#oh and now she likes it when i call her chicken wing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sam24 · 3 months

Text

Chicken Butt

Summary: It was supposed to be a good deed. Really, it was. Tony had woken himself and the team up at ass o'clock to get ready for your morning birthday surprise, barking out orders like a dad on the morning of a road trip. Everything was supposed to be perfect. But a 6 foot something blond super soldier laying in your bed was not part of the plan.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

Tony crept down the hall, motioning for the rest of them to follow his lead through the silent hallway.

His janky ass team clearly didn’t care as much as he did, grumbling loudly, their arms full of birthday kazoos and party horns that Tony had shoved into their hands earlier.

“I don’t think she’s gonna appreciate you waking her up by tooting horns in her face, Tony.” Natasha fixed the party hat that was sliding over her eyes. “Taking her out to breakfast would have been so much nicer.”

“Breakfast is temporary, carrot top. The memory of us working hard to surprise her and make her birthday morning special is permanent,” Tony whispered.

“I don’t know about that, Tony.” Sam piped in. “Those hash browns down the street are pretty damn memorable.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Bucky’s lips were pressed tight together, looking a little nervous and queasy, like he ate a couple moldy hot dogs before hopping on a roller coaster. But Tony didn’t have time to call out the cyborg, especially when you could wake up any minute now.

“When did you suddenly start caring about birthdays?” Clint looked suspicious. “For my birthday you gave me a half drunk coffee.”

“Don’t be selfish, Barton. I was tired that day.” Tony dramatically turned his head to peer down the hallway, making a weird sweeping motion with his hand.

He turned around to see everyone staring at him questioningly.

“It means all clear, you imbeciles. Has no one seen Die Hard?”

“Oh, I have!” Peter raised his hand and let go of his balloon, and Bucky snatched it before it could float off with a roll of his eyes. “But it’s kinda more like this, Mister Stark-”

Peter tried to demonstrate but Tony silenced him with a glare. “Guys, you’re ruining the whole thing. I’m trying to be nice and surprise our friend without you chihuahuas waking her up before we even get to the door.”

“Why are you trying so hard to be nice, Tony?” Natasha shook her head. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“C’mon, are you doubting me? I love being nice. It’s my favorite hobby.”

Natasha was unimpressed. “Pepper told you to be nicer, didn’t she?”

Tony grumbled, choosing not to reply.

Okay, so maybe Pepper did want him to be a little kinder, especially after he sent a few too many interns home crying.

”It’s not my fault they don’t understand my humor!” Tony had insisted.

Pepper had just given him a firm look and told him that he had to put more effort into expressing his appreciation for other people.

Tony was offended, but he knew his wife was right (as always). He didn’t exactly know the right way to express his love, growing up in a house with minimal affection.

He had tried multiple techniques: saying kind words, giving out compliments like candy, and even going as far as squeezing in random hugs, but none of them felt natural to him.

His love language was remembering the little things, Pepper had told him after she saw Tony give you a full-sized cardboard cutout of Channing Tatum after you had mentioned that the Jump Street movies were your absolute favorite.

However, some didn’t appreciate his little gifts as much as you did.

Helen Cho was not very thrilled to see thermal underwear for hands, no, not gloves, on her desk after whining that the medical wing was always cold.

Tony had decided to change his affection tactics to something everyone could enjoy. Everyone likes surprises. Right?

He liked to act like he didn’t care about anything other than AC/DC and whiskey, but he honestly did. He loved his team to pieces and would do anything for them.

Plus, it would be some practice for his incoming child. His future daughter would probably prefer hugs and playtime with her daddy rather than a chicken butt magnet (but considering it was Tony’s kid, the chicken butt might have a chance.)

So, that’s how Tony ended up here, searching his pocket for the keys to your room that he bribed borrowed from the floor’s housekeeper.

He made a mental note to fire the lady for dangerously handing out keys to anyone who asked.

“Wow, Tony. Look at you. Breaking into girls’ rooms,” Wanda snorted. “That’s a new low.”

“Quiet, before I burn you at the stake.”

“I still don’t think we should do this.” Bucky shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“You know, I would’ve expected Steve to say something, he’s being weirdly quiet. Something like, Anthony, respect her privacy-” Tony looked up from the lock. “Wait, where is he?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Uh I dunno.”

“You don’t know?” Tony raised his eyebrow. “I thought you two were telepathically connected or something.”

Bucky looked down, suddenly very interested in the carpet under his feet. “Um I don’t know but I think we should go-”

“Whatever, he’s probably running an ultramarathon right now for some senior citizen charity, doesn’t matter. We’ll save some cake for him. But make sure someone has a glucose monitor. I don't think Cap can handle too much sugar.”

Tony inserted the key, the lock settling with a satisfying click as he turned it. He slowly opened the door, bringing his kazoo closer to his mouth.

What he was not expecting was that the same Steve who he thought was probably helping an old woman cross the finish line right now was lying in your bed.

➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸➸

You thought you heard the creak of your door, but you mentally waved it off, classifying it as the creak of your fan.

You turned, not bothering to open your eyes, your hand feeling for your human pillow, who was unusually soft and an excellent cuddler for being built like a wall of muscle.

Your palm landed smack dab on Steve’s chest, and you buried yourself into his side with a smile creeping across both your faces.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” You felt Steve sleepily pressing his lips into your hair and all across your face.

Fuck, his morning voice was so hot.

You were glad you had him to yourself for a little while before you two had to act like colleagues. It was a mutual choice between you two to keep it from the team. Some of them could be just a tad bit dramatic, and you two wanted a quiet relationship before it went public.

Bucky already knew, because he knew Steve more than Steve knew himself, and you suspected that Natasha knew as well because she’s Natasha and knows everything.

Everyone else probably didn’t know, and you’d like to keep it that way for a little bit before Tony would inevitably scream "PDA! PDA!" everytime yours and Steve’s shoulders grazed.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he buried his head into yours.

You mumbled something along the lines of “thank you” as you pressed kisses into his hair.

“I love you so much.” Steve lined kisses on your bare shoulder.

You heard a gasp followed by extremely violent shushing.

Your eyes flew open and Steve turned around in a split second, looking for the intruder.

You both were met with the team standing wide-eyed in your room, Tony in the lead looking like he was either about to pass out or throw the cake in his arms to the ground.

Steve tried his best to cover you with his body from his nosy team, trying to keep the blanket from slipping down his waist at the same time.

All eyes turned to Bucky, who was wearing a glittery-pink polka-dotted party hat that, by looking at the dents in it, seemed like it was wrestled on by someone.

He blew his party horn with a pathetic puff of air, smiling nervously at Tony. “Surprise?”

Thor launched his arms into the air. “SURPRISE!”

The commotion started.

“C’mon Cap,” Sam whined in the corner. “I thought I was your friend! How could you not tell me?”

“Knew it.” Natasha grinned cheekily.

“You two are so cute!” Wanda gushed. “Right Vis?”

Vision nodded, sending Steve an awkward thumbs up.

Bruce coughed, trying to respect your privacy by looking down at his shoes.

“Always thought you had a little crush on him,” Clint smiled.

“This is so cool! Wait, if you have a kid can I babysit please? I love babies. Oh my god, is it going to be a super baby?” Peter was bouncing with excitement. “Crap, I’m sorry, Mr. Steve. I didn’t mean to call your baby an ‘it’. I swear, I don’t see your baby as an object, I’ll be a great sitter.”

“Um, yeah, sure, kid-” Steve started.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Tony finally jolted out of his paralysis state. “How the hell did I not see this?”

“Tony-”

“Are you telling me that the whole time I was trying to set you up with Matthew from logistics, you were getting pounded by Ol’ Captain here?”

“Jesus, Tony.” You grimaced. “Why would you put it like that?”

“So, this is why Steve was extremely against my brilliant idea of locking you and Matthew in the bathroom together? That jealous bastard!”

“Your what-” You choked.

“That wasn’t the only reason why, Tony.” Steve huffed. “That’s just plain weird.”

“You know what else is weird, Cap?” Tony narrowed his eyes. “The fact that you’re hoeing around with a girl who’s literally a baby compared to you.”

“I’m not ‘hoeing around’, Tony. I love her.”

Tony’s eyes danced between you and Steve until his face finally relaxed.

He sighed, coming around to your side of the bed and planting a kiss on your head.

“Happy birthday, kid. I would hug you but I’m pretty sure you’re naked under there.” He turned to face Steve again. “If you break her heart, hang onto your dentures, 'cause I’m blasting your dusty ass back into the ‘40s, got it?. ”

“Got it, Tony.” Steve smiled.

“Ew, don’t smile at me like that.” Tony made a face and looked back at you. “I had a backup present, just in case the whole surprise thing went to shit.”

Tony fished out something from his pocket, placing it into your hand.

"You mentioned something about how you loved to use that stupid chicken butt joke when you were a kid," Tony mumbled.

It was a chicken butt magnet.

You loved it.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel fanfiction #crack fic

163 notes · View notes

kararomanoff · 11 months

Text

who's your mommy?

This was written by a minor, if you don’t like that that’s okay you don’t need to read.

when Natasha comes over for a week to stay with you and your mom, she learns that you may have had sex with your now ex girlfriend but your hers? Can’t you see that

warning: smut, mommy kink, innocence kink, double sided dildo, legal age gap, pet names(detka means baby in Russian)

this is shit, I apologise for the terrible writing

its summer break from collage and you where back in your home town for a bit staying in your child hood home.

You had grown up with only your mom and big brother, your dad had left when you where 6 for another woman and it broke your mothers beautiful heart, Natasha had come to stay for a year and a half after the day he left to help as your mom had a depressive episode.

eventually you guys became like a little family, you, your mom, your 11 year old big brother and Natasha. you still remember it, you still remember the day she surprised you by taking you out of school for the day and took you to the zoo and you accidently called her mommy.

after a year and a half Natasha had to leave and go back to New York, you never stopped missing her even to this day at 20 you never stopped, of course you still saw her but only every so often, every few years and every time she saw you it always made her proud for the good smart girl you turned out to be.

but lately she had seen you a bit differently, in a more inappropriate way.

today Natasha was coming to visit you and your mom. There was never really anyway to describe how seeing Natasha again made you feel; nervous or excited or maybe scared which was absolutely stupid cause you loved her and she loved you like a daughter, or so you thought and awhile ago she thought the same thing.

''helloo'' the door opens and you hear Natasha shout, you jump up from your seat running to the front door and jumping into her arms ''NATTY!!!'' you shout in her ear with excitement ''detka'' she replys with the same excitement as she holds you as close as possible, smelling your coconut scented hair.

''Natasha'' your moms voice sounds through the front hall of your suburban house. Natasha reluctantly puts you back on the ground and walks over to your mom giving her a big hug and you can see the giant happy smile on your moms face, happy to see her best friend and that some how made your smile grow impossibly bigger knowing how Natasha had always been there for the woman you gave you life no matter what.

you walk up to them pulling Natasha out of your moms arms ''Natty i want your attention, i've not seen you in foreverrrrr!!!'' you whine

''And here i was going to say how grown up you are but it seems like your just the same little girl who called me mommy'' she smirked making you blush and duck your head.

you offered to take Natasha's suit case up stairs to her room that was left from when she lived there, you had never let her move any of her stuff out, always going into her room when you missed her. but Natasha refused and said she'd take it up because she needed a shower any way.

when she was in the shower you started on dinner knowing Natasha cant cook and wanting your mom to relax but secretly wanting to show Natasha to see your cooking skills. you decided to make her favourite, well what was her favourite last time she tried to make you dinner, which was when you where 6 you had never seen her cook since then.

you got the chicken wings out of the fridge and the sauce you made earlier, you dipped the chicken in eggs then bread crumbs and fried them, next putting the crispy chicken and spicy sauce in a tray to put in the oven.

''mhm baby that smells delicious'' Natasha spoke giving you a fright

''oh natty you scared me'' you breathe, hand on your chest

''sorry little one'' she kisses the top of your forehead, she had always done that but this time it was different, it made you feel different, a way you had only felt once with your ex girlfriend Agatha.

''Natty, you need to leave, its a surprise'' you say seriously

''oh yes, how dare i interrupt the chef'' she says with faux seriousness walking out of the kitchen to sit with your mother at the dinning room table.

you continue to cook put the chicken in the oven and setting a timer. You walk into the dinning room to see your mom and Natasha sitting across from one another drinking red wine, you sit in the chair next to Natasha as you wanted needed to be close to her.

you rest your head on her shoulder, looking up at her ''hi'' you whisper

''hi love'' Natasha whispers back making you smile

''i need to go get the dinner'' you say still look up at her beautiful face

''go get it then honey'' she continues to whisper

''okayyyy natty'' you get up wishing you where still close to her, you hadn't actually seen her in 4 years, of course you had called and text but it wasnt the same and you never wanted her to leave again.

you walk in to the kitchen getting the food out of the oven and put it on plates.

you go back to the dinning room giving Natasha her dinner first, then your mom and finally yourself.

''so how's collage been sweetheart?'' Natasha asks

''gooood'' you hum biting into your food

''she has a girlfriend too'' you mom says unknowing how Natasha would react to that ''mh y/n honey this is delicious'' Natasha blocks out what your mother is saying turning to look at you with a look in your eyes you've never seen before, almost like jealousy but that made no sense why would she be jealous?

''we broke up actually'' you say with a saddened voice

''oh baby im so sorry'' Natasha faked sadness for you, she wasn't sorry, she wanted you, she was going to be your mommy again. ''but i hope there wasn't any touching'' she turns to give you condescending look, you cant reply knowing that there was, but only once.

she picked up on this giving you what you thought was a disappointed look.

for the rest of dinner Natasha practically ignored you and it broke your heart thinking she was disappointed in you.

--------------------------------------

it was now 10pm, you, your mom and Natasha had all watched your favourite movie. You had cuddled into Natasha the whole time but she hadn't said a word to you, she hadn't even looked at you.

''imma go to bed now'' you say getting up from your spot on the sofa.

''goodnight honey, i love you'' your mom said

''goodnight mom i love you too........goodnight Natty.... i've missed you and i love you'' and for the since dinner Natasha looked at you, her eyes soft ''i love you too little one''

----------------------------

you are lying in bed in your favourite pjs that Natasha had got you for your birthday a few years ago unable to sleep knowing Nat was upset with you, you couldn't sleep like this. you get up from your bed and tip toe down the hall till your reach Natasha's bed room door, debating where to knock or just to walk in, you decide on just walking in in case she is sleeping.

when you walk in you are surrounded by the sound of panting, you frow your brows ''Natty are you okay?''

