#the lady has lips similar to the women in Think Tank

[autumnteawithfriends]

I made a background character for one of my Crashbox OC's segment. I tried to make her look like a paper puppet.

I also reposted this on my alt account as well @art-tea-chill.

#crashbox oc #the harp probably looks terrible #the lady has lips similar to the women in Think Tank #my art #crashbox

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 13

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Chloe sat on the bridge overlooking the river, her feet swinging absently as she watched bubbles streaming to the surface.

She’d love to help.

No, really. On top of just being bored out of her mind, she could also rub it in the other miraculous holders’ faces. That would be fun.

But, alas, things never worked out for her. Master Fu hadn’t whipped up a new batch of powerups quite yet, and even if he had she doubted that he would have given it to her of all people.

(Well, in all technicality they could go underwater and not die. The suits gave them some protection. But have you ever tried punching someone underwater? It’s quite the disadvantage.)

So, she settled for eating some ice cream and watching.

It was kind of fun, if she was being honest. She watched with bated breath, waiting for the occasional moments where Carapace would be thrown out of the water and hit a wall so hard it collapsed on him. He noticed her the third time this happened and now made a point to throw chunks of building at her every time.

Someone was in a bad mood. Who knows why. Couldn’t have anything to do with her, surely.

After about twenty minutes of fighting the buildings started mending themselves and she smiled as her ice cream reappeared in her hand.

Carapace jumped out of the water, a young woman in his arms. Once they were safely on land he detached her from the oxygen tank hidden in the shell on his back. If some of the water on her face wasn’t from the river, neither of them were going to say anything about it.

He walked over. Chloe thought he was just giving her some space to cry (the person looked foreign, if their confused frown was anything to go by), but then she saw the annoyance in the slight set of his jaw and she groaned mentally. Great. She was going to get chewed out again.

“Thanks so much for your help, Chloe --”

“Queenie or Queen Bee when we’re on the job, remember?”

He raised his eyebrows before shrugging and continuing on like he hadn’t heard her: “-- were you here to just watch and laugh?”

She scoffed. “No, that was just a fun little bonus.” She handed him the newly reformed ice cream. “I came here to take the akuma home. Didn’t know she was foreign, though.”

That made him pause, his previously annoyed expression quickly changing to a more confused one. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanted to help me? You?”

“... yeah?” Said Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest. He was clearly looking for some sort of ulterior motive in her eyes, and she figured she’d give him one because she didn’t know how long she could stand to have him look stunned about her doing something mildly nice. “I feel like I owe everyone one for getting us all into this mess.”

He didn’t seem fully convinced (was he really that surprised that she was a decent person? She was a hero! It was her job!), but he let the subject go.

“Thanks, Queenie.”

She smiled a little. “Your ice cream is melting.”

“Damn it --!”

She snickered and walked over to the foreigner, who was just now coming out of their shock.

“Hey!”

The foreigner stared at her for a few minutes before whispering a: “What happened?”

“Um...”

What was the official spiel? Dang. She wracked her brain, trying to remember anything from the many hour long session where Master Fu had drilled it into all of them. Maybe she shouldn’t have slept through it.

“You got turned into a monster by an evil butterfly because we have a magical super terrorist.”

The lady stared at her for a few seconds before laughing and shaking her head. “Okay, what actually happened?”

Chloe gave her a shrug. “I don’t know. You fell in the water and my friend got you out.”

She jerked her head towards Carapace, who was casually eating the ice cream on a nearby bench and not going to class like she’d expected but whatever.

The foreigner nodded. “Yeah, I am a bit clumsy. Why’re you dressed like that?”

Chloe looked down at herself and hesitated. Usually her dad wanted them to say that they were filming a movie so they would still get tourists, but Nadja Chamack wasn’t there to make it sound realistic (no one wants to watch still water on the news for 10+ minutes), so…

“My friend and I cosplay.”

“Oh! Cool!” Said the foreigner. “Thanks for helping me! Hope your outfit didn’t get too damaged!”

After Carapace assured her that it was fine, she relaxed. They gave her directions to her hotel and watched her leave.

He cracked a grin once he was sure the foreigner was gone. “Maybe there’s something in the Paris air that makes people stupid. I still can’t believe anyone actually falls for that.”

“The alternative is believing there's a guy who’s going around with evil butterflies. I’d believe anything over that.”

“America has superheroes and stuff, too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but the heroes are adults and the villains actually show up.”

He sighed. “Lucky them.”

Chloe couldn’t help but agree.

He polished off his ice cream. When asked, she turned away so he could detransform and put his mask on. She didn’t know why he bothered detransforming when he was still wearing a green hoodie as a civilian. What was the point? Did he really want the sleeves back that badly?

Whatever. She detransformed as well.

“Ready to head home?”

“For someone who was so annoyed about leaving class, you don’t seem all that eager to go back to it,” said Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest as they started on their way.

He raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “The excuse I used isn’t one that would let me go back. Or, at least, if I did everyone in class would think I was a terrible friend.”

She nodded her understanding.

“Thanks for trying, though.”

She chanced a look back and scoffed a little at the soft smile on his face. “Don’t expect anything like that again. I just owed you.”

The look melted into a cheeky grin. “Well, actually, you didn’t actually do anything to help, so don’t you still owe me?”

“... no? I gave you ice cream. Debt gone. That's how it works.”

“Okay, but it was previously eaten ice cream.”

“Like you can tell the difference.”

He rested a hand over his heart. “I happen to have a very refined palette, thank you very much.”

“I’ve seen you eat pickles with peanut butter.”

“You’ve dipped a burger in honey!”

“I have an excuse,��� she reminded him. “What’s yours?”

He was silent for a moment. There was no excuse for pickles and peanut butter.

“... you still owe me.”

“No, I don’t!”

Would you believe me if I said that they continued debating this the entire twenty minute walk home?

And maybe even a little bit afterwards?

~

Chloe glanced out the window. It was nearing October, and…

“Hey, guys, we need to use these vegetables before they go out of season.”

Chat looked up from where he was watching a cartoon. Rena stopped doing pushups.

(Ladybug was on patrol and Carapace was doing homework in his room. Unfortunate, because now both of the people assigned the role of ‘group impulse control’ were absent.)

“What even uses a lot of vegetables?” Rena said.

“Salad,” said Chat with a knowing nod.

“Ew,” said Chloe, shaking her head. She stared at everything they had, a tiny frown playing on her lips, then snapped her fingers. “Salsa uses vegetables, right? Let’s just make a bunch of that.”

There were a lot of vegetables, but hey! More for them.

Rena went back to doing pushups. “Sure. Just make sure it isn’t white people stuff. Try asking for the recipe in Spanish.”

“Smart. Chat, can you look it up? I have dirt on my hands.”

Chat groaned as if she were asking him to do some great task and then stretched for his phone on the coffee table. He refused to leave the couch, so he ended up with his feet hooked over the arm of the couch for support as he stretched himself to the phone. He broke into a wide grin when he finally managed to grab it and then pulled himself back onto the couch.

It was probably more effort than just getting up a bit to grab it then sitting back down, but whatever.

He started typing, then he paused. “You guys know the Spanish word for salsa?”

Silence stretched between them as the two women looked at each other, trying to gauge whether or not he’d actually just asked that. Chat was steadily sinking into the couch as if hoping it would swallow him whole.

“The… the spanish word for salsa?” Repeated Rena.

“It -- I -- shut up!” He said. “Do you want salsa or not?”

Chloe snickered. “Sure. Can I see the recipe?”

He showed it to her and she squinted for a minute at all the words. Were some of them similar to French words? Yes. Was she completely sure about anything? Not at all.

She briefly considered asking Chat to translate everything for her, but she couldn’t. Not after she’d laughed at him for temporarily forgetting that salsa is salsa. He’d at least known the word for ‘recipe’ in Spanish, he had that over her.

Whatever. She’d guess. She’d had salsa before, surely that was enough to figure it out.

She started picking vegetables and after making sure to wash them off properly, they were set to start cooking.

Rena raised her eyebrows at the sink full of vegetables, opened her mouth to say something, snapped it shut. Her lips curved into a fox-like grin.

“What is it? I don’t like that smile,” said Chloe. She could feel that Rena was getting mischievous, she just couldn’t figure out why.

“Ah, don’t worry,” said Rena, waving her off as she pulled on an apron.

This worried Chloe more, but whatever.

“We don’t have a food processor or a blender, what do we do?” Said Chat, his eyes scanning the recipe.

“Just cut them real thin. It’ll be fine,” said Chloe with a vague wave of her hand.

She had a lot of confidence for someone who had never been in a kitchen in her life.

… It went great. Obviously.

The resident rich kids actually had been trying to be helpful, which kind of makes their failures worse in a way.

Chloe had been cutting tomatoes with the dull end of the knife for ten minutes before Rena had thought to look over and turn it around.

Chat had thought that it would be a good idea to chop jalapenos before onions and had rubbed jalapeno juice in his eye while trying to stop crying, which had not helped.

While Chat was attempting to get that out of his eyes without actually touching them, Chloe had taken up cutting onions. It was harder than she’d thought it’d be. The onion kept falling apart no matter how hard she tried to hold it together.

Chat had come back, eyes irritated and red, and started trying to cut tomatoes. This would have been fine if he could actually see the seeds enough to get them out.

… it was at this point that Rena had made them go sit down so she could just cook without a disaster happening every few seconds. She may have liked mayhem, but she actually wanted to eat some of the food they were working so hard for, so it was in her best interest to get them to just sit down at the kitchen table and watch.

A good while later Rena walked over. “I finished. Want to see?” She asked, her voice a little wobbly, as if she was on the verge of laughter.

Chloe squinted suspiciously at her before looking at the counter.

Ah. So that was what Rena’s mischievous smile had meant earlier.

They might have made about seven mixing bowls full of salsa (actually, it was more pico de gallo if you consider consistency, but that’s neither here nor there).

Chat groaned quietly. “Well, I hope Ladybug and Carapace really like salsa.”

“We don’t.”

The three problem children looked up to see Ladybug and Carapace leaning in the doorframe. Ladybug looked like she was fighting back her amusement, Carapace just looked tired.

Ladybug managed to pull herself back to her normal formalness as she crossed her arms over her chest. “According to the internet, salsa goes bad in about a week. I do expect that you won’t waste any.”

“Please help,” said a slightly distressed Rena. Their diets were SCREWED.

“Nope. This was your mistake,” said Carapace.

Oh, so NOW he has a backbone?

Ladybug gave Rena a cold look. “You should have told them.”

“... it was my miraculous’s fault.”

“Unfortunate,” said Carapace, unamused. He looked at the bowls on the counter and shook his head with a sigh. “Guess I need to go buy some tortilla chips for everyone.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write

#do i have pico de gallo related trauma?? that's for me and the fifty people reading this to know #a miraculous tiktok account #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #carapace #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #rena rouge #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

[samsexualdeancurious]

Little Silver Barbells (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 1,545

Summary: Sam discovers the reader has nipple piercings and wants to find out what else is pierced.

Warnings: Nipple piercings, vertical clitoral hood piercing, naughty times

Written for CeCe's June 2020 request

Betaed by @manawhaat

---

She’s not wearing a bra.

Normally, Sam wouldn’t care either way. He’s heard from many women through the years that they’re uncomfortable and it’s her body, she can wear what she wants. She’s gone braless in the bunker before, but it’s been months since he’s noticed, and this time he really notices.

Sometime in the last year, Y/N got her nipples pierced.

He can see them through her thin grey tank top, two small balls on either side of her nipples that are extremely distracting. He’s been crushing on Y/N for about a year now and this is really not helping his predicament. Hopefully she doesn’t notice him staring.

… where else does she have piercings?

“Yo, Sam.”

She’s snapping her fingers in front of his face. He startles, realizes he’s been caught, and immediately feels his face burn. Y/N smirks knowingly.

“See something you like?” she teases, leaning forward on the library table and squeezing her breasts together between her arms as she does. The action emphasizes her cleavage and the additions to her nipples, and that’s when the realization sets in that she knows.

Fuck.

Sam stutters, tripping over his words. She lifts a brow at him and he blushes harder because he doesn’t even know what it is he’s trying to say.

“Sam,” she purrs, beckoning to him with one finger. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

He somehow gets to his feet and rounds the table without bumping into it or tripping over his feet, following her as she heads down the hall in the direction of the bedrooms. “Y/N?” he says as they walk. “What are…?”

She laughs, spinning to face him and offer her hand. “C’mon, Sammy. I know you don’t get out much but surely even you know what it looks like when a woman wants a man to do all sorts of naughty things to her.”

He stammers and she laughs again, a bright sound that sends warmth through his core. He’s always loved her laugh, since the very day they met and she saved his ass from a werewolf. Dean had said something snarky that Sam can’t remember now, but she’d laughed and Sam had been sold.

“Sam,” she says in a low, dangerous voice as she stops in front of her door and pulls him to her. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to see if anything else is pierced,” he blurts out before he can stop himself.

Y/N stares at him a moment in stunned silence and Sam’s sure he’s fucked this up. But then she grins mischievously and spreads her arms wide. “Come find out, then.”

Sam growls low in his throat and shoves Y/N against the door, finally - finally - pressing his lips to hers. She returns his passion, one hand digging into his hair and the other scrambling behind her to find the doorknob. Suddenly the door flies open and they practically fall through. Sam manages to keep them upright and kicks the door closed, gets it locked before Y/N drags him towards the bed. She’s already halfway through his shirt buttons and Sam doesn’t know when that happened; he was too busy marveling at the perfect pressure of her mouth against his.

“Why do you wear so many layers?” she complains, tearing their lips apart and frowning at his shirt.

Sam chuckles and gets to work on his belt while she finishes his buttons. Soon both his flannel and belt are thrown aside, and Sam pulls his t-shirt over his head.

Y/N immediately settles her hands on his waist with a soft, happy noise that sparks warmth in Sam’s chest.

“Fucking hell, Sammy,” she says, thumbs stroking the little divots above his hip bones. “That’s it. No more shirts for you. I want to be able to look at this all day long.”

She winks and Sam’s cheeks burn but he laughs all the same, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of her head. She comes easily when he guides her into a kiss and this one is soft, much softer than what started in the hallway.

“Oh, you’re good at that,” Y/N murmurs when they break for air. “We’re gonna do a lot more of that.”

“Of course,” he agrees, even though his heart is doing happy little flips right now. Bumping their noses together, his hands settle on her waist. “But someone here is a little overdressed, and it’s not me.”

Y/N smirks and takes a step back. In one smooth motion, she grabs the hem of her tank top and whips it over her head. Suddenly, she’s standing before him in just her leggings and all the blood in Sam’s body is in his dick.

“Oh,” he breathes after just looking in silence for the longest moment. “Oh, that’s… wow.”

Y/N smiles wide and genuine, confident in her partial nudity under Sam’s hungry gazy. “I guess you approve, then?”

“Hell yes,” Sam manages, returning his hands to her waist. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re stunning.”

Her smile softens, a little shy. “Yeah? Wanna see more?”

That’s all the permission Sam needs. He shifts his hands to her thighs and lifts, tossing her backwards onto the bed. She bounces a little on the mattress, laughing, and scoots up to the center of the bed while Sam sheds his jeans and socks. He hesitates over his boxers and Y/N answers the unspoken question for him by reaching out to yank them down herself. His cock bobs free and she groans, one hand curling around the base of the long shaft.

“Knew you’d be big all over,” she says. “I want that in me but first…” She releases his cock and lays back on the mattress, arms over her head in a loose stretch that gives him the most beautiful view of her peaked nipples and the little silver bars running through them. She shoots him a wicked smirk that speaks volumes about all the dirty things she wants to do to him and have done to her. “First you have a discovery to make.”

Sam’s brain stops functioning for what feels like a full thirty seconds at those words and the possibilities they hold. Y/N’s giggle gets the wheels turning again and he kicks off his boxers before climbing up onto the bed, kneeling on top of her thighs.

He has to kiss her first. He just has to. She welcomes his kiss, fingers sliding into his hair as she sighs against his lips.

“Such a gentleman,” she says with a soft, fond smile. “C’mon, baby, get to exploring.”

Sam is more than happy to obey. He’s usually a “wow the lady with pure brute strength and a big cock” kind of guy but something about Y/N and this whole situation makes him want to go slow, draw this out. He’s dying to get her completely naked and find all the secrets her body hides, between whatever piercing she’s teasing at and the many little spots he can use to make her squirm and whimper beneath him.

She’s vocal as he kisses his way down her body, but in a quiet, breathy way. Each sigh and moan he draws from her lips sends  little shivers of pleasure down his spine. She’s so beautifully receptive and Sam is more than happy to linger when he finds a nipple and catches it in her teeth, the action spurring her to arch into his mouth. Hell, Sam will stay here forever if she wants him to, giving her breasts all the attention he’s been thinking of since he first realized what he was seeing through her shirt.

“Sam,” she finally manages, shoving at his shoulders and pressing her hips upward the best she can in her position. “Sam, please, I need…”

“I gotcha.”

He kisses down the valley between her breasts and leaves a damp trail over her belly, pausing at the waistband of her leggings to look up at her through his lashes. She gives him a little nod and he pulls the pants down, careful to leave her panties in place - just to draw this out a little longer. As soon as the leggings have been tossed aside, he turns his attention to her panties. They’re a simple blue cotton pair soft under his fingertips as he begins slowly tugging them down her thighs.

All he can see at first is a little glint of silver and his cock throbs at the sight, the knowledge of what Y/N is about to share with him.

“Fuck,” he whispers, lifting up release her legs.

She happily spreads them and Sam’s hand flies down to grip the base of his cock at the sight - a little barbell, similar to the ones through her nipples, running vertically through the hood of her clit.

“Oh, my god,” Sam groans, leaning down to rest his cheek against her inner thigh and just look for a moment. She’s fucking gorgeous here as well, lovely folds beneath the delicate piece of jewerly, and he wants her like he hasn’t wanted anyone before.

“Go on, big guy,” Y/N says, fingertips brushing his hair off his forehead. “Have a taste.”

And that’s all the invitation Sam needs.

---

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward @onethirstyunicorn

#my writing #sam x reader #supernatural #lemon

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Small Price to Pay

Warnings: Non con, dub con, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, little bit of childbirth, slight depression, 18+

Word count: 2,973

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Reader is the youngest girl in her family and her father is looking to sell his daughter into marriage next. She’s able to fend off majority of the men who come to court her, but then a mysterious man with eyes the color of the ocean comes into the picture. Money is a small price to pay for a happy life after all. 

~ indicates a time change

Prompts: The song “Light” by Sleeping at last

A/N: This is for @marvelfulxbabes​ challenge that I’m so thrilled to be apart of. I’m sorry for the hiatus, school is always way busier during the 2nd semester, but I have a bunch of stuff coming out. As for my series they may take a while, so I’m sorry if you were invested in those. They are coming though, I miss them deeply. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

Ps: Thinking about part 2 to this, whatcha think? ;)

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

Your father was a douchebag. Plain and simple. He had bought your mother from your grandfather and he had sold your older sisters to men twice their age. Now that you were 18, it was your turn. You were extremely close to your sister, Anne. She was the third oldest and the last to leave you alone with your two younger half brothers. She was the most like you and always fought back the men who came to bid on her like property. Sadly, a man came by and easily found it charming. She always said to never give in, figure out what they want and do the opposite. You’d be successful only until dad finds a man who doesn’t give a damn at all. They were out there, but your father had failed nearly a thousand times already. 

Since your birthday, at least three men have come to your house to try to court you. In fact, that’s what your birthday present was, a rich man named Tony Stark there to court you. He worked as a CEO on the upper east side for a well known tech company. He was loaded, and your father wanted in. You figured out Tony like proper and well spoken ladies, someone to show off at his expensive Galas filled with people who spoke seven different languages. So, you acted a slob. Spilled your fancy tea all over yourself and his prestine suit, mispoke several words, use vulgar language, and acted painfully stupid. Tony marched right out and your father made you kneel in rice until your knees bled. It was worth the pain. 

It’s been six months and your father was unsuccessful. You have never seen your sisters since their marriage and you missed them, especially Anne. You didn’t want to end up a housewife somewhere with no say in anything. When your mom died your father quickly remarried, it was as if your mother meant nothing to him. You’d be damned if that happened to you. If you were going to get married, it’d be for love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, you have a visitor.” Your father shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your father, he was already smoking a cigar even though it was 8am. You groaned and got out of bed, walking to your closet, pulling out a t-shirt and jeans. 

“Oh no, you can go out like that.” Your father pointed to your sleep shorts that showed off your legs and cupped your ass perfectly; your top was a thin tank top that showed your hardening nipples. You rolled your eyes and started walking to your door, shouldering your way past your father. 

You walked into the living room and saw a man standing there with his back to you facing the window. His arms were folded and you saw one sparkling in the light, he had a metal arm. You gasped at it and stopped in your tracks. The man turned to you and the corners of his mouth threatened to rise. He was hot. His hair was pinned out of his face in a man bun, he wore navy blue dress pants and a white button up dress shirt that had he rolled to his elbows. His eyes were as bright as the diamonds the strange men bring to you in order to try to buy your love. 

“Mr. Barnes, my daughter. Daughter, Mr. Barnes.” The way your father said daughter bit at your nerves. He knew introducing you with a title rather than your name made you feel inferior, as if that’s the only thing there was to know about you. You glared at your father before turning back to Mr Barnes. He extended his flesh hand to you. 

“Pleased to meet you. I doubt your name is daughter, though.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t meet his eyes. You took his hand and faked a smile. “Mmmhm, it’s not. Y/n will do just fine.” Mr. Barnes shook your hand before gesturing to the couch. 

“Take a seat, let’s get to know each other.” At that your father excused himself, but not before casting you a warning look. You smirked back at him before taking your seat next to Mr. Barnes. “So, how old are you?”

“97, just a few years younger than you.” You bit at him. You always lead with sarcasm, if they laughed they were serious and you’d have to become boring. If they didn’t that means you had to continue being “unladylike.” 

Mr. Barnes eyebrows shot up before he laughed a bit. It wasn’t real, he was uncomfortable. He was easy to read, you had this in the bag. 

“Alright, I see why you’re so uptight. I wouldn’t like it if men were to come in and try to buy me either. Believe it or not, I used to hate this practice.”

“Yet you’re willingly here and seem to be enjoying it.” You cocked your head to the side, your smart mouth making him shift a bit. 

“My younger sisters have been victims of this trade,” Mr.Barnes ignores you, “I always said I wouldn’t do it. As time has gone on, no woman of value isn’t being bargained off. You should be lucky your father cares for you so much, the ones who aren’t cared for are just thrown out into the world.” 

“Grateful? My father sold my sisters like livestock for a couple millions and I haven’t seen any of them in years! This “bargaining” system is destroying families and is never created equal. What do the men and young boys suffer? What do they lose? They can still go see their family. They still have freedom.” Your voice raised, the audacity that these men had always blew your mind. They didn’t understand and never would, so why did they try to sit there and try to make you? They saw how unhappy their sisters and mothers were, yet they continued on with this bullshit for generations. If you ever were married off and had a son, you’d beg him to stop the cycle. You’d try even harder to protect your daughter. 

Mr. Barnes sighed and sat up a bit more. “I’m sorry doll, I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant it as a compliment, honest.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. He looked apologetic but you didn’t care. You weren’t here to be nice, you were there to survive as long as you possibly could. 

“Well, Mr. Barnes, your intentions don’t seem to have worked out, did they?” You raised your chin and said his name with a poison that even stunned you. There’s no way he’s gonna want you.

“My real name is James, sorry for the formicality,” Mr.Barnes was suddenly smiling and standing up. He crossed to the door that separated the living room and the main area in your house. Where your father was sitting on the other side. What just happened?

You lookedon with curious eyes as James opened the door and called for your father. He was still smiling and your father rushed over, angry eyes finding yours before turning soft at James when he saw his beaming face. “We have a deal, sir” He shook your father’s hand while your jaw dropped. Fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two million dollars. That’s how much you’re worth apparently. You don’t know where you went wrong, but being a brat was only going to work so many times. James apparently didn’t mind at all that you had a mouth, in fact he was telling your father how much he loved it. He said while looking for a wife he pretended to be proper so that when the girls acted the way they thought he wanted them to, boring in his opinion, he knew they weren’t for him. You, on the other hand, spoke your mind and were feisty. It ignited a flame James believed was dead. 

