#these tags may not make complete sense bc I’m tired

[daz4i]

ok. a post to brainstorm doa chuuya bc i gave myself mild brainrot over it just by putting those words together

if any detail in this post inspires you to make art or write a fic please on god tag me if you post it or send it to me 👀👉👈

so. i have a few ideas and unfortunately i can’t quite get them to gel together into one, so i may as well list them all

the mentor fukuchi option

fukuchi got him out of the research facility around the time he was 14-15ish, and, well. mentored him - taught him to fight and basically put in his head all these ideas about unifying the world

i imagine chuuya would be loyal to him, but still somewhat suspicious, esp when he can’t remember his past. speaking of

the bait option

idk if bait is quite the right word? but, like. the way sigma is kept in the doa - he’s promised something he simply can’t say no to. and that thing is information about his past, kept by fyodor who gives him small bits after every mission he completes - just enough to keep him going, but not enough to make him feel fulfilled and want to leave

i’m not sure where this would fit with the timing in his life, but i assume he gets to be in the sheep here, but not with the mafia. do the events of 15 simply not happen? does he simply say no to mori’s offer? maybe fyodor meets him on that cliff before he gets to dazai. idk.

i lied when i said there are a few ideas btw i think i only have these two. anyway the real interesting part isn’t the how and why but rather what he’ll be like when interacting with the members and such. starting with the simplest and getting more complicated as i go

(also an important detail i can’t seem to find a place to fit, but i assume the doa will have the means to nullify arahabaki before it kills chuuya, given how fukuchi has ties not only with the government but also the un, and given how meursault has cells that nullify abilities, one can assume such technology exists and in which case there’s no reason for the doa not to get their hands on it. also as i typed this i remembered sigma has this nullifying gun iirc. so they probably just have more and this is how they get arahabaki down when they need to. or maybe it’s implemented in him somehow, like they can remotely activate smth that’s constantly on him coughchokercough and “turn off” arahabaki without getting near him)

bram

yeah no he doesn’t know about his existence. at least not at first? in the mentor fukuchi option i’m sure fukuchi will show him bram at some point, right before the time of the doa’s introduction in the main story. in this case, i feel like chuuya would honestly feel a sense of kinship with bram, both kind of used as a weapon of mass destruction, except unlike bram he can leave if he wants to (but... can he really? a bit harsh to think about, so he doesn’t like, go out of his way to interact with him)

sigma

“oh my god. another sane person. thank you”

like bram, def a lot of sense of kinship here, but more about the “i only remember the last few years of my life” thing. i feel like they could actually be friends even beyond that, tho. they’re really similar in a lot of ways and they could def bond over it, and i think having someone like chuuya around would make sigma feel better about the whole thing, which i think will make him even deadlier, more desperate to stay in this place he calls home. also, chuuya could back him up in the casino arc, and. um. yeah the hunting dogs will not survive that one

nikolai

nikolai finds out chuuya can technically fly and loses his shit. chuuya will become his new favorite person (but like, the way sigma is, not the way fyodor is). chuuya does not like that to say the least, but he does like to train with him sometimes bc nikolai can help him hone his reflexes

eventually nikolai would get tired of him tho imo? at least in the pre-canon part. chuuya would just be annoyed with his antics, no surprises, and it’ll get boring for nikolai. then he’ll find out abt the arahabaki thing and immediately chuuya is the most interesting person in the world again. he will definitely try to get him to use it constantly. he would love arahabaki sm.

during the actual story tho, after nikolai defects, i imagine he’ll want to free chuuya too. maybe he’ll steal his choker at some point, store it in his overcoat. “prove your free will by possibly be willing to die if you let arahabaki run loose” sort of thing, but actually it’s secretly “don’t be confined by what fyodor and fukuchi are doing to you. be your own person. never use arahabaki if you don’t want to”

fyodor

definitely the one holding the metaphorical leash over him, and chuuya knows it, and hates it. if we go by the “fyodor coming to recruit him at the end of 15′s events” route, he’ll hate how much the guy reminds him of dazai. also he thinks he’s creepy. still, he respects his plans, and does as he’s told for now, but he knows damn well not to trust fyodor. i imagine in said recruiting moment fyodor would probably kill some/all of the sheep to give him a sense of helplessness and like he has no other option but to go with him, so naturally chuuya would resent him for that

like p much everyone else, he has no idea what fyodor’s ability is, but he noticed pretty early that fyodor seems unkillable, so he doesn’t even try. something tells him that despite his own immense power, he won’t be able to kill fyodor, so he picks his battles carefully and never even tries (tho, maybe in the future. maybe i could offer more insight once we learn what fyodor’s ability is and what’s the deal with his supposed immortality)

fukuchi

father figure (derogatory)

i kinda of already got into it in the mentor fukuchi option, so as a tldr, chuuya respects him, is loyal to him, but is suspicious of him

however in the other option i feel like the knowledge of fukuchi being a part of a terrorist organization despite his position would kind of make him... bitter? also eternally curious if fukuchi was somehow involved/knew people who were involved in the arahabaki project somehow. he tries to keep his distance from him, just do what he’s told so he can get what he wants, without getting involved with things bigger than him

i imagine if anyone encourages him to use arahabaki a lot - for actual strategical reasons, not like nikolai who mostly thinks it’s cool - it’d be fukuchi (fyodor would not want to rely on smth this chaotic unless there’s no other choice, imo), which would also make chuuya resent him a bit.

also i wonder if fukuchi would ask him to infiltrate the hunting dogs with him in any of these options. could also be interesting, and also oddly fitting tbh.