''fuck'' you here her mumble and see her head pop out of under the covers, you start to laugh and Natasha's face changed from a worried one to a confused one ''what, what's funny?''

''Natty! your hairs so messy! what the hell where you doing?'' you giggle, Natasha smiles seeing that your still her innocent little girl.

''i was just thinking about you baby girl'' that was true she was thinking about you she may just have been........ touching herself at the same time

''thinking about me makes your hair crazy?'' you continue to giggle

''it makes lots of things crazy detka''

''can i come into your bed natty?'' this was her shot, in all honesty she came this week of course because she had missed you but really because she needed to touch you, to have you, it wasn't a want anymore.

''of course you can sweetheart you don't even need to ask'' with that you get in to her bed, cuddling your head into her chest. ''how did you and your girlfriend touch honey?'' she speaks after a minutes silence and you blush yet again '' was it like this?'' Natasha cups your pussy with her already wet hand that was covered in her juices.

she watches as your face scrunches up ''Natty....what- what are you-'' Natasha cuts you off ''teaching you who you belong to princess and calling me mommy'' she says pulling your pj bottoms down as you whine.

''no panties?''

'' Aggie said it was bad to wear panties''

'' well she was right baby but you still wore your pj bottoms, you should do that because if mommy thinks you need her it'll be really hard for mommy to help you'' she rasps

'' 'm sorry mommy'' you squeaked as she started to rub her fingers against your clit

'' its okay, Aggie was mean and didn't tell you that but mommy did because im nice and i want to be able to help my baby'' Natasha speeds her fingers up making you moan as she lies between your legs teasing you. ''mommy is going to show you soooo much love tonight, you have no idea how long mommys waited to have you here'' Natasha then takes her fingers of your clit to see how you'd react, she wasn't going to let this be over fast, she had waiting to long for it to end in 2 minutes.

''mommy wh- why did you stop?'' you voice shakes needing to feel her against you again.

''awww do you need mommy to make you feel better, to fix the feeling in your tummy?'' she teases as she gets up walking over to her dresser and stripping

''yes mommy please, please please fix it, it hurts. i need you mommy'' you beg relentlessly just like she imaged you would.

she was turned away from you so you couldn't see what she was doing, she open one of her drawers pulling something out and after a few seconds turning back around.

''mommy whats that?'' you ask in fear as you stare down at the two sided dildo, the smaller side already inside of her.

''its whats gonna make you fell better dove'' Natasha climbed atop the bed pulling you down by your open legs ''this is gonna hurt a little sweetheart but i promise that in a few minutes you'll feel amazing, okay?'' she was worried for you but far more excited to ruin you and make you all hers, her little baby.

she starts to slowly push the head of the strap inside of you, making you let out a scream ''honey you need to be quite for mommy'' she whispered hoping that put it in your head to be quite.

once half of the strap is inside of you Natasha starts to take it out only to then thrust the entire length into you

she watched in pride as you bite your lip to stop your scream and tears streamed out of your eyes ''such a good girl for mommy, i promise it gets better'' Natasha's voice is surprisingly soft. she starts to very slowly thrust into you, loving all the noises of your cute little whines.

''mommy can i have more please?'' you moan into her ear, how could she say no to that. Natasha starts to thrust recklessly into you “mo-mommy mhm I-“ you moan

“Gonna cum all over mommy’s cock huh?” She rasp as she feels the coil in her stomach and brings her hand down to play with your clit

“mommy it to mu-much” you whine “feel like imma explode mommy”

“it’s okay baby explode for mommy” she thrust, look down to see you squirt all over her dick “such a good little girl” Natasha hums

“mommy- to much now” you cry after your orgasm is over as Natasha continues to thrust in to you at an outrageous speed.

“mommy need to cum to honey so be a good girl and lie still and let mommy use you as her fuck toy” you whine but do as told wanting to do what Natasha asks of you

“who’s your mommy?” Her voice is lustful as she gets herself off using your body

“you” the whispers falls out of your mouth

“who own you baby? Aggie?” She growls at her own mention of the woman

“no you own me mommy”

“fuck” Natasha groans as she finally cums riding out her high and pulling out of you, then taking the other end out of herself. Natasha climbs into the bed pulling you into her arms

“you mine now baby girl and no else is going anywhere near you”

#natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natalia romanova #fanfic #mcu #natasha romanov #natasha x y/n #wlw smut #lesbian #mommy!nat #mommy natasha #mommys fucktoy

442 notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 1 year

Text

Distanced

Summary: can u write an imagine with reader and drew starkey being at the beginning of the dating stage (met through friends and even though they both really like each other they haven’t revealed their love face to face) so during a party reader saw drew talking with a few actress, influencers, LA girls and she gets jealous and insecure so she starts distancing herself to him thinking that she doesn’t deserve him and she’s too ugly for him but she doesn’t explain herself and drew thinks that he had done something bad and after weeks decide to have a discussion annnnd they both revealed their feelings.

Warnings: Discussions of body image issues, alcohol use, I think that might be everything?

Author’s Note: Sorry this is so long - I started writing and kept going. It’s been a busy few days so I haven’t been writing as much but hopefully I’ll be back to it now :)

———

The thing about being in the celebrity world was that, eventually, everyone was connected. Whether it was a friend of a friend who worked with another guy on a film ten years ago, or it was a neighbour’s neighbour - everyone eventually got to someone else. That’s how you’d met the majority of the people that you considered friends in the industry. You’d released your first album three years ago but it still felt like you were taking your first steps in being ‘famous’. Thankfully, you’d met some good people - Kelsea had become like a sister to you and she’d taken you under her wing instantly. Since she’d started dating Chase, too, she’d been introducing you to more and more people - notably, Drew. She knew that you two would hit it off when she introduced you at a party and you clicked almost instantly, spending the entire night talking in a booth away from the crowd. Since then, he texted you everyday, he’d become the guy you rang when you were walking home or in a taxi on your own, the one you texted to say a quick ‘home safe’. He sent you stupid videos he found online, and facetimed you to listen to him run his lines, or when he needed help with what to wear to an event. Drew was just… nice, you know?

“Okay, sorry, I’m back,” His face pops back into the frame of the facetime call as he sits back down on the couch and picks up his phone from where it was sat pointing up towards the ceiling, “My food arrived.”

“What did you order?” You ask, propping your phone up against the coffee machine on your counter so that you could open your own bag of takeout food.

“I went for chinese food,” He grins, pulling out the boxes of takeout.

“Me too,” You laugh, “But the good place was closed so I had to order from the kind of shitty one.”

“You hate the kind of shitty one, you’re going to eat the chicken and say that it’s a bit dry and that your rice doesn’t have enough flavor, and then you’re going to complain that your takeout night was ruined.”

You narrow your eyes at him through the screen, “That happened one time! How do you even remember that?”

Drew chuckles and sets his phone down so that he can eat, leaning it against the lamp beside his couch so that he’s still visible in the frame, “I remember things (Y/L/N).”

“Okay, which film did you choose?”

“Oh, I picked a terrible one, you’re going to love it. And I think if we try a few times we’ll be able to get the timing perfect this time.”

~~~

“Okay so what are we actually going to tonight?” You ask Kelsea, laying back against the cushions on her bed as she potters around the room, deciding on her outfit.

“It’s a party, I don’t know anything more than that,” She laughs, “It’s meant to be good though, it seems like everyone in LA is going.”

“I don’t like these things, they’re so stressful,” You grumble, pulling the hood of your hoodie up over your head.

“Well maybe if you started getting ready you’d feel more up for it a-“

She’s cut off by the sound of a key in the door, followed by two familiar voices laughing as they walk in. The pair round the corner and you’re met with the sight of Chase and Drew coming into the apartment.

“Hey honey,” Chase grins when he sees Kelsea, going over to kiss her quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Hey (Y/N),” Drew wiggles his brows, slipping off his shoes and flopping down onto the bed next to you, he looks at you and puckers his lips exaggeratively.

“Grow up,” You roll your eyes, turning around so you can rest your head against his chest sideways, your legs dangling off the side of the bed as he stretches down the length of the mattress.

“(Y/N) I need you to talk some sense into Drew here,” Chase encourages, “He doesn’t want to come tonight.”

“I mean, I’m not up for it yet either,” You shrug, “I need like a shot or two and then I’ll be more in the mood to party.”

“Shots, okay, we can do shots,” Chase nods, “How about you two can start getting ready, and we’ll make dinner, and we’ll get some drinks. Sound good?”

“I didn’t agree to make dinner,” Drew points out, “Frankly I can’t think of anything worse.”

You reach a hand back to poke at his ribs and he flinches back from you, locking an arm around your neck and shoulders to trap you against him. He uses his other arm to tickle at your sides until you’re writhing underneath his touch.

“Drew!” You squeal, fighting to get away from him, your legs flailing.

Chase and Kelsea look at each other with a knowing expression, like they were watching the start of a film they already knew the ending to - a sort of inevitability that it seemed impossible to avoid.

~~~

You spend the next hour or two getting ready with Kelsea, changing your outfit three times before settling on one - a black crop top with spaghetti straps and a pair of wide leg black pants, heels underneath that were practically hidden by the excess length of the trousers.

“You guys ready to go? The uber’s here!” Chase calls out, knocking a couple of times on the door of the bedroom before poking it open just an inch or two before opening it fully, “Alright, good to go?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Kelsea nods, smoothing her hands over her dress.

When she goes over to him, he wraps an arm around her and tells her she looks beautiful, kissing her shoulder. You follow behind and see Drew waiting for you as the other two leave just ahead.

“Well don’t you scrub up well,” He grins, reaching out his elbow for you to link an arm with his, still taller than you even with your heels on.

“Not so bad yourself, Starkey,” You laugh, holding your hand around his bent arm to help you walk with him.

“Okay, so, how long do we have to stay at this thing tonight?” Drew asks, stepping forward and reaching out a hand for you to take as you’re about to descend the stairs.

“Come on, it’ll be fine, at least we know a few people that will be there,” You point out, “Can’t be that bad.”

“You’ll be regretting saying that later, I promise,” He shakes his head, waving his hand a little more in front of you, “Come on, hurry up.”

He’s wearing a dark green button up shirt and black carpenter jeans, baggy around his legs. It seems to darken the features of his face, defining the freckles around his nose and cheeks, lessening the normal brightness in his eyes. His hair is growing out now from him shaving it for Outer Banks and you’re sure it gives him an innocence beyond what anyone else saw. You loved it most when it was messy, a hundred directions on his head, a sort of carelessness to it.

“Are you coming or what?”

It’s Chase that calls up from the bottom of the stairwell. And you realise for all of the time you’d been staring at Drew, admiring him, he’d been staring at you too.

~~~

The party is already busy when you arrive and there’s people queuing up outside to try to get in. Drew links arms with you as you get out of the car, like he’s constantly scared you’re on the brink of falling whenever you’re in heels. It’s in a club, already littered with tens too many bodies, and music that pounds from the walls, chatter drowned out by the noise.

“Let’s go get us some drinks,” Drew says into your ear and he moves his hand from your arm to press on the small of your back, guiding you in front of him as if he would shield you from the growing crowd behind.

You slip through non-existent gaps in the crowd until you eventually break through to the bar, waiting in the queue with Drew behind you. His hand falls to your waist, his body towering over you from behind and his eyes seemingly on full alert for everything and everyone around you.

“A tequila sprite and a rum and coke please,” You call over the bar to the server who nods at you with a smile, taking two glasses to prepare the drinks.

Drew shifts into the space beside you and leans his forearms on the bar, “Are you trying to get me-“

“Hey!” It’s a voice from beside him that interjects, a girl.

She’s about your age, you think, with makeup that you’re certain you couldn’t match even with the best products. She must be a model, and her outfit is like something straight from a runway. You’re suddenly aware of how itchy your top feels around your chest, and how your trousers don’t seem to be sitting in the right place on your waist anymore. But you ignore it, turning back to the bartender as he pours in the rest of your drink.

“Have we met before?” She asks to Drew, her hand falling to his upper arm.

He looks at her with a frown, “No, no, I don’t think so. I guess I would remember if we did.”

“Well, yours is a face I definitely wouldn’t forget,” She smiles in return, “Who did you come with tonight?”

“Just a few friends,” He returns.

You pause with the drinks glasses in your hand, suddenly hyperaware of how the condensation seems to scratch with the cold against your palms. A few friends. He wasn’t wrong. You and him were just friends, right?

“Well, maybe if your friends don’t mind you could come and dance with me,” The girl smiles, her hand not yet moving from his arm.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll see you around.”

With that, she disappears and Drew turns back in your direction, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, um, here,” You clear your throat, stretching out an arm to give him his drink.

He takes it from you and smiles, taking a sip, “Alright, should we go find the other two?”

You nod and follow behind him in the crowd, he stretches an open hand back as if offering for you to take it but you pause before doing so. It was still undecided in your mind if that was a good thing or a bad thing that he’d been so completely nonchalant. Like that had just happened and it didn’t mean anything. Did it not mean anything because he wasn’t trying to flirt back? Or did it not mean anything because he didn’t think you should care if he was flirting?

After a second too long without your hold, Drew turns back to look for you, eyes flicking between you and his empty hand as if reminding you that he needed to know you were there. You place your hand in his palm and let his fingers wrap around you, not making any move to hold his hand back, just yet.

You meet up with Kelsea and Chase and end up on the dancefloor. Your drink is finished by now and so is another and another, and at some point you’d all done two rounds of shots. Drew is dancing beside you, his arm bumping yours as he moves, trying to make you laugh with every exaggerated dance, or every effort to shout the lyrics of every song he recognised.

At some point, a group of girls are dancing beside you and one of them reaches out to tap Drew on the shoulder. He turns around one another of the girls reaches a hand out for him to take, spinning herself around and starting to dance with him. Chase nudges you and points in that direction as if you hadn’t seen it in the first place, watching as Drew gets engulfed by the group, dancing with them as they laugh at his moves. Kelsea glances in your direction and her brows drop as if concerned, as if worried for your reaction. You force yourself to smile at her and tear your eyes away from Drew, taking a long sip of your drink.

This was silly. You couldn’t keep thinking about this. But the more you thought about not thinking it, the more you thought about it. And you found yourself looking to the group of girls more and more often. They were all in different dresses, and you were sure you recognised their faces from the TikToks that could come up on your for you page of ‘get ready with me’ videos or ‘get dressed with me to go to…’ videos, another two of them you’ve seen at a fashion week before. They’re gorgeous. Their makeup still looks pristine even after hours of being in this hot club. And you’re suddenly aware of how yours is starting to feel more obvious on your face, how your foundation probably doesn’t look as good as it did when you left. How the curl of your lashes has probably dropped by now, your lipgloss non existent. You’re thinking of everything.

When you look back again, Drew’s leaning down to the height of one of the girls so that she can speak into his ear. He laughs at something she’s said and pulls away slightly, his eyes catching yours as his gaze flicks away from her. He smiles but you find yourself looking away before you can think to smile back, feeling slightly less comfortable amongst the party of unknown people.