You looked on with glossed over eyes as you say your belongings being packed away and set in a moving truck. It was mostly irreplaceable objects such as photos and your favorite clothing. James promised to buy you new things and to add a new wardrobe. He must’ve been loaded because after dropping that much he still promised so much more. Lucky girl you were.

You signed a paper while a ring decorated your finger and numbly kissed James on the lips to seal your marriage. He wore a similar band on his left hand finger. “Congratulations, may your marriage be filled with joy, blah blah blah.” Your father blabbered while he sucked on another cigar and counted the money James had given him. 

James took you to his house. It was a humble suburban home on the outskirts of New York, much different than your penthouse in the city. There was a white picket fence and freshly trimmed grass decorating the outside. “We’re home, doll.” James cut the engine of his BMW, putting his hand on your thigh. You changed into a short blue summer dress that complimented your skin tone and brown wedges. You looked like your mom and every other dutiful wife you’d known. 

You stepped out of the car and looked up at the house that you’d be spending the rest of your life. The sky was clear and beautiful but you felt the depressive clouds that rained over cul de sac, drenching their housewives. The weight these women held, loving the men who cheated, hated, and abused them. James came up behind you and pulled your waist so that you leaned on him. He kissed your cheek and looked into your eyes. “I can’t wait for us to fill the rooms in the house. I can see it now, two kids a boy and a girl. Maybe more if it feels right.” Your stomach churned at the thought. You didn’t want kids with him. But it didn’t matter, when you signed your name you signed away your happiness. The light had gone out in your soul. 

“Yes dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years into your marriage felt like a decade. Every day was the same: wake up, make breakfast, see James off to work, clean, shower and look pretty for James, cook dinner, welcome James home, eat dinner and ask James about his day, have sex, and go to sleep. The sex at first was painful and he was never gentle. He was never lovey dovey, never brought flowers, just wanted a one-sided relationship. 

You always went to visit his family and friends on holidays or you hosted his family and friends at your house. You hadn’t seen your family and, even though you hated your dad and never really talked with your stepmom and brothers, you missed them for the similarity. You were missing your brothers growing up, one was three when you left the other was six. You asked once to see your sisters and James merely shrugged it off. “You would only bother them” he reasoned, “They’re busy running a household like you. They don’t have time for useless small talk.”

Today it wasn’t your alarm that woke you up. It was the vomit that was rising in your stomach, pushing its way out of your mouth. You ran to your bathroom and puked in the toilet. You continued gagging and dry heaving when everything was out of your tummy. James walked in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“N-nothing, dear. I’m sorry for waking you.”

James shook his head and walked closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I think I just ate something.”

James frowned. “We eat the same thing, have for years. You always skip lunch because it ruins your appetite for dinner. I’m not feeling sick.” His lips showed signs of cracking a smile as he bit his finger, pretending to ponder what could be going on.

You knew what he meant. It had been two years of sensless fucking. Like you had held out on marriage your body had held out on pregnancy, but just like your marriage to james, your body had come to a point that it could no longer fight. 

James opened up the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and pulled out a pink box. He reached in and pulled out to reveal two white sticks. He handed them to you. “Take them.”

You reached out and took the sticks, starting to pull your pants down so you could pee. Thirty minutes later, James’ phone timer rang and he looked at the sticks. His face scrunched as pure joy took over his features. He held the sticks out to you. “We’re pregnant!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just gotten done with your baby shower and you were now sitting down for a break before you would get up and start cleaning. You rubbed your sore back and nine month old belly. Baby boy was bigger than normal, James said it was because of his special genes. James was saying bye to his best friend, Steve, before he shut the door and turned to you. Of course, nobody you were close with was at the party, just James’ family and close friends. He did say he had phones your father to tell him the news, but he failed to send even a card. You had grown to not expect much or feel sad for the neglect you got emotionally from your husband or your father. 

James made his way to you, he was still smiling. “Not much longer, doll. We’ll be meeting this big guy any day now.” He rubbed your belly before grabbing your hand, pulling you up to stand despite your pain. “Dance with me.” You both danced to music that wasn’t playing and you felt your son kick. You smiled, the light you thought you’d lost was slowly lighting again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The contractions were horrible. Nothing you had ever felt before. You were screaming and clutching James’ hand as you were being wheeled into the hospital room. Nurses and doctors poked and prodded at your skin, asking you questions you weren’t capable of answering due to the immense pain you were feeling. Your legs were propped up and James moved closer to you, still holding your hand. The doctor came to stand between your legs before sitting in a chair. He nodded to James while you sobbed out as a new wave of pain washed over you. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes, push.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your schedule was thrown off balance a bit, you had a newborn now. You still did the majority of the things the same, wake up, make breakfast, get James Jr, or Bucky as a nickname, and feed him, see James off to work, clean up, bathe and dress Bucky, clean and dress yourself up, make lunch because it was important for breastfeeding now, walk around to settle Bucky for a nap, cook dinner, greet James, feed Bucky, get him ready for bed, have sex with James, and sleep yourself. 

You loved your son unconditionally, he slept in the crib next to you and James’ bed for now. “Easier access” James had said. You didn’t mind, you were closer with the love of your life. 

James held your wrists in one hand as he thrusted into you, his hips crushing into yours at fast and hard rhythm that was sure to leave bruises. His moans and skin slapping skin was the only thing you could hear in the room, Bucky was sleeping soundly. 

“Fuck, your pussy is so good for me. Still so tight, even after Bucky. Shit I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up so you can give me a girl. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, James.”

“Mmm, good girl. My good girl.” James finished inside you, grunting in the process. He rolled over and released a long breath. “You’re such a good mom, doll. Such a good wife.” He sleepily rambled. You hummed in response and rolled over to face Bucky, watching as his tiny hands scrunched into fists and his steady breaths caused his chest to rise and fall. His light blue and grey onesie and matching hat barely fit, he was growing faster than you thought any baby did. You’d ask James to buy more soon. Maybe he would let you go too, picking out baby clothes for your son would make you so happy. You’d work towards it, make James’ favorite meal and might even throw in a few blowjobs. 

Bucky’s face started to contort and he soon started to fuss, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. You looked at the time and knew it was time for his feeding. He ate a lot but that’s just what a growing boy like him needed, plenty of food. You picked him up before he could wake James and guided him to your nipple. He stopped crying and started sucking, looking at you with big blue eyes like his father. You let you fist wrap around your finger as you slightly rocked and quietly hummed. Bucky was the light you needed in your life. He made your soul glow again, and he gave you hope for the future. Hidden in the dressure was money you were slowly stealing from James. Five dollars here, another ten there. By this time next year you’d have enough money to leave with your son Bucky. You’d leave with your sisters to live in a house Anne had found in Germany. 

Bucky let go of your breast and cooed. He looked at you with sleepy eyes as he let out a small yawn. You smiled. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will defend your last breath.” You promised your son. He was the light, and you felt you could sleep peacefully at last knowing he was right there with you.

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@jtargaryen18​

#marvelfulxbabeswritingchallenge #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #non con #dub con #dark!marvel #dark!mcu

[derryjay]

Double experience

It wasn't my first time meeting women while tending my garden, but it was my first time with two.

Becky and Susan were two curious teens that would often stop to talk about gardening in general. Both young ladies were seniors in high school and were both involved in the FFA in school. The pair would stop by my yard regularly to view my vegetable plants and see how they were progressing. They always told me the latest info on the newest diseases working their way around as well as possible cures.

Both of the leggy teens seemed timid at first but friendly. Being somewhat tall for women, they were probably ostracized by their peers due to their height. However, both girls were cute in their way. Becky was a freckled face redhead while Susan was, I assumed, a true blonde. Her alabaster skin and pale blue eyes made me feel that way. She looked almost like an albino.

Over time it seemed that their sociability with me didn't transfer to others their own age. An example of that was when they were visiting the garden one day, another teenager passed by, and they completely ignored his attempted contact. Finally, after several visits, they let me in on the fact that most of the kids in school thought they were 'weirdo lesbians,' as they put it. Since they opened that door, I offered, "You do know that there is nothing wrong with that, don't you?"

"Yeah," they mumbled in stereo before making up excuses to finish some homework and headed home. I finished my weeding for the day and went inside, hoping that I hadn't offended them.  

It was about four days later that they once again appeared as I was tending to my vegetables. The girls seemed even friendlier than usual and not at all bothered by my comment from before. It wasn't until they entered the garden and began helping me that I noticed their scant attire. Both were wearing tank tops, leaving their midsections exposed, as well as short-shorts that barely covered their pert little buttocks.

These two were not your slutty dressing type of teenagers, and I was a bit surprised until Becky spoke. "First off, we wanted to apologize for our behavior on our previous visit. We reacted to your comment as if you were teasing us as the kids do, but then after talking it over, we realized that you weren't."

Susan added, a bit quieter, "We have played a little together and do enjoy it, but we'd really like to try a guy together. We've heard our mothers talk about you over the last couple of years and were intrigued. That is why we initially started to talk to you, but after seeing your love for plants, we kinda left that idea behind."

"However, since we are both going away to college in a month, we would love for you to teach us about man-on-woman sex," Becky blurted out.

'What my little horn-dog friend is saying is would you be interested in teaching a couple of know-nothing eighteen-year-olds about copulating with the opposite sex? We know that you have helped more than a few women out with their sexual frustrations, whatever they may be. But, we also know that we're young and not all that attractive..."

"Wait," I stepped in. "You two are very attractive, but it's not about that or you being legal so much as whether I think you can handle the emotional aspect of sexual intercourse. Even the smartest of us has mistaken sex for love and ruined their life over it. Why do you think I'm still single?" We all had a good laugh at my last comment before I added, "I want you ladies to think about this for a few days while I do the same, then we'll reconvene here Saturday morning. Does that sound fair?"

They both nodded their heads affirmatively before we went back to tending the garden as they thought things over. Then, with the weeds pulled and the veggies harvested, I handed them their take for helping, as usual, and they left for the evening. Becky turned back and smiled before saying, "We'll see you Saturday, about ten a.m.?"

"That's perfect!" I replied while watching those long legs disappear up the street. I, too, thought about the ramifications of having sex with a couple of teenage girls and the possible emotional baggage that it would bring. Even with them being of legal age, I was concerned that I'd have to tape the sessions to protect myself if there was blowback. But, of course, I would get their consent and, it would be nice for a later review. I mean, who would ever believe that I had two pretty teenage girls at the same time.

At thirty-five, I was twice their age, which wouldn't look good if things went awry. This would be a tough decision, but not one for tonight.

I took care of myself that night to ease myself into sleep. There was something to be said for a good orgasm to bring on a deep and restful sleep. The following morning, I thought through things with a clearer head. I decided that the taping was a bad idea even with their consent. If I were going to do this, I would have to trust them, and they trust me.

The week went by, and I found myself awake at six a.m. Saturday morning with some serious wood. Rather than pleasure myself, I headed for some coffee while slipping on some loose shorts sans underwear. With my coffee in hand, I headed for the greenhouse to do a little housekeeping. After planting season, it became a bit of a junkyard, and it was time to do some cleanup.  

Raising plants from seed and then cleaning up the mess took a lot of time and effort but kept the stress monster off of my back. There was just something so relaxing and revitalizing about the whole process. Of course, the weed pulling was the best for stress reduction. Yanking those stubborn and annoying suckers from the ground released the pressures of the workday in waves.

I'd finished throwing away the cracking and busted pots along with the assorted trash. After sweeping up, I headed to get some hot soapy water for scrubbing the dirty pots. There was quite a stack, and I knew that it would take a couple of hours. I heard some voices as I emerged from the basement with a five-gallon bucket of hot water laden with soap and a touch of bleach.

It was only seven-thirty, so I assumed that it was a couple of walkers passing by. Then, coming from the backyard, I noticed someone in the greenhouse through the frosted panels. "Hello there," I offered as I neared the sliding doors.

"Oh, hi Dennis!" I heard in cheerful stereo from my two teenage helpers.

"What are you two doing up and out so early on a Saturday?" I questioned as my eyes roamed their skimpy clothing.

"Well, we thought things over and talked about it all like you suggested," Susan replied.

"And?" I inquired.

"We understand why you wanted us to think about things. You're worried that you'll be accused of taking advantage of us or worse. So, we figured that we should tape our experience using all three of our phones. That way, we all have a copy and can add our oral consent at the beginning," Becky added.

"You're correct about part of it, but the other part is that you two are entrusting me with your first time, and that is a monumental obligation from my perspective. It's not that I haven't taken another's virginity before. But, still, at the time, I was of similar age to the one I deflowered. Plus, I thought I was in love."

"We did consider that too, but I honestly don't think that will be a problem since we'll be leaving the area in a month," Susan stated.

"Although, we may want to do it over and over until then if it's really good," Becky added with a sly little smile before asking. "So, when can we start?"

"Well, I was going to wash some pots, but I think spending time with the two of you in bed sounds much more exciting. So why don't we head inside now?"

Becky sprinted toward the back door with Susan and I following close behind. Once inside, she headed up the stairs and found my bedroom. Once inside, we all paused as they took in the furnishings. The king-sized bed drew Susan's attention immediately, and she slithered across it before rolling back and forth.

Becky was still looking around when Susan implored, "Come kiss me Becky, and lick my titties," as she slipped her tank-top over her head. "You too, Dennis," she added while kicking off her flip-flops. I guess it's true what they say about the quiet ones. As Becky and I each took a pert little nipple in our mouths, Susan pushed off her short skirt and panties. Then, with her entire lithe form exposed, Susan put a hand on each of our heads, holding us tightly to her a-cup breasts.

I moved a hand down her torso, lightly drawing circles on the taut abdomen. Goose-bumps rose as I crossed the top of her pelvic mound and tickled her sparse blonde hair. Smiling to myself about her true-blonde status, I continued down her thigh. The bumps followed my fingers as they continued tracing across her inner thigh. Finally, I softly pulled her leg outward to open her flower for full display when I reached her knee.  

Becky followed my lead, but not so leisurely. As I moved my fingers delicately back up Susan's thigh, Becky was in quick pursuit and reached Susan's lips before me. As Becky's fingers traced Susan's outer labia, Susan cooed faintly. When my fingers reached Susan's sex, I too began to stimulate her outer regions.

With my digits on autopilot, I turned to face Becky. We'd been in close proximity for a few minutes now but hadn't really acknowledged each other. Then, as if sensing my stare, Becky looked at me, and we quickly moved together for a kiss as our fingers tangled at Susan's damp opening. The kiss moved from tentative to full-on face sucking rather quickly.

We simultaneously began to increase our provocation of Susan's splayed puss. My finger went for her little nub while Becky's slipped inside. Susan's cooing turned to loud sighs as she lifted her ass off the bed to spur us on. I moved up Susan's chest with Becky's lips in tow, and we licked and nibbled her neck while heading to share her mouth. With the three-way kissing in full bloom, Susan's legs began to shudder as she neared her first climax. She growled into our mouths before going rigid. As her crest passed its peak, Susan dropped to the bed and panted.  

Upon catching her breath, Susan stammered, "Oh my God. That was one of the best orgasms that I've ever had."

She kissed us both ardently as we continued to play with her leaking box. Pulling my face away, I asked, "So, what have you two done together so far?"

No longer shy now that my finger was circling her stiff clit, Susan answered, "Just what we're doing right now."

"So neither of you has gone down on the other?" I inquired.

"I tried to do it to Susan, but she was too embarrassed to let me," Becky almost whispered.

"There's no need to be shy now, Becky. You have two of your fingers buried in your best friend's pussy, and it's making her feel fantastic. Isn't it, Susan?" I asked.

"Fuck, yes!" Susan yelled between gasps for air.

"Why don't we head down to her leaking puss together and get a little taste of Susan?" I suggested.

"That sounds yummy," Becky replied as we did just that.

Kissing our way down her neck and chest, Becky and I both paused to enjoy Susan's firm nipples for a minute or two. Susan was relishing our mutual attention as she panted and moaned emphatically. Then, with them both pink and stiff, we moved down her belly while kissing and nibbling. Susan's cries softened but never stopped as we neared her drooling slit.

Becky let me take the lead as we were centimeters from Susan's sex. I paused and blew gently as Becky removed her fingers. A vibrant, "Mmmmmm," escaped Susan's lips as goosebumps rose across her pelvic flesh. I did it a few more times as I drew closer. Finally, the last breath was into her small gape left from Becky's intruding digits.

The first touch of my tongue came at the base of Susan's vaginal opening. She jumped a little as I moved up her inner labia.

"Oh, it's so warm and gentle. I could get used to... oh, fuck!" Susan shrieked as I flattened my tongue and swiped across her entire puss. Her pelvis jumped up, and her thighs attempted to squeeze shut. With the next pass, I pushed my tongue in just a little before another full swipe. Susan seemed to be enjoying her first pussy licking. Her nectar was sweet, and while I was enjoying myself thoroughly, I knew that it was time to share.

As I pulled back, Becky moved in hesitantly. I whispered in her ear, "Just enjoy her and pay attention to her sounds and movements. You'll quickly figure out what she likes best." After a few tentative licks, Becky began to devour Susan like an animal. Locking her arms around both of Susan's thighs, Becky went at her like she was starving. Susan's hands gripped Becky's hair and pulled her in even tighter as they did their dance.

I sat up and watched their entanglement and noticed how Becky began to grind her crotch into my bedspread. She was still dressed in her skirt, tank-top, and sneakers, so I moved behind her to remove them. The sneakers slipped off easily but gave away my intentions.

"Yes, please!" Becky garbled as her face barely left Susan's puss long enough to speak.

I let my hands move up her legs ever so subtly toward her inner thighs as Becky eagerly spread them. Once I reached the top of her thighs, I tickled her puss through her white cotton panties. She squirmed like a worm in your hand as I licked and nibbled my way up her legs. Upon reaching the bottom of her panties, I pressed my face into her crotch and buttocks. I let my nose dig in between her firm little cheeks as my tongue lapped at her soaked and covered crotch.

I could still hear Susan's cries of excitement even though my ears were well covered by Becky's clamping legs. Having gotten a good sample of Becky's flavor, I decided it was time to dig in and removed her skirt and undies in one quick pull. Once they were on the floor, I grabbed her feet to suck on her toes. Becky seemed very ticklish at first, but the more I licked, the more excited she seemed to get. She quickly neared climax as I began scraping them lightly with my teeth.

Becky began flopping on the bed as her orgasm seized her young body. The howls and screeches she released echoed throughout my house. As her movement eased, I slid up quickly, opening her thighs along the way. Then, nearing her buttocks, I grasped both cheeks and spread them wide. My tongue swiped upward from her quivering puss across her taint and ending at her little pink pucker.

Again the echoes filled the room as both girls were in a state of bliss. Then, wanting to give Becky a little more, I slipped first one, then two fingers into her slippery snatch. As I fingered her willing hole, my tongue flicked at her little star, intent on prying it open. Becky squeezed my head sternly as my tongue began to penetrate her anal ring. Her constrictions only made me press harder into her while adding a third finger to her loosening cunt.

Her climax hit her hard, and I held on tight as she squirmed about, causing Susan to have another also. Then, with them both a bit exhausted, I removed my face from Becky's back door and slid up the bed alongside Susan. We kissed tenderly for a while as Becky continued to pleasure her puss gingerly.

Pulling her head away momentarily, Susan asked, "So, what did you do to her, but just as important, when do we get to the actual fucking?"

"Do you dislike having Becky's tongue between your legs?" I responded in question.

"Not at all. In fact, I wish that I'd allowed her to do that when she first tried. But, I would so like to feel your hard cock filling me up over and over again."

"Well, why don't you try giving Becky a little oral, and if you can make her cum then I'll fuck you first. How's that sound?" I queried.

Whispering, Susan asked, "But what if I don't like it?"

"Well, you won't know until you try, but I'm pretty sure that you'll love it as much as she does. So, why don't you two switch positions, and I'll help you get started."

Susan's hands went to Becky's head and raised it from her sodden crotch. "Come on up here, Baby. I want to kiss you before I taste your pussy."

Becky moved up quickly as I backed away to watch two people who were obviously in love entwine. The kiss was soft and loving, and it was as if I wasn't even there. Becky slipped a thigh between Susan's as they mashed their pelvises against each other. Nothing was urgent in their lovemaking while they were face to face. Instead, it was gentle, slow, and all-encompassing.

I sat back and watched for a few minutes, just letting them do their thing. I figured that it was probably difficult for them to get together and be so placid in their lovemaking, given that they both still lived at home and had siblings to contend with. Then, at one point, they both turned to me, and Susan ordered, "Hey you! You've got a couple of hot young women playing naked in your bed. You need to be naked too."

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied like a smartass while standing and doing a slow strip for my sexy audience. I teased them by removing my t-shirt rather slowly. However, when it came to my shorts, I whipped them down quickly, exposing my pulsing hard-on to my two lovely's. Susan reached out first, but I swatted her hand away. "I believe you have something else just as enticing to attend to first."

As soon as I said that, Susan rolled Becky onto her back, pinned her hands down, and began to nibble on her small breasts. Moving from one to the other, she managed, "Join me," with a quick stare at my cock.

I moved in and took over one tit while Susan lavished the other with her mouth. It seemed from watching Susan's work that Becky liked it rough, so I, too, brought my teeth to the game. Once I got going, Susan breathed, "You take over here." I watched as she quickly moved down Becky's torso and covered her pussy with her open mouth. Up until now, Becky's eyes had been mostly closed. But when she felt a mouth on her crotch, she opened them to see Susan worshipping her vagina, and she sighed.

As Susan's tongue swirled in Becky's leaking puss, she pulled away for a second, saying, "Okay, you both were right. She is delicious!" before diving back in. I swapped back and forth between Becky's rigid nipples as her legs slowly encompassed Susan's head and back. Finally, Becky's entire body began to shiver, and her ankles crossed behind Susan's head, pressing her even harder into her open cunt.  

As she ground onto Susan's face, Becky mumbled, "Bite it... bite my clit... gaaahhhddd!"  

Her grunt/howl exploded from her like the orgasm that wrenched her body into a twisted display. Becky's pelvis turned to her left while her torso heaved to the right. Her hands grabbed my head and jerked my face to hers while her thighs consumed Susan's head. I was briefly concerned with Susan's ability to breathe before my own breath was compromised as well.

Becky's lip-lock was compelling, to say the least, as our tongues danced and twirled inside each other's mouths. With our mouths entwined, my engorged penis was resting on her hip. The pre-cum oozing from its tip coated it as our kissing intensified. My fingers continued to work her nipples as her peak seemed endless. I didn't know what Susan was doing down there, but it was working.

After another hip-bucking surge, Becky pulled her lips from mine and begged, "No more! Both of you stop. Please."

Becky spread her legs to release Susan's head as I released her nipples. Becky panted furiously while Susan again took notice of my raging hardon. Susan's mouth moved eagerly from Becky's crimson puss to my plum pecker. She lapped at the tip, and when she'd taken in all the semen on my pole, she started licking it off of Becky's hip. When that was gone, Susan pushed me onto my back and moved between my legs. Then, up on all fours, Susan took me into her mouth to lick and suck.

A few minutes into Susan's first blowjob, Becky had calmed a little and moved onto her side, facing me. Initially, she just watched as I did. But as the spectacle of her girlfriend sucking me ensued, her own excitement increased. Rolling her chest onto mine, Becky began sucking my face again while tweaking my nipples. I was starting to feel really good but didn't want to waste my load on just one of them. So, I suggested to Becky, "Why don't you join Susan, and I'll show you what a male orgasm looks like up close?"

Once they worked in tandem, I pointed out the more sensitive areas to lick, including my scrotum. With a few pointers here and there, the girls were on their way to having their faces coated in warm cum. "Alright, my little blowjob pros, you are about to see a male orgasm up close and personal. Here it comes... Yesss!"

The first ejaculation hit Susan in the back of her mouth. Pulling back quickly, the second shot went into the air before landing on my chest. I watched Becky move up and take me in her mouth for the third and fourth spurts. Then, as she backed off a little, the two of them shared the last dribbles by licking either side of my shaft as I continued to shake.

