

"What is it with you?!" Kelso asked. "We're just messing around!"

"No, you're not!" Hyde yelled, ripping himself from Eric's grip. "You're being a complete tool to Y/n."

"Why do you care this much?" Kelso asked with Y/n's panties still in hand. Y/n walked over and snatched her panties back from his grip.

"Because she's my chick, man!" Hyde blurted, but quickly realized what he just said as he saw everyone's wide eyes on him. Except for Y/n who was eyeing her brother.

"She's...she's your...what now?" Eric sputtered.

"Uhm...I meant...she's a--a chick," Hyde said, trying to save himself.

"No, no. No, no. You just she's your chick," Jackie corrected, pointing a finger at him. "Don't try to wiggle yourself out of this one."

"She's...uh--uh...Y/n, a little help here?" he asked his girlfriend who was standing there awkwardly.

"What he meant to say was that as a woman he respects me and he didn't appreciate Kelso's boneheaded advances towards me," she said, rather smoothly even though her voice wavered.

Eric stared at his sister wide eyed with his mouth open. "You guys are dating?"

The couple sighed in defeat as Hyde rubbed his hot neck. "Yeah."

Y/n nodded, trying not to look Eric in the eye.

"Have you two...had s-sex?" Eric stuttered, forcing that image out of his mind.

"Eric!" Donna said. "You don't ask that."

"Do you really want to know that answer?" Hyde asked.

Eric screwed his eyes shut, now the image really colorful behind his eyelids. He shoved the heel of his hand deep into his eyes until he saw different shapes, desperate to erase the unholy sin that was between his sister and best friend.

"How long?" Kelso asked after he was able to get over the initial shock enough to speak.

"About a month," Y/n responded with a strong voice.

"A month?!" Eric cried out. "You've been screwing my sister for a month?! Oh, God." He forced himself to swallow the bile that had risen up his throat.

"You sure it hasn't been longer than that?" Jackie asked. "Because, you know, sometimes, time can feel a lot shorter when you're...having fun."

"Don't call it that!" Eric yelled and eyed the couple who were now standing near each other. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening! My best friend and my sister bumping uglies? Why would you two do this?"

"Because I like him?" Y/n challenged. "And he likes me."

"Yeah, man. We're not just fooling around."

"I don't care what you're doing or not doing!" Eric shouted, face turning red. "You went behind my back and starting dating my sister when you knew it would bother me!"

"Forman--"

"No! Don't even--! You know what? I--I can't stay here. I need some air," Eric said before he stormed out the basement.

The couple looked after him, sighing and turned back to the group.

"By the way, yes, it's been a month," Y/n said, answering Jackie's question.

"Ah, damn!" she replied and pulled out ten dollar bill from her wallet and handed it to Fez.

Fez whooped and gleefully took the money. "Told you!"

I hope you enjoyed this one! Let me know if there is anything I could've added! Thanks for reading my lovely.

#steven hyde #that 70s show #that 70's show imagine #eric forman #donna pinciotti #jackie burkhart #fez that 70s show #michael kelso

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 years

Text

Day 22: Yellow

John Harrington stood in the foyer of his house in Loch Nora, brow furrowed. It was the first time in his life that he had come home to find the house looking so...occupied. And sure, he and Irene hadn’t mentioned that they were coming back to Hawkins because it had been so last minute, but even so, Steve usually did a better job keeping it looking tidy. He was expected to do a better job.

John moved further into the house, noting new details. Steve’s sneakers were in the front hallway, alongside a pair of heavy boots, and every hook on the coat rack was filled. John saw two leather jackets that he was sure didn’t belong to Steve and a denim jacket covered in patches that he also didn’t recognize. The coffee table in the living room was covered in books and papers, and there was a stack of dirty plates in the sink. John set his bags down and glanced over at Irene, but she seemed as bemused as he was.

The basement door stood open, and they followed a heavy clank of metal on metal down the stairs. John stopped dead at the bottom, taking in the scene. All the furniture in the room was pushed up against the walls to create an open space in the center, where Steve was on his back on a weight bench. He was breathing heavily as he pressed up a bar with what seemed like a significant amount of weight on it. Another boy, blond and built like he knew exactly what he was doing with a set of weights, was spotting him. Steve finished a rep with clear effort and set the bar back on the rack. John glanced over at Irene, who had a little smile on her face. He frowned; she had always been too lenient with their son.

“Ugh,” Steve said, “I thought I would be able to do more reps.” The blond smirked down at him.

“You gotta be patient, pretty boy.” He flexed a bicep and turned to kiss it. “You don’t get results like these overnight.” Steve rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

“Steven?” John said, and the effect was immediate. Steve’s head whipped around and he started to quickly sit up. The other boy threw a protective hand between Steve’s forehead and the bar, preventing what probably would have been a painful collision. Steve didn’t take his gaze off of John as he ducked past the bar and sat up. The boy let his hand drop back to his side, but he took a step closer to Steve.

“Mom, Dad,” Steve said, standing up. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“Clearly,” John said, waving a hand at the stairs behind him. Steve flushed a little and his brows drew down. John opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but Irene’s hand was suddenly at his elbow, gently pulling him back toward the stairs. He glowered at her, but her eyes were on Steve and the other boy.

“We’ll need to unpack and freshen up,” she said calmly, glancing at her watch. “Dinner will be served at seven.” She looked back up. “I assume you boys will have no trouble being ready by then?” The two of them exchanged a quick, wordless glance that appeared to contain an entire conversation.

“No problem, Mom,” Steve said. “We can be ready.”

“Lovely,” Irene said with a smile, and then she steered John back upstairs. They picked up their bags in the foyer and John followed Irene to the second floor. He was thinking about the argument he was about to have with his wife about her intervention, but he stopped dead at the door to Steve’s room. His jaw dropped as he pushed the door open wider.

“Are you seeing this?” he demanded. Irene nodded slowly as she took in the room. The plaid wallpaper was gone. Instead, three of the walls were a cool grey color. The fourth wall, opposite Steve’s bed, was a bright, cheerful yellow. “Did you approve this?” John asked Irene, who had that small smile on her face again.

“I would have,” she said, “but he didn’t ask.” John shook his head. “Unbelievable.” Steve was behaving as though the house belonged to him. Whoever the other boy was, he was clearly a bad influence.

“What the hell was that, downstairs?” John demanded of Irene as soon as the door to the master suite closed behind them.

“Exactly what I looked like, I expect,” she said serenely, opening her suitcase and pulling out her toiletry bag.

“You know what I meant. I’m not sure why you intervened. He owes us an explanation,” John said.

“And he can provide one over dinner, if you absolutely insist,” she replied.

“And since when does Steve lift weights?” he demanded, irritated all over again that he had come home to a house that had changed, and a son who hadn’t yet apologized for it.

“Oh, I imagine those came with the boy,” Irene said with that same little smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You better believe that I will be talking to Steven about that situation. His friend seems far too at home in this house. It’s probably his fault everything is in disarray.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think?” Irene asked absently. She was facing away from him, looking into the vanity mirror as she removed her makeup.

“No, I don’t,” he said stubbornly. “The boy painted his room without consulting us, and the basement is barely usable.”

“I don’t see why that matters. You only ever spend time in your office when we’re here.” There was a pause.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” John finally said.

“Hmm,” was all Irene said in response.

“I don’t see why you included that boy in our dinner plans. Steven should have sent him home as soon as we arrived.” Irene stopped what she was doing and turned to face her husband. Her expression was amused.

“Darling,” she said patiently, and John knew she was growing irritated with him. She hadn’t called him that sincerely in a very long time. “You’re a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. There are three additional coats on the coat rack, and it’s sixty-eight degrees outside, so he didn't wear all of them over here today. Additionally, there isn’t a teenager in the world who brings every single one of his textbooks over for a study date, and most of those books were for classes that Steve isn’t even taking.” John frowned at that. He hadn’t noticed that because he didn’t know what classes Steve was taking. He was a little surprised that Irene did. She continued. “And that weight bench, as we both know, isn’t Steve’s. That boy is living here, and probably has been for a while.” She intentionally did not mention the thick Stephen King book and the pair of reading glasses John obviously hadn’t noticed on the second nightstand in Steve’s room. Horror had never been Steve’s preferred genre, and he didn’t wear glasses.

“Well, I’m putting a stop to it,” John announced. Irene stared at him for a long moment, eyes going a little hard, though her smile stayed in place.

“We’re here for three days,” she said. “How exactly are you planning to control what Steve does after we leave?”

“I’ll threaten to cut him off. That should communicate the seriousness of the situation.” Irene stared for a beat and then turned back around to continue removing her makeup.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she corrected calmly.