~~~

You’d stayed at Kelsea’s that night, sleeping in her spare room, and you’re up before she is, a cup of coffee in hand as you’re sat on her balcony.

“Hey, honey,” Her voice cuts in as you’re halfway through your cup of coffee, “How long have you been up?”

“Not long, the pot’s still full if you want some,” You smile, tucking your feet underneath you on the chair.

“I’ll grab some in a minute,” Kelsea responds, sitting down on the other chair, “So, how are you doing after last night?”

You look at her and ponder giving a dismissive response but her face is too genuine to try and lie to, “I- I don’t know how to feel.”

“Okay, well I’m just going to start this by saying you’re allowed to feel upset, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know if I am though Kels, like me and Drew are just friends - why would I think that I have any place to feel any type of way about him and girls from clubs, you know?” You shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee to stop your bottom lip from trembling, “I just… me and him… I’ve never seen him with girls like that, so I didn’t know what to think.”

Kelsea nods, knowing to let you speak before she says her piece.

“I know we’re friends, and that’s fine. But I just saw those girls and I saw the way they were with him and they looked so… and they had this like confidence and they just…” You take in a shaky breath, “I’m not them. I’m not going to be them.”

“Oh honey!” Kelsea comes off from her chair and crouches in front of you, her hands on your knees, “(Y/N) you don’t need to be them. Drew doesn’t want you to be them. Do you know that? I see the way he is with you, the way he talks about you, that’s not the way you talk about someone if you’re just friends. Those girls, the club, last night, they were coming up to him, he wanted to be with you. I know he did.”

You want to believe her. But even the mention of his name forces the thoughts of last night back into your head, cycling through them like snapshot images, each one a little clearer and stinging just a little more.

“I’ll be okay,” You reach one of your hands down to squeeze Kelsea’s, “It was just one night. It’s okay.”

She furrows her brows and rubs her thumb over your knee, “Alright, I’m going to go and wake Chase up before he’s late for his press stuff.”

Kelsea disappears back inside and you sip down the rest of your coffee, drawing your legs up to your chest and trying to breathe out the tightness between your lungs, blinking away the blur of tears from your eyes.

~~~

It’s a day later when you realise you can only go so long avoiding Drew - perhaps less time than you’d originally thought that it would take. He had texted you a bunch yesterday, originally a good morning text, then turning into a couple of videos he thought were funny, ending the video string with one about when ‘the one person you speak to doesn’t reply’. By the night, he sent you one message saying that he was starting to get worried now that you hadn’t replied, and that he just wanted to check if you were okay. Today, he had called you in the morning and then followed up from his other text saying he was probably just being stupid but he wanted to make sure you were good. You reply with a simple;

Just been busy, got studio sessions coming up. Speak soon

You debate sending a heart at the end but delete it before pressing send. He reads it straight away and responds;

Fuck me I’m just glad you’re alive, felt weird going more than a day without speaking to you!! Hope your studio sessions go well, superstar <;3

You like the message and lock your phone, the same tightness settling on your chest as you’d had at the club, as you’d had yesterday morning. Your breath turns shaky again and you try to ignore it.

The next few days go relatively the same - Drew texts you in the morning, sends you something that reminds you of him or tells you to listen to a song that he’s found. You reply a few hours later with a short response or just react to the message, not wanting conversations to carry on like they normally do.

Another couple of days in, he calls you as you’re leaving the gym and you wait for it to go to voicemail, listening to it as soon as the notification comes through.

“Hey, superstar. I wasn’t sure if I’d get through to you, but I’m guessing you’re busy, um, just calling to say… well, I don’t know what I’m calling to say. Just that I miss you, I mean it’s only been a few days but… I don’t know. Feels weird not talking to you, so call me when you get the chance, let’s make plans or something. Alright, I’ll leave you to… well, I don’t know what you’re doing, which is weird, it feels like I always know what’s going on with you… um … whatever, call me back, or don’t if you don’t want to, I don’t know I-“

It cuts off after that and you’re just met with the monotone voice of your voicemail asking if you want to repeat the message. You listen to it once, twice again, finding comfort in the sound of his voice for those digital seconds.

Your finger hovers over his contact as you think of calling him back but you shift it to the text button instead.

hey! sorry i didn’t get to my phone in time - just been busy with the new album so the days are just going too fast. not sure when i’ll be free, i’m sorry

He reads it instantly and the elipsis bubble appears to say he is typing, disappearing and then reappearing a couple of times.

i told you not to forget me when you were famous (y/l/n). I miss you!!!!

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying at the words, reluctant to try to come up with any response that would feel fitting.

speak soon !!

~~~

It’s another week later when Kelsea invites you over for dinner, one of those sort of ‘no isn’t an option’ invites. You turn up with a bottle of wine and she wraps you in a bear hug when she sees you, a hand on your shoulder before she lets you come into the apartment.

“What’s going on?” You frown, looking at the slightly panicked expression on her face.

“Okay, don’t be mad,” She winces, “But Chase didn’t realise you were coming tonight and Drew’s here before they go out for dinner with the cast. He’s been asking about you.”

You shrug your shoulders, shake your head, “No, it’s okay, don’t worry. We’re friends, it’s fine.”

She furrows her brows a little, “Are you sure?”

“Of course!” You force a smile that you’re certain is believable enough and she must believe you, leading the way into the kitchen where there’s already a dinner cooking on the stove.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Chase gets up as you walk in, hugging you quickly.

You hug him back and, over his shoulder, spot the sight of Drew standing from his chair at the kitchen island.

“Hey stranger!” He raises his brows, “Where’ve you been?”

“Just a busy couple of weeks,” You nod, tightening your grip around the bottle of wine, “Been a bit M.I.A I guess.”

“Yeah, just a little,” He smiles softly, his eyes seeming to yearn for a little piece of you to come back to him, “Well it’s good to see you.”

You clear your throat, “You too.”

You try not to notice the way he watches you as you cross the kitchen, taking your jacket off and finding a bottle opener in the drawer to open the wine. You avoid eye contact when he watches your move to grab a glass from the shelf, pouring a portion of the liquid into the glass and swirling it around.

When you take a seat at the island, it’s the one furthest away from him. And when his eyes find yours then, it’s like they’re full of worry for his defeat - like this had just confirmed every thought that had been going through his head for the past week and a half. You, once again, find yourself trying to ignore the tightness in your chest, the way it restricts your breath as if he’s pulled it into him. Your eyes turn away from him as soon as you can force yourself to.

You’re just leaving Kelsea’s that night when you see the call come through. You’re almost a full bottle of wine in and it’s late as you’re descending the elevator to get to your Uber.

Your phone buzzes and your lowered inhibitions are the only reason you answer.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N),” His voice sounds slightly breathless on the other end of the phone, “You answered.”

“What’s happening Rafe?”

“Um…” He clears his throat and it crackles down the phone line, “Chase just said that Kelsea texted saying you were heading home. I figured you’d be getting a taxi.”

“I am,” You return, “I’m going down to it now.”

“I always call you when you’re getting a taxi.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “No, you don’t need to-“

“I always do (Y/N). We’ve known each other for seven months, and I always call when you’re in the taxi, why wouldn’t I?”

“Have you been drinking, Drew?”

“Have you?”

Both of you are silent.

“Is that the only reason you answered?” He asks and you’re sure you can hear a shake in the words.

You don’t respond.

“What’s going on, (Y/N)?” There’s definitely a shake now, somewhere close to a tremble, “Why does it feel like I’m losing you?”

“You’re not losing me I’ve just been b-“

“Don’t say you’ve been busy,” He quips, “You’re always busy, but you always make time. This isn’t that, this is different.”

You’re silent.

“Answer me (Y/N),” He doesn’t raise his voice, but the tension in his words seems heightened, harsher.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“I’m free now,” He responds, “I’ll be at yours in half an hour.”

It might be the remaining buzz of alcohol in your system, or the sight of your taxi driver turning into the road, your way home, to Drew, but you don’t think twice when you say;