I only softened a little in the aftermath due to their constant sucking and lapping of my penis. However, by the time they were done cleaning and sucking, I was at full mast again.  

"Okay, ladies, are you ready for more?"

Becky burst out with, "Are you ready to fuck us now?"

"Only if you are ready."

"Who goes first?" Susan inquired.

"It doesn't matter to me. In fact, if neither of you is ready, then we can wait for another day."

"Oh, hell no!" Becky yelled. "We both came here to learn about sexual intercourse from you. I'd love to go first unless Susan really wants to."

"While you two decide, I'm going to grab some condoms."

"Why are you getting condoms? We are both on the pill in preparation for playing at college." Susan asked.

"It's good to hear that you lovely ladies took the initiative to protect yourselves from pregnancy. But, as you know, there are many sexually transmitted diseases out there that cause a lot of problems."

"Do you have any of them" Becky inquired.

"No, but you should have some experience with the use of condoms and should always insist on them being used whenever you're with someone new. If you want to do this again at a later date, then we'll talk about me going bareback. But, just remember that no form of birth control is one hundred percent effective."

"We know all of that, and we knew that you would remind us of that too. So why do you think we came to you in the first place?" Susan countered.

"Because I'm a hot middle-aged guy?" I joked.

"Yes, that too. But also because you treat women very well by all that we've heard and experienced so far," Becky answered with a sly little grin.

While I headed to the bathroom to grab a couple of condoms, I heard the whispers flying back and forth between my young paramours. In order to give them another minute to work out their decision, I pretended to have misplaced the willy wrappers. When at last all was quiet, I headed back in to gaze upon my two naked beauties. "So, who goes first," I queried.

Susan started, "Since we both want to go first, we decided on a contest." Becky continued, "We are going to get into a sixty-nine, and whoever cums first loses. What do you think?"

"I think that's a win, win, win. You two get to pleasure each other, and I get to watch it all."

As they settled into a side-by-side, I sat on the bedside to enjoy their mutual indulgence. My initial view was of Susan's head between Becky's legs. Her tongue glided from Becky's clit to her pucker and back again. After only thirty seconds or so, I saw Susan's eyes turn to slits and her head shiver as she stopped. Then, moving around the bed to Becky's face in Susan's crotch, I noticed Becky was fingering Susan's ass rather aggressively. I had a feeling that Becky was going to be the winner very soon.

As I was moving back around to see the look on Susan's face, I saw that she was near climax. Then out of nowhere, Becky suddenly screamed into Susan's crotch. Sly little Susan began gnawing on her Becky's clit like a piece of chewing gum. Becky convulsed wildly, and her scream continued while she soaked Susan's face.

As they parted in the afterglow of Susan's win, I offered Becky this thought, "You may have lost this round. But because of coming here today, you got your girlfriend to eat your pussy for the first time. And, she's made you cum at least twice from doing that. So, I ask you, are there any real losers today?"

"Not in the least. Feeling her tongue and teeth in and on my pussy was the best. I'll enjoy watching you take her virginity as I relish the thought of her mouth on my sex," Becky replied.

Susan moved her face to Becky's and kissed her hard before offering this, "From now on, I'll lick you whenever you ask. I love the taste of you, Becks!"  

Moving onto her back, Susan gleefully said, "Fuck me, Dennis!"

To be continued...

[boleyn-falcon]

Unlikely Shepard

So here it is! i finally finished the one-shot for @moan-jeutas with the prompt “you’re bleeding” with reluctant caretaker Jane and Joan!

synopsis - Joan is sick and the Ladies in waiting call in a very reluctant Jane Seymour to handle it while they are doing the show for things to just take a bad turn. 

Trigger warnings - Vomiting, illness, blood/pus, open wound, skin picking/scratching - tell me if i need to add anymore!

words - 3012

 Joan had been insisting that she was fine for about a week, that was clearly a lie. For the past few days she's been running fevers,aching, having headaches, all of those kinds of things but still came to work as if she was right as rain. She was about as “right” as a category five hurricane on a small island. Joan thought if she didn't show up to work they would fire her and everyone would hate her, so she had never missed a day of work. She woke up around 7 as normal, but right as she began to get out of bed a searing pain shot through her abdomen. She was taken aback by this, literally and metaphorically and fell back onto her bed. ‘Shit that's not good’, the pianist thought, she tried to stand once more but all she managed to do was fall face first onto her carpet. All that came out of her was a low grunt and pained “Ow-damnit”. She laid there for a solid five minutes to see if the pain would subdue but it just got worse and worse.

She eventually, but very slowly, made it to the kitchen to see Maria making her morning coffee. She stumbled past her and to the cabinet to grab some ibuprofen but was stopped by the drummer in her tracks. “Are you okay Palomita? You don’t look well, should we call in the-”, Maria was stopped mid sentence by the blonde. “No no! Heh don’t worry, im fine, yep completely okay to work”, right as she finished her sentence another wave of sharp pains hit her like a truck, causing her knees to give out. She hit the tile with a small whisper-like attempt at a shriek that just came out as a pained squeal and wrapped her arms around her torso. Maria was quick to grab her bridal style and get her to the couch with the pain killers and a glass of water.

Right as Joan is settled onto the coach Bessie and Maggie finally decide to come down stairs. “Shit is Joey okay?”, Maggie said worriedly as she picked up her pace and found her way to her friend’s side on the couch. “No, i'll call in and say that me and her need to stay home today”, Maira stopped as she heard a groan to her side, “No i promise i'm fine just-”, “No Joan, your staying whether you like it or not”, Bessie said firmly. Bessie turned and walked into the kitchen as she began to call someone. “Hey Seymour you know how you have a lot of free days saved up?... Yea so do you mind coming over for a  day and watching Joan?.. Okay thanks, she was just ill and all, yea text me when you're on your way over”. The rest of the ladies looked to the black haired bassist with confusion, waiting for her to explain. “Jane is going to stop by for the day to take care of Joan while we are at the show”, Bessie said nonchalantly. “Wait”, the drummer started. “ how’d you convince her to do that so easily?”, “Well she owed me one so yea she was hesitant but she didn't really argue it” .

You would think the timid blonde would love the idea of Jane coming over to take care of her right? Well sort of, Joan loved to idea of spending time with Jane, but she doesnt wanna be clingly or say somthing stupid to make Jane hate her. The anxiety bubbling in her stomach only got worse a few minutes later as she heard knocking at the door, she knew exactly who it was. All Joan could really do is curl up in a ball with her blanket over her head like a child hiding from a monster under her bed. She thought if she just imagined Jane wasn't even there it would make things better, she was wrong.

Maggie got up from her friend’s side to answer the door, she only hoped the Queen could help. She opened the door to see the Blonde queen with a duffle bag and an unreadable expression. “Heh heeey Jane, come on in..”, the burnette opened the door more to let her in. Jane immediately went over to the bassist who was sitting on the floor next to the couch. “So what symptoms does she have? Anything like fever or vomiting?”,Bessie got to her feet to get eye to eye with the taller women, “All we really know is that she’s in pain and as pale as an egg shell”, a small groan came from the mound covered in blankets on the couch from being compared to an egg. Jane just tilted her head and gave a confused look to the raven-haired woman. “ Wait wait, so you called me over to skip a day of work to take care of some cramps and her complection?”, Jane asked with an unamused tone,looking over to the pile of pianist on the small couch. Bessie gave a disgruntled look to the queen, “well she’s obviously in pain and needs to be looked after so nothing bad happens and you have the most vacation days… and remember the streetlight Seymour”. Jane gave a defeated look as she set her stuff down on the floor near the coffee table. Maira and Maggie just gave confused glances but decided not to question what ‘the streetlight’ was.

The next few minutes was just the Ladies in Waiting, minus Joan of course, getting ready for the day and Jane setting up the living room for the day. Maggie slyly shuffled into Bessie’s dimly lit room and gave out a small ‘ahem’ noise to signal her presence in the room. The shorter girl turned around and shot her friend a small smile, “Hey Mags what's up? Need a hair tie or something?”. Maggie gave a worried look to her bandmate, “Do you think Joey will be okay? I know Jane will be here and all but I'm still a bit worried..”, the bassist walked forward to put a reassuring hand on the guitarist’s shoulder, “Don’t worry yourself Mag, she’ll be okay, trust me okay?”, Maggie gave a slight nod and a small smile as she left the room to continue changing.

Maria was having her own little bit of worry. She finished her hair and clothes as soon as she could so she could check on her little dove. She knew how Jane and Joan’s relationship was, Jane was cold towards the clingy girl most of the time but she knew there was some part of the queen there that loved the girl dearly, she just had to let it out. The drummer also hoped Joan wouldn’t get too anxious and make herself even sicker and make things worse. She saw it before on Cathrine’s deathbed, the more worried she got, the more her sickness consumed her. She just didn’t want a repeat of what happened all those centuries ago. She quickly walked down the stairs to find Joan still in her small blanket caccoon and Jane in thier pantery. Maria walked over to the pantry where Jane seemed to be searching for something. The curly haired woman reached over and shut the door to the pantry and guided the queen over to the fridie and pulled out a container of soup. The taller woman gave a confused look as she was handed what she was looking for, “It’s broccoli and cheddar, her favorite” Maria then  grabbed a lone spoon from the counter and handed it over. “Huh funny, it’s Anne’s favorite too”, Maria cut her off slightly, “Maggie’s too, I guess Anne and her ladies all had a similar taste in soups”. Jane poured the container as the gears in her head started to turn, ‘oh yea Joan was one of Anne’s maids of honor’, she finished warming up the soup and walked into the living room to find the rest of the band waiting. “So”, the Bassist started, “We are off but make sure to take good care of her Seymour, if not you know what will happen”, both women gave a knowing look, still leaving the other two muscians confused as ever.

Maggie bent down to the bundle of blankets and gave it a nudge. A mess of blonde hair popped up from the blankets with a grumpy look that quickly changed as she saw who had disturbed her. “How you feelin’ Joey? Any better?”, Joan only gave a small huff and a sad look back at her friend. Maggie then revealed what she had in her hand to her sick comrade, a teal hoodie with a black guitar on the front. She handed it out towards the sickly girl who quickly grabbed it. “We’ll be back soon, little Roo”, Maggie gave a smile as Joan held the hoodie close with a barely audible ‘thank you’.

The band finally left with a choir of ‘Love you’’s and ‘get better’’s. Jane finally got a chance to sit down and assess the situation. She sat the hot soup bowl down with a napkin and a spoon on the coffee table in front of Joan, ready to get to work. “Okay Joan, how are you feeling? Can you let me feel your temperature so I can see if I need to give you anything for a fever or not?”, Joan anxiously sat up from her blanket cocoon to finally address Jane. She bit her lip shyly as she decided to actually speak to her queen. “W-well I've been having waves of really bad pain in my stomach a-and I’m kinda nauseous, oh yea-yea you can check my temperature”, the pianist gave a worried glance to the older woman as she leaned forward and touched her lips to her forehead. Jane’s head shot back in surprise, “Joan you're practically on fire! You gotta take all of those blankets off, and go change out of those fuzzy pajamas and into a tank top and shorts”. The pale girl got up carefully and slowly made her way up the stairs to her room so she could change.

‘Jeez’ Jane thought, ‘It can't be that bad, I mean colds happen all the time she could have probably handled this herself, yea she completely could’. Jane places all of her cold medicines on the coffee table and walks into the kitchen to find an ice pack to put on the younger girl’s head till her fever let up. Right as she reaches the freezer she hears a large ‘thunk’ come from up stairs. Jane first thought nothing of it till she got back to the living room with a mickey mouse ice pack in hand, realizing Joan has been changing for 8 minutes now. She put the ice pack down and walked up the stairs to Pianist’s room to find the girl sprawled out on the carpet. She had only some navy athletic shorts on and a sports bra with a white tank top a few feet away from her body. As Jane bent down to get the girl up she noticed she had begun shivering like it was below freezing. She quickly scooped the girl up in her arms and speedily got her to the couch to lay her down. Her eyes were half open but also seemed pained. The now concerned caregiver put the small ice pack on the girl’s burning forehead and nodged the girl’s shoulder. “Joan..? can you talk to me at all?”, the sickly girl only gave a small whimper as she closed her eyes and dozed off. The motherly queen was originally very reluctant to help the clingy young girl, but her worsening state made her a lot more concerned for the poor girl’s health. She was slightly glad Joan could get some rest for that would surely help.. Right?

About 3 hours passed and the pale MD was still passed out. Jane had eventually put the soup back in the fridge and started reading a book on her phone, waiting for the girl to wake. The queen finally took a break from her novel and started to give the sick girl a good look to find anymore concerning symptoms she may have when she spotted something odd. She got closer to get a better look to only find a gnarly scab right above the girl’s hip. The area around it was raw and red, with even a hint of green and white showing infection. A lightbulb finally went off in her head, ‘This isn't a normal cold, it's an infection caused by this wound, but how did it happen?’. The older woman was put out of her train out thought by Joan stirring in her sleep. The stirr soon turned into thrashing as her legs started to kick and silent tears streamed down her face. Jane quickly jumped into action, she took the sick musician by the shoulders and shook her. “Wake up Joan! C’mon wake up!”, Joan’s eyes shot open and she started to trash even more to break out of the blonde’s grip. Her hands found their way to her damaged hip and began to scratch relentlessly.

Jane quickly grabbed the girl’s wrists and pinned them above her head, but it was too late. “You’re… bleeding”, the wound on Joan’s hip had been reopened by the scratching and started to bleed and ooze pus. The MD began to sob uncontrollably and hyperventilate. The blonde queen finally let go of Joan’s wrist to grab some antiseptic and large plasters. Before Jane could stop her, Joan got up and attemped to get to the bathroom but collapsed half way there and threw up onto the wooden floor. Jane was extremely overwhelmed, she set the medical supplies down and walked over to joan and tried to sit her upright so she wasn't lying next to her own bile on the floor. She grabbed the napkin in her pocket and cleaned Joan’s mouth, she carried the ill girl over to the toilet in case she needed to get more out. The older blonde quickly walked back to grab the medical supplies so she could clean up the infected wound as soon as she could.

The choked sobs of the pale girl continued until she felt arms wrap around her. “It's okay Little Lamb, you’ll be okay just calm down for me”, Jane’s soft voice made Joan’s sobs slowly diminish and just turned into a silent cry. The pair sat there for a solid ten minutes, all Jane did was whisper comforting words and keep her hold on Joan, making sure she had time to calm down.

The queen carried the MD back to her spot on the couch and handed her Maggie’s jacket to hold while she cleaned up the bile from the floor. When she returned she had a bottle of antiseptic and a towel in her hands. Joan gave a confused and worried look to her caregiver. “Okay Joan can you turn on your side for me sweetheart?”, the pianist hesitantly obliged, Jane put the towel on the couch and Joan’s lower back area and sighed. “This is going to hurt a bit Little Lamb.. I promise it’ll be over soon but i have to do this ..”, the concerned woman poured the antiseptic on the infected gash and Joan let out a heart wrenching shriek that shook the house. The wounded girl squirmed and held tightly onto the teal hoodie in her arms as she tried not move even more than she already was. Jane continued to clean the bloody and pus covered wound to the best of her ability and finished it off with a large plaster.

After a few minutes Jane sat next to the ill girl and put a comforting arm around her,“I know that you probably don’t wanna talk about it but i'll ask anyway, but why Joan? What caused you to do this to yourself?”. Joan shuffled uncomfortably but she figured she might as well tell the queen the truth, she did just clean up her throw up after all, she deserved the truth. “I...I just get so sacred and so anxious, it just happens I guess, it's an outlet of sorts”, Jane gave a concerned glance, “But why are you so scared and anxious? Is something going on Little Lamb?”. The pianist paused but decided to spill her guts, “Everyone hates me i just know it, I’m too helpless and too clingy… and if i can’t do my job right people are gonna hate me even more then they will fire me and then i'll be useless…”. Jane stared silently at the girl next to her for a moment and thought, ‘Had Joan really been suffering this much? Was her coldness making this all worse? This needs to change and it needs to change now’.  Jane wrapped Joan in a bear hug as the sick blonde began to silently cry again.

“Joan”, Jane started slowly, “You need to listen, no one hates you, I promise, not any of the queens and especially not your girls. We all love you very much Joan, we care about you so very much, we will always be here for you”, she finished with a soft smile. She held Joan tight and kissed her temple as the ill girl began to calm down. “So how about we watch some movies? Will that help at all Little Lamb?”, Joan nodded and looked up at the queen, “Can we watch Aritocats..?”, Jane nodded and turned on the Tv and put on the movie. They laid back comfortably and started to watch. Joan moved to lay on Jane’s chest and that's how she stayed till her bandmates came home to find her sleeping while Jane continued her book.

“Good job Seymour, thank you”, Bessie whispered as she moved the tired blonde from Jane to her room. The Taller women gave a small smile as she left, thankful that she helped the ill girl when she needed it most.

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

wow okay I stayed up till 5AM to finish this while also drugged up on adderall and I think it actually turned out kinda good, i mean i still suck at writing but hey what can’ya do? and its my first angsty kinda fic so it prolly sucks more lol

#six #six the musical #six musical #fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour #six joan #joan on the keys #joan meutas #maggie lee #maggie on the guitar #bessie blount #bessie on the bass #maria on the drums #maria de salinas #six ladies in waiting #ladies in waiting #LIW

[sunmoonandeddie]

at long last

pairing: thor odinson x reader

word count: 3,404

summary: Thor has mistakes that he’s been longing to fix.

chapter warnings: swearing, thor making grabby hands at the reader.

a/n: So this was written for @littlemarvelfics‘s 1.1K Follower Challenge!  Congratulations!  My prompt was “What would you think of me now?” (’Hear You Me’ by Jimmy Eat World) and I have it bolded.  Let me know what you guys think!

“You’ve forgotten how to revel.”

Thor looked up from his mug, the mead inside barely touched since the celebrations had started two hours before.  He had been trying to cut back on his bad habits since getting back to New Asgard after the Final Battle with Thanos.

Unfortunately, that included drinking.

“I’m unsure what you are talking about.  I am perfectly content,” he said.  But even as he stared up into Brunnhilde’s eyes, he knew it was a lie.

She knew that it was a lie, too, if the way her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed over her chest was anything to go by.  “Thor, you can have a drink or two,” she said as she sat down next to him, pulling out one of the tall bar stools and plopping down into it.  “I know that you’re trying to get back to who you think you should be, but—”

“It has nothing to do with liquor.”  He winced as he realized that it had come out a little snappier than he had meant it to.

“That’s no way to speak to your queen,” she said, but the glint in her eyes let him know that she wasn’t serious.  The woman leaned on the table on her elbows, her eyes scanning the crowd to try to find where his mind had gone.  From where they were sitting, they could see the entire bar.  “So…  Out with it. What does it have to do with?”

He didn’t reply as he finally picked up his mug and gulped over half of it down.  “Mistakes that I never took the time to fix,” he said after slamming it back down, the table shaking.

“Oh, you do know how much I love when you talk in riddles.”

Thor let out a deep sigh, his eyes automatically finding who he’d been watching all night.

And Brunnhilde wasn’t blind.  She could see where his eyes landed, and her eyebrows went almost up to her hairline.  “A girl?”

“She’s not just a girl,” he hissed, his cheeks going red as he realized his mistake.  But he always was overly protective over you.

He watched as you stood with two of your friends, two other women he vaguely remembered seeing around the Palace back in Asgard.  You were wearing Midgardian clothing as opposed to your usual gowns.

He liked it.  He liked seeing you with your hair down, wearing a tank top and leggings. Back on Asgard, he’d never seen you in something so formfitting or revealing.

It was both a blessing and a curse.

“Then who is she?”

You took a deep breath before stepping into the Great Hall, holding a bottle of mead to refill the cups of Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.  You could only hope that Thor wouldn’t need one yet, though you highly doubted you would be so lucky.

The Great Hall was filled to the brim with the people of Asgard, celebrating the return of their heroes.

Heroes.

More like overly zealous, sword happy children, in your eyes.

How you longed for the days of your childhood, before all the victories had gotten to your Prince’s head.  Before you had begun work in the Palace, you’d accompanied your mother.  She had been a maid and the royal family was gracious enough to allow her to bring you with her.  Your father had been one of Odin’s mighty warriors, and after he’d died in battle, there had been no one to take care of you while she was at work, since your father had always sat you on the sidelines while he trained during peace times.

It was one of the days that she had brought you to the palace that you had met Thor.  He was a few years older than you, at about five hundred years old.  You’d only had your three hundred fifty-second birthday a few weeks before.

You’d wandered off from the laundry room, where your mother had been washing the royal family’s clothes with a few of the other maids.  The halls were long, with ceilings that you were certain must be a million feet high.

“Who are you?”

You’d whirled around, eyes wide, to see a boy with hair as yellow as the flowers outside your house.  “Who are you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”  You’d put your hands on your hips, pouting.  “And father said I’m a lady, and everyone has to answer to ladies.”

The boy crossed his arms over his chest.  “Well, I’m a prince!”

“BUTTERCUP!”

You’d turned to see your mother racing down the hall, toing the line of what was considered proper.  Her eyes—a mirror of your own—were blown wide with terror.  “Mother!”

She pulled you away from the boy, before curtseying deeply.  “My apologies, my Prince.  She didn’t—”

“What’s going on?”

Your mother’s face had gone paler than you’d ever seen it as a woman who looked quite similar to the boy appeared.  “My Queen, please accept my apology.  She didn’t know any better.  I’ll make sure this never happens again.”

“Don’t take her away!”  All of you turned to look at the boy, who was watching you with watery eyes.  “I want her to be my friend, mother!”

And your mother didn’t know how to respond to that, but you had lit up.  You hugged him tightly, his arms wrapping around you as you clutched onto each other. “Please, mother!” You begged.

The queen had a fond smile as she looked at the two of you, her hands gently folding in front of her.  “You are one of the palace maids, correct?  Your husband, Alrik, died in battle,” she said.  She was clearly directing her questions towards her, but her eyes never strayed from you.  “I remember seeing you braiding flowers into little crowns when the men were training.”  She looked back at your mother.  “Your daughter is welcome here at any time. She may play with my sons whenever she wishes.”

Your mother breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thank you, my Queen.  Thank you.”

The boy turned to you, his smile brighter than the Bifrost.  “I’m Thor.”

“I’m Buttercup!”

His nose scrunched as he giggled, his hand reaching down to grab yours before the two of you took off running down the hall. “Is that your real name?”

“No, but my mother calls me that because of the flowers outside our house.”

“I like it!”  He stopped suddenly, turning to you.  “Can I tell you a secret?” He said quietly, and you were surprised at how blue his eyes were.

“If you’re trying to whisper, you’re not very good at it,” you said softly, covering your mouth as you giggled.  “But yes!  I’m good at keeping secrets.”

He leaned down, cupping his hands around your ear so only you could hear him.  “I’m going to marry you.”

But that had all been hundreds of years ago. When you had turned one thousand, one hundred twenty-six, you’d begun to work at the palace as a maid, too.  There’d been no more running through the palace with Thor and Loki, or attending lessons with them.  There would be no more ballgowns gifted to you just so you could spend the night dancing away with your golden-haired prince during the grand feasts and balls.

Now, seventy-one years later, you were a shadow, flitting about the crowds and ensuring no one’s cups or plates went empty.

And you wouldn’t have been forced to work so early if your mother hadn’t died.  But illness had taken her from you, long before her rightful time, and you were alone. You were lucky that the palace offered you work and servant’s quarters.

Not everyone was as lucky.

Thor let out a guffaw, slapping his leg.  His cup had been full of mead since midafternoon, when he and his friends got back from another one of their adventures. They’d defeated yet another foe and lived to tell the tale, a story that would no doubt become one in thousands.

You kept your head down as you approached the table, trying to avoid were the blond warrior was seated in the middle.  “My Lord,” you said, bowing your head as you refilled Volstagg’s cup.

“THERE SHE IS!”