“I’ll do as I see fit,” he shot back. She nodded to herself and set down the cloth in her hand. Then she turned around again, standing up to face him.

“Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with?” she asked, voice low. She hadn’t bothered to raise her voice at him in years. “Because you seem to be under the mistaken impression that I’m one of the sycophants you insist on surrounding yourself with.” She took a step toward him. “Here’s what you’re actually going to do. You’re going to unpack and freshen up. You’re going to go do whatever it is you do in your office until it’s time for dinner, and then you’re going to come eat. You’re going to be polite to our son and his friend.” John raised his eyebrows at her.

“I don’t see any reason why I should allow you to dictate my behavior,” he said, his tone condescending. Her answering smile was sharp.

“You actually don’t know, do you?” she murmured, shaking her head. “Steve turned eighteen two months ago. I do hope your assistant remembered to send a gift.” She saw the significance of it land. John swallowed. “Just so that we’re on the same page,” she continued, “if you decide that it is a good idea to berate or threaten our son, who is an adult, or his friend, you will very quickly find yourself in the middle of some probably very contentious divorce proceedings.” John glared at her.

“You wouldn’t,” he said confidently. “Your reputation stands to suffer as much as mine does.”

“I don’t care,” she said bluntly. “It’s been years since I cared what anyone in Hawkins thinks of me. The only thing you had to hold over my head was custody, and now that our son is an adult, your leverage is gone.”

“You cannot—“ he started to say, but she took a step closer and cut him off.

“We have an arrangement," she said, "and it's working. I get the freedom to live as I please most of the time, and you get the image of a perfect family on the rare occasions that you need it. It would be a shame to disrupt it simply because you are incapable of keeping your disapproval to yourself for three days.” John fumed, but he also backed down. He knew defeat when he heard it. He stalked off to the closet to change without further comment, unreasonably annoyed by the way Irene hummed to herself while she sat back down to finish removing her makeup. It wasn’t until later that he realized she had been humming Handel’s “Hail the Conquering Hero.”

An hour later, Irene had freshened up and was on her way down to the kitchen to start dinner. She stopped when she heard Steve’s hushed voice coming from the living room.

“Billy, I’m serious!” Then Steve gasped as if he had just realized something and groaned. “Oh my god, they probably saw my room.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“They should be thanking us for that, baby. The plaid wallpaper was a crime.”

“You don’t understand. My dad is going to—“ Steve stopped. “Hey, B, no,” he said in a softer voice. “Not like that. He’s not…I’m sorry. Come here.” Irene turned around and made her way silently back up the stairs, wanting to give her son and the boy he was obviously dating the time they deserved to finish their conversation. Dinner could wait.

Irene smiled to herself as she thought about how delighted Annette would be to learn that Steve had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who was right about the plaid wallpaper—it had been John’s idea, after he saw it in a magazine somewhere. The yellow was a vast improvement. Maybe the bedroom in her apartment in Paris could use an accent wall, Irene mused. She couldn’t wait to get back there, as soon as their weekend of pretending to be a happily married couple was over.

Your reputation stands to suffer, John had said, and he wasn’t wrong. The people of Hawkins would absolutely frown on her lifestyle, her life in Paris with her beloved Annette. But it certainly looked like that revelation wasn’t going to bother her son at all, and if Steve didn’t mind, Irene truly couldn’t care less if other people did. She smiled to herself again. When John finally figured it out, he was going to be furious, and there wasn't going to be a damn thing he could do about it. She found that thought immensely satisfying.

#Harringrove April Challenge #my writing #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #Steve Harrington's parents #this is mostly fluff?

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truglori · 3 years

Text

Homebody (Ch.3)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning : Language, Slight Smut

Davio’s was the choice of the night. It was known for being one of the top restaurants with a perfect view looking out towards the city.

Scoping out the restaurant Erik’s attention was drawn to the repeated sounds of utensils clinking against porcelain plates. Along with the many voices talking amongst each other, it was driving him to the state of annoyance. If it was up to him he would have rather chosen something more quiet and isolated so that he could be focused on his date.

Bringing his mind back to what was in front of him he checked out his view. Sitting there with her titties out and her signature ice piece that rested comfortably in her cleavage, she rocked an all black dress that clung to her body perfectly.

Shyly looking up from her dessert menu Alexis caught him staring her down. She gave him a smile before setting down the laminated paper. Flipping her 26 inches of Brazilian bundles over her shoulder that she decided to wear bone straight, she leaned in to give him a better view.

“You like what you see daddy?” She teased before sipping on her glass of Rosè.

Erik eyes scanned over her one last time. “I do. You look good as fuck right now.”

“Mm thank you daddy. I got this dress earlier today just for you.” She always tried her best to impress him.

He slowly nodded his head. “Oh yeah? You showing out for me..having ya ass all out like that too.”

Erik couldn’t lie to himself even if he tried. Alexis was bad as fuck. From her perky titties that always sat up to her fat ass that looked plumped in no matter what she was wearing. To the hood she was the definition of a bad bitch and she had the attitude to match it too.

Erik ran into her almost nine months ago. They both were in the club celebrating a mutuals birthday. He noticed her when he stepped in the building with Durk and the crew. She was already in the V.I.P section with a friend on each side of her.

Making eye contact with each other for the first time that night Erik knew he had to have her just for the time being. He introduced himself to her and brought her and her friends drinks for the remainder of their time there. She didn’t put up a front either. That’s what he liked about her, she showed just as much interest and was straight forward with him. Erik didn’t have to deal with the typical cat and mouse chase game most women did whenever a man pursued them.

What he thought would be simple one night stand turned into a fling. They ended up exchanging numbers while laying in her bed after going a few rounds. The way that she sucked and fucked him had him thinking twice about ghosting her. She was the first girl to make him nut from head. That’s how skilled she was with her throat and tongue. Alexis was truly a freak and there was nothing that was off limits to him. But the more time they spent with one another the she started to get entitled and Erik couldn’t stand that shit. She was always putting their names together out in the streets which almost ruined his reputation of being low-key. He told her that if she didn’t stop running her mouth he was going to stop fucking with her and that put her in her place.

The waiter interrupted him from his thoughts as he sat down their food they ordered fifteen minutes ago.

The smell of a fresh hot and steamy steak well done along the side of creamy garlic mash potatoes invaded his nose and caused his mouth to water.

“Maybe you could take me to your place and take it off me after.” She lifted her leg up and massaged his dick through his pants with the flat part of her heel.

Erik smirked. He knew what she was trying to do but it didn’t work.

“When was the last time we went to my crib?”

“Never but-“

“So then why would I bring you there if I never did before?” He cut her sentence short.

Erik was very cautious about who he trust to know where he lived. Every single one of their sneaky links was hosted at her apartment. It may seem shallow that he couldn’t even allow the girl who he could bend over whenever he wanted to know where he laid his head but he just couldn’t trust everyone.

“Erik when is your paranoid ass gonna realize I’m not out to get you or set you up.” She rolled her eyes.

“I never said you were so why you insinuating some shit like that? You thinking about it?” He questioned.

‘This the shit I’m talking about.’

He shook his head setting down his fork to take a break from his food and picked up his glass of Hennessy.

“No. I’m just wondering why you don’t have a problem fucking me but yet I can’t even come to your place...that’s low as fuck.” She cocked her head sideways before going back to her shrimp and scallop.

“What’s wrong with me keeping my privacy? And why we gotta talk about this now, we should be enjoying ourselves.”

Erik cut the conversation no longer entertaining it. He never was the one to explain himself to someone who didn’t pay one bill where he lived and he wasn’t going to start today.

Alexis no longer wanting to vex the situation switched up the mood.

“You’re right baby but ooh guess who I seen today?”

Jogging his memory from the car ride with Amiyah earlier he already had a hint but let her speak anyways.

“Who?”

“Durkio’s sister. She works at the boutique where I got this dress from. She’s pretty..just a lil too chubby for me.” She giggled throwing her shade while bitting into some scallop.

When those words left her lips it turned Erik all the way off. What was the reason of a woman trying to denigrate another grown woman.

“You tell her that to her face?”

Alexis smacked her lips. “Why would I say that to her?”

“I don’t know, what you got against her?”

She laughed at his question. “Nothing I just stated my opinion that’s all.”

He nodded his head taking a mental note.

Some time had passed as the two ate in a comfortable silence chatting here and there. When he was finished he picked up his cloth napkin wiping his mouth. He was ready to get up out of there. Erik looked to see Alexis going through her purse. She took out her lipstick and reapplied it and that gave Erik the hint that she was also finished with her meal.

“You ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah I need you to give me some dick when we go back to my place” She spoke bluntly and out in the open not caring who could have heard her.