“Okay.”

~~~

A painfully slow thirty minutes later, Drew buzzes your front door to come up to your flat. He lets himself in and you’re sat waiting as if counting the seconds of him ascending in the elevator. You’ve drank a bottle of water by now and the wait has seemed to sober you up quicker than usual. And then there’s a knock at your apartment door and you’re sure your heart stops as you open it.

He’s wearing a shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, wrinkled around the bottom from where it had been tucked in but wasn’t anymore. He looks disheveled as if he’d rushed to get here before the minutes caught up with him, or perhaps before you changed your mind.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” He breathes out, “You look beautiful.”

You were wearing a baggy t-shirt that hung around your thighs, a pair of gym shorts underneath, your hair pulled back from your face in a bun with strands seeming to fall out on their own accord, no makeup on your face but your cheeks rosy from the wine in your system.

“Do you want to come in?”

He steps through your front door and you step past him to close it. Drew doesn’t make any effort to move further and neither do you. He’s just stood in your hallway looking at you and you’re stood with your back a few feet from the front door, somewhat feeling isolated now you knew he wasn’t leaving.

“What’s going on (Y/N)?” His shoulders drop as if he just needed to get the words off of his chest, a relief slipping over his features to finally say the words to your face.

“I-“ You take in a deep breath, “I just feel like things are weird between us.”

“They’re weird, yeah,” He scoffs, “They’re weird because you’ve been avoiding me.”

Drew laughs then and you find yourself letting out a little laugh too, the two of you gripping onto the pieces of normality that still remained.

“Did something happen at that party? Because I’ve been wracking my brain and that’s the last night I can remember where it felt like things were normal. And since then I’ve barely seen you. Did something happen? Did I do something? Did I say something?”

You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself as if you’re cowering away from the idea of having to admit to anything.

“(Y/N)…”

“I hated it-“ You stop yourself, letting your thoughts gather, “We were at that party and I hated it. These girls were flocking to you and flirting with you and chatting to you and all I could think about was how much I hated it. Which is stupid because I have no reason to feel like that but I couldn’t help it and then I hated that I felt like that because I-“

“(Y/N), breathe,” Drew steps towards you, his hand reaching out and lacing with yours.

The contact seems to ground you, his eyes burning into your skin but somehow seeming to calm the raging fire of your nerves.

“I know I have no reason to be jealous, I know that, but I just,” You shake your head, “I was jealous.”

“You were jealous,” Drew returns, the corners of his mouth upturning with the slightest glimpse of brightness on his features.

“It’s stupid because I know we’re just friends and I know that I don’t want to lose that and-“

“You were jealous,” He’s really fighting back a smile now, but it seems to fight harder against him as his lips stretch into a grin.

You look up at him then, your eyes locking with his, you’re sure you forget how to breathe for just a second.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” His brows furrow for a second but he doesn’t seem to lose the joy on his face.

“I just-“ You look down again, “I didn’t want things to be weird between us, or for you to lie and say that you felt the same way.”

Drew moves his free hand up and presses a thumb underneath your chin, his index finger bending around the front to push your chin upwards, guiding your eyes towards him, guiding you back to him. His eyes are sincere, flicking between either of yours.

“It wouldn’t be a lie.”

You open your mouth and close it again, words catching on your tongue as you’re sure your whole body is going to freeze in this exact spot. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing - to stay in this moment.

“But maybe next time you’re feeling jealous, just tell me. Does that sound good to you?” He dips his head just slightly, his fingers not moving from around your chin.

You laugh lightly and nod your head, “That sounds good.”

He chuckles and moves his hand around to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the skin, “And those girls? They’re not you.”

You feel your cheeks heat under his touch, his gaze, his words, “Not me?”

Drew shakes his head, “I don’t think anyone could come close,” He hums, dropping his head closer to you until his lips are just an inch from you, breath hot over your features.

In just a second, his lips press to yours, softly as if savouring the feeling of the first time. His hand moves from yours to instead drop to your hip, guiding you backwards until your back is flush against the door. With the contact, he deepens his kiss against your lips, his fingers slipping back into your hair.

When he pulls away, you’re both a little breathless against each other.

“God I’ve waited so long to do that,” He mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours, a smile crawling onto his lips.

“Next time please don’t wait so long,” You laugh, your arms moving to link your hands behind his neck.

“I don’t plan on it,” Drew smirks, dipping his head once again to kiss you, more sure of himself than before.

And, then, you’re sure. You’d stay locked in this moment if you could.

406 notes · View notes

thecuriousquest · 10 months

Text

Breakfast is Ready!

@msfantasy

Yandere Hawks x Yandere Dabi x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, control issues, forced feeding, implied kidnapping, bondage

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

You wake up to the chipper call of Hawks telling you that breakfast is on the table. Dabi groans next to you, throwing an arm over your torso, trying to fall back into a peaceful sleep.

Dissatisfied by your current circumstances, you let out a rather long groan. There’s a chain to the end of the lavish bed, Keigo’s bed. Well, is it Keigo and Dabi’s bed? The situation is still rather confusing to you. They share you, but that’s all you know.

You don’t hear footsteps until the hero is standing right above you with an apron on. His smile is so cheerful, beaming with the light of the sun. You wonder how someone so bat shit crazy could actually be this happy. Is it all a pretense? Always asking questions to keep yourself preoccupied rather than dwelling on how fucked up your life is now, you snap back to reality when you feel the cuff around your ankle open.

Massaging your sore ankle has become a habit at this point after being kidnapped living with them for a month. Keigo rubs your bed head of hair before helping you up. He shakes the villain awake, and you could laugh at how comically those cerulean eyes open up with the shock of being jolted awake.

“Come on, sleepy heads. Breakfast will get cold soon. Besides, you can’t just sleep the day away.”

“Shut up, bird brain,” Dabi yawns as he scratches his mass of black hair.

All three of you sit down at the table to enjoy a delightful breakfast. That’s what Hawks wanted anyway. You, however, are a defiant little brat according to the duo. You refuse to eat, again. Sometimes, you give in because you just simply can’t handle another punishment. Sometimes, you give in because your stomach feels like it’s beginning to eat itself. However, this time, you just want to knock the plate off the table like a cat and yell at them to go fuck themselves.

You settle for just pushing the plate away. “I’m not hungry.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Another fit? Really? Didn’t you just have one of these last week? Don’t you remember what happened?”

Vividly. How could you forget being tied down to the chair and poked with a flaming blue finger? “You gonna eat now?” He’d say before prodding your soft flesh. “How about now?” “This can all stop if you just eat.” “Oh, you’re crying? Does it hurt? It doesn’t seem like it hurts because you won’t eat the fucking food! What? Do you like it or something? You enjoying this? Don’t want me to stop?”

You could only take about fifteen of those before breaking down in tears and eating. The thought causes you to tense up, jaw going rigid with anger.

How could I have been so weak? Don’t think of it that way! The human body has pain limitations. You could only take so much before giving in.

“Chicken wings went through all that trouble to make breakfast for you, and you’re just gonna waste it?” Blue flames coat his hand.

“Wait a minute, Dabi,” Keigo intervenes.

Dabi’s flames suddenly go out as he looks at the pro hero.

“I think we should take a different approach this time. If she’s not going to eat willingly, then we’ll just have to show her that there are other ways of getting her to eat. Maybe, that will help her understand the picture better in the future. What do you say?”

Patchwork lips curl up in a devious smile. “I think Doll Face deserves it.”

You try to shoot out of your chair and bolt for the bedroom, but Keigo’s hand pushes you back down. You find yourself being pinned on the villain’s lap. He grabs your wrists in one large paw before throwing a leg over both of your shins. His free hand snakes around the back of your neck. You try to thrash away from his grip, to squirm with every feisty cell in your body, but he has you effectively restrained.

Keigo’s task is getting your mouth open. You have it clenched shut, thinking he won’t get past it. It comes at a surprise when he pinches your nose.

Now, you have a choice here: open your mouth or pass out. You try to hold out for the last option as hard as you can, but your lungs yearn for air. Aching terribly with each passing second, your lungs feel fit to burst.

Opening your mouth to suck in a fresh breath, Keigo sticks a fork full of eggs in your mouth. He forces your mouth shut and pinches your nose again.

“Swallow and I’ll let go,” is all he says.

Your eyes begin to water, and not just from the lack of oxygen. It’s from suddenly realizing the hold your captors have over you. Their strength is far superior to yours. They can do anything they want with you. ANYTHING. That thought scares you deeply, burning your core.

They continue to feed you until your plate is empty, until every last bite churns in your stomach uncomfortably. You’re completely exhausted from the ordeal.

“Have you learned your lesson, Little Dove?”

You nod your head. “Y-yes, M-m-masters.”

“And, what lesson is that, Doll Face?” Dabi asks.

Remembering the words from last time, you gulp with shame as you say, “No more tantrums at the table, Masters.”

#my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #yandere #triggering themes #triggering content #keigo takami #mha keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo x reader #mha dabi #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #dabihawks #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

322 notes · View notes

skellymom · 2 months

Text

"HUNT AND PECK"

Hunter x Reader Supporting Character Smutty One Shot

(With comedy mixed in)

(Credit for Pinterest photo: mishusheadache)

FIRST IN THE SERIES: "TALES FROM THE EDIBLE"

(Divider credit: @cafekitsune and @4gelic-wh1spers)

BACKGROUND: Hunter converses with his anatomy. We get to be in BOTH heads at once!

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

WARNING: Swearing, references to sexual organs, sexual sounds, reference to the sexual act, mentions of body fluids, angst, sexual pining, dirty humor, wing men, unspoken consent to the sexual act.

Inspired by a post about Hunter typing "Hunt and Peck" style by" @im-no-jedi

Link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743260093984997376/this-also-speaks-to-how-none-of-the-batch-have

AND

This silly movie scene from the 1980's flick "Real Genius"

youtube

The Batch finished up their latest mission, picking up a new passenger along the way. Y/N was a Force sensitive hitching a ride to a planet they would be passing on the way to Kamino. She would only be with them a few standard days on the Marauder, and the crew made sure she had a comfortable stay.

Within two days Hunter was smitten. He usually kept himself from developing any attachments to nat borns. But...well, this one was different...and difficult to ignore. Of course, he still engaged with her politely. Being a Sergeant and host on this transport, he kept some distance.

Y/N was attractive. Not conventionally, as he wouldn’t consider himself attracted to just ANY pretty face. But she had that...thing. An essence? Something that just took him out at the knees. It was elusive...

...and she smelled SO GOOD. Hell, even when she was sweaty, dirty, just woke up in the morning...heady scent of her body odor with the slightest tang of her sex...

Hunter shifted in the pilot’s seat. His armor codpiece felt tight. Dammit, he NEEDED to stop getting distracted. He was supposed to be sitting watch on the ship.

Technically Echo was to stand this shift. However, he was under the weather and now lying down like the rest of his brothers.

Hunter could hear Crosshair breathing, Echo’s ticking mechanical heart, and smell Tech’s drool...as he slept face down with mouth open. Wreckers' snores were like a power tool, until his sleep apnea kicked in. Hunter would count the seconds unconsciously holding his own breath too...until Wrecker finally inhaled.

Hunter inhaled deeply just thinking about it...

...until Y/N sighed in her sleep. The sound brought his attention back to the heat and tightness in his groin.

Cut it out Peck! Hunter internally warned his cock.

Yes, Hunter nicknamed his pecker. And he admitted it to NO ONE! Although, he came close one time when Echo confidentially revealed to Hunter that he named his scomp.

Oh Broody...you’re such a tight ass PRUDE!

Hunter shot up from the chair looking around the cockpit. He SWORE he heard a whisper so close...unsure if it was outside or INSIDE HIS HEAD!!!

KRIFF, I’m hearing things. Although, it was his THIRD consecutive day of chronic insomnia. Was he hallucinating?

Listening again, Hunter could perceive everyone was asleep and accounted for. He sat back down.

Broody...it’s me! Peck!!! In a strangely soft but high-pitched voice.

Then the voice started clucking.

Hunter spun around in the chair. He felt for CERTAIN there were NO CHICKENS on the Marauder. Shit...he REALLY needed to start taking that nasty tasting sleep medication Tech concocted.

Finally lost my mind...was bound to eventually happen. Lack of sleep, having to look after his bonehead brothers, save Echo, and... sitting here alone in the starlit darkness. Running his hand down his face and resigned himself to having an internal discussion with his own cock. What would it hurt? Besides everyone was asleep. Let’s just go with it and see...

Peck? Hunter called out with his mind.

Yeah Broody?

I’m NOT a prude. Just polite.

Y/N is a grown ass woman, Hunter. You CAN talk to her.

What would I say?

She needs MORE than those furtive glances and puppy dog eyes. Show her the WOLF you are, Hunter.

She’s our guest NOT a sex object!

Oh...so she’s NEVER had an impure thought about YOU?

A very feminine moan and a sigh wafted from the pallet Y/N was sleeping on the bunk room floor. She must have been having a hell of a dream...as Hunter could smell her wet arousal.��

Hunter’s cock was now becoming painful with an intense pressure against his codpiece.

Clucking...C’mon ole boy. Would you deny yourself the opportunity of a grown woman’s consent?

You DON’T KNOW if she even thinks about me THAT WAY!

Oh YES I DO!

Hunter ripped the codpiece off and threw it behind him. His girthy engorged cock staining through his blacks...and leaving a wet spot.

Ohh...THANK FORCE you let me out! Suffocating in there!!! Clucking...

SHUT UP! Hunter pushed his pecker down between his legs, then crossed them tightly.

Mmhmm, hmm, mhm mmm... Muffled speech. Clucking intensified.

DANK FERRICK! She did look at him a lot and smiled. He could sense her body reacting to him MUCH differently than his brothers. The thrumming of her presence on his senses. Something he guessed was her Force sensitivity. It would tickle his nerve endings and make him shiver...in a VERY good way. Was Y/N flirting with the Force? Hunter wasn’t exactly sure.

But he didn’t want to take advantage and come off as a creep.

Hunter was so caught up in his head he barely registered a rustling...

...and swung the chair around to face...

...Y/N standing there, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, eyes hooded in desire.

Hunter sprang up out of the chair and his cock sprang up from between his legs. His expression was of dumb embarrassment due to all the blood rushing away from his brain.

Her gaze lingered on his cock. Then she stared him straight in the eyes...

...and dropped her blanket. She was buck naked.

Hunter’s jaw dropped. Y/N giggled seductively, strolled over to Hunter and pressed everything she had up against him.

He almost died of heart failure but managed to gently slide both hands up her back in a tender caress.

“Are you sure???”

“Yes, Hunter...PLEASE EAT me and FUCK me!” With that she grabbed two handfuls of his luxurious hair and devoured his mouth.

Hunter, ever the gentleman who could follow directions to the letter, obliged her.

“Permission to FINALLY stop drooling upon the sheets? Feel like I’m still on Kamino...” Tech whispered.

Quiet moaning from the cockpit area.

Echo whispered back on the comm channel “Everyone, the coast is clear. Target engaged.”

Everyone received the order via earpiece. They could now relax and drop the ruse of being asleep.

Tech sighed, “Now I can FINALLY get in the refresher. He was spending an abnormal amount of time in there lately...”

“Look who's talking, Mr Clean. Wrecker piped up. “Shiniest dick in the galaxy.”

“At least Hunter cleans the cum off the shower walls.” Tech shot Wrecker a baleful stare

“Ey, can’t help I got a big dick.” Wrecker smiled like a shithead, nodding at Tech’s crotch. “Can’t help making a BIG splash...and miss some at times.”