You winced, shrinking into yourself.  You tried to step away, but Thor’s hands grabbed at your waist before you could, and he pulled you onto his lap.  “My Prince—”

He grinned cheekily at you as his fingers dug into your hips.  “My little Buttercup, I’ve missed you,” he said.  His hot breath fanned across your face, smelling of mead.

“My Prince,” you started again, your cheeks reddening as you realized everyone could see you.  They could see you being manhandled like the whores brought in to entertain the warriors after their victories.  “Please—"

One of his hands moved to press flat against your back, his other moving to your thigh and squeezing.  “Missed touching you,” he purred, his head nuzzling your chest.  His lips trailed over whatever bare skin he could find, finding their way to your neck.

“My Prince—”

His fingers gripped your skirts, pulling at them as he kissed your neck.

You were sure that people had noticed by now. They had to.

Your eyes widened as you heard the sound of fabric ripping, looking down to see that he’d ripped your skirt.

Before you could properly react, he let out a booming laugh and ripped it to the hem, creating a slit that hadn’t been there before.  The men around you leered and urged him on, gone stupid with the amount of mead in their veins.

When you felt his hand move through the slit to grab your bare thigh, you let out a scream, pushing him.  He was so shocked by the outburst that he lost his grip and you fell to the floor.

Not that you minded.  Anything to be out of his filthy hands.

The entire Great Hall had gone completely silent as they all stared at you.  Your chest was heaving against the confines of your dress, your hands desperately holding your skirt closed.  It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Thor stared at you with shining eyes, his smile long gone.  He reached towards you to help you up off the ground.  “Buttercup, I—”

You pushed yourself back away from him, getting out of his reach before you stood on your own.  “Do not touch me!”

And despite your words, he reached for you again.

“Thor—” Lady Sif began as she stood, her eyes narrowing.  She stood between the two of you, clearly ready to protect you against him.  Even though he was her friend, she was also a woman.

Thinking quickly, you snatched the dagger from Lady Sif’s sheath and pointed it at him, effectively stopping him.  “If you ever put your hands on me again, I will cut them off.  I care not that you’re a prince.  You are nothing more than a savage.  A barbarian.”

He stared at you with watering blue eyes, something that looked a little like remorse swimming in their depths.

Loki, who had been sitting further down the table, stood and made his way towards you.  “You’ve done enough, brother,” he snapped, glaring at the man.  He quickly cast a glamor over your skirt in an effort to protect some of your modesty.  His hand gently touched your shoulder, taking care to not startle you.  “Go.”

The hand holding the dagger was trembling as you took in a teary breath.  If you didn’t get out of there quick, everyone would see you cry, and the rest of your dignity would be gone.  With a final glance at Thor, you allowed the dagger to fall to the floor, the metal clattering loudly against the stone, before you turned on your feet and fled the Great Hall.

The younger prince stared at his brother with disgust written plainly across his face.  He’d grown up with you just as much as Thor had, and it pained him to see you treated in such a way.  The man had always been so kind, so tender with you, but his ego had tainted even the best part of him.  His hands clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to finish your threat for himself and cut off his brother’s hands.  “You have grown into even more of a brute than I thought.”

“You should talk to her,” Brunnhilde said after she heard the long, drawn out story that she honestly thought could’ve been summarized with “I got drunk and treated the girl I’ve been in love with since childhood like she was nothing more than a play thing.”

Thor scoffed, shaking his head as he continued to watch you.  He had no right to speak to you—or even look at you—after what he had done.  Even though he’d realized how he’d treated you was wrong the second you’d had to stop him by literally screaming, the true gravity of the situation hadn’t set in until he woke up the next morning.

He’d hurt you.  His precious Buttercup.  The one person he’d sworn to never harm, and even though he’d made that vow as a child, he’d taken it seriously his entire life.

“She doesn’t want to speak to me, and I can’t blame her.”

Brunnhilde huffed as she stared at him.  It was clear that he’d grown from who he was, that he regretted what he did with ever fiber of his being.  “Thor, how long has it been?”

He blinked at her, his brows furrowing.  “What?”

“How much time has passed since that day?”

Thor swirled the amber liquid in his mug.  “Two hundred and sixteen years…”

She looked at him as though he’d grown two heads, and shoved him.  “Two hundred and sixteen years?!  Are you shitting me?!”  She narrowed her eyes at him and slid off the bar stool.  “If you won’t, then I will.”

Before he could stop her, she was marching across the bar, making a beeline straight for you.

Thor felt a panic rise in his chest and bolted, heading out into the night air.  The last thing he needed was your rejection.

The Norwegian air was cool against his skin, his face hot and red.  He walked and walked until he reached one of the cliffs overlooking the sea.

He liked it here.  He did.  He liked hearing the waves crash up against the rocks, see the Earth’s moon reflected on the water.  The only other time he’d seen stars so bright was when he’d been on the Guardian’s spaceship.

“You’ve washed your hair.”

He jumped, whirling around in surprise.  He hadn’t known that anyone had followed him. His heart sank when he realized it was you.

“Last time I saw you, your hair was greasier than that one place Korg likes to go—McDonald’s, I think it is?”  You were trying to joke with him, but when he didn’t laugh, you cleared your throat.  “Brunnhilde told me that you wish to speak to me,” you said, your voice soft and smooth as honey.  Your voice had always been the sweetest music to his ear, like a symphony.

“I-I apologize,” he stammered, looking down at the ground.  “She… She can be quite the meddler.  I shall…  I shall go now.”

“Why?”

He froze in place, swallowing as he stared down at his hands.  He didn’t dare look in your eyes, as much as he wanted to.  If he did, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d turn into a blubbering mess.  “I treated you horrifically.  I have denied myself of your presence in order to not make you… uncomfortable.  I know what I did was unforgivable.”

“Thor, I forgave you long ago.”

At that, he did look up.  His blue eyes were blown wide with disbelief, but he found no signs of a lie in your face.  “You… Why would you forgive me?”

You rubbed your arms, trying to protect yourself against the chill in the air.  As nice as your tank top had been inside the bar, with all of the bodies inside keep you warm, the late spring night air still held remnants of winter.

“Here,” Thor said suddenly, pulling off his cardigan. He wrapped it around your shoulders, his heart warming as he watched it swallow you.

He liked seeing you in his clothing.

“Thank you,” you said, cheeks warming as you wrapped it tightly around you.  Your eyes drifted out over the ocean, watching the white caps come and go.  “I watched as you were banished by your father for what you had become.  It broke my heart, despite knowing it was what you needed.  I…  I missed who you were when we were growing up.  But you allowed all your victories to get to your head, and the blame isn’t solely on you.”

He was completely silent beside you, hanging on to every word while at the same time wondering where you were going with this.

“Everyone worshipped the ground you walked on.  And you were so young, it’s no wonder that you grew prideful,” you said.  “I thought you a beast at the time.”

“You were right in that,” he said with a weak laugh. “And…  What would you think of me now?”

A small smile flit across your face.  “I watched you come back, worthy of your title and your powers.  I watched you put others before yourself and you…  You became the boy I grew up with again.”

“I have loved you since we were children.  Since that very first moment I saw you,” he admitted, his cheeks a soft pink.  “At that feast…  When I laid eyes on you, all I could think was that you were mine and that if I didn’t lay my claim, some other man would have snatched you up.  You have always been the most radiant woman, and it would be foolish for me to assume that someone else hadn’t see as such.”

Your mouth hung open, your eyes soft as you looked at him.  “I wish you had simply spoken to me about your feelings.  You made me…  You made me think that you saw me as nothing more than a common whore.  One of the women of the night that always warmed your bed after your victories.”

“I know, and I apologize—”

“But I still loved you.”

He stopped, finding himself once again in shock. How did you always manage to surprise him?

“I knew that the man you could grow to be—the man you are now—was always within you,” you said, nervously playing with the sleeves of his cardigan.  “And even when you were in your darkest hours, I still loved you.”

“And now?” He asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he took a step towards you.  “Would you have me now?  Even though I am… this?”  He motioned to his body, feeling a small wave of embarrassment.  He was not the warrior he thought you deserved anymore, but then again, it would seem that you didn’t want that kind of man.

“Thor, I would have you whatever way you come to me,” you murmured, looking up at him through your long lashes.  “Whether you look the way you did back then or the way you do now, you are still the most handsome, worthy man I’ve ever met.”

He took a step closer, so that the two of you were chest to chest.  His large hand tentatively cupped your face.  His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up again.  “… May I?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your arms moving to wrap around his neck as his lips slotted against yours.

It was everything he ever dreamed of and more. He kept it soft and sweet, his free arm wrapping around your waist when you pushed yourself closer to him.  You were soft and pliant in his arms, like the flowers you loved so much.

When he finally pulled away, he nuzzled his nose against yours.  “I love you so much, my dear.”

“I love you, too.”  You giggled, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.  “But you still have a lot of making up to do,” you teased.

“I intend to spend the next three thousand years doing so.”

#thor x reader #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x y/n #thor fic #thor odinson fic #rachels1.1kchallenge

[blankdblank]

Loki Baby Pt 16

Use of poem by Atticus

.

@theincaprincess​​, @alishlieb​​, @lilith15000​, @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​,

…

“Wow,” Peter remarked peering up at Asgard on the courtyard at the edge of the Bifrost, “I thought Thor said-,”

Loki, “Thor hasn’t checked in since Hela was killed. Mother has been working hard to guide repair on our kingdom.” He motioned his hand to the side keeping his other on your dangling wrist and palm, “This way.”

Steve, “Why?”

Loki looked at him, “You aren’t the only one who would like to go back and change their decisions. For us who are old enough to know better and who is watching, it takes time to heal from our wounds and regrets.”

Steve, “Hard to imagine you have regrets.”

Loki scoffed, “Spend time getting to know me unattached to my entrance into your lives in New York and you might be surprised I am comprised of being more than Thor’s brother.”

Steve, “No doubt Stark loves that argument.”

Loki, “Wouldn’t know, moved in with Jaqi few months back.”

Steve pointed at you, “Jaqi? Great, psychopath and a time traveler under one roof.”

Jack said, “That’s not very nice to say. Jaqi might have to be detached at times but she’s no psychopath. No matter who her mother is.” He glanced at Steve who raised a brow at Loki, and Jack said, “Oh come on, open your eyes, Loki is a boy scout compared to us.”

Steve, “No doubt, she aimed a gun at a baby.”

Ronan ensured his ships were fanning out around the planet and joined you saying, “After she emptied the clip into her pocket, child.”

Steve, “Why do you keep calling me that?!”

Ronan replied flatly, “You whine like one.” Peter chortled then glanced up at the lines of guards who approached lining the wall with two opening a doorway for you bowing their heads and greeting Loki as King making Steve’s lips part. Ronan caught his stare and stated, “For being supposedly close to Prince Thor you know little of his culture. Even I am aware Queen Frigga is merely Regent for King Loki.”

Steve, “Then why were you on Earth?”

Loki, “I was trapped. Rocket doesn’t trust me on his ship, we had an unfortunate accident the last time we crossed paths. A bit sore on allowing me passage since.” Steve pointed at you again and he stated, “She is not my ship and until recently she was stranded on earth as well.”

Peter glanced back seeing the ship still sitting there locked asking, “The ship isn’t hiding?”

Jack, “No need here.”

Bustling into the hall with supplies for your new guest quarters Asgardians eyed your bleeding body slumped against your father’s chest unconscious on the stroll through the golden and marble palace all the way to the bathhouses for the public guests. The King’s hand locked in yours added to the source of the urgency to the unannounced arrival with little to no warning.

Part of their spa area was already filled with Healers and two of them were adding tea leaves to a boiling pot over the stack of steaming rocks. Right to the bench in the center you were taken and Jack said, “You’re gonna want to step out fellas.” Loki was the first to step out guiding the Healers with him into the hall to turn and watch. Emptying your pockets into his while Loki and Peter’s eyes traveled to your parted lips in a golden mist freeing exhale as Steve eyed the golden cloud glimmering around your splayed our palm dangling off the bench.

Once he was certain you were in a steady position he grabbed the pot and dumped it over the steaming rocks leaving it on the rack as he guided the Healers and Prince alike back stating, “There you go, Pumpkin.”

The door closed between you and through the cloud of steam a faint golden glow was spotted swirling around your deeply inhaling body. The following exhale however had an explosion of golden light crashing into each wall making the Healers and Loki flinch that suddenly in what seemed to be a muffled groan Loki asked, “Do we go in?”

Jack shook his head, “Best give her some time to soak it in some more, then I can change her out of those clothes and get her into a bed to sleep it off.”

Steve, “And how long will that take?” Jack’s head turned seeing the silently hovering Reaper watching him and Tasha from the corner of the hall ceiling.

Ronan, “They will not harm you under her watch. They can sense she is healing.”

Steve, “She, do I even want to know why they trust her?”

Jack glanced at him, “That’d be from me. I’m a fixed point in time she’s half mine they have a similar resonance in the time stream.” Steve’s brow inched up and he said, “You know like whale songs? We each give off our own through time, hers is close to their frequency, not the same language but they can charades it out to talk.”

Peter smirked up at one of them, “I think they sort of look like hammer head sharks over whales.”

Loki stole an amused glance at the teen replying, “Well maybe when she’s healed she can show you some space whales if you ask nicely.”

Peter’s mouth dropped open, “Space whales?!”

Loki, “Apparently Fantasia was not far off.”

Jack nodded, “Ooh, or even the creature inside the moon. Gorgeous.”

Peter, “In the moon?! Our moon?!”

Jack nodded whispering in a lean, “It’s an egg.” Making the teen squeak with excitement.

A held up projection screen from one of the Healers had the woman wielding it gasping as she saw your twin beating hearts easily through your back after your roll over to aid the bullet freeing itself from the nerve bundle it was lodged in. “The Frey truly have two hearts..” she murmured to herself.

Leaning in Steve’s brows furrowed, “Two hearts?!” Though Peter’s attention shifted to your skull clearly seeing your brain formed different than any human’s he had seen before glowing with flashes of glimmering gold throughout.

Jack chuckled, “See, how many psychopaths do you know have two hearts?”

Steve looked at him and Peter pointed to the brightest spot on your back asking, “What’s that?” Yet in his blink the light faded and he said, “Where’d it go?”

Ronan, “That was her wound.”

From behind he group a familiar voice sounded, “My King.”

Valkyrie had came around the corner and with a wide grin she took the task of escorting Peter and Steve around at Loki’s stating, “Ah, Valkyrie, If you wouldn’t mind escort around our mortals. And do see if you can do something about the largest child. At least the smell, if possible see if something can be done to make him more presentable.”

Steve’s brows dropped and he then turned and followed Val in her chuckling path away Peter was nearly skipping along at her side capturing video of on his phone. “Of course.”

Ronan curiously joined Sif off to inspect the room that would be prepped for you to inspect the security points they could set up around it. In Loki’s silence Jack said, “She’s tougher than she looks right now, bullet just clipped a bundle of nerves, or she’d be able to patch it up with my nannogens.”

Loki, “I know. Just trying to word how to explain our connection to Mother. We haven’t exactly shared that conversation yet.”

Jack chuckled saying, “You could always start with companion. Nice stepping stone to build on later for family when it gets more serious.”

“Loki,” the King’s head turned and his brow dropped and with a grin he turned to hug his mother mumbling sweetly to her. His eyes staying on her in her step back and upward glance at the growing number of Reapers, “I am glad you have returned, though,”

Again your body shifted and a slumbering sigh was heard making Jack smirk saying, “Now, time for bed.” Entering the door making Loki’s eyes narrow at the glimmer on your side seen before the screen was shut off as Jack lifted you again.

Loki replied to his mother, “They will not harm us as long as none strike at them. Merely guards ensuring Steve and his child are returned to the proper time.”

Jack exited the room again seeing K9 with a bag of clothes for you and nodded his head, “Thanks again Your Majesty,” surprisingly non flirtatious at all to Loki’s wonder, “Do apologize for our prisoner though, always was a wet blanket to situations he didn’t plan.”

Frigga shook her head stating in a glance at Loki’s hand brushing a strip of curls from your face, “I will show you to your suite.”

Jack, “Thank you. Shouldn’t be imposing long, day or so napping and right as rain feels like. Usually she feels prickly if it’ll take longer.”

Straight to the big towel coated bed he carried you and laid you across it helping the Healers in undressing you, him in your upper half while they started with your heeled boots. Loki and Frigga stood aside while the same Healer stole another chance to scan you for your full makeup now considerably less glimmering internally showing signs you were settling with a final golden misty exhale. Down to your black boy shorts and bra you laid while Jack passed the shorts to the ladies and cradled your head to lift you up to wiggle your tank top on you.

Loki’s eyes however sank to the watercolor blue feather on your right hip with a trail of 12 blue bird silhouettes in flight up your side clearly marking your centuries alive so far making him smirk at the reason for the glow on your side. Down the shirt was wiggled and in a scoop of his arm under your back the women were able to slide up your shorts for Jack to settle your shoulder on his lap easing the task of combing and drying your hair he propped you up against his folded legs to braid your hair.

Frigga tried not to chuckle as she said, “It appears you are used to this.”

Jack glanced at her with a chuckle of his own saying, “Oh you should have seen her as a little girl. Nonstop then just out for nearly a full day. Such an adorable little rag doll. Loves to sleep.”

Loki said, “Yes, she has rigged her furniture to spring her up if she won’t stand at her alarm.”

Jack let out a laugh, “Oh I suggested that, never thought she’d use it, but she does burn herself at both ends, or did, when Precious was grounded.”

Ronan entering from the balcony stated, “No signs of any ships on our scanners so far. Though we have noticed a cluster of asteroids have fled.”

Jack glanced up, “Asteroids?”

Ronan stated, “That is what their ion trails indicate.”

Jack mumbled, “Hmm, must be those kangaroo thieves again.” Lowering you back down onto the sheet the Healers pulled the towels off of. “At least they learned their lesson when Corsair had to regenerate last time.”

Frigga, “Corsair?”

Jack, “Ah, Jaqi’s godmother,” his brows scrunched in a glance at the year again on his watch and nodded, “Yes, still a she for another two centuries. She’s, well, let’s just say Jaqi’s gotten her fair share of devil may care from her as well.”

Loki, “Another Frey intake it?”

Jack chuckled to himself ensuring you were covered with a pillow poofed up under your head, “One the wildest. Went way back with her Mother.” And in a semi dreamy sigh he added, “And me, back in the Dark Tyensondor Ages on Langmern 7.”

.

“Who is this whose eyes even now sparkle through me like glass,

Stealing pieces of my soul as I stare through blurry shapes,

Her rippled laugh sends shivers down my spine with warm comfort,

A familiarity,

As if I’d spent a life with her already in a dream.

It was as if the universe had written this at the beginning of time,

And watched now high on clouds as it unfolded at last,

Smiling at my doubt,

As if there was any chance I could not love this girl for the rest of time.”

In the middle of Steve being cleaned up and Peter’s avid search of the rest of the kingdom with Valkyrie, Jack left Loki alone to freshen up himself allowing the King a time alone with you. Already stirring he was content to leave your side knowing you would be conscious by dinner time, at least for a few hours, and wouldn’t be long as Precious was finicky about having anyone inside her while under this protocol marked you as injured. A poem from the pocket sized book Loki had borrowed from your collection stirred a grin across his lips at how it seemed to fit his feelings perfectly.

“Good thing we’re in the present or that could have sent ripples in time, Prince-,” in a deep sigh you added through a shift of your shoulders urging him to lower his feet from the bed to stand and adjust your pillows under you adoring a lingering glimmer of gold in your glowing purple eyes. “Though I can’t call you Prince can I?”

Grinning at you he answered taking his seat again, “On Midguard you may call me what you will. Here, I may be King, however as well call me what you desire, Dearest.”

A breathy giggle from you escaped and you replied, “Then I will call you molten fudge cake,” making him chuckle in return, “I always crave chocolate after healing.”

Reaching out, with the book set aside, his hand cradled yours, “Are you in any pain?”

“Physically no.”

“You are ailing still?” Worry filling his eyes.

“Time is still screaming, it is so loud when I am healing.” Your eyes followed his lifting your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

From the doorway you heard a deep groan turning your gazes to Steve, now freshly trimmed of his ponytail and more than half of his beard wearing a tunic and trousers with a pair of boots. “Pardon me while I find a bucket.”

“You cleaned up well I imagine. Thankfully Asgardians wear looser clothing than humans do. Give you a chance to breathe without tearing a shirt for once.”

“Ha, ha. My sides are bleeding.” Steve walked closer making Loki lower your still joined hands to the bed while straightening up to hear what he had to say, “This is not fair for Tasha.”

“It wasn’t fair to George either. Or Peggy, or their children. And she prefers Sky Dancer not Tasha.”

Steve blinked at you, “Her name is Tasha, don’t try to be funny.”

“I’m not, you’re the one who doesn’t speak baby.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, “Baby?”

You nodded, “I also speak Dinosaur. And you would think that was a joke but even after waking up decades after your era you still have an imagination the size of a walnut.”

“Imagination-,” Steve huffed, “I just wanted to change things, for the better. All those illnesses-, the children-,”

“I know. You think I prefer to be the one to have destroyed the records of the vaccines and medications? No. But each discovery has a price and pathway to get there. Marie Curie for one, you think I enjoyed having to watch her die of radiation poisoning? No, she was the only one who could match me for skill in charades and had a wicked curve on ski ball. This choice is not fair, but life is,” his lips parted and you cut him off, “Because it is equally cruel to all in varying ways.” His lips clenched and you said, “You asked about my hearing time. Would you like to hear why the Reapers are after you?” A pat of the bed at your side had him sigh and tentatively draw closer to you and sit down with Tasha napping against his chest. Reaching up his eyes followed your hand then darted to your eyes at the settling of your fingertips across the side of his forehead.

Deep pulsing beats now laced with agonizing wails had Steve’s now wide tear filled eyes on you after his hand had swatted yours away. His break of contact leaving Loki’s mind echoing on the same sound he heard through his hold of your hand mingled with the cries and chirps of the Reapers melding into a song that had Steve glancing up at them in their now unheard tries to sing time back to a peaceful thump so they could sleep again. His eyes lowered to yours and he said, “That is-, you can still hear that?”

“I have, for years now. I can hear planets turning and stars ignite and crackle through time’s song, what I feel however, is far greater and harder to share. Simply that all of my being is fighting against hurling you from the tallest tower, it’s almost magnetic, not drawing me to you but away. That is what those who break time feel like, similar to a force field of sorts, chaotic energy circling you all. All of the Frey simply want peace in time.”

Steve, “Will I always be like this?”

“No, not when we get you back. Then you may not even remember this.”

“Tasha, she won’t, I won’t lose her?”

You shook your head, “No, in fact you will start to feel memories of your life and visitations by the time we get back to the present once we have dropped you a few minutes after you had gone back in time.”

“Wait, I’m going back to 2018? Won’t that-,”

You shook your head, “Let me handle the logistics, and if your arm is tired no doubt a crib could be wrangled up.”

You glanced at Loki and he gave a weak chuckle, “Yes, we have a nanny here who minds the young of our Lords while meetings convene.”

Steve, “I don’t want to leave her alone. For the bath was hard enough.”

Loki, “If change your mind, simply ask, a crib will have been added to your guest bedroom.”

Steve looked you over, “HYDRA won’t come for her again?”

“Oh I highly doubt they would dare try again. They will not remember entirely, however they will feel the better for choosing to grant you a wide berth.”

Loki glanced at you as it clicked in his mind, “This is why Bucky told Stark not to bother you.”

“Exactly. He felt the ripples through HYDRA, and knew when Bluejay is mentioned or spotted to run, far away.”

Steve, “Careful, almost makes it sound like you enjoy people fearing you.”

“Never said fear of me. But a bit of fear is not a bad thing. When people are fearless things get wobbly.”

“You seem fearless,”

Making you smirk and reply, “Trick of the Frey, confident smile, never let them see you terrified.”

Steve lowly asked, “What could terrify you?”

In a deepening of your smirk your eyes turned to the doorway Peter popped up in beaming brightly, “You’re awake!” Rushing over to leap onto your bed to kneel by your knee, “I have to say, your brain is huge!”