Grabbing his wallet he pulled out two crisps one hundred dollar bills paying for their dinner. He then got up slipping on his jacket as he watched Alexis stand up and put on her Burberry vintage trench coat.

He followed closely behind her to the exit of the restaurant before he went in front of her and held the door open. They walked to the valet and Erik gave his ticket to young man at the booth and watched him run in the direction of his car.

The wind blew softly and Alexis found herself standing directly in front of him as she slipped her hands inside his open jacket and wrapped them around his waist colliding their bodies together. The feeling of his hard abs against her breast made her nipples harden. She looked up at him watching his head stay in the same direction where the valet boy ran to get his car. Lifting one of her hands to his beard she tugged it softly grabbing his attention.

Erik shifted his eyes down in hers and recognized the look in them.

Already knowing what wine always did to her body whenever she had it let him know that she was ready to try to suck his dick while doing a handstand if she could.

She bit her lip never breaking contact. “I want you so bad right now.”

“You think you can handle me tonight? You be runnin every time when you off that Rosè. That pussy be hurting huh?” His hand grabbed her neck softly and his thumb caressing where her trachea was.

“I don’t be running it just be taking you so long to fuckin nut.” She smiled and opened her mouth sticking out her tongue.

Erik looked down at the display before bring his thumb up to it and watched as it disappeared in her mouth. Her jaws sunk in as she sucked it softly and lightly bobbed her head up and down. His balls tightened at the warm sensation on his finger bringing his memory back to the times she would do the same thing on his dick. He gave a low groan before he was interrupted with someone clearing their throat.

“Excuse me sir...your car is here.” It was the valet.

Erik grabbed his keys and walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for Alexis. She got in but not before lightly gripping his balls. Closing the door behind her he made his way to his side starting up the car and looked out his rear view before driving off.

It wasn’t too long when he glanced over and saw Alexis hiking up the bottom of her dress to her waist. She had no panties on and her pussy looked like it was freshly wax. Smiling at his face she leaned her seat back and spread her thighs opened. Running her nails over the inner flesh she felt herself getting warmer from the touch.

Erik was doing his best to multitask by watching the road while getting a look at her phat pussy lips every now and then.

“If you gon put it out like that you might as well play with it.” He told her biting his lip.

Following his demand she spread her lower lips with one hand as she let the fingers of her other dip into her wet opening just before bringing them to her clit rubbing it in circles. She moaned at the feeling applying more pressure. Her pussy became more wet from having him watch her. It made her excited and proud that she was able to keep his eyes distracted while taking the risk. No longer being able to hold back she stopped her stimulation and sat up with her knees on the seat. Bending down across the arm rest she put an arch deep enough in her back so that he would be able to see the butterfly tattoo on her ass cheeks.

“I wanna play with something else too.” Unbuckling his Loui Vuitton belt and zipping down his pants she took out his dick. It was so fucking heavy. The length and girth of his nine inches is what drove her to the brink of obsession. His dick took her soul every time he would fuck her and she gladly let him have it.

Wasting no time she kissed the sensitive head showing her appreciation then stuck her tongue out and ran it up and down his shaft wetting his dick up. Returning to the head of his penis she smacked the heavy tip on her lips as she pushed out some spit to make it glossy. Opening her mouth she took him in with sunken cheeks and immediately started to suck mocking her movements from ealier when they were outside.

Erik gripped her hair and moaned in his throat. She was a fucking head monster. It didn’t take him long to get hard because she knew what she was doing. Pulling her hair into a ponytail with the free hand he wasn’t driving with he switched his eyes between the road and her spitting on his dick then deep throating it.

He couldn’t hold back his smile. “You fucking nasty you know that?”

Quickly moving his hand off the steering wheel he lifted up his shirt to keep it from getting soaked and placed it back taking control again.

Seeing this, Alexis brought one hand up to his abs caressing them and then moved her way up to his chest running her fingers over his left nipple. Relaxing her throat and silently humming she was able to go deeper taking at least six inches of him without gagging.

“Fuck..” Erik mumbled under his breath.

Lifting up and wiping her mouth she smiled. “I heard that daddy.”

“Get back on that dick.” He guided her by the back of her neck feeling himself about to cum at any moment.

Giggling she played around his head flicking the underside of it. Using her right hand she massaged his balls as she took him back into her warm wet mouth and sucked his tip repeatedly producing excessive spit so that she was able to stroke him at the same time. Up and down she twisted her hand around his girth and would make a tight grip whenever she would reach the top.

This was on of the reason Erik couldn’t find himself to stop fucking with her. He could never turned down some good head and she definitely knew how to give it.

“Suck that nut out then.” He hyped her up and seen that it was working when he saw her twerking her ass cheeks.

With her staying around his sensitive head for a while he felt his stomach tightened up and his ass clenching together as his hips thrust up. He didn’t want to bust just yet but she was sucking him dry.

“Mm fuckk.” He dick spurted out his semen into her mouth and he relaxed back into his seat.

She made sure he was milked properly before she cleaned him up neatly and put his dick back in his pants and going back to the passenger side.

Reaching over she ran the tip of her nails on his neck.

“You needed that daddy...that load was big as fuck.”

“I did and you gon suck another one out of me when we make it to your crib.”

She smiled proud of her work.

“Anything for you daddy.”

___________________________________________________________________

It’s been two days since Amiyah last saw Erik. Two whole days had went by and this man still haven’t called her.

She couldn’t get him out of her mind.

Closing her eyes she kept thinking about the way he touched her. How his hands gripped her waist and rested there comfortably. His hands were tough but yet soft and gentle with her plush body.

‘What is he doing to me?’

Is the question she asked herself as she laid with her back on her bed with one leg folded on top of the other rocking it side to side while being on her phone. She had just finished cleaning her room and decided to finish setting the mood with a sweet smelling caramel drizzle three wick candle from Bath and Bodyworks that she brought herself.

It was her day off so she had nothing to do but sit in the house. Durkio was gone and Kelley was at work and aside from those two she had no one else that she could hang with. Being interrupted from scrolling on Instagram she was getting an incoming call from and local unknown number.

617-348-7677...

Amiyah sat up. The palms of her hands became sweaty as she answered with a soft voice.

“Hello..”

“Hi this is Jesse Mcwell and I am calling from our student loans forgiveness program to let you know that your application has been accepted.” The voice sounded like it was coming from a southern white women.

Amiyah inwardly groan at the customer service worker. She laughed at herself for getting nervous and excited over nothing.

“I’m sorry Jesse but you have the wrong number...I’m not in school.”

“Oh I’m sorry well thank you. Have a great day!”

“You too!”

She clicked the red button ending the call.

She smacked her lips.

“You’ll know it’s me.” She mocked Erik in his voice becoming annoyed.

That wasn’t the first time she picked up a call from a random number within that last two days that wasn’t Erik. All of them being from either an automated voice message claiming she won a free trip or last but not least the student loan office.

She picked up every single last one of them in hopes of hearing his voice.

Climbing off her bed her belly growled.

“I need some food.” She spoke to herself out loud which was a habit of hers.

Walking into the kitchen she rummage through the cabinets and refrigerator but found nothing to her liking. It was either junk food or leftover takeout from Durk. Growing easily frustrated with her hunger she blew out air and closed the pantry door.

A minute later had passed when she remembered that there was a small Jamaican spot that she liked literally right down the street. It was nothing but a three minute walk and she could make it there and back in lest then ten. Grabbing her coat and house keys she put on her Timbs and then exited her home locking the door behind her.

Going to the elevator she clicked the down button and waited for it to come up to the fourth floor so that she can get on.

The doors opened and out came her neighbor Melanie. She was some Latina that she only knew of because of the one time she walked in the apartment and found her brother bending her over in the living room. The girl was the reason Durk didn’t pick her up from work that day which lead her to having to take the bus home.

“Oh hey girl! How are you?” She tried her best making small talk with her.

Amiyah mentally rolled her eyes but gave a small smile.

“I’m good thanks!” She returned her fake energy as she stepped in the elevator and hit the lobby button.

“Tell your brother I asked about him. Let him know-“

The doors shut before she could finish her sentence. Amiyah laughed and shook her head.

“That girl know I don’t like her.”

It took nothing but a few seconds when the elevator finally came to a hault and opened the doors on the lobby floor.

Amiyah walked outside zipping up her coat and began heading in the direction of the restaurant. It took exactly how long she thought it would, less than five minutes. But being a house length away from her destination she noticed an all black BMW and sitting on top of it was a black guy as he spoke with two Dominican looking men.

Keeping her head down like how her brother taught her she was hoping to go unnoticed and not wanting to draw any attention towards her. The closer she got she couldn’t help taking a glance and picking up their conversation.