“ARE YOU IMPLYING MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGAN IS LESS THAN SUFFICIENT SIZE???”

Echo interrupted on comm, “Will the two of you QUIET THE FUCK DOWN! Our target will disengage...and Y/N will not acquire the asset!”

Wrecker giggled, “Oh, she’s definitely acquiring that ASS-ET!” Getting louder again.

Echo and Tech shushed him again.

Clucking continued over the coms...

Echo slid to the edge of his bunk and looked up. Crosshair lay on the top bunk, pillow pressed savagely over his face. He was shaking and clucking like a deranged farm fowl.

“If I had known you’d carry on so much, would have been the voice myself. Plus, you SERIOUSLY veered off script!” Echo sneered. Wondering if he was the only one on this ship, save their guest, to have at least one brain cell.

His musing was interrupted by much louder moans, sexual swears, and the wet slapping of flesh.

“Engage ear protection. Sound cancelling level 10. NO eavesdropping, men. We may be feral and efficient commandos, but we STILL have some semblance of morals!”

The clucking turned to coughing. “That’s what YOU think!” Crosshair finally got a hold of himself.

Echo rolled his eyes and threw the covers over his head. Thankfully N/A being Force sensitive was able to help them by dampening their ambient noise to Hunter's senses and...

...OH!

Echo’s eyes popped open realizing...she ALSO had to give CROSSHAIR access to the mental conversation in Hunter’s head to be as effective a voice as possible!

And... Crosshair laughed all through it like a fucking MANIAC!

Echo sighed. That boy ain’t right....

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

*Bone-us content: This vintage tune from my young adulthood (1990's) popped into my head...and thought I'd share. Hunter diggin' that bad girl and how she smelled.

youtube

83 notes · View notes

sicklyseraphnsuch · 4 months

Text

(prev)

When Hiccup returns to the hut, he finds their guest awake, and sitting up. That's good. That's an improvement. Before Hiccup could take a better look at the guy, Gothi parks herself in front of him.

"He's delicate," she scribbles on the ground. "The seas left its mark. Don't excite him too much." She punctuates those last two words with a tap of her walking stick.

Hiccup lifts both hands up. "Alright, okay! I'll be careful! You make it sound like I'm gonna give him a heart attack!"

"Are you?" A low voice croaks out.

Hiccup turns to face their guest. And yeah, okay. He gets where Gothi's coming from. The guy looks like he's two steps from entering Hel or Valhalla, probably Hel from the looks of him. He's thinner than Hiccup, but then again, Hiccup has filled out a little. He's got honest-to-Thor biceps now. But this guy - Hiccup has seen chickens with more meat on their wings than this guy has in his arms. And he's deathly pale, which makes sense given the circumstances. Seriously, Hiccup could trace the guy's veins - blue, nearly black, against his skin. Hiccup never had the good fortune of seeing a dead body - not the way Ruffnut and Tuffnut keep saying they have. But Hiccup hopes this guy will be the closest he'll ever get.

And yet... The weirdest part about this guy has to be his face. Hiccup can't figure it out but there's just something really weird about his face. It wasn't the eyes or the hair, both colored a common as dirt brown. So what...

"If you keep making a face like that, you'll really give me a heart attack," the guy murmurs, cutting through Hiccup's thoughts.

"I think you can manage one without any help..." Hiccup replies.

The guy snorts. "I'm feeling better if you can believe it." He nods at Gothi. "Can she talk? All she's done this whole time is stare at me. I swear I never saw her blink."

"Yeah... She does that. But um... good, I mean, about your uh health. Glad to hear it." Hiccup rubs the back of his neck. He's supposed to ask the guy more about himself, but outside of a straight up interrogation, he's never been good at the 'let's get to know each other' kinda stuff. They shoulda sent Gobber to do this, now there's someone that can get folks to tell stories. But Dad says it's all part of his Chief training, whatever that means.

"Thanks for pulling me out of the ice," the guy says. "This was mighty kind of you, and really, if there's any sort of payment I can offer, just let me know? Unless, I mean, my Mom spoke to you already?"

"Your... Mom...." Hiccup echoes. He can feel his face freezing up. His Mom? But there was never - They couldn't even find a shipwreck.

"Yeah, you know. A woman that looks kinda like me, almost like we're related or something." The guy goes on.

Hiccup's throat dries up and he clenches his jaw. This guy washed ashore with nothing but the strange clothes on his back. They figured him for dead before he started coughing like he was trying to throw up his lungs. It was... Yeah, Hiccup doesn't like remembering it too much. If this guy was that bad, then anyone else would be...

"And she keeps calling herself too old or that I'll give her gray hairs, but really she doesn't look a day over a hundred." The guy chuckles, or tries to, mostly he makes this wet, wheezing noise.

Hiccup opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. "We... There was no one else in the water..."

He braces himself for the guy to start wailing, to froth up a rage - some kind of strong response. But the guy just tilts his head. And oh. Hiccup gets it now - the thing that's been bothering him about this guy's face. He's always kinda smiling. As if a grin is permanently pasted on his face, even when his hands are balled into fists, even when his shoulders are drawn in tight, even when there's literally nothing about him that matches a smile.

"Well... That's good, right? I was the only one in the water then. But so... Does my Mom know I'm here? Does my sister?"

Okay. Well. Now Hiccup's just confused. "No... How would we reach out to your family? Do they live nearby?"

"Uh... Yeah? I mean, maybe? Do you guys live anywhere near Hawthorne?"

"I... have never heard of that place."

"What? No. That can't be right. Hawthorne's barely the size of a village, sure, but it's the only settlement for miles!"

Hiccup slowly shakes his head. "No... I don't remember hearing of someplace like that."

At last, the guy's grin falls away as he scowls at the blankets. He chews on his lip, clearly thinking hard.

Hiccup tries to remember if he's ever heard of a Hawthorne. But he comes up blank. "I can -"

"Where is-"

They share a look. Now it's Hiccup's turn to crack a grin. "You first."

The guy blinks. "Oh, uh... I was um... Where am I now? Where is this?"

"Berk."

When the guy just gives him a blank stare, Hiccup folds his brow. Berk's been making a name for itself since they started the whole dragon co-existence thing. Surely, this guy would have heard all the rumors about them. Thor knows, they've been suffering the consequences from all that attention.

But this guy - there's not a shred of recognition in his expression. He could be faking it. Or 'the seas left its mark', as Gothi put it. Hiccup really wants to give him the benefit of doubt here.

"Berk, one of the isles in the Barbaric Archipelago? Home to the Hairy Hooligan tribe? No? None of that sounds familiar?"

The guy wordlessly shakes his head, fear starting to twist his face. Okay. That's not ideal.

"Is that... Is that anywhere near the New World?" The guy asks, his knuckles going white as he squeezes the blankets with both hands.

Gothi makes an irritated tap of her walking stick. Hiccup ignores her.

Did this guy just say the 'New World'? But that's just an old mariner's tale. And even if it was true, it's definitely nowhere near Berk.

The look on Hiccup's face must give him away because the guy locks up, eyes going wide, limbs closing tight and stiff.

"H... How... But I was just there! The pond was right by my village! How did this happen?!"

And that, Hiccup thinks, is the real question. Either this guy is a really good actor or he really has no memory. When he starts breathing faster, clutching his chest like it hurts, Hiccup makes a decision.

Dodging Gothi's stick, which tries to keep him away, Hiccup crouches next to the bed, putting himself at eye level with their guest. "Hey, we can figure this out, okay? You'll be back with your Mom in no time. Just... Just hang in there... Uhm..."

The guy looks at him, and there's that smile again - completely out of place given that he's literally one heartbeat away from a breakdown. "Ca-Call me Jack. And you?"

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. But everyone calls me Hiccup."

#hijack #frostcup #rise of the guardians #how to train your dragon #journey to the past #jack frost #hiccup haddock

53 notes · View notes

twisted-turtels · 2 months

Text

Crossed Paths (Pt.5)

Author's note: sike i ended up finishing part 5, but i will have to take a break. this fic literally consumes my mind (not joking. i was writing some of this in my histology class). i also have some of my first exams next week so...yeah

2131 words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Crossed Paths

It’s been a week since Jordan last saw Farleigh. She’s been studying for her exams, and as much as she likes Farleigh, he’s a distraction. They have obviously texted every now and then, but they have mostly been brief exchanges. She couldn’t help but feel guilty about neglecting Farleigh, wondering if he felt the same way. Jordan hangs up her steamed uniform on her bathroom door; why do we have to wear a uniform to take an exam?

As Jordan is washing her face, she hears her phone ringing. She looks down to see Farleigh calling. With a mixture of surprise and excitement, she answers the phone.

“Hey, Farleigh,” she says excitedly.

“Hi, Jordy. What are you doing right now,” Farleigh asks.

“I was just about to hop in the shower and lay in bed,” she looks at her clock, 8 pm. It’s kind of early to go to sleep.

“Oh well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to get something to eat,” Farleigh answers, “But seeing as you’ve already showered, I can bring some food instead?”

Jordan agrees, “That would be great, honestly. I’ve been so focused on studying that I haven’t eaten much.”

“I don’t think you’ve tried the chicken shop nearby. I’ll bring us some food from there. I’ll see you in 30 minutes, yeah?” Farleigh confirms and hangs up.

Jordan puts her phone down before giggling and washing her face off.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan is sitting on the couch watching Bad Girls Club when she hears a knock on her door.

“Delivery,” a fake high-pitched voice says.

Jordan rolls her eyes before getting up and answering the door. On the other side of the door is Farleigh, standing with two bags in his hand.

“I have come with sustenance,” Farleigh says as he pushes past Jordan.

Jordan looks at him in disbelief, “Umm, excuse you,” she follows Farleigh into the apartment.

Farleigh places the food on her coffee table, “Girl, come sit down and eat this food.”

Jordan laughs at Farleigh's dramatic entrance and follows him to the couch, “Alright, I’m coming,” she says playfully before sitting next to him on the sofa.

Farleigh grins, pleased with himself. “What do we have here?” Jordan asks.

Farleigh opens the boxes of food to reveal an assortment of chicken wings, fries, and sauces.

“I got us a mix of everything,” Farleigh answers, “figured you’d want to try it all.” He looks up at the TV, “Bad Girls Club?”

“What? You’ve never watched it,” Jordan asked, mouth already stuffed with fries.

“I don’t really indulge much in American culture. I’m in England most of the time,” Farleigh explains.

Jordan nods her head in understanding, “How often do you go home?”

“Maybe twice a year, usually in the summer, I’m at Saltburn,” Farleigh mumbles.

“Saltburn,” Jordan looks at him in confusion.

Farleigh looks at her with a sly smile, “Yeah. It’s my aunt and uncle’s house, Felix and Venetia’s parents,” he puts his food down before wiping his hands with a napkin, “Do you wanna come?”

Jordan bites into a chicken wing as she gives Farleigh a side-eye. “Come where?”

“To Saltburn,” Farleigh continues.

“Am I allowed,” Jordan asks with more confusion evident in her voice.

“Of course you are. I invited you, plus Felix invites people every year, and my uncle doesn’t care,” Farleigh insists.

“I’ll think about it. I don’t want to intrude,” Jordan says nervously.

Farleigh reassures her, “I promise. You won’t. Plus, I’ll be there, as well as Felix and Venetia. It’ll be fun.”

Jordan contemplates. I have nothing else to do, “I’ll come. I’m not doing anything else this summer,” Jordan smiles reassuringly.

“Yes,” Farleigh claps his hands, “ Now that that's out the way, I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the pre-summer ball with me?”

“Don’t you only go if you pass your exams,” Jordan questions.

Farleigh rolls his eyes, “We both know you’ll pass.”

“I mean…I guess I’ll go with you,” Jordan teases.

“Who else were you gonna go with,” Farleigh sarcastically asks.

Jordan replies with a serious expression, “Oliver.”

“Be serious.”

“I am. Haven’t you seen him lately,” Jordan doubles down.

There’s a pause before Jordan laughs, “I’m kidding. I’m not going with that man,” Jordan grabs Farleigh’s hands and makes him stand up.

She looks Farleigh in his eyes, “Of course, I will go with you,” she says.

Farleigh's smile widens with Jordan’s acceptance, “Great! It’s a date then.”

Jordan grins at him excitedly, “I’m looking forward to it,” she says sincerely.

They stand there for a moment, their hands still collapsed, before Farleigh clears his throat, gesturing to the half-eaten food on the table, “We should probably finish eating.”

Jordan laughs, realizing they’ve been standing still, lost in the moment, “Right. I can tell you more about Bad Girls Club.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

Amidst the jubilant chaos, Jordan and Farleigh emerge from the exam school together, hand in hand, cheering after successfully completing their exams, their faces flushed with excitement and relief. They’re greeted by a crowd of cheering friends, and sprays of champagne and silly string land on them from the crowd. They spot Felix on the crowd's edge and rush over to him.

He greets them with a wide grin, “Congratulations, guys!” Felix yells while placing medals around their necks.

Jordan hugs Felix with a beaming smile, “Thank you, Felix!” She turns to Farleigh and pulls him into a hug, “We did it,” she exclaims, her voice beaming with pride.

They break the hug and notice Felix greeting Oliver and placing a medal around his neck. Jordan exchanges a glance with Farleigh, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in her eyes. Farleigh gently pulls her in the opposite direction, “We gotta start getting ready for the ball, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t wait until you see my dress. One of my mom’s friends is a seamstress, and she made the dress for me and sent it over just in time. It fits perfectly,” Jordan replies, her excitement evident in her voice.

“I can’t wait to see it,” Farleigh says with a smile, his eyes twinkling in anticipation. The two come to a stop, and Farleigh leans in to give Jordan a quick peck on the cheek, “I’ll see you later,” he asks. Jordan nods with a small smile before the two part ways, each filled with anticipation for the night ahead.

xxxxxxxxxxx

After parting ways with Farleigh, Jordan walks back to her apartment, her mind buzzing with excitement. As she entered her room, she was greeted with the sight of her dress hanging delicately on her closet door. She walks up to the dress and grazes her finger down it softly, taking note of the delicate lace.

The room is filled with soft music playing in the background as Jordan prepares for the evening. Her carefully selected jewelry lays on the bed, waiting as Jordan fits into her dress. As she slips into the dress, she feels a wave of confidence takes over her body.

As she takes a final look in the mirror, she takes note of how the dress accentuates her waist, how her makeup accentuates her features, and how her braids cascade down her back. With one last glance, she heads out the door, excited for the rest of her night.

xxxxxxxxxxx

As the taxi comes to a halt, Jordan gracefully exits, her purse in tow. She takes a moment to adjust her dress, her anticipation palpable in the air. With a confident stride, she approached the entrance of the venue. As she’s walking, she notices a recognizable head of hair. It’s Farleigh!

As she quickens her pace slightly, she finally approaches the tall boy. Standing on her toes, she playfully covers his eyes with her manicured hands, “Guess who,” she questions with a playful grin.

The hands grab her wrist and spin her around. Before she knows it, she’s twirling in Farleigh’s arms, a broad smile on her face as they share a moment of joy and excitement. Farleigh places her down, “You look beautiful, Jordan,” he exclaims warmly, admiration evident in his voice.

“You clean up nicely, Farleigh. Are you ready to go-” Before she could continue her sentence, she noticed Oliver standing awkwardly in front of them.

“Oh. Didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” she apologizes.

“It’s no problem-” Oliver answers before Farleigh interrupts, “I was just telling him how I like his tux.”

Jordan looks at Farleigh in confusion before agreeing, “Yeah, it is nice,” she looks Oliver up and down, “You clean up nice as well, Oliver.”

“Thank you,” Oliver answers nervously.

Farleigh straightens out Oliver's tuxedo, “It’s a rental? Right?”

“Yeah,” Oliver answers.

Farleigh grabs his wrists before showing them to Jordan, “Yeah, the sleeves are too long.”

Jordan nods her head, “It’s important to always check the sleeves, Ollie,” she teasingly chastises him.

“Always check the sleeves,” Farleigh teases, almost condescendingly, “But not bad,” he taps Oliver’s chest, “You’re almost” tap “passing.”

Farleigh grabs Jordan’s hand before starting to walk away.

Oliver questions, “For what?”

Farleigh turns around briefly, “ A real human boy.”

Jordan follows Farleigh, glancing over her shoulder at Oliver, shrugging her shoulders before pulling Farleigh into the event hall.