“Thank you! I rarely get compliments on the size of my brain outside of non corporeal beings and those intelligence based mating sea horses Tesarna Cordnum on the edge of Frump.”

Steve asked condescendingly, “You can speak to sea horses too?”

Ronan replied, “I have seen sea horses from Tera, they are not the same creatures. Nearly a cubit in size difference and the largest ones can screech so loud that you lose color receptors and the ability to discern llamas.”

Steve shook his head, “I am not touching that with a ten foot pole.”

Peter, “Are they dangerous? I mean, llamas, why wouldn’t you be able to see them?”

“Not dangerous, per se.”

Ronan replied, “As long as you don’t hit them with,” you lifted a finger pressing it to your lips making him chuckle lowly with a nod. “Just no experimenting on llamas. They are very old and have even less patience than I do.” Making Peter’s grin deepen even more.

Steve, “Are they aliens?”

“They’re the oldest.”

Loki, “Ah, so that’s where they hid.” You let out a giggle, “Sneaky, very sneaky.”

Peter, “Hid, from who?”

“Exactly,” you whispered his head tilted, “No one knows, but if you ask very nicely they’ll cough up a glowworm for you.”

Loki, “Magical things glowworms. No telling what they can do, what they could do.”

Steve, “So they’re like genies then?”

For a moment your lips pursed, “I suppose. In a way. If you want to oversimplify their confounding capabilities by comparing them to blue creatures bound to lamps.” Looking to Peter you said, “Oh, if you wanted me to search for that slinky of yours I’ll need to tap your memory.”

He nodded, “Ok, how do we do that?”

“Fairly simple, just focus on the last time you remember it,” Reaching up your fingers tapped his head and following clues of the Slinky like easter eggs you found the last memory with it and soaked in the time and place. “Thank you.”

Jack entered the doorway with a wide grin, “Ah, awake just in time.”

You smiled at him and accepted his help up when he reached the bed to guide you all to the dinner in the King’s dining hall where you enjoyed the meal prepped for you. The drooping of your eyes halfway through dessert however found you being carried back off to bed. Giddily after having found a series of holographic variations of chess games in the library and several champions of the sport K9 trotted into your room to hop up onto your bed stretching out against your legs for the night.

On a stroll with Ronan, Jack went, while Peter sprawled across his own bed hoping to get ample rest for the following day whatever it would bring. Steve finally gave in and accepted any sleep he could take while Tasha slept beside him in a bassinette and Loki reluctantly chose between staying at your side or his mother’s and had done like he used to falling asleep as she had in her sitting room on opposite ends of the same couch.

Inching up onto your elbow you turned your head to the open balcony in the creeping sunrise. Shifting leaves lured you to the view and onto your feet you rose feeling your curls drop like a blanket around you. Onto the tiled stone balcony you stepped into the warm breeze shifting the rainbow of leaves in the canopy above your head. It wasn’t Gallifrey but Asgard certainly had a beauty all its own, slowly being bathed in the golden fire flickering off their rising sun. Losing your thoughts to taking in each detail of all within your view The light filtered through the colored leaves, bathing the world in soft light.

Pt 17

#Loki x Reader OC #Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge

[ventriloquistrose]

Jewelry looks best with gems.

A human au

(The scene was pictured through a camera.)

"Yo yo yo! Hey you guys! Today is the day!" Amethyst shouted into the camera, holding it herself in her hands. "Yeah you heard it! Because today's the day we're gonna get pierced!!!"

Amethyst was sitting in the backseat, filming the two women up front.

Pearl was a very pale woman, her skin almost close to white. Her hair was Peach-dyed and really short, only barely touching her ears and with a small pointy part at the back. Up front she had bangs which were split in half and almost looked as if they were trying to avoid eachother.

She had a tall, slim build with a big, pointy nose and big, blue eyes.

Her outfit was causal, a short-sleeved turquoise blouse tucked inside a pair of blue jeans.

She was driving the car, a grey dundai.

Next to her was Garnet. She was way taller than the other two, and compared to Pearl, was at least 50 shades darker than her in skintone. She had an hour-glass build with a set of wide hips hidden in a pair of tight sweatpants, a thin waist clothed in a purple tank-top and a pair of thick, black glasses hiding her eyes. And on top of her head was a massive, square shaped, black afro.

"Amethyst! Turn that off! I don't have my face on!" Pearl immediately scolded, blushing heavily but tried to hide it with one hand waving about.

"Oh come on P! Admit you're excited!" Amethyst laughed, holding the camera a bit closer.

Pearl sighed in frustration. "Alright, fine! But I still don't get what the joy is about sticking holes in your body only to hang some piece of jewelry!" She said.

"Come on, P. I know you want it!" Amethyst teased. "You've wanted it ever since Rose got her bellybutton pierced."

"Hers could easily be hidded with clothes." Pearl argued, looking back at her through the mirror. "Garnet, why aren't you helping me here?" She looked almost frustrated at the woman beside her.

"I think it's cool." Garnet simply replied. "It really reflects your personality on some people."

"So why don't you get one?" Amethyst asked, standing up and leaning forward onto the seat.

"Don't have any place to put it." She plainly answered. "You on the other hand, can barely choose."

"You're just mad cause' you can't pierce your hands like you wanted." Amethyst teased.

"My hands are not important." Garnet warned, and Amethyst silenced. "Besides. I'm the only one with a tattoo." She continued.

Amethyst nodded. True. True.

"It better go fast. Steven promised to make us dinner." Garnet reminded them.

"Hey! Hey guys!!" Amethyst laughed. "How do you think Steven would react if I pierced my-."

Just in time, someone drove past them in a hurry and Pearl lost control of the car.

Soon, Pearl had found control over the car and clenched the wheel. Garnet held the handle above the door and Amethyst practically laid on the floor.

"I'm gonna pretend that you were going to say 'nose'." Pearl said strictly, frowning.

Garnet turned around in her seat, looking at Amethyst on the floor. "That's why we use seatbelts."

Amethyst grunted in annoyance. "I hate you."

"Love you too." Garnet smiled.

-

About an hour later they were inside the piercing studio with a few other people inside.

And for now they were just strolling around shelves, looking at all the different jewelry incubated in glass-boxes.

But as Pearl looked through all the different, more extreme jewelry such as plugs or huge extensions, she got more and more off put.

"I think I've seen enough." She alarmed and looked away.

"Come on, P! You promised you'd do one too!" Amethyst told her, loudly slurping a soda with a straw.

Pearl rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Fine! I can do.... I don't know, my ears, maybe?" She said.

"Ugh, you're so lame!" Amethyst blurted out in annoyance.

"Excuse me, do you need any help?" A young co-worker with piercings and brown hair suddenly walked up behind them.

"Yes. We had an appointment. Pearl and Amethyst." Pearl told her politely.

"Great! We'll have you in just a moment." The woman told her and walked back behind the counter.

And again, they started wandering about between the half a dussin of people inside the store.

"This one is quite pretty, don't you think?" Pearl sung as she pointed a finger at the diamond- adorned septum jewelry.

Amethyst joined her side to see. But as she had bored herself, she returned to her own searching.

"I don't think piercing your nose is anything for you, P. You know?" Amethyst told her honestly.

"Why's that?" Pearl asked simply as she looked at the jewelry in peace.

"You know. Because of your nose, you know?" Amethyst started getting nervous.

This made Pearl react. She turned around and frowned at her. "What's wrong with my nose?" She crossed her arms.

Immediately Amethyst realised her mistake and started studdering excuses for her words and had really started to sweat.

"You have a distinctive nose, Pearl." Garnet suddenly cut in, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. But before Pearl talked back, she showed her a piece of thick paper. "These would suit you."

"Oh." Pearl hummed in curiosity as she grabbed it. On the thick paper; the jewelry holder, hung a pair of earrings in gold. One was just a simple pearl-ish stud, while the one next to it was similar, but had a star hanging from it.

"Well, they ar quite lovely." She admitted as she leaned against Garnet.

"Yeah! You should get those!" Amethyst blurted, somehow had sneaked to her side without any of them noticing.

But Pearl frowned with discomfort. "I am not quite comfortable with the symmetry of these, though." She muttured, looking at the difference between the simple stud and star adorned stud.

"We're in a relationship of three." Amethyst said, crossing her arms. "How much symmetry do you have in your life, you think?"

"And what, if I may ask, are you planning on getting?" Pearl asked dandy, crossing her arms again and frowning.

"The place I use the most!" She then stuck her tongue out and pointed her fingers at it. "This guy!"

"I believe your heart is the most used spot. Or perhaps your skin." Pearl corrected.

"Come on, P! You guys have already pierced my heart, at least let me do the second best!" Amethyst grinned, resting her hands on her chest.

For a split second Pearl smiled at the romantic words before quickly frowning again.

"Pearl and Amethyst?" A voice called behind them. And there was a pink haired, tall woman with a lip-piercing standing by the door deeper inside the store.

-

(Twenty minutes later)

Pearl was sitting on the chair, nervously playing with her hands.

Garnet stood at her right side, leaning against the backrest.

Amethyst was busy admiring her new tongue piercing in the mirror on the wall, sticking her tongue out.

"P, there's nothing to be scared of! They're just sticking a needle through your flesh! You'll just look like that horror movie dude who has lots of needles in his face!" She laughed, tongue still out of her mouth.

"Amethyst!" Pearl scolded at her and Amethyst just started laughing.

"It will be fine." Garnet's calm voice and smile made her smile.

"So. Are we ready?" The woman with pink hair asked, putting on a pair of plastic gloves.

Pearl nodded and leaned back as the woman grabbed her tools.

Garnet and Amethyst held her hands.

"Okay, Pearl. Take a deep breath." She told her.

Pearl took a deep breath and clenched her eyes shut.

"Relax, P." Amethyst laughed.

"Okay. One, two three." The piercer counted and pulled the needle through her ear.

Pearl made a startled whimper for half a second and tensed into a stick.

"Okay. One to go." The piercer announced and switched side.

"One, two, three." Five minutes later, Pearl was done with her ears and watched herself in a mirror.

"You look good, P." Amethyst told her. Garnet nodded in agreement.

"You were right, they are very pretty." She turned to her right side with the star. "Garnet." And then to the stud. "Amethyst."

"Hey! Why do I get to be the little one?!" Amethyst blurted.

"Because you are my little stud." Pearl sang.

"And Garnet gets to be the star? Fair, P. Fair." Amethyst complained.

"Rather a stud in your ear than a kick in your rear." Garnet cut in and everyone burst out laughing.

"Are you ready for the third one, ms?" The pink-haired woman asked, changing gloves.

The two women looked at her in confusion.

"Third one?" Amethyst asked.

Pearl smiled shyly. "Rose's was personal to her. I think I should give it a try as well."

Garnet and Amethyst smiled proudly at her.

"You know what?" Amethyst asked, crossing her arms. She turned her head towards the piercer. "Yo! Lady! Got time for one more?"

-

About an hour later after walking back to the car and started driving, they were once again on the road, nighttime starting to sneak in.

"Happy with your day, Amethyst?" Pearl asked her, looking at her through the mirror.

"Yep! And my girls are looking hot!" Amethyst stuck her tongue out again, showing her tongue-piercing while at the same time pointing at the purple, small one in the middle of her chest.

"How about you, Garnet?" Pearl asked the woman beside her.

"Never better." Garnet smiled, taking off her glasses to wipe them off with the bottom of her shirt, revealing her blue and brown heterochromia eyes and her old, third eye tattoo in the middle of her forehead.

She then grabbed Pearl's hand and lifted it up so she could kiss it. Pearl giggled and did the same thing with hers.

"Hey! Where's my sugar?!" Amethyst shouted, leaning forward.

Garnet just chuckled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

And Amethyst fell back in the seat, pretending to faint.

"You look great, P." She said before drifting off into sleep.

Pearl smiled back at her. And then she saw Garnet nodding in agreement at her. And then she smiled at herself in the mirror. Admiring the small, pearl-looking dermal in the middle of her forehead, between her bangs.

The End

#steven universe #garnet #amethyst #pearl #piercings #human au #polygems

[quarterfromcanon]

Huzzah!

for @imunbreakabledude

Thank you for the wonderful idea generators you listed in your request; every single one served to spark some element of this piece and I had such a great time putting it together. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 Happy Valentine’s Day!

Word count: 3,820

Rating/content warnings: G. Mild swearing. No violence and nothing really sexual. Unless you count #archeryarms. They are quite powerful.

Relationships: Mostly general Gurl Group and co. in nature, but there may or may not be a little Rethaniel kernel planted here somewhere... ;)

Summary: Our beloved residents of West Covina take a trip north to engage in some Renaissance merriment.

Rebecca stood before the wall-length mirror and ran her fingers along the feather tucked above the brim of her hat. She adjusted the small tambourine tied to her waist and planted both hands on her hips. 

"Well, fair ladies... or, should I say, RenFaire ladies, are we ready?"

A row of restroom stall latches slid aside and their doors swung wide to reveal the rest of the Gurl Group, all clad in their carefully selected costumes for the day. Rebecca bounced in place and clasped her hands under her chin.

A net beaded snood held all of Paula's beautiful red hair. An ornamental ruby brooch was fastened to the bodice of her ornate raspberry gown. She smoothed the fabric and held her head high, striking a pose.

Valencia repurposed the faux leather portion of her Bride of the Pirate King costume and fashioned it to be part of her falconer garb, complete with a Velcro wrist attachment featuring a tiny plush merlin fitted with a hood. A simple plait kept her field of vision clear with the added bonus of helping combat overheating. She twisted sideways and nodded approval at her reflection, pleased with the silhouette.

Heather had happily seized the opportunity to go as an archer, a set of garments she'd been assembling piece by piece ever since she started her continuing education class. Her hair was braided and bound together to reduce the risk of distracting strays. Many of her beloved camo greens were present in this ensemble, albeit separated into individual components of her attire. She moved to tuck her hands into her pockets, remembered that there weren't any, and instead hooked both thumbs through the belt.

The bridge of Rebecca's nose scrunched as she grinned. "Crushin' it. Fresno, here we come." 

"Play us out, Cookie," Paula urged.

Rebecca scooped her lute - easily the most expensive item for her look since she had been adamant about carrying a functional instrument rather than a prop - off the countertop and strummed. Her gaze turned skyward as she left the rest stop bathroom attempting to generate lyrics on the spot. 

"The countess doth my song request, I go at her courtly behest, and now I introduce four: there were none quite so resplendent, connected yet independent, trust me I'm the troubadour..."

Scott and Tommy were already waiting outside dressed as an earl and a squire, respectively. Tommy gave them all an appreciative thumbs up and Scott applauded. The latter strode over to Paula when she emerged. Scott bowed and then held out his hand. "My lady?" He gestured in the direction of their waiting minivan in an unspoken offer to escort her.

Paula smiled and accepted his outstretched palm. "Milord."

While they walked, Scott called over his shoulder. "I like the new ditty, Rebecca. Lotta info in a little time. Nice and snappy."

Rebecca waved an 'oh, stop' gesture, but she was unable to hide her delight in receiving positive feedback. "Thank you. I couldn't resist a little Danny Kaye tribute. I think it could work better if I ramp up the speed of my delivery, now that I've worked out the words."

Valencia flanked Paula on her other side and leaned in close to whisper, "What musical was she talking about?"

"No idea. It must've been before my time."

They loaded back into the vehicle, though with considerably greater difficulty given the added layers of their new outfits. Paula now had to sit in the middle with Rebecca to have room for her voluminous skirts. Scott took the driver seat in her stead, and Tommy sat beside him. Valencia detached the falcon from its perch and buckled it into the rear middle seat to keep it from sliding around on the drive. Heather observed this with quiet amusement. She patted the fake bird on the head. "Safety first." 

The wardrobe-swapping pit stop in Tulare was only about forty minutes away from their final destination, a span of time which seemed to fly by after the previous three hours on the road. Eagerness for the festivities ahead reached a renewed high as the park finally came into view. Scott pulled up to the waiting staff member and exchanged pleasantries. He passed the young worker a bag of canned goods they'd brought to contribute to the faire's donation drive and then fished out his wallet to pay the parking and admission fee. 

As soon as they exited the van, all the sights and sounds swept them into the action. There were myriad tents on either side of the path that wove through the trees. Bakers, potters, and weavers sold their wares; blacksmiths hammered hot metal atop anvils, and a cheerful tune drifted from a shelter housing a trio of professional musicians. The food court beckoned with the scent of cakes, pies, meats, and sandwiches. Their first quarter of an hour passed simply drifting from one table of offerings to the next, admiring everything and strategizing how they would spend their money later. 

Once they'd gotten a general sense of the lay of the land, Rebecca began walking backward to face the group at large and clapped her hands together. "Okay, time to get the party started. Where to first? Birthday girls' choice. Heather? Paula?"

Heather pulled a face. "That's not gonna be how you introduce us all day, is it? You're gonna confuse everybody since it's not, like, actually either of our birthdays. Not even close."

"Okay, true," Rebecca conceded, "but 'a November day that happens to fall almost squarely in the middle between the two and on a weekend we could all ask off work' is a mouthful to explain to strangers."

"Or we could just try, y'know, not sharing any details of our personal life with the RenFaire performers?" Heather suggested with a sarcastic shrug.

"But then none of them will sing you a period-appropriate song or raise a celebratory cheer." Rebecca pouted. 

Heather nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly."

"Verily, thou art a most obstinate addle-plot," Rebecca remarked with a sigh.

"Oooh, are we doing the olde timey talk now?" Paula brightened. "I've been practicing for this."

"Aye, good lady," Rebecca confirmed and linked their arms. "I believe the hour is upon us!"

Just like that, all lighthearted squabbling was forgotten. Rebecca and Paula joyfully riffed off one another using every medieval and Renaissance vocab word they could recall. They even dusted off their questionable English accents for an added layer of "authenticity." Tommy and Heather exchanged glances at some of the inventive word choices, having acquired a passing familiarity with the correct terms on their individual visits to similar faires, but they let the giggling duo indulge in their antics.

A short while later, they stumbled upon another tent of interest, which appeared to be dedicated to wood carving. There were wall hangings, placards, canes, birdhouses, and countless other novelty handcrafted objects. One rather simple looking cube with hinges on the corner of a table caught Rebecca's attention. She plucked it up for closer inspection. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw the lion rampant carved into the surface of the lid. She pried the box open with her thumb and gasped. 

"Aww, there's a little compass inside! I wonder how much this would cost to send to Na--" Rebecca dragged out the first syllable of the name, realizing too late that she'd spoken the thought aloud. "--antucket. I've got a cousin out there who might enjoy it for... scout hikes."

She nodded perhaps a little too emphatically at the end of this improvised statement. Her eyes flicked from one companion's face to the next to see if they bought the cover story. The reactions were unanimously not in her favor. 

"You were about to say Nathaniel." Paula gave Rebecca a reassuring nudge. "Sweetheart, you don't have to hide it from us. We've known for weeks that you two have been writing back and forth to each other. I accidentally used one of his envelopes as a coaster when you invited me over to hear a few works in progress."

"Yeah, and you stowed another letter behind Estrella's tank," Heather added. "Which is literally transparent so..."

"Having a pen pal is actually kind of perfect for you," Valencia said. "You're the only person I've ever known who bought stationery as a souvenir."

"It has been nice, keeping in touch," Rebecca admitted. "We're in different countries, both staying introspective and working on ourselves, but I think we've gotten to a place where we can check in on each other without undoing all the positive growth." She turned the compass over between her fingers and then held it out for the other women to inspect. "Do you think he'd like it?"

Heather's head tilted to the side. "Exclusive product ... a little pretentious but still practical... prominently features an animal you could find in a zoo... Sounds like a match from what I remember about him." 

"Plus, it's kinda symbolic, y'know? Like he can use it because he's surrounded by wilderness but he's also finding his way," Rebecca explained. "This could be a memento to commemorate that."  

She removed the wad of bills from the change purse on her belt and separated the necessary amount listed on the sticker. Once the compass was officially in her possession, Rebecca swung the bag back and forth, considering what a nuisance it would be to have that hanging from her wrist for the rest of the day. She nonchalantly turned a sharp corner as they left the tent. There, she discretely tucked the remaining dollars into her bra and stashed Nathaniel's gift in her former cash pouch.

The others were gathered around the pamphlet guide now open in Paula's hands when she returned.

"Looks like a lot of the big events are in the afternoon," Heather noticed.

"Count me in for the show where the guy swallows fire." Tommy tapped the corresponding spot on the park map.

"And we're getting funnel cake later, right?" Rebecca pointed to Paula and then back at herself. 

"Oh, of course," Paula readily agreed. "It's quintessential fairground food." 

"Don't forget the giant turkey legs!" Scott added, already scanning the large painted menus in the distance so he could make a beeline to that station once they were ready to eat. 

Valencia looked ill at the mention and returned her attention to the accessory booth she'd drifted toward while the others spoke. She held up two pieces she might purchase and frowned thoughtfully. Heather plucked a small standing mirror off the display table and held it for her while she considered each necklace in the sunlight.

A faint buzz sounded from Valencia's satchel. She angled her body so the jewelry could rest against her chest without sliding off and then rummaged for her phone. "Ah, crap." 

"Who is it?" Heather prompted. 

"Darryl with the five thousandth Pinterest idea for his Blended Family Unity Ceremony. I thought the point was to do something simple and sentimental, once they decided they didn't want all the hassle and planning of another wedding in their lifetime. April seemed in favor of that. But Darryl's gone down an Internet-ing rabbit hole and can't be stopped. I thought the ceremony itself might clock in at twenty minutes at most, when they first brought it to me."

"Oh, my sweet summer child." Rebecca shook her head as she tuned in to the conversation.

Valencia’s shoulders sagged and she grimaced. "I know. Joke's on me. At this point, I'd recommend the guests just clear their schedule for the whole day. This latest concept involved a giant canvas and finger painting so... wear something you don't care about."

A collective groan rippled through the group. It was confessed, however, that they all expected at least one genuinely tear-jerking moment, given Darryl's fierce and unwavering attachment to each person who would be in attendance. 

The six of them then followed the map to briefly observe a staged sword fight and a live joust. Paula and Rebecca reminisced over A Knight's Tale and lamented the fact that more stories depicting the era did not include extended dance and/or musical numbers. 

"With the obvious exception of The Court Jester, of course," Rebecca said.

Paula gave a vague nod, smile locked in place but eyes blinking rapidly. "Right. Sure bet it does." 

"You've never seen it, have you?" 

"I'm not even sure if it's a play or a movie." Paula offered an apologetic wince. "You're sorta my primary go-to when I need to understand these kinds of references. I don't have the head space for it."

"I mean, a first watch is definitely something we need to remedy on a weekend soon but, given that I have three decades of passionate devotion to the art form, I get what you mean." Rebecca patted her lute fondly.

They stopped by the wooden ship stationed on the grass where actors dressed as pirates interacted with the crowd and set off small cannons. Then the group advanced toward the last thing on their list of pre-meal activities, which was to watch one of the live shows. The uproarious energy there sparked a sudden idea. Rebecca took extensive notes on her phone, deciding to flesh out her earlier improvised song into a full number to capture the vibe of the faire.

Afterward, they all left the seating in front of the stage and headed toward the food court. The sound of drums diverted their attention along the way and they searched for its source. A small gathering of belly dancers circled on a stretch of open lawn. Rebecca began nodding her head in time with the drum beat, but the motion stilled as she studied the trained and toned muscles undulating beneath the nearest dancer's skin. The woman stood out among her peers as not only being adept at the style but possessing a kind of theatrical charisma. She noticed her new audience and winked. 

Rebecca tugged off her troubadour's hat and fanned herself. "Damn, that level of confidence is sexy."

Eventually, watching half a dozen stomachs reminded them of their rumbling own. With some reluctance, they finally moved along. At last, it was time for their much-anticipated lunch. Scott immediately purchased his coveted turkey leg and ale, both of which he enjoyed while the others mulled over their dining options. As they scanned the stands, the girls spied a large kiln not far away and recognized a familiar dish in the shadows. 

Rebecca pressed a hand to her middle. "Okay, I know it's not the kind of thing you can only get at the faire, but I need that pizza in me."

"Seconded." Tommy joined his honorary sister in staring at the melting cheese.