“Listen I’m not trying to make no beef.. we gotta lay low since our business is getting out there. Niggas is finding out shit and I don’t know how.” The black guy spoke with his hands folded together in front of him like he was the man in charge.

“We got you boss. We’ll make sure whatever we know gets back to you.” The taller one of the two other men spoke up confirming her thoughts.

“Yeah we gon start going low.” The shorter one finally spoke.

That was the last of the conversation she heard before she went inside the restaurant. Walking up to the cooler she slid the door open and grabbed a Calypso ocean blue lemonade. She only had to wait behind two people before she was able to put in her order.

The sudden feeling of the breeze from outside let her know that someone was coming in but she had no time to look back as the line moved and it her was her turn.

“Hi can I get a medium oxtail with rice and peas but no cabbage. Also can you add extra gravy please.” She gave the middle age lady a smile and sat her drink on the counter to unzip her Coach wallet taking out a twenty.

“Yo she good...she with me and hook it up for her.”

Turning her head to put a face to the voice that spoke for her she saw it was the guy who was sitting on his car from outside. He standing there with his hands in his pocket.Taking him in he was dressed down in a Givenchy track suit with the Moncler x Givenchy puffer jacket to match. His outfit screamed money but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before with her brother.

“Um thank you but I could’ve paid for it. It’s not that much.” She spoke softly.

He gave her a smile looking her up and down taking in her shape right in front of her.

“You good. These my people who look out for me and whoever I know.” He shrugged his shoulders letting her know that it’s nothing.

Shyly darting her eyes to the counter to grab her drink she stood to the side before turning back to the stranger.

“Well thank you but you don’t even know me.” Not trying to be rude to him but she was only stating facts.

“So then let me change that. I’m Cane.” His hand went to his chest as he introduced himself then reached out to shake her hand.

“Amiyah.” She placed her small hand in his that was huge compared to hers. She only hope that he wouldn’t notice her hand lightly sweating up which happened whenever she got nervous. It was a trait she hated about herself.

“That’s beautiful name. It kind of sound like my daughters.” Yet to have let go of her hand he stroked the back of it with his thumb stepping closer to her.

“What’s your daughters name?” Amiyah was finding herself lured into his charm as she stared deeper into his eyes.

“Janiyah.” He smirked at her before letting go.

“That’s pretty. What was your name again?"

“Cane.”

His eyes danced over her body again. She was a pretty thick girl to him. He knew as soon as she walked pass him he was hypnotized by her big ass and pretty natural round face. In his opinion she was fine as fuck but he could see the way she acted told him she probably thought differently.

She seemed insecure from how she spoke timidly and barely being able to keep eye contact. He noticed this but still went for her. If she was anything like how he thought he had her figured out to be then he knew that she could be someone who he could easily control and who he can get some pussy from time to time.

“Excuse me, your order is ready young lady.” The middle age woman broke the two from their staring contest.

Walking up to the counter she took her food along with a fork and some napkins and headed for the door. She felt him following behind so she held the door for him without bothering to turn around.

Cane laughed that she knew he was right behind her. He couldn’t help but to be hooked with the ass that she was dragging. He definitely was going to make it a priority to break her ass in.

Amiyah returning to the direction where she came from turned around to thank him one last time.

“Thank you for taking care of this. I appreciate that.”

“Well you can thank me properly by letting me take you out to dinner. Introduced you to some real Caribbean cuisine and not some street corner shack...no offense though.” He smirked.

She giggled at him down playing her choice of restaurant. “I thought you said these were your people. Why you shading them like that?”

“They are my people but that don’t mean I gotta settle ma...and neither should you.” He stepped closer occupying her space.

“Okay.” Not knowing any better and folding under his gaze she accepted his offer.

He took out his IPhone 12 and punched in the numbers that she gave him. He sent a text with just his name alone to make sure she had it.

“You need anything else. Maybe a ride? I noticed you walking” He stated genuinely.

“No I live two minutes away.” She replied letting him know she was good and waving goodbye.

“Aight I’ma hit you up later. Nice to meet you Amiyah.” He gave her a smile as he sat back on the hood of his car and watched her walk away.

‘Damn he was so fine.’

Two fine ass men in the same week asked for her number. She always made up scenarios in her head about how it would be the first time she would give a guy her number and never would have thought it would be with her brothers fine ass best friend or with a stranger who looked like money.She always thought she would get less and have to settle below her standards, but after today this was definitely a confidence booster.

Locking the door behind her she walked to the coffee table and sat her food down after she turned the tv on. Getting undressed back into her lounge wear she plopped on the couch and opened her plate to eat.

“Damn they hooked me up.” Looking at her plate she saw that it was plenty of oxtails sprawled out and extra gravy just the way she liked it.They never gave her that much oxtails that had that much meat on them before.

Cane immediately came to her head as she took in a spoonful of rice. She wondered if he was someone important to the restaurant for them take demands from him and made sure she left with a generous amount of food.

Her phone rung. Not paying attention to anything else besides the tv she answered it nonchalantly while chewing on her food expecting it to be one of those automated machines again.

“I wonder what I won this time?” She spoke to herself sucking the sauce of her fork and placing it down.

“Shit whatever you want?” Erik chuckled.

She snatched the phone away from her ear reading the number.

617-348-8357

She saved the number.

“Uh..I’m sorry Erik. I thought you were these voice messages that keep calling me.” Even though he couldn’t see her she still felt embarrassed.

“You good. Sorry I took so long to call you.”

Putting the tv on mute she sat up giving him her undivided attention. His voice sounded like he just woke up.

“That’s okay. Are you just now waking up Erik?” She giggled. Her nerves were starting to show.

“I didn’t make it home till early this morning. I been up all night.” He talked before clearing his voice.

“Oh okay.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and seen it was an incoming FaceTime call.

“Pick up.” His voice commanded. She was still able to hear him due to not hanging up the regular phone call yet.

She looked in the FaceTime camera and fixed her hair as well as wiping her mouth making sure there was no crumbs on her lips.

His face finally came into view as he was laying in what looked like a bed. Black satin pillows surround him. Scanning her eyes over him she noticed he had on a black durag to match.

She giggled as he kept his eyes on her not speaking yet.

“What?” Balling up her fist she used it to cover her smile.

“I can’t look at you?” He licked his lips.

He looked even finer when he was just waking up.

There was no way that she able to handle this man. From his thick lips to his voice, he was ruining her and he hadn’t even done a thing to her yet. She was starting to see a side of Erik that she didn’t know about.

“Oh my god. Why do boys say that?” She questioned acting fake annoyed.

“Well first off I’m a man so don’t make that mistake slipping up calling me a boy again. Aight?” He spoke lowly keeping his eyes on her.

Biting her lip, she tested him. “Erik I can call you whatever I want.”

His chuckle broke the silence.” You tryna make me pull up on you or sum shit? Stop fuckin playing with me.”

She put him on mute and sat the phone down hiding the camera.

‘Sis we is not wetting up these panties today.’

Her thighs clenched together from his threat. She couldn’t take how he could get her sticky down there so quickly. It felt different compared to how it felt when she she would play with herself. That would take her some time before she got aroused but with Erik every look he gave her and every word he spoke to her had her pussy spilling.

“So you gon put me on pause while you play with that pussy?”

She picked up the phone unmuting it.

“Shut up Erik!” She replied pretending to be unfazed.

“I like the way my name come off them soft ass lips.” Erik laughed and teased her watching her come undone in front of him.

“Could you stop?” She turned the phone away only showing part of her face to hide her smile for a second before turning it back.

“What? Say my name again?” He licked his bottom lip while watching hers.

‘Oh my goddd...what is he doing?!’

“I just said it.”

Playfully rolling her eyes she played tough with him but he saw through it.

“Say that shit again while you looking me in the eye.”

He demanded her putting an arm behind his head while waiting for her to respond.

“Erik..” What she meant to come out in a vex tone exited out as a light moan instead.

“Wassup baby.” His deep laughter came through the phone.

Erik watched as the look on her face became flustered. He only wanted to tease her. He liked how she looked when she became nervous. She tried her best to match his energy trying to be tough at first but he shut that down. It surprised him learning that she kind of had a smart ass mouth but clearly it didn’t take much to fix.

“You’re annoying.” At this point Amiyah wanted to just get under her covers and hide.

“I’m just fuckin with you. Told you I’m a grown ass man...don’t be playing with me like that.”

“I hear you.”

“What you do today?” He changed the conversation.

“Nothing it was my day off so I just cleaned my room and just got back from the Jamaican spot. You know the one down the street?”

He nodded his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“You spend ya money on that shit. I had way better Jamaican food.”