They enter the elegantly decorated hall. The room is filled with glittering chandeliers, soft candlelight, and vibrating floral arrangements. The sound of soft music fills the air, adding to the calming atmosphere. Farleigh squeezes her hand, a reassuring gesture that brings a smile to her face.

“Shall we sit,” Farleigh says mockingly before pulling out a chair for Jordan.

“Stop being corny,” Jordan laughs before sitting down. Farleigh waves over a waiter and takes two drinks from their tray, “Here you go, beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jordan says before taking a sip.

“Drink as much as you want, but just to warn you, we have quite a drive tomorrow,” Farleigh states.

“How long,” Jordan questions.

“Six hours,” Fairleigh says.

Jordan’s eyes widen as she almost chokes on her drink, “Six hours,” she whispers yells.

“It’s not that bad, and we won't be driving. My uncle is sending a driver for us. Including Felix and Vee.”

“Ugh,” she puts the drink down and stands up, “this ‘Saltburn’ better be worth it,” she complains. Farleigh follows her movements, “Oh, it will,” he confirms.

“Do you want to dance,” Farleigh holds his hand out. Jordan nods her head and grabs his hand.

As they walk to the dance floor, Jordan mentions, “You know I’ve never slow danced before?”

“No,” Farleigh questions, “Not even at prom,” he asks in disbelief.

Jordan shakes her head, “Nope. Didn’t go to prom. I had no one to go with.”

Farleigh couldn’t believe what she was saying. “So you’re telling me that no one wanted to go with you? That doesn't make sense.”

“It’s a lot more that goes into it,” Jordan explains.

Farleigh nods, understanding that there might be more to Jordan’s story than she’s telling. As they position themselves for the slow dance, he gently places his hands on her waist while she places her hands on his shoulders.

“Sorry if I pushed too much,” Farleigh says softly, his gaze meeting Jordan’s.

Jordan shakes her head reassuringly and smiles, “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t know.”

Jordan lays her head on his chest as they begin to sway to the music. Their movements synchronized as they lose themselves in the moment. Farleigh’s eyes focused solely on Jordan.

xxxxxxxxxxx

As the night comes to an end, Farleigh and Jordan are in a taxi back to Jordan’s apartment. They share shy smiles as they bask in the quiet but comfortable ambiance of the taxi. Jordan leans her head on Farleigh’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence beside her. Farleigh pulls her closer to his side as they share a comfortable silence, content in each other's company.

The taxi arrives at Jordan’s apartment. Jordan and Farleigh step out of the cab and walk up the steps to her apartment. They reach Jordan’s apartment door and stand in silence. Jordan speaks first, “I had a lot of fun tonight, Farleigh.”

Fareligh smiles warmly, “I’m glad I was able to make your night fun. I had a great time,” he pauses a moment before continuing, “Thanks for being my date.”

Jordan returns his smile, “Of course, Farleigh. Anytime.” She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him, “I’ll see you tomorrow. 8am?”

“Yeah, 8 am,” Farleigh confirms before turning to walk down the stairs. Jordan stands partially in her apartment before yelling, “You better be up on time!”

Farleigh laughs before turning around, “I’ll set three alarms, just to be sure!” Jordan laughs before closing her door. As she leans against the door, she can’t help but smile. Can’t wait.

#farleigh imagine #farleigh x reader #felix catton #oliver quick #saltburn imagine #venetia catton #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #saltburn

42 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 2 years

Note

I can’t stop thinking about winged reader dating hawks

Okay, let me help you with that with an image:

Reader is lying naked on Keigo's chest, the hero smiling as he strokes your hair. You're so tired, too exhausted with all that you've been put through.

Keigo, that bastard, he'd cut off your wings. After he'd caught you trying to escape, he dragged you back to his place and decided that it'd be a "good lesson" and "precaution for future" to get rid of your wings for once and for all.

He- he cut them off, using his own feather blades, which were quite sharp, but still not sharp enough for your thick wings. Which meant taking much longer to cut them off, and if you knew one thing about Keigo, it was that he wasn't a patient man.

No amount of screaming and crying stopped Keigo as he began to pull your wings from your skin with his bare hands. It was like someone was pulling the life out of you, and when you tried to flip over to escape his assault, Keigo slapped you across the face and told you to stop wriggling around, before finally sitting on your butt and continued plucking you like a chicken. Your sobs only grew louder when you felt something hard poke you down there, knowing that disgusting prick felt sick pleasure from this.

By the time he was done wounding your back and having his way with you, you'd passed out somewhere in between. When you came to, you found yourself lying on his chest and you could still feel him growing hard against your thigh.

You whimpered, both from pain and shame, and Keigo only chuckled before patting your bum, shushing you when you jumped as a finger traced your hole.

"Shhh, its okay. You're okay. You did well." He kissed the top of your head. "I've called a friend over to help me, so you better be on your best behaviour."

Help him? With what?

You heard someone knock on the bedroom door. "Come in!" Keigo said, a little too cheerfully.

You could only crane your neck to the side as you recognised the man who'd walked in. Dabi- it was that notorious villain you'd seen on TV, and heard Keigo talk fondly of.

Oh god. He's not here to fuck-

"Dabi! You're just in time!" Keigo smiled, puckering his lips as Dabi kissed him, pulling away to look at you. You cowered under his gaze.

"This her?" Dabi asked, and you could feel him judging you.

Keigo nodded. "Yeah! Ain't she pretty?"

"She's alright. Seen better. Fucked better." Dabi said. "How do you wanna do this?"

Keigo hummed. "We can start now. She's up from her nap, so well rested." And with that, Keigo tightened his limbs around you, his muscular legs trapping yours and his arms coiled a little too painfully around your shoulders.

You began hyperventilating as you felt Dabi creep up behind you, before settling himself on your thighs.

"Keigo- please- I'm sorry- I've learnt my lesson! I won't run away again! Please, don't let him rap-"

Your words died down as both men laughed. Dabi grabbed your chin, turning it to the side. He leant down to whisper "Doll, I wouldn't fuck you like this. Unlike your hero, I prefer my bitches to beg."

Keigo gasped, offended. "You thought I was gonna let him fuck you? Nuh uh! You're all for me, and well maybe if Dabi does his job well, he can have a little fun with you, but you're mine otherwise!" Keigo said before grabbing your face and kissing you sloppily. "Now stay still and let Dabi complete your punishment."

Wait what? Its not finished yet?!

You began struggling under Dabi. "What are you saying?! You've already plucked out my wings!"

"Yeah! But they'll just grow back if we don't cauterize the base!" Keigo stated in a matter of fact tone.

Cauterize? Does... does he plan on burning my tissues?!

"Wait-!" But Dabi shoved your face back into Keigo's chest, holding it there with one hand as he heated up his other.

"Quiet now, doll. You're already distracting me with your cute ass wiggling around, don't need you yapping around as I take care of your back."

And with that, Dabi put his heated hand against your right wing base, and you now knew what the phrase "white, hot, searing pain" meant.

#yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi

426 notes · View notes

drpeppertummy · 9 months

Text

fantasizing about winter,,,,,,,,,

[stuffing, tummy rubs]

Val sneezed. It was a sound Connie had grown very accustomed to over the past month or two, and it wasn't going away anytime soon. Winters were hard on her poor old demon. Demon never seemed like the right word to use--he looked like an ordinary man, and a very sweet one at that--but she wasn't sure what else to call him. He'd been born and raised in hell, his big dark eyes glinted red in the sunlight, and he had huge leathery wings that he could unfurl and hide away at will. All of these things he could hide, but the one thing he couldn't mask was his cold tolerance. His healthy body temperature was well over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. It made him perfect to cuddle with on a chilly night, but it also meant cooler weather was absolutely miserable for him. It wasn't unusual for him to have a cold lasting from October to April, and the dead of winter was nearly incapacitating.

It was January now, and as much as Val tried to avoid the freezing outdoors, there were times when it was inevitable. It had been an exceptionally harsh winter so far. The sun seemed to have checked out for the season, and each day was cold, damp, and gloomy. Snow was piled high outside, never having a chance to melt between storms. Wind seemed to be constantly whistling through the trees, and the old house creaked as it braced itself against the strong gusts. Connie typically didn't mind the cold, but this winter was a bit much even for her. For Val, it was brutal. Even inside he remained bundled up, often keeping a blanket wrapped around himself as he moved about the house. He'd been spending this particular night curled up against the arm of the couch, sniffling and dozing off.

Ordinarily, Connie would be accompanying her shivering partner on the couch, enjoying his warmth and trying to provide some of her own, but tonight she was in the kitchen. She'd never been much of a cook; Val and his love for the kitchen had been a godsend (devilsend?) for her and Calvin. Tonight, though, she wanted to try her hand at a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup. Their leftovers from earlier that week were nearly finished, and, looking at Val sniffling away under his blanket, she decided he needed a break from cooking. A bowl of hot soup would do them all well.

Although cooking wasn't Connie's strong suit, the soup didn't prove much of a challenge. She'd followed a simple but effective recipe that a friend had given her ages ago. The result was a creamy, fragrant soup simmering away in the largest pot they owned. She covered the pot, feeling pleased with herself. The soup looked restaurant-worthy, and she hadn't even left much of a mess to clean up. As the timer ticked along, she quietly washed the cutting board and the few knives she'd used, then wiped off the counter. She peered around the doorway as she dried the cutting board. Val was fast asleep now, slumped against the arm of the couch and snoring softly. Connie glanced at the timer. It would be another ten minutes before she could shred the chicken and add the noodles.

Ten minutes had come and gone, and the soup was nearly ready. Connie sat down beside Val. She hated to wake him; he looked so sweet and cozy, and he surely could use the rest. Still, he needed to eat. Gently, she nudged his shoulder.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she said softly, brushing her fingers against his cheek. Val yawned and sleepily took her hand.

"What time is it?"

"Almost seven."

"Shoot," he mumbled. He stretched his arms above his head, and his joints crackled softly as he shifted. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." He pushed himself upright, yawning. He should have looked well-rested, but his hair was a mess, his clothes were disheveled, and the texture of the couch upholstery was imprinted on his cheek.

"Oh, your hair looks nice," giggled Connie.

"Yeah?" Val ran his hands through his hair, attempting to smooth it out. "How about now?"

"Not as cute," she teased, tousling his hair. He smiled and planted a kiss on her cheek. As he did, the timer beeped. "Think you can stay awake long enough to have some dinner?"

"Is that what that is? It smells good."

"Looks good, too. Hopefully it tastes good," said Connie.

Calvin and Mona were both staying at their friends' houses that night, leaving the two of them alone. Rather than sit at the table as they would with the whole family, they opted to eat on the couch, a blanket draped over their shoulders. The soup had come out even better than Connie hoped. She'd thrown in a few extra cans of vegetables--peas, carrots, corn, green beans--along with diced potatoes, tender shredded chicken, and far more egg noodles than the recipe called for. The broth was creamy and flavorful but not too rich, and the heat radiating from the bowls was comforting.

"You always say you can't cook, but this is great," said Val.

"Isn't it? It's Elaine's recipe."

"You definitely did it justice." Val was going through his soup much more quickly than Connie. While his cold tolerance was miserable, heat didn't bother him in the slightest. Before long, his bowl was empty and his belly was full.

"Have a little more," Connie suggested. She blew gently on her spoon. Her bowl was still half full.

"Y'know, I might," said Val. He didn't often go back for seconds, but the hot soup was a great comfort against the cold, and he wanted to show his appreciation for Connie's cooking. As he stood up, the feeling of fullness in his stomach became more apparent. He almost reconsidered the second bowl, but it was too enticing to pass up. He ladled himself another serving and returned to Connie's side. Rather than hunch over the coffee table as he did with the first bowl, he sat back against the couch this time to give his belly some space, holding the bowl in his lap.

As Val worked on his second bowl, he began to regret the decision to get seconds. He was already full, and as he ate his stomach grew tighter and more uncomfortable. He sighed and rested a hand on his rounded belly. Connie, finishing up her soup, turned to look at him. Her eyes dropped down to his bloated middle.

"Sheesh, Val, when I said 'have some more,' it was a suggestion, not an order," she chuckled. "Don't go making yourself sick over there."

"Hey, your cooking's just that good," he said, smiling at her. "I might have to quit, though. I don't think I can fit the rest of this."

"I'll say. That tummy looks like it can't take another bite." She gave his belly a firm pat. It sloshed quietly in response. Normally Val's belly was flat and a little bit soft, but after almost two big bowls of soup, it was round and solid, with little give left to it.

"Do you want the rest of this?" He offered her his bowl, which was nearly empty.

"Nah, we'll just throw it back in the pot," she said. "Nobody needs to know."

The two of them cleaned up after themselves and put the rest of the soup away. Some of it went in the freezer; the rest would easily last another week. With a soft grunt, Val dropped himself back onto the couch.

"Oof, I'm stuffed," he sighed, resting his hands on his stomach. He was wearing a heavy oversized flannel over a heavy oversized sweater, but the bump of his bulging tummy was visible even under his form-concealing outfit. Connie sat down beside him and pulled the blanket back around them both. She leaned against Val and slipped her arms around him, idly rubbing his belly. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they sat for a while, quiet apart from the gentle gurgles of his overstuffed stomach.

Connie was beginning to doze off, lulled into drowsiness by Val's warmth, when she suddenly felt him perk up. She looked up, covering a yawn. He looked like he was thinking.

"Hey, how's some hot chocolate sound?" he asked. Connie laughed.

"How can you possibly have any room left for hot chocolate? Your tummy feels like it's about to pop!"

"Aw, come on, there's always room for a little dessert," he grinned.

"Well, you do make some damn good hot chocolate," said Connie. "Alright, I'm on board." Val rose from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. Connie remained on the couch. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. Val had an irresistible sweet tooth, and nothing was going to keep him from indulging it. She wasn't about to complain, though. Nothing compared with Val's hot chocolate. Before she met him, she was never much of a hot chocolate person. Her recipe involved Swiss Miss and a microwave, and not much else. Then Val came along, and her tastes were spoiled for life. He made it on the stove, with milk and cream and real chopped chocolate and all sorts of other little additives that made for a wonderfully rich, sweet dessert. She wouldn't even classify it as a beverage; it was right up there alongside chocolate cake in her mind.

Finally Val returned from the kitchen, a mug in each hand. He delivered one to Connie, then sat down with his own. His belly sloshed softly as he did. She glanced skeptically down at his stomach.

"Are you sure you have room?"

"Sure I'm sure," he said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. His stomach let out a gurgle of protest, but he didn't seem troubled by it. Connie raised an eyebrow at him, then turned her attention to her own mug. She didn't believe for a second that he wasn't still stuffed, but she supposed he'd at least have the sense to stop before he made himself sick. Or exploded. He had, after all, had the sense to give up on the soup.

As Val slowly enjoyed his hot chocolate, he wondered if making it had been a good idea at all. Connie was right--he didn't have room, and his stomach was reaching its limit. It couldn't stretch any further at this point, and was now just growing tighter and tighter with each swallow. In addition to that, the thick, heavy drink was a bit too rich for his already overstuffed belly. Sighing, he lowered his mug, resting it atop his leg, and placed a tentative hand on his stomach.

"Holy crap, Val," said Connie, looking down at his distended belly. "I don't want to say I told you so, but I think I can say I told you so."