Once everyone had a plate, they found a place to sit at one of the wooden tables. Paula dusted some of the powdered sugar from the funnel cake off her fingers with a napkin and leaned toward Heather, who was stationed diagonally across from her.

"So, I haven't seen you much since fall break ended. How's grad school going?"

"The marine biology coursework combined with the kind of work that gives me money is kicking my ass but, like, in a good way. Especially since so much of it involves trips to the beach."

"I really admire you for going back, and for finding an area of study that would let you take so many fun field trips," Paula praised. 

Valencia caught Heather's eye and beamed. "Well-played, professor."

While everyone ate, they unfolded the map again atop their table. They scanned the times for where each person wanted to go between noon and dusk when the event would close. A second-half schedule was established and they prepared to seek out the first stop. Before doing so, however, Paula opened her phone's camera for a picture. Rebecca rounded everyone else up for the photo. 

"Prithee, gather ye round the magic picture box. Lady Proctor wouldst appreciate the opportunity to capture our likeness and preserve the memory."

They wrapped their arms around each other and leaned into frame, looking respectably at home before a backdrop of other costumed faire-goers. Paula showed them all the end result before turning it back to herself and grinning at the image. "Perfect."

First on the listed activities was the archery contest. Heather rarely had an occasion to utilize her champion level skills as a bowman, so this chance was too good to skip. The competitors formed a line before their targets.

"Make ye ready!" the announcer cried. "Draw! Aim! Loose!"

Heather's shot found its mark and embedded in the bullseye. Her companions clapped and whooped. 

Rebecca watched her nock the following arrow and line it up for release. "She's got a whole Keira Knightley in Princess of Thieves look going for her today."

The second arrowhead pierced a hair's breadth from the first.

"I think it's kinda doing it for me."

Valencia nodded. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners while she regarded Rebecca with curiosity. "Are you having some sort of Renaissance awakening?" 

"TBD. Check back in with me later. Kinsey scale rating may need an update."

Heather’s final arrow was dead center. The announcer declared her the winner and the visitors from West Covina alarmed everyone nearby with the shouts that erupted from them. They surged forward to embrace and congratulate her. Heather awkwardly allowed herself to be jostled by her circle of friends. She exuded discomfort but, when they all formed a group hug, she did not squirm away. 

After that landslide victory, next up was a demonstration with a trebuchet. The impressively tall apparatus cut through the air and launched pumpkins at a makeshift castle wall. Tommy was ecstatic. He fished out his phone to record a video. "Brendan would love this. I've gotta send it to him."

At the mention of her eldest son, Paula's lower lip protruded sympathetically. "Do you miss your big brother knight, squire?"

Tommy tried to feign indifference, but the shift of his shoulders couldn't hide the expression that flickered across his face. "A little, I guess."

"Aww, pumpkin," Paula cooed. She hooked him toward her with one arm and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Me, too."

"Hey, careful with the mom smooches," Tommy cautioned. "Girls might not talk to me if they see I've already got a lipstick mark on my face."

Paula licked her finger and wiped off the traces. The boy allowed the assistance with resignation. "Okay, yeah, I did sorta set myself up for that one," Tommy muttered. 

Somewhere in the crowd, a recognizable voice caught their attention. 

"Just a minute, Amari. It's Agila's turn. Baba can't hold both of you on his shoulders at the same time. Somebody might fall... most likely me."

Paula stood on tiptoe and waved. "Sunil! Sunil, over here!"

Rebecca heard the name and slumped. "Great. This guy."

Sunil wove his way toward them, holding one of his daughters’ hands on each side. "Why, hello! Fancy meeting you here!"

He drew up short when he spotted Rebecca. "Bunch."

Rebecca arched her eyebrows. "Odhav."

"So, how are you liking the RenFaire so far?" Paula asked, interrupting the showdown.

"We're having a blast. The girls rode the giant unicorn. They said it would've been better if it were a pegasus but, hey, next best thing, right? We've caught three shows already. Really resurrects the old acting bug. And I'm still on a shopper's hunt for a crystal chalice with a palace. As we all know, it 'holds the brew that is true,' and I could really use the pick-me-up after four hours of bickering toddlers." Sunil chuckled at his own humor. Paula weakly attempted to do the same, lost.

Rebecca snapped to attention at the reference. Unable to help herself, she interjected, "Yeah, those can be pretty fragile. You might be better off getting a vessel with a pestle."

Surprised, but pleasantly so, Sunil's expression warmed. "You've seen The Court Jester."

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Rebecca's eyes went comically wide with fervor. "I've been talking about it all day. I must've watched that at least twenty times as a kid."

"How could you not? It's a classic."

Sunil gleefully launched into another quote. "'What are you loo-loo-looing about?’”

Rebecca was ready with the rejoinder. "'Oh, I'm not loo-loo-looing, sire, I'm willow-willow-wailing.'"

Sunil responded with a kingly wave of dismissal. "'All right, all right. Willow away, willow away.'"

They cackled.  

"Dear God," Paula murmured, but she was visibly grateful her usually adversarial friends were getting along.

"There are two of them," Valencia joked affectionately.

Sunil rubbed his hands together. "Listen, we were about to track down that lesson on how to do a courtly dance. Would all of you like to join us?"

This proposal was met with general agreement (although Heather required a little additional convincing to accept the prospect of participation). They reached the designated area just as instructions began. Most of the dance took part in a large group but, for the small section where those involved were expected to break off into pairs, they planned ahead for who would dance with whom. The combinations ultimately turned out to be Paula and Scott, Heather and Valencia, Tommy with both Amari and Agila, and - in a truce that would've been inconceivable prior to that instant - Rebecca and Sunil. 

As all the gathered dancers moved in a great circle, Rebecca took the opportunity to look at each of her loved ones in turn. The chances to enjoy hours with everyone like this sometimes proved rare and difficult to orchestrate, but shared moments of laughter and fun such as these made it infinitely worth the effort.

She turned to Heather on her left and gave the other woman's hand a teasing squeeze. "Having a good time after all?"

"I'll live," Heather answered simply, but Rebecca knew her well enough to detect the truth beneath her nonchalance. "What about you? You've been sending us a pre-trip countdown for, like, a full month leading up to this. Is it holding up to the hype?"

"Hundo P," Rebecca replied. "Ugh, it works when Maya says it but I think there might be too much of a generational divide for me to pull that off. In other news, I might be bi?"

Heather's laugh huffed out on an exhale. "Congrats on figuring that out. Welcome to the club. Darryl will make you a t-shirt."

"Thanks. I'm gonna need your out-and-proud advice later to sift through this brand new information, but it feels like I'm onto something."

"Anytime." 

"So, calendar date notwithstanding, has this been a good birthday?" Rebecca asked hopefully.  

Heather's lips twitched. "I'd let you talk me into it again."

In time with the music, Rebecca twirled in a circle and her friends all blurred together in her vision. A soft smile spread across her face. She thought she could safely declare this day a win.

#CEG Writing By Me #crazyexvalentineexchange #imunbreakabledude

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

The American Initiative

Part One

Summary: Grace Cleveland and Eleanor Baker both thought their lives were over, until they became part of something much bigger – the Avengers. Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC Word Count: 1490 Warnings: Death, mentioned a couple of different ways, but not detailed; canon divergence; more based on Marvel movies. A/N: This was the first Marvel fic I ever started! I have edited what was already posted over on whiskeyxcola, and will be posting the entirety of the fic here. Tag list is open! Anddddd I know OFC’s aren’t everyone’s favorite but hopefully at least a few people can still enjoy this! PS: Thank you to @captain-s-rogers​ who is always my sounding board and Marvel expert!

Masterlist

Tags: @captain-s-rogers @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​@xtina2191​ @capandbuckylvr​

Six extraordinary beings gathered in the conference room of the S.H.I.E.L.D training offices, making light banter and catching up while they waited for someone to come in and lead the meeting they had all been called to attend. Up to this point, they had been enjoying a nice time off between missions; Nick had assured all of them there was no grand mission – yet – but it was of the utmost importance that they attend this meeting.

“Good afternoon, team,” Nick Fury greeted, taking his place at the head of the table before sliding a folder to each of them. “Appreciate you coming in on your time off.”

“Oh, we had a choice?” Tony quipped.

Nick ignored him. “Our mission at this point is one of a different kind. Two new members will be joining the team, but they will require training first. The folder in front of you details their history.”

He waited for the team members to review the folder, anticipating the inevitable surprise at a single word in the folder: enhanced.

“I’m sorry, isn’t that what we’re trying to avoid?” Bruce asked.

“We were,” Fury confirmed, “but since our intel tells us that Stryker’s experiments have been highly successful, the American government decided we needed to be ready to answer that challenge. I present to you, lady and gentlemen, The American Initiative.

“Two women were chosen, for different reasons, from among fifty candidates, to receive the experimental ‘treatments’ to enhance their abilities.” He clicked the button on a nearby projector; a slide overviewing a young woman appeared on the screen. “Exhibit one, Eleanor Baker. Twenty-five, declared brain-dead three months ago after she suffered a severe brain bleed as the result of a car accident. After three weeks in a coma, her family opted to allow her directives to execute.”

“Which were?” Natasha frowned.

“Ms. Baker chose previously to donate her body to science. Dr. Armando Roland is a close friend of mine and called me with a report of Ms. Baker’s case. S.H.I.E.L.D opted to take advantage of her directive and put her into the Initiative program. She is now alive, functional on her own – and then some.”

Bruce’s frown deepened. “How exactly was this achieved?”

“With a serum similar to the one Steve was given that enhanced his physical makeup,” Nick answered matter-of-factly. “We’ve been trying for years to isolate the serum from Steve’s cells, with little success. Finally, our R&D found a way to use Steve’s DNA to create a new serum. Fortunately for us, it worked beyond our wildest dreams. Though Ms. Baker has little to no memory of her life prior to waking up in our facilities, she is now telepathic and a mind-reader. She also shows great potential with the little training she has already been through for agility and combat. It’s possible she possesses other abilities that we are not yet aware of.”

Steve pursed his lips as he perused the paperwork in front of him regarding Eleanor Baker. He had never once regretted his decision and agreement to receive the serum injections that changed his whole life, but he did feel some empathy for this young woman who had not been given the choice.

“The second candidate, Grace Cleveland, was chosen from the FBI’s witness protection program. Ms. Cleveland had previously worked for a bounty hunting agency in her Kansas hometown, and on the job was witness to a serious crime – the murder of a Senator. She was taken into custody under the guise of accusations of association with the crime. When it reached my ears that she was not entirely confident with the witness protection program – and also has the same accuracy enhancement as Clint – I sought her out, giving her the option to be completely off the grid. She agreed. The experimental serum that she received has enhanced her accuracy even further, as well as her math and reasoning skills – she’s no Spock, but she’ll get the job done. Her agility and combat skills seem to be enhanced as well.”

“So you created a genius who’ll hit the target every time,” Tony commented. “Guess Clint and I should be shaking in our boots.”

Clint snorted, but Fury only smirked. “I would be.”

“When do we get to meet these American enhanced?” Thor asked, shoving the closed folder away from him.

“Now. They’re downstairs in the training room as we speak.”

No group of people had ever gotten up more begrudgingly. The truth was, they liked the team the way it was, and even with the added abilities, they weren’t jumping at the opportunity to expand.

When they arrived at the training room, crowding in the doorway, the two women were running sprints across the training room floor. No one on the team knew what they had expected, but it certainly wasn’t the two young women that were here in tank tops and gym shorts and ponytails.

When their sprints were completed, Eleanor nudged Grace and nodded toward the door. Grace nodded, downing a good amount of water from the bottle in her hand before approaching the group, Eleanor close behind.

“Grace, Eleanor, these are the Avengers,” Nick said before introducing them one by one. “Take it easy for the rest of today, get assimilated into your quarters, and tomorrow you’ll start training with them.”

Both women nodded, saying nothing as they left the training room. Tony smirked.

“You know, Nick, for all the stuff you said they could do, I wouldn’t have expected them to be mute.”

Nick chuckled to himself. “They’re careful with their words, that much I can assure you. Romanoff, I’m entrusting them to your care tonight. Tomorrow, they’ll begin training with you all – I’ll leave that to your good judgement.”

Natasha left with Nick then, following the girls towards the dormitory area, while the men stood around, arms crossed over their chests, still processing this new development.

“I want the accuracy girl,” Clint spoke up.

“Sure you do,” Tony returned.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Not like that. I want to start her training.”

“You do know he said training, not initiation, right?” Steve joked, knowing from the look on Clint’s face exactly where the other man’s mind was at. “I’ll start with Baker tomorrow. I’d like to see how similar her experience is to mine.”

“Perfect, I can make my tee time,” Tony said before excusing himself from the group.

Thor laughed. “Big man, little stick.”

Tony turned around to wink at all of them before continuing on his way. Thor quickly caught up, bantering with Tony about his golf outing the next day. Steve and Clint, the only two left behind, turned to each other.

Steve raised a brow. “Why do I feel like your idea of training tomorrow is far different from mine?”

“Because it probably is, Cap,” Clint smirked, clapping the other man on the shoulder before leaving the training room.

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood.

After quick showers, Grace and Ellie convened in the hallway outside their neighboring rooms. Food was sounding good, but they weren’t quite sure what their options were.

“Ladies,” Natasha greeted before shaking hands with them. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Eleanor Baker.”

“Grace Cleveland — and you’re the Black Widow.”

“I am,” Natasha confirmed, only a little ashamed of the proud smile that tugged softly at her lips. “Fury asked me to show you around.”

The women exchanged a glance. Receiving the message from Ellie, Grace nodded and turned back to Natasha.

“Agent Romanoff, do you think you could show us to the kitchen first?”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll take the long way around and map out the facility on our way.”

Both women paid close attention to the landmarks within the building that Natasha pointed out, committing them to memory; it wouldn’t take more than the one guided tour for them to remember where everything was situated.

“I’m off to my own training session,” Natasha told them once they arrived in the kitchen, “but now you know where my room is if you need anything. You’ll be training with Steve and Clint in the morning, so I would get some good rest tonight.”

Turning to leave the room, Natasha winked at her new teammates on her way out the door. The women turned towards each other.

“Why do I feel like we are going to have to prove ourselves before we go on any real mission,” Grace sighed, not meaning the statement at all as a question.

Ellie shrugged. “We have a lot to overcome before even worrying about any missions.”

Grace pursed her lips and headed for the cabinets, surveying their options for throwing a meal together. As she pulled items from the shelf, she let go of the angry breath she had been holding onto since their introduction to the current Avenger team. Ellie wasn’t wrong, but Grace wasn’t interested in overcoming — she only wanted to move forward.

#marvel #fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #hawkeye #clint barton #OFC #clint x ofc #clint barton x ofc #steve x ofc #steve rogers x ofc #hawkeye x ofc #captain america x ofc #the american initiative

[70swonderpoisonstark]

Wait, you survived? ( II )

// You and Steve survive the plane wreck and end up seventy years in the future. Everything’s different and the only person that understands the confusion and pain of losing your entire world is your now dead husband’s best friend. When the two of you are forced to adapt to the world around you, things can get complicated. //

———————————————————————————————————

~  Sinful and forbidden pleasures are like poisoned bread; 

         they may satisfy appetite for the moment,

                but there is death in them at the end.  ~

  The two of you settled into modern life as best as you could. Certain aspects of night life were too intense for you both, so you spent a majority of time at home watching movies and catching up on everything you missed. The nights always started the same, you'd finally decide to go to a local bar, get a couple drinks, and slowly mold into society. However, the men were much less polite than they used to be. It was on more than one occasion that Steve had to pull your bar stool closer to his to send a subtle message to the very loud people you've come into contact with.

This night was no different, you'd found a kickin new bar within walking distance of the apartment and agreed to try it out. Six o'clock was when the two of you normally decided to go, people were normally still at home after getting off work, and the crazies usually didn't come out till much later. You'd tucked in your black silk tank into your black ripped jeans, securing the outfit with a "designer" belt. Dressing nice every time you went out was one habit Steve and you couldn't shake. You'd see people everywhere wearing all sorts of interesting outfits, tried to go out in something similar, and never made it out the door. Old habits die hard, huh?

Steve opened the door for you as you walked into the bar, smiling down at you with his sweet smile, you'd get him a date one of these days, you just knew it. The two of you chatted, talking about inventions, medical discoveries, and how great modern cars were. You were admiring a 68' shelby cobra mustang with Steve as you heard a loud 'THUD' in the seat closest to yours. You continued to talk about how innovative it was to put such a powerful motor in such a light car when you heard somebody clear their throat very loud, and too close to your ear. Your eyes dart towards the seat next to you, checking your surroundings before engaging was second nature at this point, noticing a tall, large man staring holes into the side of your head. He was slouched over a dark beer, clumsily wiping foam from his lips as he cleared his throat again, clearly trying to get your attention.

"Can I help you?" You said, annoyance filling your words as you spoke. Even in the 40's, you'd always been very, aggressive when it came to unwanted attention. Watching his pupils dilate slowly as he attempted to take all of you in.

"IIIIIII've gotta say miss, you are tooooo pretty to be here. Waddya say we get outta here, get you somehwere nicer, easier on your back?" He winked, or at least tried to, what he actually did looked more like the beginning of a stroke than anything else. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him off when another booming voice came from behind you.

"I think the lady is fine just where she is, pal." Steve didn't understand why men always had to talk to you. If they were making actual conversation he'd leave you alone, but they always tried terrible one liners that always referenced sexual encounters. Steve pulled you and your seat close enough to his that your thigh was gently resting against his.

"Hey buddy," the drunk man started, swaying as he spoke. "If the lady didn't wanna be tawked to, she wouldn't have worn such a sexy outfit, ain't that right, sugar?" Steve jumped out of his chair, getting in between you and the now very startled man.

"The lady can wear whatever she wants too, and creeps like you get to leave her the hell alone." Steve was tense, his shoulders and back puffed and flexed, bowing him out and making him looked twice as intimidating as usual.

"I don't have to listen to you golden boy, she wants me to feel her up, I can tell just by lookin at the bitch." Steve's eyes widened at the blatant disrespect, insulting a woman because she wasn't interested? What happened to flirting, courting, dates? He expected you to hear one sentence and sleep with him? It rattled Steve's brain. He pulled back immediately, ready to use his strength to knock the fat loser on his ass when you stepped in front of him. Chest to chest, he lowered his fist to look down at you.

"Steve, love. That won't be necessary." You said, ruby red lips turned up in an innocent smile.

"See tough guy, little lady can't wait to get a chance at me." He winked, or maybe had a second stroke, you'd probably never know actually.

"Oh you're right, I can't wait to get a chance at you." You enunciated the 'T' roughly, smiling up at the drunk man who felt entitled to your attention, winked, and uppercutted him straight on his ass. You shook your hand, surprised that the impact didn't hurt more. "Softy." You chuckled and tossed back the rest of your tequila shot. The other patrons at the bar, who were already watching the scene unfold, laughed as the man laid unconscious on the ground after a single punch. Steve huffed, rolling his eyes at the fact that he didn't see that coming. You were always ready to fight, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise that you'd stop him from knocking somebody out, only so YOU could do it.

"You know what (Y/N), I could've done that for you." Steve said, half hurt he didn't get to fight somebody. It had been seventy YEARS. The dumbass in Steve was itching for a bad decision.

"Yes, but what fun would that have been for me?" You say slyly, lightly punching him on the shoulder as you both sit back down at your seats. Steve orders another round, shaking his head and laughing, if Bucky could see the two of you he'd be racking his brain as to how the two of you always caused so much trouble when you were together. The pure mention of you two being left alone together made Bucky's dumbass alarm go off.

"This round's on the house, enjoy your double ma'am." The bartender slid your drinks towards you.

"Miss!" You half yelled as she walked away, "Miss! I only ordered a single."

"Oh I know, the first one's for hitting the dude, the second shot's because you looked so good doing it." She batted her dark eyelashes after she spoke, a deep blush creeping into your cheeks.

"W-well thank you." You squeaked out, men complimenting you was boring, but when a also pretty women compliments you, it hits differently.

"You cold?" Steve glanced over, noticing your slight shiver.

"Only a little." You were always cold, constantly, which is probably why Steve looked at you so indignantly. He shook of his leather jacket, draping it gently along your shoulders.

"Better?"

"Yes, thanks." The two of you continued to talk until eight, both of you knowing it was time to leave before you ran into more crazies. The walk home was quiet, you walked along the streets, in awe of how much New York has changed, it still felt the same, but everywhere you looked were tall glass buildings, skyscrapers that went beyond the clouds, and cars that appeared to be straight out of a sci-fy movie.

Once you were back home you plopped onto the couch.

"Steeeeve, please?" You held your foot up revealing the four inch heeled boots you'd been wearing the whole night, begging for Steve to take them off.

"Is this all I am to you? A glorified shoe remover?" He said as he crouched down and unzipped your left boot.

"No, you're also my jacket provider." You giggled as you wrapped the oversized leather jacket over your entire torso.

"You know I'll get it back." Steve was thankful you hadn't been too affected by the ice. You were still the fun, carefree, badass you'd always been and continued to lift his spirits with little moments like this. He couldn't help but smile looking at you wrap your arms protectively around his jacket, further burrowing yourself into the couch.

"Never!" You yelled as you covered yourself with a pillow, giggling as he attempted to get it from you. You and Steve moved quickly, wiggling free from the others grasp over and over again, each of you attempting to keep the jacket. You flipped behind the couch, landing lightly on your feet.

"Try as you may, we both know who's quicker on their feet, Stevie." You threw a blanket at his face and ran to your room, avoiding his blind grab.

"You really are a child, you know that!." Steve yelled out as he followed you to your room, quietly looking for a sign of where you hid.

You stifled a laugh from behind the door, watching him stalk about your room, quickly turning corners and checking under the bed.

"Oh no, I guess you're nowhere to be found. Guess I'l just have to wait in the living room for your- SURRENDER!" He screamed as he aggressively opened the door you'd had hidden behind.

"Gotcha." He lifted you up over his shoulder and ran to the living room, ducking under the doorframe as he went from room to room. He threw you on the couch, already bent over in laughter as you looked up shocked at him, you forgot he was actually strong underneath that dorky demeanor.

"Wow, those german steroids really did work, huh?" Another smile, and a head shake from Steve before he plopped down next to you on the couch.

"I thought me throwing a car at the Polish Hydra base would've made that obvious." He quipped back.

"Nah, that car barely weighed anything. It was a very light car, doesn't count."

"A light car? you're kidding right, you did hear the words that came out of your mouth?" More laughter erupted as the two of you talked and joked, a sense of ease overcoming the room. You were happy you had Steve to help you with all this. The being frozen in one time and thawed out in another, it was a lot, but having Steve with you made it less lonely.

"Yeah yeah okay Steven." You yawned, glancing at the time. "Steve! We almost forgot about our movie!" You jumped up for the remote, turning it on with a surprising quickness as you browsed the Netflix for a movie. "AGH! There's too many, you pick, I'm gonna get out of these clothes." You tossed him the remote and turned towards your room, suddenly remembering what you'd found at target earlier that day.

"Oh, and I've got a surprise for you, you're gonna LOVE it." You suppress a laugh, trying not to make it obvious about what you'd found.

Steve eyed you curiously, knowing you were up to something, and he was definitely NOT going to love it. You pranced away before he could say anything.

You ripped the clothes out of your bag, laughing to yourself as you pulled out the tank top and shorts, looking them over with pure glee as you thought about Steve's reaction. It was a blue tank top with a shield on the front reading 'My shield is no match for your heart' a weirdly accurate image of Steve and his shield, and grey shorts with red, white, and blue stars. You threw them on, and pulled up the matching knee high socks covered in the shield and stars. You walked through the long hallway.

"I found a movie, Austin Powers? It might be informational about the 60's, and the 90's. Looks good, don't know how much it will really-" Steve's words were forgotten as you strutted into the living room. You had to be kidding.

"What the hell is that?!" He asked, half annoyed, half flattered. You looked good, and were covered in, well, him. That doesn't sound right, but he knew what he meant.

"Oh, this? I'm embracing my country with open arms Stevie, get with the program!" You laughed as you sat down next to THE Captain America.