She smacked her lips. “ First of all don’t do my spot and second I didn’t have to pay for it today. Some guy spotted me.” She spoke quickly without thinking.

“What you mean some guy spot you? He paid for it?” Erik sat up in bed because her last sentence caught his attention.

“Yeah he was nice but that was it.” She tried her best to diffuse the kind act.

“Nah don’t trust that. Niggas out here always gon want something in return even for something as simple as buying yo ass a meal. Don’t accept nothing next time.” He enlightened her.

She shook her head deciding not to bring up the fact she gave him her phone number.

“Let’s chill tonight?” He broke her train of thought.

She smiled widely. “To do what and go where?” She rushed the questions.

“Whatever you want to. I just want to see you in person.” He eyes examined her beautiful face as she blushed.

“How about we go see a movie and go to a diner or something after.”

That was a certain type of date she always fantasized about and now she was able to take a chance at living it.

He smiled at her excitement. “Bet. I’m pick you up at seven and you don’t gotta dress up but wear something nice for me okay?”

“Okay.” Her soft voice made his dick jump.

“Aight talk to you later.” He smiled and ended the call.

‘Let me go rub this kitty real quick because his ass is too much.’

__________________________________________________________________

Part Four

Please excuse any mistakes!

Cane is at the top.

Tag-list

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @uzumaki-rebellion @blowmymbackout @curls-and-crosses @madamslayyy @goddessofthundathighs @eriksjournal @wakandamama @wawakanda-btch @wakandas-vibranium @wakandaforeverwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose

#black panther #erik smut #erik killmonger #erik x plus size reader #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #erik #erik x reader #black panther killmonger #plus size #plus size reader #michael b jordan

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stripper-patrick · 4 years

Text

I like the barbies💓, but I want the Bratz😈Steve Rogers

Warnings: language, fluff, smut, dom!Steve, choking, degradation, oral (m), angst, angry!Steve, fingering, fluff, crying, slight sub!Steve

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl

Relationship: Steve Rogers x black plus sized reader

Steve called a mandatory meeting but I’m not sure for what and I’m interested to see what he’s gonna say.

“Y/N” Scott calls and I turn around meeting him.

“Hey Scott”

“You look beautiful today” I can tell he likes me but usually I don’t pay attention because I’m so busy with work. See I work as a nurse but strictly for the avengers team. I interned for Stark and he hired me after a month seeing how good I work under pressure. Then that’s when I met Steve. They brought him to me when he was fresh out of the ice to which I took care of him as well as catching him up on the 66 years of history he had missed. He took a liking towards me and soon we started our best friendship which turned into a sexual relationship. I’d enjoy more but I don’t wanna ruin what we have so l handle this for now.

Me and Scott walk and talk together to the conference room where he opens the door for me “oh my god I’m so tired of wearing scrubs really I’d prefer to be in a big t-shirt and nothing else” I laugh. I notice I’ve caught Steve’s attention by that sentence. His blue eyes study my features of a short t-shirt dress and my silk-pressed ashy brown hair flowing gloriously on my shoulders with each step I take.

“Well I’m sure a lot of male patients would be very aroused by how good you’d look in either attire I know I would” I blush laughing and I catch a Steve’s eyes. The once ice blue orbs now turned into electric with what looks like lust and anger. Steve always was possessive but seeing as we aren’t together you’d think he’d let little things like this slide. But we’re both wrong.

Everyone piles in at once and we all sit down waiting for what Steve has to say. “For starters I’d like to thank everyone for coming to the meeting and as we know there’s a special event tonight the ultimate Christmas party Tony famously hosts every year but we don’t want it to be like the last time where we we’re attacked by robots which is something I never thought I’d said in my 99 years of life” he chuckles “let’s remember to have fun but keep the compound secure and safe as well”

“That was all you called us for?” Scott asks. He had a tendency to get under Steve’s skin often bringing up his past and on one occasion he even mentioned our extraordinary 74 year ago gap and Steve nearly put him in a full Nelson.

“It is is there a problem?” I can see Steve is boiling but I don’t know why

“No problem at all captain” he chuckles

“Good everyone’s dismissed” he calls “except for Y/N” my heart starts beating faster and I watch everyone leave. I avoid eye contact with Steve but the second I catch him (gif), I feel my wetness start to collect between my thighs. The door is shut and I stand up walking towards him. I do a half sit on the table as he strides towards me placing his hands on either sides of my hips coming about eye level to me. The smell of his mint toothpaste and Armani cologne is breathtaking.

“I don’t like how he talks to you or even looks at you”

“Who Scott? We’re just friends”

“He wants you Y/N and I’m sure he has a sense that something is going on between us so if he could he’d taste you right in front of me” Steve parts my legs stepping between them

“Nonsense Steve it’s not even like that. You’re just being over-protective and jealous. For what? I don’t know”

“Because you’re mine” his hand slides between my thighs as his calloused finger rubs my wet clit before sliding between my folds. My upper body slouches down as I push my hands behind me on the table to keep my balance. My eyes shut and I bite my lip holding back a moan.

“How can that be the case yet we’re not together?” I ask

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t mine” he says sliding a finger in. My body opens up to him. I’m feeling so many different emotions. Mad, sexually frustrated, horny, appalled. I don’t know what to do. He continues pumping slowly to torture me. My body shakes and he holds up my chin forcing me to look into his eyes. Steve curls his fingers making my body jolt. He moves his hand in a quick all-of-a-sudden pace slamming on my g-spot. My body rocks and my moans get louder. Steve covers my mouth “be a good girl for me and cum on my hand princess” my legs shake and next thing I know I’m convulsing against him trying to press my thighs together. My back arches as he pumps me dry. Once I come to my sense I watch Steve lick his fingers with a smirk.

“If you want me to officially” I stand up slowly watching him take a step back “you know what to do” I walk out going straight to my room. I take a deep breath as my wobbly legs force me to sit on the nearby chair. I’ve gotta start getting ready for this party. I bring myself together walking to the shower turning it on hot.

.....

I’m all dressed and ready for the party and I hear a bunch of people downstairs and the slow jazz music awaiting. I take one last look on the mirror at my outfit which is white mid rise bell bottoms, a double breasted blazer and a lace white bra that exposes the breast tattoo Steve likes so much. I grab my bedazzled clear heels sliding them on before heading downstairs. I stand at the top of the steps just grabbing some alone time before I merge with the crowd. A body slides next to me and I think it’s Steve until I meet eyes with someone else. Scott.

“Oh my god Y/N you look incredible” I smile thanking him keeping my eyes on the crowd “Jesus if I were Steve I wouldn’t let you walk out like that” I chuckle

“Scott I do what I want relationship or not”

“Speaking of what’s going between you and the crypt keeper” he takes a sip of his drink and I feel eyes burning into me. I look down seeing Steve staring right back at me. Sharon is staring at him like she hasn’t eaten in days and I feel my blood boil. He excuses himself and I watch him walk towards the steps.

“Nothing we’re just friends and coworkers”

“Hmm” he hums in disapproval. Steve meets us at the top with a fake smile on his face.

“Excuse me Scott I’d like to borrow Y/N for a minute” he grabs my arm whisking me away without even allowing Scott to comply.

Steve takes me to a dimly lit hallway and I yank my arm away “have you lost your damn mind” by this point I’m pissed. I get that Steve has attachment issues but that doesn’t mean he can control who I talk to let alone get mad that another guy is giving me attention when all he does is work and fuck me.

“Maybe. What the hell are you doing after I told you Scott is trying to get what’s mine”

“Steven how the fuck can I be yours and we’re not dating. And you know why we aren’t dating because you’re still strung up on Sharon who just so happened to be undressing you mentally”

“She was not” he scoffs. I squint my eyes in anger “It’s obvious Scott only wants to fuck you”

“And what the fuck do you actually get to do. Fuck me that’s it. You don’t know how bad I actually wanna be with you but the only thing we can do is fuck so don’t say shit about anyone else’s place when you’re actually participating in the act just using the same mindset” I storm away from him and walk downstairs mixing myself in the crowd.

“Y/N you look great” Pepper says “woah what’s wrong”

“Nothing I’m fine” I say. She knows me better than anyone else and she grabs my hand. She excuses herself from Tony and we head to the bathroom.

“Talk to me” a tear slips and I wipe it careful not to mess up my makeup. I explain to her what happened and she shakes her head

“Men are so stupid” she hugs me making me laugh. She helps me fix my makeup and it doesn’t look too bad. Pepper walks out with me our locked together and we go straight to the bar “4 vodka shots please”

The bartender grabs the Smirnoff bottle pouring the liquor into the small glasses setting them in front of us. She hands me 2 and I grab one glass tipping my head back letting the liquid glide down my throat leaving a fiery trail. My face scrunches up and the DJ spins the record stopping the smooth jazz.