"Yeah, you did," he groaned, setting his mug on the table. He looked down and was surprised to see his stomach bulging out very noticeably. "I may have overdone it a little."

"I'll say." She carefully placed her hand on his belly. It was tight as a drum.

"Worth it, though," he said, flashing a tired grin at her.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #xvalx #xconniex #this is my longest one yet yipeeeee

49 notes · View notes

shankss-magnificent-ass · 2 years

Text

How Zoan users would react to their kids wearing a onesie of their animal part 1

This will be pure fluff, so I have to gut some of the characters' canon personalities.

Kaido

The toddler ran into the banquet hall, nearly tripping over the tail of his onesie. He cried out for Kaido, who sat at the opposite end of the hall talking to King and Jack. Kaido looked over his shoulder at the boy and snorted when he saw the little blue dragon onesie that looked like his zoan form. The toddler leaped at Kaido, who caught him in his arms.

"fucking hell kid, what were you thinking. You could have gotten hurt," Kaido scolded.

The boy clung to his father's hand and mumbled, "no, I knew you'd catch me."

Kaido rolled his eyes and stared at his son's face poking out from the jaws of the dragon onesie. The boy's black hair stuck out in places, and his yellows eyes stared up at his father in wonder. Kaido was annoyed with the boy for interrupting his meeting. He also found the boy to be naive for trusting him to be foolish, but he was too cute to be mad at. So Kaido shook his head and huffed, " do you need something?"

The toddler reared up growled, "I'm a dragon! roar!" and proceeded to sink his teeth into the meaty part of Kaido's palm.

Kaido sighed, "what did we say about biting, ya little brat. You wanna fly here you go." He proceeded to form a trail of fire clouds for the toddler to float on.

As the toddler laughed and made a rachet as he flew around, Kaido returned to his conversation. However, the three men keep a close eye on the toddler.

King

King walked in the door to his chambers after a long day of work. He heard you in the other room sweeping the floor King called out, "Hey honey."

"Oh, King welcome home." You called back.

"where's our little one?" King asked, looking around for your child.

You sighed, "she's sulking in the other room, she has been waiting to see you."

King walked into the living room he started to strip off his jacket King noticed his daughter sitting in the corner. She was flipping through the picture book of dinosaurs he had gifted to her on her birthday. He noticed that her eyes were filled with tears, making him concerned and intrigued. King tossed his coat on a chair as he made his way over to the four-year-old and sat down on the floor next to her. He took off his mask and looked over at her and said, "Is everything alright?"

She looked up at him and whimpered, "it's not like in the picture." She held up the book ad pointed at the illustration of a pteranodon.

King cocked his head and murmured, "I don't follow, what's not like the picture?"

The toddler stood up and held out her arms to show off her onesie to her father. She declared, "it's not right, they put holes for my wings so my pteranodon now has two sets of wings."

King gave her a flat stare, "but without the holes, your wings would be uncomfortably squished inside the jumpsuit."

"it's not a jumpsuit papa, it's a onesie. Couldn't they just go in the arm tubes?" She complained, exasperated with him.

King chuckled, "no, they wouldn't fit, at least not with your flight feathers. Why does it have to be perfect?"

"because your pteranodon form doesn't have two sets of wings!" She exclaimed stomping her foot, "it has to be exactly the same."

King smiled realizing she wanted to be more like him. He scooped her up and put her on his shoulders. As King stood up he said, "well little one, I'm sorry the onesie isn't perfect. But you know what, I'll tell Kaido-sama that you are interested in having an accident Zoan fruit as long as it's similar to a pteranodon."

The little girl wrapped her arms around the top of his head and pouted, "alright, but I don't want to have to wait too long."

King carried her into the room where you were and said, "I can't guarantee when you'll get it, but in the meantime how about we go get something to eat from the kitchens? Would that make you feel better?"

You piped in, "We can get dinosaur chicken nuggets, your favorite."

The little girl pressed her cheek against the top of King's head and grumbled, " that would make me feel a little better, but what would make me feel even better would be some cookies." She looked up and gave you her best puppy dog eyes.

King laughed, " of course, anything you want."

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #kaido x reader #one piece kaido #king one piece #king the wildfire #one piece king #king the conflagration #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #6/24/22 #no beta we die like men

374 notes · View notes

lizzie-is-here · 1 year

Text

like the dawn

part xx- until the end of the line

“i knew i did from that first moment we met. it was… not love at first sight exactly, but familiarity. like: oh, hello, it’s you. it’s going to be you.” - mhairi mcfarlane

summary: 78 years later, you, steve, and bucky get your fairytail ending

wordcount: 1k

warnings: slight angst, cussing

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsprashimusic @yourfavunsub

a/n: i’m so so sad to see this series go 😭 but i’ve really loved it fr and i’m excited to see where to go next. i’m not sure if i want to start another series or kinda just do some one shots or re-open requests, but ig we’ll see where it goes. love you all so, so much, and thank you for reading. i hope you enjoy 🫶

previous part | series masterlist

“Is that everything?”

Steve nods as he sets the last box on the counter.

It’s only been a few months since everyone came back, but you all decided to move back to New York to be closer to everyone. Back to Brooklyn, precisely.

Natasha’s funeral was small. Quiet and personal on the lake at Tony’s cabin. A statue for her was being made, and would eventually sit a block or two from the tower.

Her absence was always noticeable, but everyone was slowly coming to grips with it. She would hate to see anyone wallowing.

You’d given your Romanian cottage to Wanda, who’d been intent on working on the grief of losing Vision. She called every now and then, showing you your healthy chickens and garden that thrived under her care.

Now, with Steve’s recent retirement and a bit of cash from the government as compensation, you all bought a large apartment back home.

Two arms, one metal and one skin, wrap around your waist. Bucky rests his head in between your wings and sighs.

“Don’t wanna unpack yet,” he mumbles. You laugh, turning around to kiss him before grabbing a box.

“C’mon. The faster we get done, the faster you can see your surprise.”

Both of your boys’ heads perked up at that. You had been hinting at it for weeks, but refused to tell them.

It had been a guessing game for a while now. A pet, another road trip, a shitty musical on Steve’s life? (That last one was true, much to your disdain.)

The one thing they hadn’t guessed was the small box tucked in the flowerbed full of phlox on your balcony.

“You never keep secrets,” Steve says as he starts hanging up clothes in the large closet. “Shocked you managed to keep this one.”

You gasp in fake indignation. “Steven Grant Rogers! How could you?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Buck chimes in. “So inconsiderate.”

The blond rolls his eyes and kisses your forehead before grabbing a new box of clothes.

“I’m sorry, you are so very good at keeping secrets,” he grins.

Unpacking moves quickly from there, the three of you working efficiently as the sun starts sinking in the sky.

By the time you’re done, it’s 6:00. Stark’s throwing a party at 6:30, and he’ll throw a fit if you’re late.

He still bitches a bit when you make it at 6:15.

Most everyone’s there, smiling and filling each other in on the past months’ events.

Tony’s little girl is running around, Peter trailing close after her to make sure she doesn’t trip. Shuri and Bruce are in a heated yet friendly debate over AI, exchanging words that you don’t recognize, and from the look of T’Challa, who stands nearby, he doesn’t either.

Sam’s standing with your boys, annoying Bucky as Steve mediates. The new group, the “Guardians of the Galaxy” has huddled around Stephen Strange as the grumbling doctor creates various portals.

Everyone else is scattered about, drinking and enjoying each others’ company.

“Stark,” you greet at the presence behind you.

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” he asks. You hum, glancing over at his new prosthetic. “How’s it been with the grandpas?”

“It’s been nice,” you admit. “Finished getting everything moved in today.” He nods, pretending to think for a moment before launching the question that brought him over in the first place.

“Soooo… Any upcoming fancy events we need to know about?”

You raise an eyebrow, not taking the bait. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know.” Stark waves a dismissive hand. “Two suits for them, a nice dress for you. White is really your color by the way. Plus, maybe it could have a nice cake at it. A few dances, nothing special.”

When you only deadpan at him, he continues.

“It could start with ‘W’ and end in ‘edding’-“

“Alright, maybe!” you finally say. “I haven’t given them the rings yet.”

Tony balks. “Seriously? Of all the people I expected to be nervous about proposing, it wouldn’t be you.”

You frown. “Why?”

“Listen, the three of you are madly in love. Anyone who’s anyone could tell you that, if any of us were made for each other, it’s you three.” He silently gags at his words, as if disgusted by the sappiness. “I hate it, but I’m right.”

He sips his (Morgan’s) sparkling grape juice. “Speak of the devils.”

You look up as your boys approach.

“Hey doll,” Bucky smiles before pressing a kiss to your hand. “Miss us?”

“Please,” Tony holds up a hand. “Spare me.”

He whisks away after his daughter, but not before nodding to you with a very obvious wink.

Maybe he’s right.

———————————————————————

That night, as soon as you get home, your boys are pestering you for the surprise.

“Fine, fine,” you concede, opening the doors to the balcony. “Go sit down on the couch.”

When you present the small box, you can hear both of their heart rates quicken.

“Um, the last five years, I had a lot of time to think,” you begin. “It was horrible, being alone. Sure, not everyone was gone, but you two were, and every morning I’d wake up and-“ You pause to swallow the tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky whispers. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, doll.”

You sit in between them, wings getting squished a bit on the plush couch.

You give a firm nod, pressing forward. “Anyways, when we were going back in time for the Stones, they had me do a test run.”

“Where’d you go?” Steve asks.

A pause. “I went back to our apartment. Before the war. And I grabbed this.”

You open the box, where three gold bands lie.

“They’re…“

“My parents’,” you cut the brunet off. “My dad always promised my mom he’d resize and put a diamond on her wedding band when he had enough money, but… he never got around to it.”

Steve and Bucky each lift a band, with you doing the same.

“D’you want a traditional proposal?” Steve jokes. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Nothing about us is traditional,” you reply.

All three of you wordlessly slip on the rings, before Bucky pipes up from your left with both pinkies extended.

“‘Til the end of the line?”

You and Steve respond in kind.

“Until the end of the line.”

73 notes · View notes

beerecordings · 2 months

Text

The Other Monster - Part 2

Previous Chapter l Next Chapter

Marvin is handed over to his captor. JJ helps with an errand. Anti doesn't want to talk about things. He wouldn't know how to if he tried. Unfortunately, his little brother has questions.

Warnings for ongoing themes of human trafficking and sexual abuse (not on-screen), as well as imprisonment and dissociation.

The walls of this prison, Marvin finds, are different from the last one.

“Shall I bring you something to eat?” asks the girl who escorted him here, raking her eyes down him just once before looking him in the eye.

He blinks. “What?”

“Shall I bring you something to eat?” she repeats.

He glances around him, the fire flickering over his face. The warmth is an old friend, one he thought he lost the memory of. The room is stone, but clean, with tapestries and a wide rug pinned beneath the bed. His bare feet dig into it.

“Where are we?” he asks her. She turns away from him slightly, frowning. “The keep.”

“Whose keep?”

“Your new lord's.”

He stares at her blankly. She puts her hand on the door.

“I'll bring you some dinner.”

Marvin sits down heavily on the bed. It's soft against his palm, which opens over its surface as though not quite sure what it is sensing.

He wasn't there for his own purchasing. One day, he was sitting on his cold bench in his cell room, half-naked and hungry, and then, perhaps an eternity later, he was... here.

How far from home, he does not know.

The serving girl brings him a tray filled with so much good food it makes his head swim for a second. She waits by the door for a long while, but he doesn't touch it until she's gone. If she's gone, after all, she can't take it away from him. Soft brown rolls with butter – the leg and wing of a chicken falling tenderly from its bones – potatoes and carrots –

He's going to make himself sick. He shoves the tray away for a moment, remembering to breathe, chewing carefully through the mass in his mouth. The grease on his fingers is a fine dessert until he hears the door open again.

After that day, he never forgets the eyes that look at him again.

“Darling,” says the man, closing the door behind him. Marvin would flinch at the noise if he wasn't paralyzed against the headboard, holding his knees to his chest. “I'm so glad you're here.”

I don't know you, Marvin thinks, but he doesn't say it. Don't call me darling.

Maybe he expected some ugly old man, and to be sure he's seen buyers like it coming through to look at him and the other Monsters. But this is a young man, only older than him by perhaps ten years, and not unattractive. He smiles at Marvin broadly.

It's more unnerving than any snarling old slave-driver who could have come towards him.

"You are so very beautiful," says the man. "Prettier still than when I first saw you."

Marvin's gut turns over. When did he see him? When he was sleeping in his cell? Did he come through and stare at him?

"But so pale," he adds. "Did they treat you badly?"

He comes to sit beside him on the bed. Marvin feels so stiff he doesn't think he could even move his eyes if he tried - until the man touches his face.

Marvin lunges with his teeth and his captor yanks his hand back, laughing aloud. "Oh, they told me you weren't quite broken in!"

Marvin's had enough of this. He shoves himself off the bed and rushes at the door, but the man has him around the waist a second later, lifting him fully off the ground. Marvin howls and strikes at him, trying to flail loose, but he's thrown onto a plush fur behind the bed, and the man stands between him and escape.

"We'll have fun together, you and I," he says, his voice louder now, booming, and Marvin shoves himself into the corner, panting. "Don't you worry about that. I'll try you right, my Monster, but you be careful of yourself. You never know who else around this castle might want a bite of you in return."

"Leave me alone," Marvin screams at him. "Try and touch me and I'll cut your fucking dick off!"

Another huge laugh, overwhelming, like it's grating against something inside him. "That's alright, lovely, there won't be any touching tonight. You're just here to get comfortable. You'll have everything you need, Fabian. You'll get used to this, soon, and then won't we enjoy each other?"

"Go fuck yourself," Marvin snarls.

"Get some rest. I'll leave you be. You'll find out soon, my Monster... there are a lot worse men than me in the world."

He expects him to be grateful. Marvin feels like he's been punched.

The man leaves and the door closes behind him. Locks behind him.

His stomach starts to ache, and he pulls up his shirt to find his skin yellowing in the place where the man got his arm around him and threw him into the corner, like a little dog trying to get out of its kennel.

He stares around him. The walls are all stone, and he's cold again despite the fire.

Marvin buries his face in his knees and promises himself he won't cry.

"Please come get me, Jackie," he whispers. "Please find me. I'm running out of time."

Jameson had thought that when Anti said 'girl,' he meant they would go get someone his age.

He still remembers how Anti saved him, when he was just little. Anti slipped into his closet and waited for Jameson to be tucked in and left alone before he opened the door. Jameson knows, now, that he should have been scared, but he doesn't think he was. He doesn't remember exactly what Anti said, but he knows he saw the bruising on Jameson's body, and he knows he picked him up tenderly and took him home. No one has hit him since.

And nobody ever will again, Anti tells him sometimes.

But the girl that runs towards him as he waits by a farrier's stable must be at least seventeen, probably even older. His face gets a little hot. The only times he sees teenage girls are when they ride through the meadow near the keep. Some of them even wave at him.

This one seems a little more distracted.

She's panting by the time she gets over to him, and she only sees him when he's a meter away, looking at him in surprise. “When he said a boy was waiting for me, I didn't think he meant an actual child.”

Well, touche.

Any further conversation (or the lack thereof) is cut off by a strangled scream from the house down the hill. The girl whips around in alarm, but JJ just peers over the window, waiting for Anti to appear. It's true, he doesn't like to see him kill, but now that he's here, it feels even worse to know that his brother's in trouble without him.