"He's a living legend, you know. Captain America, the heart and soul of this country. What every American should aspire to be. He saved us from the Nazi's and Hydra single handedly, never resting until he knew we were safe." You clutched your heart dramatically, fake fainting into his lap as you spoke.

"What would this country ever do without him?!" You tossed theatrically, clutching your imaginary pearls, trying to keep a straight face.

Steve didn't know whether to laugh, or fake throw up. He had been the talk of the town since he unfroze, thankfully SHIELD didn't give out your address, or you'd be swarmed with reporters just like they were every morning. Everything was Captain America now, cups, dog collars, car stickers. There wasn't a single thing he could think of that they hadn't added his face too. NOw they had this, Steve wouldn't be surprised if they Captain America themed lingerie.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N)." He looked down at your smiling face, thanking God he had somebody from the past.

"I know right?" You turned towards the TV, being too comfortable to actually change positions now. "What did you decide on again?" You said, yawning halfway throughout your question.

"Austin Powers. Let's see if you actually stay awake for this one." Steve chuckled, remembering how easily you fell asleep when the two of you watched movies.

Steve pressed play and started the movie. It was very confusing. He was sure the bad guy and the good guy were the same person, but somehow nobody said anything? And why was freezing and coming back apart of this movie? Did it just come out? Was this because of the two of you? The time changed too, and were they in London, was that really what London was like in the 60's? By the time Steve got any answers you were softly snoring in his lap, hands on top of the other under your head. He watched your chest rise and fall, admiring how peaceful you looked as you slept. He curled your hair behind your ear, eyes lighting up as you smiled in your sleep. Steve spent the rest of the movie half watching you, barely understanding the movie even though you would definitely be asking about it tomorrow morning. He couldn't help but think how tiring this must be for you. You had always been the caretaker, even out on mission you were constantly tending to the team, emotionally and physically. Some wounds never healed, but you always did your best, and the guys loved you like family for it. Steve knew this was no different, even if you hadn't been frozen, life after the war, losing Bucky, life would've taken a toll on you eventually, and though you were skilled in having others open up, talking about your emotions was not your strong suit. He knew this was weighing on you, having to adjust to such a different world. You were burying yourself in learning the new ways of the world and helping Steve adjust, that you never took time to grieve your old life.

Steve turned the tv off, he wasn't really paying any attention to it anyways. He wrapped an arm around your legs and your neck, carrying you down the  dark hall to your room. Smiling softly as you curled up into him, barely protesting the sudden change of position. He pushes your already open door wide enough for him to slip through. He bent down slightly, pulling your perfectly made sheets down low enough to slip you into them. He tucked you into bed, making sure you had an extra pillow for your arm, and made you comfortable. Steve turned to leave, but was quickly stopped by a sudden pressure on his arm. He was alarmed at first, but as he looked down, he saw your small hand on his forearm. He turned back, finding you groggy, but awake.

"Don't go, please." You pleaded, half awake you was braver than fully awake you. "I- The nightmares, I don't wanna deal with 'em tonight." You were always so happy during the day, so it pissed you off that at night you were kept up with terrifying nightmares, PTSD from the war, Bucky dying right in front of your eyes, freezing and being woken up seventy years later. You dreams were always a horrid mix of all the trauma you've endured, recently at least.

Steve couldn't say no to you, who knows the next time you'd actually ask for help. He placed his hand on top of yours, trying not to make it weird by overreacting. With his eyes crinkling at the corners, he motioned for you to scoot over. He pulled the covers back once again, sliding himself into bed next to you. To Steve's surprise you curled up right next to him, head on his chest and hand over his stomach, and began snoring almost immediately after he laid down. He closed his eyes, slowly drifting of to sleep too, he couldn't quite name the emotion he was feeling, but it sure was lovely.

Steve didn't wake until you started shaking. You were jerking in your sleep, body and head twitching in opposite sides as you mumbled various words to low for Steve to make out. He watched as your entire body tensed, convulsing as you attempted to fight an imaginary enemy, arms reeling. You're expressions bordering on being in pain, Steve wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. He dodged a couple of rouge punches and a very concerning headbut, but eventually he had entangled himself enough in you that you weren't able to fight him. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"Shhh (Y/N), you're safe. You're okay. Nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm around I promise." He repeated himself a number of times, trying to console your sleeping mind as best he could. He knew how to help, he knew what to say, he knew you wouldn't remember his help unless you woke up. You had them more often than you realized and Steve was always there for each and every one.

"Everything's okay (Y/N), you're safe, it's just us, I promise." Love exuded out of every word he said, you were his lifeline, and he was going to make damn well sure you'd be okay.

You woke up in the middle of your nightmare. Mind still racing from the horrific scene you'd dreamt, bombs, screams, explosions, the team crying for help, you fought like hell trying to save them, but failed every time. You could still hear the sounds, even wake you could hear them in the background as you fought an already defeated enemy. You froze, feeling strong arms around you, you tried to fight, you tried to free your arms, use your feet, anything you could think of until you heard his voice.

Steve.

"S-Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper, low and frightened, you were sure Steve wouldn't even hear it.

"Yes (Y/N), I'm here, it's okay, you're okay." He squeezed you harder, giving your paranoid mind a rest as you buried your head into his shoulder. You cried, practically soaking his shirt with your terrified sobs. The dreams were always so real, and never the same. You never knew if it was going to be torture, or Bucky screaming that he never loved you. Regardless, they were always terrible and never came with a happy ending. You were relieved to have Steve there, he was warm, which is always a plus, and comforting. The two of you laid there until you ran out of tears.

"S-sorry." You wiped your nose, sniffling as you apologized for being so emotional. You tried so hard to keep everything to yourself, that when it slipped a little, everything comes tumbling down all at once.

"Nothing to be sorry for, just won't be wearing this shirt for the rest of the night." You felt Steve chest shake as he chuckled, warming you up from the inside out. You moved off of him so he could change, but he ended up just taking the shirt off and laying back down.

"You should be thanking me for not keeping that in your bed much longer." He teased. "Pretty sure I heard it dripping." You wiped the remaining tears away, grinning as his stupid words created a small amount of joy in your heart.

"Shut up." Was all you could manage to say. Thinking ill thoughts about Steve was difficult in general, but with his arms wrapped around you, holding you while you cried, playing with your hair, it seemed damn near impossible.

// I’m having so much fun with this concept and have so many ideas on where to take this, you’re gonna love it! Shoutout again to @lunathepettuna for being an awesome human being and inspiring me to write this, love you!!

Let me know what you guys think, what you’d like to see, and some crazy vocab words and I’ll write accordingly, thanks for the read, and may Odin bless you in all your endeavors! //

#bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky #steve x reader #steve rogers #steven grant #captain america #shield #steve x you #steve x y/n #avengers #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel #winter soldier #love triangle #love #best friends #friends to lovers

[sugar-petals]

Sub!RM Analysis: The Case of Jessi

On request by anon. As always... With body language! ❤️

Previous analyses: Sub!BTS ◆ Sub!JK ◆ Sub!Yoongi (pt.2, pt.3)��◆ Sub!Tae/Hobi/Joon

One thing’s for sure: Namjoon gets active being courteous with assertive ladies. He becomes super focused, gets excited easily (read: horny), makes tremendous efforts, is flirtatious, shy, cute. I reckon no other member in Bangtan can be as suave as RM. Not even Jimin. Who’s the Prince of Charm as we know. But it’s all a bit chaotic, extroverted, and depends on the mood. Namjoon is so deliberate being consistently smooth, the understated way. And herein lies his strong point: He knows the method of how to always put her first. 

Now our interest here is how that goes together with his submissive side. A perfect exhibit of how Namjoon gravitates toward dominant women, gets along well, and is being suave, where do we find something like that. I think we can actually get quite a lot out of the first mins of Hello Counselor, May 2015. In which Namjoon was conveniently seated next to the domme in charge: Jessi. We all know what she prefers:

Jessi’s dominant through and through: public image, behind the scenes — even if she can be gentle, on stage. It’s true that she amps it up there, don’t get me wrong. But she is known for a very direct approach in person wherever she goes, and has always hinted at being similar sexually speaking in her songs, from Noona Kinks to leashes:

She’s a good, close to foolproof example if we want to look at dommes. RM, believe it or not, met her, they interacted a lot, and something surprising happened. 

1:42 It’s already the first scene and he’s at it. Jessi, being her dominant self, is confronting the MC quite confidently. And what does RM do? He shifts his body closer to her. He didn’t look like he noticed. I did. Caught you, Joon.

2:07 Now that Jessi is at full throttle taking over the show as always, Joon gets coy. He looks down and fiddles with his cuff. Boy’s nervous. Look at that smol bean.

2:14 Unlike Taehyung, Joon looks at her performance smiling and stares. He nods his head along to the rap but then tries to avoid looking at her? No, His eyes go up to the left, upwards. That means accessing memory, emotion, and thinking. He’s analyzing what she says, too. Note his entire body’s moving to the rhythm while most of the other cast members sit still. That guy is feeling it and tries to figure her out at the same time. 

2:38 More nervousness. This time: touching the calves. He often caresses himself to be calmer. His rap intonation is strangely sharp there, obviously, he’s trying to impress but not overshadow her because he keeps it brief. Jessi, of course, is super happy and claps, flips her hair to the side. Acknowledgement!

3:34 More peacocking. Namjoon clumsily dances backwards right into her zone but his face says smug. That was no coincidence. He looks back at her twice. She imitates the moves. He’s satisfied with the results and looks at Tae like good job! Now Jessi is a bit nervous and fiddles at her tank top. She always pushes her hair back to flirt, exposing the neck (pheromones, showing an erogenous area to kiss, you know how it goes), and guess on which side? Namjoon’s. 

4:08 They’re back to the start: Namjoon messing with his own shirt. A minute later, it’s his plushie pillow. Do you see how they went back and forth? That’s mirroring — aka they like each other. You’ll see it all over, especially when both clasp their hands the same way. It’s good chemistry, a good dynamic.

6:04 A classic tough-minded joke by Jessi. Nobody looks at her laughing except Namjoon who is genuinely giggling with her turning his head. But downwards, looking at her from below. Subservience! As he does that, her front foot shifts towards him! Then, they lean their bodies to the exact same side. 

9:01 Again, their bodies sync to align. Joon is busy stroking his calf again. Then laughs his ass off to ease the awkward tension when Jessi gets a negative spotlight and super pissed since she fits the rapper stereotype that the mom criticizes. He also sends sceptical, uneasy gazes and a crooked smile to the mom. You can tell by the expression, “oh dear, what does she say to Jessi next...”

9:45 They almost touch! By him pointing at Jessi’s knees during the torn jeans joke. And he uses both hands for that, not just one, wtf! Even a flat palm just hovering there lmao. Physical Freudian slip, that guy is dying to touch her but won’t since he catches himself (good boy). Jessi, however, is leaning back either way, it’s unclear whether he dodges or not since she faces the other way in the first place. She is rather uncomfortable at more negative focus on her created by the hosts, so Namjoon again tried to ease the situation. 

Meanwhile, they have completely synchronized their positions — Jessi crossed her legs, Namjoon clasped his hands, both got themselves a pillow to hold on their lap: 

Notice again how she keeps her hair to the other side so he can see her face/expression.

12:38 Perfect simultaneous head turn! 

13:16 While Jessi has a mad as fuck glare toward the rude daughter, Namjoon is busy pulling his lip down with his pinky and thumb? What! Like hello madam, don’t mind the drama, how about kisses instead (remember her neck display earlier. it fits). Again, he tries to distract from Jessi getting into trouble. It’s really a consistent topic how he accommodates.

When she is very straightforward, RM says appeasing things. It’s striking that he doesn’t get aggressive, offended, contemptuous, or tries to resist like most men Jessi rightfully calls out but works his way around being diplomatic. Even if he is not part of the conflict, he still backs her up, and that says something about how selfless his affection is apart from wanting to seize her attention.

I think their dominant vs submissive inclinations sort of polarize but right when it gets interesting, they sort of disperse because other people get the screen time. For the rest of the broadcast I just noticed they return to sync pretty often, Jessi looks at him quite intently, and keeps her hair from falling to his side at all times :’) 

So this is what we got. Take a look yourself. I think his behaviour is quite notable: wanting her close, always endorse, impressing her, being pretty nervous because something’s at stake. He’s definitely the kind of sub who will show his fondness quite readily (à la Taehyung or Jimin) instead of going into his shell waiting for initiative. I observed Jungkook and Yoongi doing this many times which is simply their unique manner of doing it. It takes another type of domme for that. Namjoon will be demonstrative and supportive right away on the other hand. And that’s a good closing note describing his way of submission, he has a lot of what I think the modern devoted gentleman can offer a domme.

#jessi #namjoon #sub!namjoon #sub!bts #analysis #namjoon analysis #bts analysis #jessica h.o. #jessi analysis #dom!jessi #sub!taehyung #sub!jimin #sub!yoongi #sub!jungkook #sub!rm #jessi spirit animal #hello counselor #bts headcanon #bangtan analysis #rm analysis

[whiskeyxcola]

The American Initiative

Part One

Summary: Grace Cleveland and Eleanor Baker both thought their lives were over, until they became part of something much bigger – the Avengers.

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 1470

Warnings: Death, mentioned a couple of different ways, but not detailed; canon divergence; more based on Marvel movies.

Masterlist

A/N: This was the first Marvel fic I ever started, and I’m super excited to share it with you all! Thanks to @captain-s-rogers​ for your help, approval, and encouragement on this one!

Tags: @captain-s-rogers​ @the-murder-strut​ @delicatecapnerd​.

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Six extraordinary beings gathered in the conference room of the S.H.I.E.L.D training offices, making light banter and catching up while they waited for someone to come in and lead the meeting they had all been called to attend. Up to this point, they had been enjoying a nice time off between missions; Nick had assured all of them there was no grand mission -- yet -- but it was of the utmost importance that they attend this meeting.

“Good afternoon, team,” Nick Fury greeted, taking his place at the head of the table before sliding a folder to each of them. “Appreciate you coming in on your time off.”

“Oh, we had a choice?” Tony quipped.

Nick ignored him. “Our mission at this point is one of a different kind. Two new members will be joining the team, but they will require training first. The folder in front of you details their history.”

He waited for the team members to review the folder, anticipating the inevitable surprise at a single word in the folder: enhanced.

“I’m sorry, isn’t that what we’re trying to avoid?” Bruce asked.

“We were,” Fury confirmed. “But since our intel tells us that Stryker’s experiments have been highly successful, the American government decided we needed to be ready to answer that obstacle. I present to you, lady and gentlemen, The American Initiative.

“Two women were chosen, for different reasons, from among fifty candidates, to receive the experimental ‘treatments’ to enhance their abilities. Exhibit one, Eleanor Baker. Twenty-five, declared brain-dead three months ago after she went through the windshield of a car and suffered a severe brain bleed. After three weeks in a coma, her family opted to allow her directives to execute.”

“Which were?” Natasha frowned.

“Ms. Baker chose to donate her body to science. Dr. Armando Roland is a close friend of mine and called me with a report of Ms. Baker’s case. S.H.I.E.L.D opted to take advantage of her directive and put her into the Initiative program. She is now fully alive, functional on her own -- and then some.”

Bruce’s frown deepened. “How exactly was this achieved?”

“With a serum similar to the one Steve was given that enhanced his physical makeup,” Nick answered matter-of-factly. “We’ve been trying for years to isolate the serum from his own cells, with little success. Finally, our R&D department found a way to use Steve’s DNA to create a new serum. Fortunately for us, it worked beyond our wildest dreams. Though Ms. Baker has little to no memory of her life prior to waking up in our facilities, she is now telepathic and a mind-reader. She also shows great potential with the little training she has already been through for agility and combat. It’s possible she possesses other abilities that we are not yet aware of.”

Steve pursed his lips as he perused the paperwork in front of him regarding Eleanor Baker. He had never once regretted his decision and agreement to receive the serum injections that changed his whole life, but he did feel some empathy for this young woman who had not been given the choice.

“The second candidate, Grace Cleveland, was chosen from the FBI’s witness protection program. Ms. Cleveland had previously worked for a bounty hunting agency in her Kansas hometown, and on the job was witness to a serious crime -- the murder of a Senator. She was taken into custody under the guise of accusations of association with the crime. When it reached my ears that she was not entirely confident with the witness protection program -- and also has the same accuracy enhancement as Clint -- I sought her out, giving her the option to be completely off the grid. She agreed. The experimental serum that she received has enhanced her accuracy even further, as well as her math and reasoning skills -- she’s no Spock, but she’ll get the job done. Her agility and combat skills seem to be enhanced as well.”

“So you created a genius,” Tony commented. “Guess Clint and I should be shaking in our boots.”

Clint snorted, but Fury only smirked. “I would be.”

“When do we get to meet these American enhanced?” Thor asked, shoving the closed folder away from him.

“Right now. They’re downstairs in the training room as we speak.”

No group of people had ever gotten up more begrudgingly. The truth was, they liked the team the way it was, and even with the added abilities, they weren’t jumping at the opportunity to expand.

When they arrived at the training room, crowding in the doorway, the two women were running sprints across the training room floor. No one on the team knew what they had expected, but it certainly wasn’t the two young women that were here in tank tops and gym shorts and ponytails.

When their sprints were completed, Eleanor nudged Grace and nodded toward the door. Grace nodded, downing a good amount of water from the bottle in her hand before approaching the group, Eleanor close behind.

“Grace, Eleanor, these are the Avengers,” Nick said before introducing them one by one. “Take it easy for the rest of today, get assimilated into your quarters, and tomorrow you’ll start training with them.”

Both women nodded, saying nothing as they left the training room. Tony smirked.

“You know, Nick, for all the stuff you said they could do, I wouldn’t have expected them to be mute.”

Nick chuckled to himself. “They’re careful with their words, that much I can assure you. Romanoff, I’m entrusting them to your care tonight. Tomorrow, they’ll begin training with you all -- I’ll leave that to your good judgement.”

Natasha left with Nick then, following the girls towards the dormitory area, while the men stood around, arms crossed over their chests, still processing this new development.

“I want the accuracy girl,” Clint spoke up.

“Sure you do,” Tony returned.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Not like that. I want to start her training.”

“You do know he said training, not initiation, right?” Steve joked, knowing from the look on Clint’s face exactly where the other man’s mind was at. “I’ll start with Baker tomorrow. I’d like to see how similar her experience is to mine.”

“Perfect, I can make my tee time,” Tony said before excusing himself from the group.

Thor laughed. “Big man, little stick.”

Tony turned around to wink at all of them before continuing on his way. Thor quickly caught up, bantering with Tony about his golf outing the next day. Steve and Clint, the only two left behind, turned to each other.

Steve raised a brow. “Why do I feel like your idea of training tomorrow is far different from mine?”

“Because it probably is, Cap,” Clint smirked, clapping the other man on the shoulder before leaving the training room.

After quick showers, Grace and Ellie convened in the hallway outside their neighboring rooms. Food was sounding good, but they weren’t quite sure what their options were.

“Ladies,” Natasha greeted before shaking hands with them. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Eleanor Baker.”

“Grace Cleveland — and you’re the Black Widow.”

“I am,” Natasha confirmed, only a little ashamed of the proud smile that tugged softly at her lips. “Fury asked me to show you around.”

The women exchanged a glance. Receiving the message from Ellie, Grace nodded and turned back to Natasha.

“Agent Romanoff, do you think you could show us to the kitchen first?”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll take the long way around and map out the facility on our way.”

Both women paid close attention to the landmarks within the building that Natasha pointed out, committing them to memory; it wouldn’t take more than the one guided tour for them to remember where everything was situated.

“I’m off to my own training session,” Natasha told them once they arrived in the kitchen, “but now you know where my room is if you need anything. You’ll be training with Steve and Clint in the morning, so I would get some good rest tonight.”

Turning to leave the room, Natasha winked at her new teammates on her way out the door. The women turned towards each other.

“Why do I feel like we are going to have to prove ourselves before we go on any real mission,” Grace sighed, not meaning the statement at all as a question.

Ellie shrugged. “We have a lot to overcome before even worrying about any missions.”

Grace pursed her lips and headed for the cabinets, surveying their options for throwing a meal together. As she pulled items from the shelf, she let go of the angry breath she had been holding onto since their introduction to the current Avenger team. Ellie wasn’t wrong, but Grace wasn’t interested in overcoming — she only wanted to move forward.

#marvel #fanfiction #the American initiative #part one #clint #Clint barton #hawkeye #steve #Steve rogers #captain america #ofc #Clint x ofc #Clint barton x ofc #Hawkeye x ofc #Steve x ofc #Steve rogers x ofc #captain america x ofc #osprey #liberty force #lmnopqueue

[thoughtsoftheantagonist]

A Song for You

Chapter One

Juice Pov

Being back from Ireland was different. The cali heat was a blessing but it didn't have the stillness he seemed to have found peace within, Ireland was fucking beautiful but it wasn't home. This was home, the sound of bikes and steel-toed boots on the lot was a close second on his comfort gauge, Looking over he saw Tig and Kozik working on a car and couldn't help but shake his head. When they all left those two would rather snarl and spit at each other let alone sit at the table together. It was a good thing he guessed, whatever made this club stronger and more stable was a win in his book.

Taking a swig of his beer he looked up at the rumble of another bike, and stopped short seeing what looked to be a sons Dyna but looking closely he saw the shine of a candy apple red gloss paint job that wasn't known to him, sure the drag bars and nine inch riser were the same, and the exhaust pipes were wrapped so no chrome was seen like a lot of their bikes. But he sure as shit didn't know a son who rode a red bike. Putting his beer on the table he stood and saw Chibs and Tig following his lead coming to check this out as well, seems he wasn't the only curious one today.

He heard the thump of what seemed to be a jersey remix and tried not to laugh, he actually liked that song but his brothers wouldn't ever know that and as he got a little closer he saw the music from an ipod speaker system in the tank, much like the one on his own bike he would be lying if he said tech geek in him wasn't impressed, He moved his eyes from the bike to the rider, and almost groaned, from the pair of thick denim clad thighs straddling the bike he knew it was a woman, he always had a weakness for a women with thick thighs, dark and tight fitted jeans showed off those legs perfectly, stuffed into a pair of what looked like army regulations boots. Her shirt looked like something from the 90’s a sequin smiley face on the black fabric of her tank top, a dark green men's flannel was so large over it she was swimming in it,  He was about to ask her to take off her face guard helmet before Tig opened his fucking trap, idiot. “Can I help you, sweetheart? Need help running that or do you need some bows detailed on it?” He rubbed his fingers over his lips to hide his grin at Tigs smart ass mouth, one of these days Tig would let his lips flap to the wrong woman, get his bottom lip slapped. And on that day he would marry said, women, he swore to god he would.

He was going to add on but the face he saw when she took off that helmet and shook out that mane of dark brown curls had him speechless. Her skin was a tone lighter than his but he knew she was of Hispanic descent. Her lips were painted in a dark red and pulled into a teasing grin as she fluffed out her hair but he couldn't see her eyes yet, She turned the bike off and looked at the two behind him before he finally got a look at her eyes, fucking hell he had never seen Hazel eyes so gold before, set into her small round face her eyes were hooded and lined in black. She smiled and stood and for once Juice found himself the tall one, she couldn't be more than 5,2 or 3. He got a good look at her body and took his bottom lip between his teeth, she looks so fucking soft to the touch. Thick thighs, her stomach was a little rounded but he honestly didn't care, sure he had slept with a few crow eaters here and in Ireland whose body type wasn't even close to hers but he always saw his ideal old lady fantasy as a woman with meat on her bones. A woman with thighs he could dig his fingers into, he smirked as she glared daggers at Tig over his shoulder.

She looked Looking up at him and smiled, his face relaxing and pulling into a grin to match. “What can I do for you?” Her eyes shot to Tig once again before she looked back at him. “You handsome? We can talk about what you can do for me later. But curls behind you can watch his mouth about my bike candy before I slap his fucking lip. I need someone to point me in the direction of one Happy Lowman.”