I watch as Tony gets on the mic “I feel like we need to amp this party up some more” the crowd agrees as the DJ turns the music up putting on Meg Thee Stallion’s song Freak Nasty.

I take my second shot grabbing a lime to chase the liquor and replace the fiery taste in my mouth. My chest burns as the liquid courage smoothes down singeing my sternum.

I feel myself migrate to the dance floor rocking to the beat of the music. I bend over shaking my ass and I feel a body slide behind me. I’m not sure who it is but the guys hands slide around my waist keeping me close. “Damn baby can I take you home” before I’m able to pull whoever this is off of me Steve grabs him.

“Get your fucking hands off my girl” I watch Steve pull the guy away and he grabs my arm pulling me upstairs to his bedroom. I can tell he’s livid.

“Y/N what the fuck”

“I didn’t even know it wasn’t you” I say nonchalantly standing up “and again I don’t see why you’re mad we aren’t even-“ he cuts me off with a kiss and a hand pressed to my throat. Steve is quick to lay me on the bed still holding me in his powerful kiss. Steve pulls off my jacket moving his lips to my neck and breasts. I bite my lip holding back a moan. His hands slip into my pants undoing them and my legs fall open for him. I feel his erection against my thigh as he rubs my wet swollen clit begging for attention.

“Don’t stop” instead Steve does the opposite and stands up. I pull off my pants and soaked black thong. Steve undresses his bottom half and grabs my legs pulling me to the end of the bed. He taps his dick on my clit making me writhed before he finally pushes himself in me.

I grab his arm as he continues his assault breathing heavily near my ear. His moans are guttural and low as he nips at my ear. “Just like that please Steve” he pushed my thighs back on the bed stroking me down harder. My jaw drops and I lift my arms above my head gripping the sheets behind me.

“You look so fucking good doll” I whimper holding him close to me. The thought of Sharon taking him away from me overwhelms me and a tear slips. Or it could be from just how good he’s pounding out my pussy.

“Look at you. A beautiful fucking mess. My beautiful fucking slut” he bites my collarbone quick to put my legs on his shoulders.

“Steve please”

“What do you want? Use your words” I can’t even think. I’m not sure what I want so I let my heart do the talking

“Don’t leave me”

“I won’t baby girl. Fuck you look so pretty taking my dick like that”

“Steve” I moan. His strokes increase as he wraps his hand tighter around my throat

“Nobody is allowed between my pretty little sluts thighs but me” my release is on the brink as he keeps talking to me like this “and if they try... I’ll kill them”

“I’m cumming” my legs shake uncontrollably as my hips buck upward.

“Cum for me please” he whimpers. I muster up the strength and flip us over riding him. I grind hard on Steve as he coats my walls in his juices whimpering my name.

I keep bucking my hips watching him squirm. I slow down and collapse on his chest feeling his dick pulse inside of me.

“You’re mine” he rasps

“I’m yours” I smile

“We’re going on a date tomorrow to solidify it but for right now will you be my girlfriend?” He smiles

“Of course” I laugh as he kisses my head.

#smut #fluff #chris evans smut #chris evans #dom!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x black reader #poc #chris evans x woc reader #captain america imagine #captain america smut #captain america #steve rogers smut

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italiansteebie · 3 years

Text

Experiment!Steve AU

Okayyyy so. me and @smashmouth-hargrove were talking earlier about experiment Steve. and I got a little inspired so I wrote this thing which could turn into a fic if people enjoy this ideaaaaa sooooo here it is! 💕✨

========================

Seven took a deep breath, and let it out roughly when his feet hit the soft forest ground. He looked back through the fence at the building he had been held in, his home, and left all of it behind. Tears streaming down his face, he began to walk through the woods in hopes to find… Well, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, perhaps help? His siblings were still there, trapped, maybe dead, just waiting. While on his trek, he thought about a lot of things, he thought about Papa, and Nine, and he thought about himself. What he would do with his new life.

Having been lost in thought, he didn’t realize he’d happened upon a road and there was a car quickly approaching. His heart raced and he held out his hand, the car stopped, and he wiped his nose. “Carl! Carl, it’s just a boy!” a woman said, stepping out of the car and coming towards him. “I see that Jean. Hey boy! What’s your name son?” The man’s voice cut through the night’s air like a knife, and Seven flinched at the sound of it. The woman made a strange face in response and motioned for Seven to come closer. Obeying, he gradually reached the car, eventually getting in with the man and the woman. As the man shut the door, he flinched and startled again when the car started moving once again.

Seven had seen cars, like when Papa asked him to find someone and the person was in their car, but he’d never ridden in one before. At home, to ride in a car was a very special privilege, or it meant you were dead or going to be. He shuddered at that thought, thinking back to what happened with Five and Six. He cleared his throat, “Seven. Dead?” he wanted to prepare for his demise, and think properly about what that meant. The man started speaking again, and this time Seven held back his involuntary reflex, “Steven, you said your name was? You’re not dead, son. No one here is dead.” Seven nodded in response, not being dead is a good thing, at least he thought so. They drove in silence for a long time, and once they finally stopped the woman spoke, “Steven, dear. This is the police station, do you need help? Do you want to call your parents?” He shook his head. “No. Papa is a bad man.”

The woman looked at the man, “I’ll be back dear. You stay with him,” he said while exiting the car. After some time, the man came back with a much larger man following him. Seven could hear them talking outside of the car, “I-I’m not sure Chief. We found him over on a back road, going towards the lab. I got no clue.” The larger man scratched at his face and sighed, he said something Seven couldn’t make out and motioned at the woman. The small silver pole, the lock Seven had figured out, had been undone. The large man reached towards the door to open it, and with that, the car doors locked themselves again. This was a confusing action for the adults, and the woman tried to unlock the doors again, to which Seven said, “No.” and wiped his nose. The woman sighed, and the man looked frustrated, “Look, kid. See that lever, down by the handle? Twist that. Just a little bit.” The large man instructed, and so that’s what Seven did, he knows better than to not follow directions. He grabbed the lever and pushed on it, but it didn’t budge, he looked at the large man in confusion. “Try the other way, kid.” The man said, with a weird puff of air following it. Seven did as he was told, and the pane of glass separating them began to move downward, and Seven could feel the breeze float in from outside the car.

The large man bent down and spoke to Seven through the gap he had just created, “Listen, kid. You got any parents?” He shook his head, “Papa is a bad man.” The large man sighed, “Alright. Well, I gotta take you off of the people’s hands alright? You gotta come with me.” Seven pondered this and ultimately decided it would be better to go with the large man. The woman unlocked the door once again and the large man opened Seven’s door. Once getting out, he whispered a tinny goodbye, as the man and woman drove off into the dark. He turned his attention towards the large man and followed him into the building.

There were more people in here, Seven thought it was strange that none of them were wearing white coats. He thought all adults had white coats. He followed the large man through a door into a smaller room, “Sit.” The large man said, and so he did. Right on the ground, this action caused the large man to smile, and Seven was glad. Smiles are almost always a good thing unless it’s a mean smile, that means something very bad. “My name is Chief Jim Hopper. You can call me Hopper, or Chief. What’s your name?” Seven looked at the man, who had his arm stretched out like he was reaching for him. He scooted away further back. “Hopper. Seven.” He said and turned over his wrist to show the 007 he had permanently written into his skin. Hopper reached to grab Seven’s wrist and was instantly against the ground, “What in the-” His chair seemed like it had been pulled out from under him, and Seven wiped his nose again. The Chief looked at him, “Did you do that?” He asked, Seven considered his tone, he didn’t seem mad or upset so he nodded his head yes.

Hopper dragged a hand over his face, “Where are you from, kid?” Seven narrowed his eyes. “Not kid. Seven.” Hopper took a breath through his nose, “Where are you from, Seven?” He looked away, “Lab.”

#smashmouth-hargrove #experiment!steve #steve harrington #Steve Harrington whump #jim hopper #stranger things fic #Experiment!Steve AU

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thadelightfulone · 3 years

Text

Prologue

Story Summary: Erik Stevens has a wonderful life - traveling around the world, empowering black people, and living life on his terms. There is just one piece that is missing but how will she complete his destiny?

Demi Bishop sat at her desk, gently tapping her fingers on a file. Picking it up, she opened it for the umpteenth time. She glanced over the two sheets inside and then closed it again. She put the file down and pushed it to her left.

She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. It’s been years since she felt this unnerved about meeting a new patient, but this was something new for her. After spending her entire career behind prison walls, Demi was on her own. The freedom of picking her own patients drew her to private practice.