“Will he actually kill all of them?” asks the girl.

Jameson glances back over his shoulder and gives her a thumbs up.

“Well, then,” she says. She looks faintly ill, but her voice doesn't waver. “They deserve it. Done worse things to others than they did to me.”

Jameson doesn't think it would be polite for him to speculate. She looks thinned out, though, something hollow in her face. He reaches out to fetch her a packed honey cake from inside White Horse's bag and hands it to her.

“Wow, thanks, darling.”

His face flames. He's not sure he's ever had a real girl call him darling. His nanny didn't count.

“Hey, I'm here. We're going. Now.”

The girl sticks the cake in her mouth as Anti pushes into the darkened stables, grabbing White Bird's reigns. Jameson swallows and wonders if he should get him a honey cake too.

It's not the first time he's seen his brother like this: covered in blood and shuddering in rage. It always scares him, though. He doesn't move from his place by the window, looking at Anti with big eyes. At his side, he thinks the older girl is doing the same.

"They're gone," says Anti, rough through his mask and rough with his hatred. "Get up."

Jameson gets up and the girl comes with him.

"You have anyone to go home to?" Anti asks.

"I'll give you one guess."

Anti laughs darkly. "Come on. There's a convent up the street."

"Yeah, I'll fit right in with the nuns."

"They'll feed you and give you somewhere safe to sleep."

She crosses her arms over her chest. Jamie wonders if she's cold without a cloak. "Look, I have someone out in Serenis, but we've never been able to afford the fare. That's how I... ended up here."

Anti stares at her for a long moment. Jameson can almost feel him thinking.

"Someone who won't hurt you?" he asks.

"Yes," she says, perhaps a little too quickly. But she says it, and Anti nods slowly.

"Okay," he says. "Fine."

He reaches into White Bird's bag and pulls out a cloth bag heavy with coin. When he turns it over to her and she looks inside, JJ hears her suck in a tiny breath of astonishment. Her gaze turns up to Anti, steely.

"And in exchange?"

"Just get out of here. I assume you can get around with that much money without being robbed. Or do you need a babysitter?"

"I can handle it just fine," she says, tenderly tucking up the bundle as Jameson stands on his toes to try and look inside.

"Use it however you want, I don't care," says Anti. "But don't be looking for favors from men like that if you can help it. I mean, your body, fine, but..."

He gestures back to the house. "It always ends up like that, doesn't it?"

"As if you'd know," she says lowly.

In a flash, Anti has her shoved back against the wall, and Jameson lets out half a croak, as much of a vocalization as he can make, grabbing Anti's shirt to try and pull him back. Anti's bloodied face is inches from hers, his eyes cutting through the black fabric that hides the rest of him, and she gasps and closes her eyes, pinned against the side of the stable.

"Maybe I would," Anti hisses.

He slides a knife from his sleeve and Jameson reaches up to grab his hand - but Anti just turns the handle towards the girl, an offering. He pulls away and she rubs her throat. Jameson swallows back the burn of tears, hiding against Anti's side.

"Get out of here," says Anti. "You know your options."

"Anti, wait," Jameson protests, tugging his attention back to him. "If she needs somewhere to stay, she can come to the servant's quarters for a night. You can have someone you trust sail her home!"

Anti scowls and signs to him in return. "You want her to know where we live?"

"Why not? She wouldn't hurt us!"

"You don't know that. You don't know what she might find out. Who she might tell. And anyone I know to take her by boat is less trustworthy than whatever captain she might pay to take her."

"We should take care of her, she's all alone."

But Anti's shaking his head, offering the knife out again. "Get out of here," he repeats.

She doesn't question him. Takes the knife and the bundles and puts them in that worn leather bag. Jameson wonders if she has anything inside. It looks so light. What was precious to her inside that house? She looks down at him and clucks his chin in a way that makes him think of his mom, for a moment. "Bye," she says to him, and she takes off down the road.

"Get up here," says Anti, gesturing at White Bird, before Jameson can get out any questions. His brother reaches down to hoist him up onto the horse.

"Anti?" he signs.

Anti shakes his head and puts his arms around him, taking White Bird's reigns. "Hold on tight. We'll talk at home. We've lingered too long already."

He takes off in a rush, and White Bird seems all too happy to comply, storming into the quiet streets. They're out into the countryside again in a flash, heading back towards the keep, several minutes from the city. Jameson glances up at Anti, looking at the blood on his mask and the flint in his eyes, but Anti doesn't look down at him. He isn't doing his looking-at-nothing thing. Instead he seems to be looking out keenly at every blade of grass and leaf on the air around them. Jameson puts his fingers in White Bird's mane, and Anti wraps an arm firmly around his stomach. He wonders if his brother felt his need for security. Sometimes, Jameson thinks he senses what Anti needs. Maybe that's something people can do when they love each other.

He just wonders if Anti loves anybody but him. When he was a little boy, he liked being the center of all Anti's attention. He even liked that no one else seemed to like Anti either, and how it made him feel special, wanted, needed. But now that he's older, it sits in his stomach in a heavy sort of way.

"You're even mean to people we're rescuing," signs Jameson, as Anti reaches up to pull him down from White Bird, back in their own stables.

"You're right."

Unapologetic. Not that Anti ever apologizes for anything.

"Well, I'm saying you're not supposed to be," Jamie insists, following Anti around White Bird as he starts to take off her tack. "Who was she? Why did we go get her?"

"It was adult stuff," Anti says flatly. "Don't worry about it."

"You brought me along, though, so I get to worry," he insists. Anti just hums. "How do you even make money like that? You don't do so many assassin jobs anymore."

"My merchandise."

"Which is what?"

"A kind of medicine."

"So it's expensive medicine?"

"Sure, your highness. It's expensive medicine."

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm five anymore."

"I'm talking to you like you're ten."

He doesn't like it when Anti's irritable, but this flat dismissal is almost worse. Jameson scowls and steps firmly in front of him as Anti goes to hang up Bird's saddle.

"Why couldn't she have come and stayed here a couple nights?"

"No one needs to come here," Anti all but spits. "You know why we have to hide."

"That's just it, though, Anti, I don't!" Jameson signs sharply. Anti snarls.

"If somebody found out about me, you know they would - "

"They would what?"

Anti sets down the saddle and stares at him in astonishment. He's certainly cut through his apathy.

"You've always told me how dangerous everybody else is," Jameson says. "But why? Why even a girl with every reason to be grateful to us? She needed help, not money. Won't she be unsafe all over again? Why was she even being held prisoner? Why do we have to shut everybody else out? What would they do to you if they knew you were a Monster?"

It feels like a relief, letting all the questions go at once, dropping them like rocks into the river. He's thought about the girl all night, but he's been wondering about Anti far longer. When he was a kid, the vague understanding that someone would hurt Anti or take him prisoner was all he needed to know. But why? And why will Anti never explain it?

Long seconds have passed and Anti's still just looking at him. Jameson shifts in place, some of the triumph giving way to uncertainty.

"Anti?" he signs. "What would they do?"

His brother straightens up, looking out at the door behind them instead. He doesn't speak.

"Anti." Jameson reaches out to touch his hand, and Anti yanks it back. Jameson pulls it to his chest, blinking.

Anti settles his hand against White Bird, and Jameson hears him draw in one deep breath, two, three.

“You don't know anything about anything,” Anti whispers – hisses – voice cutting like a blade. “You don't know anything about anything.”

Jameson swallows. “You won't tell my anything.”

Anti gets a knife out of his belt and throws it at the wall, embedding it down to the hilt. Jameson sucks in a sharp breath, eyes flinching closed for a second, and Anti clutches his hand into a fist, staring at the wall. He grips at White Bird's mane and seems to struggle to breathe.

"Go up to bed," he says finally.

Jameson squeezes at his shirt for a second, heart fluttering nervously.

"I said go up to bed."

"Come with me."

"I have to take care of White Bird."

His voice is so raw. Flayed.

"I want to stay with you."

"Go up to bed."

"I didn't mean to make you mad, Anti. I'm really sorry."

And Anti does it again. He looks at him and then right through him. At something else. He's faraway.

"Go up to bed," he says one more time.

"Okay," signs Jameson, but he doesn't. He doesn't move at all. Anti turns away from him and finishes untacking White Bird, fills up her trough and brushes her neck for a few minutes, moving like a tree learning to walk. Then he just stands beside her, his hand on her throat, breathing.

"They would..." He starts, but he never finishes. "They would all..."

Jameson tries to touch his hand again. His fingers are limp.

"Anti?" he signs.

Anti doesn't move.

"We can go up to bed now."

"I'm not trying to scare you," says Anti suddenly, voice disjointed. "I'm not..."

"I'm not scared," Jameson lies. Slowly, he moves forward to wrap himself around Anti's waist. When his brother doesn't react, he presses his face into his stomach, holding himself there and refusing to cry.

Anti's hands lower and touch his shoulders. After a moment, he leans down to squeeze him against his body.

"Sorry," Jameson signs against his back.

Anti lets out a shaky breath. "I'm not mad. I'm... I'm just..."

Jameson tries to grasp at that feeling, because he thinks he can sense it, a little. Something wispy and sorrowful. Red and hurting. He can get a taste of it on his tongue, sort of. It makes his eyes burn.

Anti leans down to pick him up. Lately he's been finding it embarrassing that he's still small enough for Anti to carry him, but right now, it's all he wants.

"I'm sorry if I brought you along to something too scary," Anti murmurs. His voice is more steady as he picks him off the ground. "Let's go home."

Anti carries him up to the keep. Jameson rubs his back and clings closely to his neck.

He just wishes he had learned enough to stop him from wanting to ask again. But maybe he just has to accept this. He'll never figure it out, and Anti will always be... not mad, just... scared?

He hugs his brother tighter, and Anti pets his hair.

#graceling au #bee writes

8 notes · View notes

streaminn · 11 months

Note

Enid really wished she'd just stayed home with her newly appointed mothers, but this was their "make-up" date, and she couldn't miss that! Not after everything that happened.

("If she breaks your heart I'll eat hers!" Yoko called out as she saw Enid off.

"YOKO!"

"That's mom to you, Enid!")

She's happy for this date, it's just...

Wednesday isn't good with mortals?

She is, quite frankly, awful at planning mortal things like courtship.

"I swear on my name, Enid, this will be an exquisite date."

"I don't doubt that, Willa." Enid kicks a rock into a ditch as they walk across a fallen log. Wednesday is leading them to a area she'd found.

"I'm just mildly worried you're gonna end up feeding me undercooked chicken and killing me, is all." She follows behind Wednesday, ducking under tree branches and a particularly plump crow that flies overhead. She's certain Wednesday somehow made it go after her.

Wednesday huff, "I'll have you know: I've been taking cooking lessons from Divina. She's an excellent cook, no?" She turns suddenly, "Besides, she helped me make this," she lifts up a container, "specifically so I wouldn't poison you."

"Y'know what? Fair."

Wednesday turns another corner, then another, and then another. All to the right.

"Weds, we're gonna go in a circle at this rate. Are you sure you know where we're goin'?" Enid does smack headfirst into a thick branch this time. "Ow!" She rubs her head, checking her hand for blood.

"You deserved that."

"I—" Enid blinks and sees that Wednesday is far ahead of her. "—Hey! Wait for me!"

When she manages to catch up, she's panting. "You're fast for someone with such small legs—" she's stop when Wednesday firmly places her arm in front of Enid, hitting her in the stomach. "Ow! First a tree, now my lover. I just keep getting hit!"

"I didn't hit you, firstly," Wednesday says, turning another corner, to the left this time. "And secondly, we're here." Enid blinks.

"Why are the trees dead?" She whispers, leaning down to grip Wednesday's shoulders in fear. "Why is the sky black?"

"Calm down, Dear." Wednesday takes her hands, turns around and presses a kiss to her lips. She almost falls with how relaxed her muscles get. "We're in my realm."

She gives a dopey grin. "Okay." She whispers.

She looks around at the black sky and black, dead trees and black stone and rivers of black water.

"Awful lot of black. Did'ya make that happen, or is it a form-follows-function kinda deal? All the rotting... bodies? Made your sky black?"

Wednesday clicks her tongue in reprimand, "that isn't at all how that works, Enid." She leads Enid up a hill.

"Well! I'm dumb, okay?! What do you want from me?" She leads the werewolf through a brush of trees and into a cave.

"Love?" She asks. Enid blinks. Then squeals.

"Sure! All the love! But, uh... I feel like you could use some red. A lil' green?" Wednesday scoffs.

"Never again request me to infect my realm with—" she shudders "—color." Enid gasps.

"Infect? Oh! Shame! Shame on you for the very implication of it being unwanted!" She turns the corner past a bend of rock.

"Such a big word for someone with a vocabulary as robust as a plank of wood." Enid can see light peaking past the wall.

"That's..." she stops and stares at the light's source. It's beautiful.

"What... is this?" She looks at the bright flowers and lush forest just past an odd, air-wrapping barrier. She lifts her hand and walks towards it.

Wednesday grabs her hand. "Don't." She lowers the other woman's hand. "Don't touch that; you'll be transported through to Life's realm."

Enid stares at Wednesday like she's trying to communicate telepathically with her.

"Is that bad?" Wednesday's shoulders stiffen and her wings puff out.

"Life and I, we... don't like each other." Enid nods.

"Okay, that makes sense. I just don't really understand why I can't take a little trip. A little... adventure to their realm? Could be fun!" Wednesday shakes her head.

"Life and I are enemies, almost. The only reason I haven't killed her is because the order is needed or things would get very bad." Enid pouts.

"I don't understand, though!" Wednesday sighs.

"If she found you, there's a high percent chance that she'd take you prisoner. As a revenge, of sorts." Enid huffs, stares at the ground.

"Okay..." she says dejected.

"Hey," Wednesday tugs on her wrists and pulls her down, kissing her cheek, "it's alright. I have a much better date planned than she ever could." Enid gains a shit-eating grin.

"You're jealous!"

"Am not." Wednesday lies. She takes her container and opens it. Enid's stomach growls.

"It... smells very good." Enid laughs uncomfortably. She's shaking.

Wednesday lets out a short 'ha!' and sits on the cave's sun warmed floor. "I take it you're hungry?"

Enid drops to the floor so hard a thud rings out.

"Gimme some of that chicken right now or I'll eat you."

Wednesday rolls her eyes and takes a large chunk of the delicious looking chicken, feeding Enid.

Enid quickly snaps her jaw around the chicken.

Wednesday grunts quietly. She pulls back a bloody hand.

"OH FUCK!" Enid yelps and grabs the force of nature's hand, inspecting the blue blood that comes out. "WHY'S IT BLUE?!"

Wednesday scoffs, taking her hand back. Enid watches transfixed as the wound knits itself closed.

"What the fuck?" She whispers.

"I'm hurt that you'd be more concerned with my ichor being blue than me being hurt." Wednesday takes a blueberry and eats it, looking Enid directly in the eyes.

"What the fuck is ichor?" She whipsers.

Wednesday blinks, then sigh in exasperation.

"I need to get you a book on divine physiology. Or a dozen. And a dictionary." Enid grabs her hand hesitantly, running her thumb over where the wound had been.

"Are you okay? I really didn't mean to hurt you." She kisses the no-longer-wounded hand on the spot she bit. "I'm sorry, Willa."

Wednesday lets a soft aw before kissing Enid's hand, reaching up as Enid leans down and scratching the back of her ears. When fluffy wolf ears pop up at the top of her heads, she scratches them instead.

"You didn't hurt me, Tesoro. I healed right up." She places a hand on Enid's. Her hands are dwarfed. "I'm okay. I promise."

"Still not good. Just 'cause you're not hurt doesn't mean it's okay."

"I know. But it was an accident, and I forgive you." She pulls Enid down and kisses her cheek. "I mean it when I say I love you."

"I know," she takes the smaller hand and interlocks their fingers. "I just want to make sure you know that you deserve good things."

Wednesday blushes and takes a pomegranate seed. She feeds it to Enid.

She presses a kiss to Enid's lips.

"Idiot."

-Writer Anon.

Imma kms, theyre so

CUTE FUCKAKCJSKSN

I love them so much writer anon, you have no idea. They're adorable, I'm so happy for them

They're dynamic,, Wednesday willing to give Enid the education she deserves, learning how to cook for her,,

Enid learning to be braver and softer for wednesday,,,

God these women are so in love, good for them

#Writer anon #MAKES ME WANNA SKB FUCKSKSNSNS

22 notes · View notes