“And why the fuck should we help you smalls? You ride into SamCro territory and expect us to help you with no name and no fucking idea who you are? And you also threatened my fucking lip I'm not feeling very helpful” The look on her face as it turned to stone was something that gave him pause. He knew that face, he had seen happy make it for years now, he knew right then that they underestimated her, she nodded and took a deep breath before elbowing her way through the space between himself and Tig with surprising force for someone her size and bolted for the clubhouse door, Chibs reaches to snatch her up but she seems to quick for him, The door to the clubhouse slamming the door open and the scream that comes from her painted lips makes him pale. “DADDDDDDD!” he ran after her to find Tig with his gun trained on her and yelled “Tig what the fuck put it down she ain't armed! Put that shit down you asshole!”

She whipped out a suppressed Glock 17 from a hidden holster at her back and held it between Tigs eyes. Keeping her eyes on him she spoke to Juice. “I'm always armed handsome never forget that.” He was trying his hardest to not get turned on by this small, fierce woman. What kind of nut job was he that he was finding himself turned on by the person holding his brother at gunpoint. But the cold look she was giving Tig as she held him at gunpoint was something he only ever saw in his brothers. She wasn't a kid with a gun, that was the face of someone who had killed before. The sound of yelling had the rest of the club filing into the room, he saw Happy run in, his face oddly anxious and when he saw what was going on and aimed his gun at Tig with a snarl. “Get that fucking gun off my kid Tig!” Tig dropped his gun in shock. Seeing the gun lowered the women put hers back in the holster under her shirt before throwing herself forcefully at Hap. All of us looking between Happy and the girl as he wrapped her up in a hug, her feet dangling off the floor as he held her close, pressing kisses to the top of her head, his mind couldn't keep up. Happy was a dad? And said child was a beautiful fucking Woman? Why did he keep her from the club? Too many questions were bouncing off the walls of his skull.

He watched Happy set the girl on her feet he turned her around to face the club, and now that they were near each other he could see the similarities between them. Their noses are similar, the way their eyes were shaped. But other than that he guessed she looked like her mother, Happy put his hands on her shoulders before he spoke to the club. “Guys, this is Joy Lowman. My daughter. She is twenty and lives with my mom in Bakersfield. I'm sorry I kept this from you guys I just.” He had a feeling this was hard for Hap. He wasn't a very open guy and he could honestly he admired Hap for the dedication he had to this club. To this family even if Hap sometimes scared the fuck out of him. “I didn't want her in this but apparently this brat has other ideas.” Joy smirked and leaned her head back into her father's chest, as the others slowly closed in on her to make their introduction.

He kept back and watched her, finding himself smiling as he watched his brothers taller and broader frames almost swallow her whole,But he shook himself mentally and looked down he needed to put a leash on that shit, she was his brothers kid, not a fucking crow eater running around for him to stare at and chase. Looking back up at her face and saw her watching him, her eyes taking him in nice and slow before meeting his eyes, he smirked when he saw the flush on her cheeks and the dark tone her pretty golden eyes had taken. Seemed he wasn't the only one feeling something, he tuned back into the conversation as the other crowded around her, he listened to Happy introduce everyone.

Joy Pov

Being back with her father felt right. The smell of his cologne and his deep voice was home. She loved her grandmother more than anything but she was her father's daughter and no one understood her like he did. Never having known her mother she wanted to be everything her father was, sure he never stopped telling her about her mother, the beautiful fire-haired and golden-eyed girl who didn't take any of her father's shit. Her favorite story was of the day they meet, her sixteen-year-old father's mouth wrote a check his ass couldn't cash when he hit on her mom and her mother, God rest her soul turned him down flat, leaving him on the busy street corner to watch her walk away. And she had seen her dad as a teenager, he was a looker and hadn't heard no much from females, he said he didn't know what made him do it but he kept finding her in town whenever he got the chance, after weeks of following her. Of talking to her and learning about her, she finally said yes, a year later they married and she was born. And not long after she was gone, she knew her dad missed her mother every day, the years without her had made her father angry, losing the love of your life was hard, he told her it was easier knowing a part of her mother was with him through her helped, her dad wasn't a man of many words but when he did speak. His words had meaning. she knew that she kept a part of the man her father really was secret from the world and this club.

She knew he was a killer but he did what he did with the Sons for her and her grandmother, he had mouths to feed as a young man and he was a good killer, and if he could use that to get his family fed, then he would do it, and along the line killing became easy and she appreciated that once she got older he never lied about it when she asked him. She didn't feel disgusted or anger that he dad was a killer, it was a fact and she wasn't as innocent as others liked to think she was. Her hands were stained too He might not have been around like a lot of dad's but when she needed him he was there if possible, he taught her to protect herself, to take down men bigger and stronger than her.

Her grandmother was an amazing woman but it was time for her to earn her share in this. She looked at the man from outside, handsome as she called him was a fitting name for him, he was looking at her father so she took in all she could. His jeans were loose and slung a little low, his white shirt contrasted nicely against his cut and she felt the heat rise up her neck when she saw his inked arms crossed over his chest. She had always found inked men attractive, it was true that a girls first love is her father and her dad wasn't inkless, most people would look at men like her father or handsome and instantly see danger. She saw a damn good story to learn and someone who knew life wasn't easy.

In the parking lot, she had wanted the others to piss off so she and he could just stare at each other, his eyes were dark like her fathers but where her dad's eyes could be cold. Handsomes eyes showed nothing but light, and that smile? Are you kidding me? That wide dopey grin he gave her for calling him handsome lead her to believe he didn't hear that much which made her kinda sad. She hadn't lied when she called him handsome, but she wasn't sure if he knew that. His jaw was strong and his eyebrows heavy, and his skin was oddly clear for a bike, looked smooth to the touch. He seemed stern like her father but then he smiled and she saw something in him that this life would rip apart given the chance and she vowed to herself to protect him. If not just a friend then more.She was like her father that way when she saw something she wanted she would have it. She saw them all closing in and she tuned back into the conversation just as her father started pointing to the men around her, and the women she missed behind some of them.

She smiled as her father pointed out a salt haired man and the dirty blonde male next to him.“Joy this is the president and one of the first nine Clay Morrow. And the VP and his stepson Jax Teller.” She held her hand out but was surprised to be pulled into a hug by the large president looking over at her father wide-eyed she quickly glared when he was smirking at her, she didn't mind hugs, she was very affectionate, but all these giants made her a little nervous and her dad knew that, the smirking shit bag. She would get him later. Being put down she was passed quickly around the room into many tattooed arms. Jax, Opie, Tig who apologized for the gun and yelped when she whacked him on the nose like a dog and he quickly passed her to Chibs, and Kozik before she stumbled and fell into the arms and warm chest of the man from the parking lot, she really needed to know his name, her eyes almost rolled into her head at his scent, motor oil, leather and good weed mixed with mint. Looking up at him she flushed as he grinned. “I'm Juan Carlos, but they call me Juice.” she bites her lip as he clenched her tight for a moment before getting her stead enough to release her. Smirking she patted his cheek and whispered loud enough for the others to hear. “I think I'll stick to calling you handsome.” the men around her chuckled at the dopey grin that spread across their brothers face, all but Happy who frowned, looking between his grinning club brother and his flushed daughter.

She turned and saw her dad watching her and juice closely walking back up to him she wrapped her arms around one of his and nuzzled her cheek into his arm. She knew he would confront her about Juice later, but for now, she wanted to just be close to him.

Juice POV

He had been right. She was as soft as she looked, when she had stumbled and fell into him, he found her clumsy nature oddly endearing. Having her that close let him get a whiff of her scent, apples and weed smoke, it was heady and made his mouth fucking water. She was bold, calling him handsome in front of her dad and his club but he kind of liked it, the way Happy glared could be a problem but if confronted he would talk to his brother and be honest. Seeing the small women cling to her father was interesting, she was very childlike next to her father's imposing stature but he knew this life took them out on runs for days to weeks at a time so it made sense for her to cling to him tightly, maybe it was second nature by now.  

Once Introductions had been made everyone scattered and the women zeroed in on Joy, Gemma at the front of them and the cornered animal look on her face made him smirk. Good to know the Lowmen fear of Gemma wasn't just in Happy. Moving over to his corner he snatched up his computer and put in his headphones. Looking over a few things for the club time got away from him as it usually did, looking up he started when he saw happy sitting in front of him, watching him with the blank ass creepy look he got, he swore sometimes hap had already killed him twenty different way before he even caught him sometimes.  Yanking the headphones from his ear he looked around to see everyone in deep conversation, seeing Joy talking to Clay and Jax he looked back to happy. “What's up brother?” Hap was silent for a moment, just watching Juice and then he leaned in close. “Don't make her cry.” with that he left Juice, staring at the spot He vacated. He blinked and looked back at the numbers on his screen. Did Happy Lowman give him the ok to talk to his daughter? Shaking his head he was going to put his headphones back in before he heard Joy's voice and almost dropped his computer as she asked Clay. “So what's a girl gotta do to become a prospect around here?” he looked to Happy seeing him staring blankly at his daughter, Clay was laughing, he thinks clay thought she is joking but judging by the look on her face she is very serious. Holy Shit she wants to be a Son…...

Joy POV

She watched as Clay pulled himself together, she looked over at Jax and bit back a smirk at the shocked look he was giving her, guess they never had a woman around who wanted to be more than an Old Lady or Crow Eater. Sure she had mad respect for those ladies for different reasons, they both kept this club running in very different and similar ways. But she had her eyes on a bigger prize, she wanted a cut of her own, be the first female Son in the history of the MC and she didn't plan to let it drop, even if Clay turned her down today, she would be back tomorrow. Clay finally saw she was serious it seemed, he narrowed his eyes and leaned towards her. “You either have more balls than brains or your daddy over there gave you one hell of a poker face kid.” She smirked and leaned until they were nose to nose. “Last I checked I'm all woman and graduated with 4.0 so that's out, And second I'm shit at poker. So as I said. I want to be a son. Tell me how.” Clay stood over her slowly, forcing her to tilt her head back to look at him, she never liked how men tended to do that when they wanted to make her feel smaller than she already was. She sighed and did the next best thing, taking her stool she had been sitting on and she stood on top of it and glared down at him, shocking not just him, but everyone in the club, aside from her father who was making his way over from the bar, mentally cursing the mix of his temper and her poor departed mothers, Irish and Hispanic was a thunderstorm of a temperament mix.

“I don't like being stood over it's a cheap form of intimidation boss man, now are we going to talk this out like equals or do you plan to glare down at me like a child. I'm not trying to be disrespectful but I grew up knowing about my dad's work. He didn't lie and he taught me well. I kept me and Nana safe while he was gone but now she is doing better and I'm ready for this, ready to put in work.” Looking around at all the men and Old Ladies she saw most of the women looking at her like she was out of her mind, except for Gemma. If anything Gemma was eyeing her in a new light, she didn't know exactly how she felt about that yet so she looked to Juan she saw him watching her closely, a slight smile on his face. She almost swung behind her when she felt hands on her waist, looking down she saw her father and sighed as he pulled her down from the stool planting her firmly on her feet once again, giving her a look of warning before letting her go.

Looking back to Jax and Clay she looked at them seeing a silent communication going on before Jax spoke. “Darlin forgive us for the shock and apparently cheap forms of intimidating you” She knew he wanted to smirk but the glare still on her face seemed to stop him.  “But no women have come in here with the intent to patch in. Marry or fuck in yes, but not wear the cut. Are you prepared to get blood under those pretty little nails?” He locked eyes with her, she could see now why he was VP. He was asking her more through his eyes then his mouth would in this crowded room, she nodded and pulled the top of her shirt to the side. Showing three smiley faces on her collarbone, just like the cluster on her father's lower abdomen, looking at her dad she saw him grace her with one of his quick smiles before she let her shirt go. “I have killed before. Like I said my dad taught me well. I don't flinch, might not love it as much as my dad” Even Clay got a nice chuckle out of that. “But I'm indifferent when it comes to doing dirty work and as for my nails. They are gel polish it doesn't chip so don't worry about those.”She winks and felt herself slightly relax at the grin on Jax’s face. Looking back to Clay she waited for him to say something, looking around he nodded. “We will take it to a vote, if and I mean fucking if this happens your going through hell. You will be treated like any other shit head earning their patch. I don't care if you're on the rag and in agony, we tell you to do something fucking do it with a smile.”

She laughed and held out her hand to shake once again finding herself in Clays barrel-like chest. Feeling a kiss placed on the side of her head he whispered to her. “Just like your damn daddy. If this happens kid you're making history.” she nodded and whacked him in the back. Seeing all the men standing she looked at them all and oddly enough found nothing but respect from these giant, rough group of men. “All right men, church. We have things to discuss. Juice take her to a room until we find one for her, maybe haps for the moment then get your ass in here.”

She kissed her father on the cheek before following behind Juan. She kept a good pace behind him and was she ever happy with her view. Seems he had nice ass under all those layers, seeing him stop she looked back up to see him watching her over his shoulder that damn lip of his between his teeth. She shrugged, flashing him a grin. “No shame here. I like to take in a good view when it's presented to me.” Brushing past him into the room she tapped him on the ass and tried not to giggle when he jumped. Looking around the room she curled her lip.

Her dad was a fucking pig she swore he was. Looking around at the trash and what looked like women's underwear littering the floor. She Looked back to Juice she shuddered and asked him for rubber gloves and several trash bags. He vanished for a moment before reappearing  handed them over with a smirk and pulled something from behind his ear and she almost whimpered when she saw the beautiful rolled joint, looking at him she snatched it from his hand and grabbed his face in her hands, leaning close she planted a smacking kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You Juicy Baby are my new best friend.” putting it behind her own ear, she looked around the room, already sectioning the room in parts in her mind so she could clean the fastest way possible. She realized she hadn't heard the door shut so she looks back to see Juan just looking at her with a small grin, fuck he was cute. She smiles and grabs him by the shoulders, turning him around she pushes him softly out the door, waiting for him to turn around before she talked again. “Go talk business, I'll be cleaning and if your back in time we can chill.�� With that she closed the door and leaned against it, letting the breath she had been holding release. Running a hand through her hair she silently cursed, fuck why had she come on to him so strong. She wasn't normally a girl who went after a guy first, but something about him called to her. She wanted to be close to the vibes he sent out and she hadn't felt that for anyone before and if she was honest it did worry her but she wasn't someone who went against her gut. Hopefully, she didn't scare him off. Focusing back on the room she went to her dad's stereo and pressed play. Nodding along to the music as she got to work.

Masterlist for this series 

AN: I hope you love this. it's my baby, let me know your thoughts and See you next time. 

P.s.I own nothing except Joy Elizabeth Lowman

#juice ortiz x reader #happy lowman #jax teller #sons of anarchy fic #plus size oc #clay morrow #gemma teller #chibs telford #tig trager #opie winston #herman kozik

[dirty-wwe-imagines]

Demon King

Demon King smut Demon Finn Rating : M smut smut smut!!! “So why is he so into demons? He knows they aren't real.” I discussed at the table in catering with some of the women's division. We chattered about how people had their make up styles and how some stuff was just so over the top. Just like Finn and the “demon". He got so into character about it too. Skulking around the backstage area and avoiding contact with anyone and everyone. Just watching them as they kept their heads down and walked by. Paige laughed as she saw the subject on my conversation staring so hard at the back of my head he could have burned a hole into it. “Uh well the demon has chosen its next victim. Look.” She nodded towards his direction and giggled. I turned around and make eye contact with Finn who was sitting in the chair at make up as they started painting the demon face on his upper body. I gulped hard. My face reddened knowing that honestly minus the demon believing Finn is fucking hot. He's quiet, and strong, and fuck just so hot. Getting lost in my thoughts I felt my face becoming red. I had to quickly wave it off so the girls wouldn't make fun of me. “See that's just not normal. If someone makes eye contact look away. Don't keep staring. It's rude.” I mumbled as I shoveled more of my food into my mouth trying to distract my mind from running into one of my fantasies about him. “Well lady's I'm going to go get ready” Paige jumped from the table and walked over to make up sitting across from Finn and began talking to him. As he kept glaring at me. Once Paige was done with her makeup I walked over to get mine done as well. Figuring Finn had to be done by now. But he wasn't. I sat down to just start a staring contest with the “demon”. I shifted in my seat trying to avoid at all cost the flair but I couldn't. I felt like I was an ant about to be squished at any moment from his intense glare. I chatted with the girl that was doing my makeup. And we laughed and cut up. After a while I glanced up and Finn was no longer there. I felt instant relief. “He's weird” I mumbled under my breath as we applied my lashes. “What's with that guy? Does he really believe he's a demon?” I asked outloud. “No, I don't believe I'm really a demon.” His voice sent shivers down my spine. “I know I'm the demon king.” I spun my head around to make eye contact with the man who was so close to my face I could feel the breaths from his nose hit me. I gulped again. “They aren't real Finn. Just this is crazy.” I waved my hand up and down his body pointing out his body paint. Focusing on the paint on his jaw. God damn he's fucking hot even in this ridiculous paint. “Learn to whisper. I've heard everything you've said since sitting at the table.” he said as he walked away. I rolled my eyes and turned back around to finalize my makeup. “Who does he think he is. Fucking looking sexy as fuck in that stupid make up that stupid paint. Stupid fucking 'demon king’ that doesn't exist!!!!!!” I was ranting as I walked down the hallway to the locker room. I stopped as I heard the demons music flood in. “What is the big deal?” I turned around to go watch his entrance. It was spectacular… I was livid. The crowd exploded with excitement. I couldn't help but smile. Finn won his match and I watched the whole time. Realizing I was fantasizing about the demon fucking me in the middle of the ring. Before I knew it he was walking back up the ramp to come backstage. I scrambled to get to the locker room. I tripped over some of the wires and hit the floor hard. “Fuck!” I said as I jumped back up saw Finn had seen me and took off running to the locker room. “Shit shit shit shit.” I kept saying as I ran down the hall trying to hold my sweat pants up. I slammed the door to the locker room and walked over to my bag. I needed to get into my gear. Taking off my tank top and I dropped my sweatpants to the floor. I heard the door open thinking it was one of the girls coming to pick on me about falling flat on my ass. “Go ahead make fun of me for watching Finn, and for falling. But damn we have to admit he's sexy as hell.” But no one said anything back. I was pulling my top on when suddenly the lights cut off. “Not funny turn the lights back on.” Still the room was silent. I could hear my heartbeat and a faint sound of someone shuffling near me slowly. I turned around to be fully embraced by the darkness. I couldn't even see my hand Infront of my face. Or I think I had my hand Infront of my face. I began to panic and quickly turned to my bag and fumbled through it trying to find my cell phone but remembered it was in my sweat pants pocket. I dropped to my knees to feel the floor searching for my pants. I was breathing heavy freaking out. “What the fuck is in the room with me.” finally I found my phone and turned in the flashlight​ light mode , I jerked around the room shining the light until I was met with the glare of the demon king. “Fucking hell Finn!!!!! Don't do this shit!!! It's not funny. I almost had a heart attack.” I screamed at him my voice shaking. He really freaked me out. Without saying a word he crawled towards me like he does going to the ring. Slowly skulking closer and closer. My hands were shaking so bad the light was flashing from him to the wall next to him. “Damn it Finn it's not funny! I'm done playing childish games!” I demanded with still my kinda terrified voice. It's at that moment I realized I was sitting in the middle of the floor in nothing but a thong and my ring gear top. I quickly dropped my phone to cover up. “ Finn seriously I'm like pretty much naked… this is childish.” My phone had fallen face up so the flashlight still illuminated the room. Finn had stopped in his tracks as I panicked to try and cover up. He didn't take his eyes off me. “Off…. Take it all off…..” he mumbled is a low growl. I looked at him puzzled. “ What off? Take what off? I've hardly got anything on! You came barging in here while I'm trying to get ready! What if one of the girls was in here naked??? What if I was naked??” I was just bitching at him at this point trying to feel around and fumble my sweat pants back on. The demon never took his eyes off of me. I felt like he was undressing me. And I wanted him to. I had so many dirty thoughts about him I could probably make the demon turn into a saint. But I'd never tell anyone that. They would think I'm nuts. Finally Finn stood up, “ if I turn in the light you have to take off all of your clothes. I'll show you how real the demon is.” I was baffled he even could dare try to justify that. But then I noticed his bulge, I simply nodded and licked my lips. I mean if I can just see what this “demon king” is working with I'd be happy. Maybe find a vibrator in a similar size, deal with my fantasy one way or another. He oh so gracefully walked over to the door, turned the light on and locked the door in such a quick motion that I hardly even noticed. “ Stand up” he leaned against the locked door and crossed his arms. “Fine whatever 'Demon king’.” I made air quotes with my hands as I stood up. “ Do you seriously expect me to undress for you? Haha don't be such a child!” I couldn't help but try to continue to act tough. I wanted to undress, I wanted him to take me in the middle of this floor. I wanted him to do so much to me it was tightening my stomach and making my head spin. While I was off in my own thoughts he had stepped closer to me speaking but I couldn't hear anything that he said. He got closer and closer until there was only the air we share between us. “I said take off your clothes” Finn finally yanked me from my thoughts when his face was close to mine that his lip was touching the tip of my nose. I suddenly felt his hands on the shoulders of my ring gear top and him slowly begin to pull it over my head. “Finn seriously this isn't a good place.” I whispered It's like nothing I said even registered for him. He tossed my top onto the floor and began to undo my bra and his mouth harassed mine. Our kisses were hot and desperate. It's like he had wanted to do this to me for about as long as I wanted him to fuck my brains out. Frustration must have set in because he suddenly stopped kissing me and ripped my bra off and threw it next to my top. His hands rubbed my body up and down until he got to my thing and he snatched it off like a bit of string. Stepping back he looked me up and down smirking that stupid smile he gets. “I hate when you do that.” I mumbled covering my body with my arms “I hate when you talk about how the demon is fake,” he kissed me hard, “ how you talk about me to your friends, how you think I'm weird.” He began to rub my breast, making me gasp. “ But the demon knows your dirty, dirty, thoughts. How you've wanted me to do this for way too long. How you want me to fuck you in the middle of the ring. How you get turned on by the sound of my voice, or entrance music. You've wanted this since the moment we met.” He was right. Something about him was dark and I wanted it to fill me. I wanted darkness. I wanted to know what a demon fucking me would be like. I knew it was all a gimmick but holy fuck it was a hot one. I bit his bottom lip as we kissed passionately. He jerked his head back and looked down at me. His body paint had smeared from our body and from his match. And let out a low growl. I leaned back and bit my lip trying to look sexy. He snatched My body hard into his and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he kissed me hard, taking my breath away. I reached down trying to move his trunks down to expose his cock. After I couldn't get my hands to work with me he grunted and walked to to the wall putting my weight against it. He reached down and pulled off his trunks. I felt it spring free hitting my leg from me still having my legs wrapped around him. In a swift move he pushed his throbbing cock into my oh so wet pussy. I bit down on his lip again trying to hold back a moan. He's so thick! My pussy was throbbing trying to accommodate what's just been added. I could feel him smile against my kisses. “Fuckkkkkkk!!!!!!” I kept gasping as he built a rhythm. “ I swear if you tell ANYONE!!!” I couldn't say anything else without moaning. He was slamming into me so hard my legs were shaking. I could feel my orgasm building already. “Shit.. Finn I'm gonna …. I'm gonna cum…” Our body slammed into each other with a loud wet slap. He hit down on my collar bone and muffled, “Call me demon king.” I did as he said and my orgasm hit me like a truck but he kept slamming into me harder and harder digging his hands onto my hips. I yelled and moaned softly much louder than I had expected to. But as I did our demon king slipped into an orgam too. He spilled into me still thrusting and grunting. He held me against the wall still in me catching his breath and kissing my body. “Don't talk shit about your King, Queen.” He lifted me off of his still hard cock with a grunt. I stood there my legs trembling. My orgasm had been the hardest I've ever had. “Finn… please… let's do that again.” I blushed looking at the floor and covering my naked, sweaty, and body paint covered body. He smiled and picked up my phone that was still on the floor. “ I'll put my number in here. Call me when you get to the hotel parking lot. We can room together from now on.” He looked over at me and kissed me. “Demon Queen” I smiled “ Demon King” I could get used to that.

#Wwe #wwe fics #Finn #Finn Balor