Her first client would be one of the biggest she had ever encountered. She worked with many notorious people during her career, but he is well-known for being a positive influence in the black community. This could be the boost she needs to move from prison psychiatry to mainstream therapy.

--- 3 Days Earlier ---

Demi’s hand felt along the nightstand for her vibrating cell phone. Someone was about to get cussed out waking her up and the sun wasn’t even shining through her curtains yet? She blinked at the bright screen and saw it was her best friend, Xavion calling.

“MiMi, I have a huge favor to ask.” The voice rushed out over the phone line.

“What’s in it for me, Xay?” Demi sighed.

“My undying devotion.” He sang.

“I have that already. Give me something else.” She yawned, glaring at the red numbers on her digital clock that read 4:30am.

“My first child?”

“I don’t want kids.” She mumbled out as she rolled back over and put the phone on the pillow next to her. “One more try and then I’m hanging up.” Demi pulled her comforter over her head.

“Demi, come on.”

Demi’s soft snores could be heard on the line.

“Please. I really need this favor, so I can look good at work.”

She lifted her head off the pillow, “What do I have to do?”

“I have a client for your practice.”

Demi threw the comforter off of her and sat up in bed. She put the phone on speaker and wiped the sleep from her eyes.

“So, my boss had this really interesting case where the guy was given mandatory therapy before returning to work.”

“I’m listening.”

“He doesn’t want to do it, but he has to, ya know. So, we told him that we would find a therapist for him to complete his sessions with and sign off on his return. It’s simple, meet with him the minimal number of times allowed by the program and then clear him.”

Demi looked down at her phone in confusion. This could not be her friend asking her to do this.

“Xay, you know that’s not how therapy works. Hell, that’s not even how I work.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s all or nothing. It’s my license on the line if he repeats or reoffends.”

“Trust me. You do not have to worry about that with him. He’s good people.”

“Good people don’t end up in mandatory therapy programs, Xay.”

“MiMi!” He groaned.

“Absolutely not. I understand that your bosses have people on payroll to do shit like this for them and that’s great. But I will not be one of them.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “and for you to even come to me with this bullshit this early in the morning. Thanks friend.”

“MiMi. I didn’t mean to - ”

“You want me to see this man as a client? Then you inform him about how I work. He can see it through to the end and at my recommendation or he can find someone else to buy off.”

“Demi, please -”

“No Xay. Talk to your client and if he is fine with my proposal, you can send me his file.” She hung up the phone.

---

Xavion sent her an electronic file that contained a picture of her new client, Erik Stevens. It contained the court case details and the anger management program paperwork she would sign upon completion. Demi had heard of him and didn’t understand how a man of his status ended up taking the entire blame for this situation.

Handling this case appropriately would provide the exposure she needed to help build her practice. All she had to do was get him to complete the program as outlined by the judge.

---

Erik Stevens looked up at the red brick building and then looked at the note on his phone. This was the place. Apparently, there was a couch with his name on it inside. He was supposed to walk in and speak candidly to some quack for 6 months. There was nothing wrong with him, but the courts didn’t see it that way. Nothing he couldn’t fix during this first visit though.

He entered the lobby and walked to the elevator bank. Erik locked his phone and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He stood back and waited for the approaching elevator car.

Erik looked at his watch as he exited onto the 5th floor. ‘Early is on time, on time is late and late is unacceptable.’ He smiled to himself, “Time to let Dr. Bishop know how things will go.”

The floor had an open layout with a desk in the center and multiple closed doors surrounding it. He appreciated the mix of modern and classic furniture that made up the office suite shared by all the doctors.

He walked over to the receptionist, who gawked at his entrance. She straightened up in her seat as he approached. “I’m here for Dr. Bishop. I have a 3 oclock appointment.”

“Uh, yes sir, Mr. Stevens.” She smiled up at him, “Please have a seat.”

He returned the smile. “So, you do know who I am?” He looked down at her over the countertop that covered her seated position.

Erik surveyed her. Her pressed hair and pearly white smile to her chaste blouse down to her skirt that showcased glistening chocolate brown legs in stiletto heels. He lifted his gaze back to her face and when he met her stare, she immediately looked away.

“Of course, I’ve attended a few of your seminars before. You are the reason I have this job.” She looked at her computer and then back up at him, “You are quite early, but I’ll let her know you are here.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He stood up and pushed back the panels of his jacket revealing a gold lining. Then he leaned onto the counter and followed her line of sight until she met his again, “By the way, what’s your name?” He held his hand out to her.

“Sylvanna.” She giggled and slowly placed her hand in his.

“Sylvanna, what a beautiful name.” He rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

She nodded at him and Erik immediately relaxed his hold on her hand. Sylvanna quickly corrected herself, “I’m sorry, Mr. Stevens,” She took a deep breath and exhaled, “No, I am not.”

“Good girl. Go out with me.”

“I’d love to.”

“Wonderful. I’ll need your number.” He tapped a notepad in front of her.

Sylvanna flipped to a fresh sheet, wrote it down and gave it to him. He slipped the piece of paper from her hand, folded the sheet and placed it in his pants pocket. He took her hand again and gave it a slight squeeze.

“You can let Dr. Bishop know I am here now.” He winked at Sylvanna, turned and walked away.

She shook her head, took another deep breath and reached for the intercom, “Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

---

For several minutes, Erik stood by the window observing the cityscape. This was his town and his home, Oakland. His work was for his people. He didn’t understand why he was here when he paid people to take care of things like this for him. Why have a law firm on retainer when they couldn’t even get him out of mandatory therapy?

Erik sighed, “Sometimes, you gotta do the messy work yourself.”

Sylvanna called his name. “Dr. Bishop will see you now, Mr. Stevens.”

He turned as he buttoned up his suit jacket to find her standing, “Thank you, Sylvanna.” He walked up to her, “So, where I am going?”

She pointed down the center hallway, “It’s the first door on your right.”

“Great. I will see you later tonight.” He winked at her.

He strode towards the office with a smile as he brushed down his jacket. Erik took a deep breath and knocked before he entered.

“Dr. Bishop?”

“Yes, Mr. Stevens. Please come in.”

Erik froze, one hand on the doorknob, at the feminine voice that greeted him. Dark brown eyes hidden behind slim black-rimmed glasses looked expectantly up at him. He closed the door behind him and stepped forward. Erik studied the woman sitting at the large wooden desk. This was gonna be easier than I thought.

She waved her hand to the chair in front of her desk. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Dr. Bishop. The pleasure is all mine.” He replied.

Erik walked over and sat down in the straight-backed chair.

“I have some housekeeping things to go over and then we can start.”

Erik watched her shuffle a few files and a legal pad in front of her. Right down to business. She impressed him.

He moved his chair forward and pulled a pen from his jacket. “Great, let me know where to sign.”

“Excuse me?” Dr. Bishop snapped at him.

Erik continued, “I am so glad you changed your mind. I need to get back out on the road and speak to all my people.”

He reached for one of the files on her desk. She pulled it out of his reach.

“I think you are mistaken, Mr. Stevens.” She gathered the files together and placed them on a file rack.

---

Does this man really assume that I am going to cheat the system for him? Who the fuck does he think he is?

Demi looked over at Erik as he relaxed into the chair. He unbuttoned his jacket and the lining flashed gold before the suit tails settled around him.

No, he didn’t.

He was wearing a gray pinstripe suit with gold cufflinks. She shook her head as he clasped his manicured hands together on his lap.

He really thinks highly of himself.

“Mr. Stevens, I am aware that you spoke with Mr. Davis about my terms.” When Erik nodded, she continued, “What makes you think I have changed my mind?”

“Well, you have the paperwork in front of you. And there is nothing that YOU can teach me about channeling anger and using it for better,” he moved his hands as he spoke, “I do this for a living.”

Demi smiled at Erik, “Ahhhh, no wonder you are dressed so... impressively.” She pointed at his suit, “This must be your ‘I talk in money’ suit. No wait, it’s your ‘Let’s talk business’ suit.”

---

Erik slowly bobbed his head at her. The more she spoke the more he wanted to hear everything she had to say. He was pleased to say the least. She definitely had a nice read on him.

“You must have thought that you could walk in here and negotiate the terms of your court-mandated therapy.”

“That’s correct.” He sat forward in his seat.

Demi tapped her chin, “So, that’s why you came in here peacocking? Beautiful coat, by the way.”

He watched as Demi stood up and walked around her desk. She stopped in front of it and him.

“Let me introduce myself then.” She leaned against the desk and crossed one of her legs in front of the other. “My name is Dr. Demi Bishop and I will be your counselor as you work through your anger management program.”

A sly smile crept across Erik’s face. “You sure about that?”

“Absolutely.” She reached beside her and grabbed one of the folders on the desk. “In fact, here is your first assignment.” She handed it to him, “Go ahead and read that before our next session.”

Demi walked around his seat and went to her office door. She opened it and then turned back towards Erik.

---

She held the door as Erik stood up.

He took the opportunity to get a better view of her. Her loose curls were in a bun, some tendrils framing her cherubic face. She wore a fitted brown blazer over a black sheath dress. Sensible black heels finished the look. Hmmm, what are you hiding Ms. Bishop?

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Stevens. I will see you Wednesday. Preferably at your appointed time.”

He brushed up against her as he passed by and heard her deep inhale once he crossed the door’s threshold.

Erik walked to the bank of elevators and hit the down button. While he waited, he looked inside the folder and found an article about healthy ways to deal with anger. This woman is something else. Erik closed the folder and twisted into a tube. He hid his hand in his pants pocket and balled up his fist.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. Erik looked back at Demi standing in her doorway. He waved to her, “Yes, you will see me again, Miss Bishop.”

A/N: Trying something new. Taglist is open.

#erik stevens #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black oc #black panther fanfiction #devoted #thadelightfulone

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uzumaki-rebellion · 4 years

Text

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First”: Volume 3, Chapter 1

Summary:

Erik N'Jadaka Stevens. The top student in his graduating class at the Naval Academy. The youngest graduate to do so.

Erik excels at M.I.T. studying bioacoustics and sonic warfare. Hounded by Tony Stark to become his protege in Malibu, Erik sets out to forge a path that will take him into the military and Special Ops to complete his ultimate goal: Revenge for his mother and father and the overthrow of the Wakandan Royal House. With the help of his roommate, Disa, he may have found a way to balance first love and his need for justice.

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only.

youtube

"My nose wide as the Red Sea (Red Sea) Lips full, fillers don't fill me (Fill me) Soon as my cousin killer's on trial (Woah) Family gon' pull 'em sitting courtside Godsend they say, we singing la-la-la Don't want no vultures on our si-i-ide Looking black as the messi-i-iah I got time…

When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow Superpower"

Kirby—"Superpower"

Chocolate City.

That's what they called this particular section of dorm housing on the fourth floor of the building known as New House that Erik N'Jadaka Stevens found himself standing in at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

M.I.T.

"No man, this dude is different. He's twenty, but he acts way older. Quiet. Not real friendly…I don't mean in a bad way…he's just not gregarious. Grad student, not a freshman… I didn't ask. He applied to be here and Jay said he'd be a good fit. Oakland…I don't know…"

They were feeling him out already.

The lone voice he heard was in another room talking on a phone. The person wasn't even aware that Erik had entered House One that Chocolate City shared with iHouse, another identity-based undergraduate group who used the first two floors while they used the other three top floors.

Erik had money to get his own apartment or his own house if he wanted. Working for Tony Stark as an intern and a Stark Fellow for a year prior to M.I.T earned him money to live like an adult. Hell, he gave up a luxury apartment and tasteful eclectic furniture to move cross country and hunker down among thirty-one young Black men from around the world—correction, thirty young Black men, and one young white Italian man—who came to study a wide range of STEM-related fields.

Erik stared at the Chocolate City Mission Statement on his phone:

"Chocolate City is a brotherhood of MIT students and alumni who identify with urban culture and share common backgrounds, interests, ethnicities, and/or experiences. By cultivating a tradition of social, intellectual, character, and leadership development, the Brothers of Chocolate City exemplify a high standard of excellence which is founded on continual growth. We seek to enrich the MIT and greater global communities by embodying the principles of our brotherhood."

Taking a deep breath, Erik took time to meditate on what his purpose was in being there in that commons room space at that moment. It was a promise to his Uncle Bakari, Aunt Shavonne, and his Grandpop that he would spend at least six months in the dorm to have a proper group living experience that he didn't have at the Naval Academy. One that was less rigid and military guided. And not a juvenile hall. He shook off the memories.

Six months.

He gave his word.

Erik rolled the suitcase he had with him against a wall and the movement alerted the unseen speaker to end their call. A lanky fade-wearing young man with glasses and very light skin walked in from another room.

"Hi, Erik?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, welcome! I'm Rasheed. Junior year. Engineering. One of two Co-Chairs here. You look different from the Zoom chat…hair is longer…"

They shook hands and Erik ran his fingers over the short 'fro he was cultivating. It was one of the perks of being away from The Naval Academy and Stark Industries. He could let his shit grow freely. He could wear regular clothes. He could stand down.

"Growing it out for a minute."

"Are you wearing gold slugs?"

"Yeah," Erik said becoming annoyed with comments about his appearance.

The moment he left Tony Stark's employ he had pure gold panther slugs made for his bottom teeth to match the ones his Baba used to wear.

"Is this all your stuff?"

"Nah, I have some more out in my car."

"What do you drive?"

"1970 Chevrolet Chevelle."

"What? A muscle car. What color?"

"Black."

"I'll go down and help you bring the rest of your stuff up. Everyone is still moving in and finding the campus. We're having a dorm meeting with the Chocolate City crew before the big New House meeting downstairs later tonight."

"Okay. Cool."

Exiting the elevator, they walked down the large hall on the first floor to the exit. Outside the afternoon air was crisp and Erik admired the brick of the building as they walked away from it to where he parked temporarily.

Rasheed whistled when he saw Erik's car.

"You sank some money into this bad boy."

"My grandfather had it for years. Fixed it up and passed it on to me. He still adds stuff to it if I ask him too."

"That's cool, bruh. Real cool."

Erik pulled out two more roller bags and a duffle, along with his computer bag from his trunk.

"That's it?"

"Yep," Erik said.

"You can stay parked here until tomorrow night. That's when you have to use your residency parking passes and move it to your assigned area."

"Bet."

Moving his things back up into his assigned floor, more young men had arrived in their commons and introductions were made. One husky guy with a crimson and white MIT sweatshirt sat on a couch with his laptop playing music. The music switched up and a voice Erik recognized filled the room.

ButtaFly.

A DJ that hosted a popular MIT radio show. A DJ he listened to for months while he worked for Tony Stark.

"You are listening to the Cosmic Café…up next I'm going to have some new music by Kirby, Seinabo Bey, and I'll also throw in some classic Mutabaruka dub poetry. I want to give a big welcome to the new students arriving for the start of a new school year, especially to the young men of Chocolate City. My homegirl Jennifer is the Graduate Resident Tutor there so hey girl…I hear some really brilliant new students are over there, so welcome… welcome to all the folks over at New House…"

Erik stood in front of red and white hoodie.

"Where is the campus radio station at? Do you know?"

"WMBR?" hoodie asked.

"It's in the basement of the Walker Memorial Building," Rasheed said.

"Is that far from here?"

"Not really if you don't mind walking."

Erik pulled up the campus map on his phone.

"What room do I have?" Erik asked.

He followed Rasheed down a hall to the far end. Two twin beds, two desks, a decent window…

No one else had belongings there yet.

Erik picked the side away from the window and dumped his stuff.

"Thanks for helping me," Erik said.

"No problem—"

"What time is the meeting?"

"In two hours—"

Erik left the room with Rasheed at his heels.

"The rest of the guys will be back, and your roommate—"

"Later. I gotta go peep something first. I'll be back on time."

Erik passed by more Black male undergrads entering Chocolate City.

"Hey, Erik!"

Darcy, the other Co-Chair called out to him as Erik headed toward the elevator. A bright white smile on a rich round mahogany face tried to get his attention as Erik swept past.

"I'll be back!" he called out again.

Erik checked his cell phone. ButtaFly's show lasted for another thirty minutes. He stuck in earbuds to listen to her as he walked outside once more. Zipping up the bright orange windbreaker he had on, he used his phone GPS to guide him to his muse. The voice that haunted him for so many months when he worked for Stark. The voice that soothed him when he was in bed alone. The voice that seduced him when he pleasured himself in that big queen-sized bed he used to own.

Things were different now.

He had a twin bed and a male roommate. He had to share cooking duties with young men when he once ate with billionaire playboys and a Black Princess of Monaco. Erik used to fly on a private jet with Tony Stark anywhere in the world and had access to tech that these students were just trying to learn about and would never get to see on a higher level in a lifetime.

So different.

No more smoking weed and jerking off naked to Buttafly's voice in private trying to imagine what she looked like as he came in his hand with deep guttural moans. Very shortly, he would come face to face with the woman of his dreams.

A woman who helped guide him back to his ultimate purpose in life and she didn't even know it.

Chapter 2 HERE.

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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 3 #Erik Stevens #Killmonger Fanfiction #njadaka #Erik Killmonger #Uzumaki Rebellion #Black Panther Fanfiction #Smut

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