anyway yeah that’s all i have for you now. would love to hear your own ideas, or takes on what i already wrote here, just be respectful!! and again if any of this inspires you in any way, please share, i would love to see 🥺

#gonna tag this as #bsd chuuya nakahara #the decay of angels #bsd au #yeah that's enough lol #dan rambles #i will be the first to admit i don't have the best grasp on chuuya's character #so if i'm way off in your opinion on anything here. feel free to offer your take but again just be respectful abt it!! #man some of this feels like a potential fic material. wish i knew how to write 🧐 #i def feel like i forgot smth important so i might edit this post later

[liquidstar]

i've been doing your lil tournament but i just keep wondering. what are your ocs like. for. like. what's the story. what's the LORE. i want the lore give me the lore

I have an actual story and stuff planned out for them but i have no idea when I’d get around to really making it (I’m so tired all the time and I wanna get to a more stable place to be able to commit to it bc it really matters to me)

I started working on a blog to function as an oc wiki but sort of left it alone for a WHILE so… augh it’s a lot but I did write a loredump in there, if you’re really curious i’ll put it under the tag here! Feel free to just vaguely skim it too lol

A power that arises as a personal reflection of the user's worst defect can be awakened within every single person in this world. This ability is known as one's "Ethos," a fundamental quality that determines what gives something its identity, the motivation driving one's existence, and the principle that drives all of their actions. The imperfection that individuals try to hide from, fight against, repress, and unleash. The ethos is a defense mechanism that only becomes active when a person is exposed to circumstances that, at least in their eyes, bring out the worst in this perceived defect of theirs.

People who have awakened an ethos may find it distressing or even traumatic on a personal level, but the general consensus (Or, ethos, you could say) is that they are blessings from above, destined to enrich humanity, to make us more full and flawless beings. In this context "from above," is meant quite literally.

The Divine Comet passes over the earth every century; in the midst of summer, the entire world celebrates its arrival with day-long festivities, and people travel enormous distances to witness this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. Of course, even in its absence, its impact is felt. The Comet has been documented since ancient times, and its ephemeral ethereal presence in the sky has long enchanted humans. It wasn't until a young alchemist learned how to extract its enigmatic power from it and share them with the world that it was deified. Now referred to as The Comet’s First Scholar, his aims were to make humans more flawless, to change them into more complete beings, and so these abilities were born to help smooth out mankind's imperfections.

It's impossible to know whether the comet has sentience or not; it's a cosmic being whose existence may not be completely comprehended by humans. It lacks a will, a conscience, ideas, or a brain, but it is nevertheless "alive," in a sense, but not in the way we conceive of life. Almost like a zen entity dancing infinite circles across space. When it comes to its power, you might almost think of it as radioactive or nuclear; it's an energy that could be captured and utilized for another reason, and each century that it travels overhead reinforces the strength of that energy.

Of course, there were additional unanticipated repercussions to bringing this energy to Earth. The way it may modify the physical appearance of some persons, for example, in the same way as radium does (albeit cosmic energy seems to be much nicer). Many individuals develop or are born with "[traits]," which are unnatural or clearly non-human physical features. These can be related to their ethos's growth, but they may also be inherited (It can alter people down to their DNA). Some view this to be another stage in the "transformation" of mankind into more complete beings.

However, another unintended effect is that this does not end with humanity. The Comet lacks the will or consciousness to distinguish between which beings might be impacted by its passing; it is in a condition beyond indifference. Animals lack the mental capacity that people have to recognize defects and self-reflection; instead, they are led by instinct. This has resulted in the emergence of monsters, who, to use the radium metaphor again, could almost be considered mutated. Though animals developing into monsters on their own is actually rare, remember that it often alters their DNA. As they bred overtime it has become a more and more pressing issue.

As a result, the occupation of hunter was created, particularly for those "blessed" with an ethos. In its early days, it was merely a need, but in more recent times, it’s become a badge of glory and adventure. Hunter guilds began to spring up all over the world, making solo hunters a dying breed. Joining a guild is now the standard, and all "real" guilds are registered and governed by the kingdom. It sends missions directly to guilds in various locations for members to complete, and in exchange, the individual who issued the mission request pays them. Unofficial guilds, sometimes known as dark guilds, are not recognized by the kingdom, and many of them accept illicit work requests ( theft, hits, black market trade e.t.c.). However, please do not consider the kingdom and its rule a benevolent force in and of itself either, it’s more concerned with control.

But ultimately, once the existential melancholy hits those "blessed" with an ethos, they have to consider if repression and control of perceived fault is actually what "elevates" mankind. Or are these characteristics what made us distinct beings in the first place? It's not bad to be defective; flaws contribute to who we are, our imperfections make us individuals. They may both drive and influence our growth. Humans are not stagnant beings. A person's ethos changes as a result of how they deal with their perceived "flaw." It will evolve and alter in tandem with them. Some may argue that this implies they're moving closer to perfection, or whatever the cosmic ideal is,but that would only rob them of their humanity.

#finn's ocs #ive been wanting to update a lot of ocs designs before i go back to that blog i should. really get around to it soon #i want to... #you see why i feel as though i cannot handle commitment to the whole story quite yet though lol

[daysofourlivesrecaps]

Tuesday, 16 May 2023

We got some real good blorbo action today, friends.

John and Marlena begin to engage in their long-established foreplay ritual of eating strawberries and cream. (This is, admittedly, barely a blip on the Kink Radar but I legit love that these two septuagenarians are still so into each other.)  John even whipped the cream himself! Also he brought 5001 strawberries, which is a completely arbitrary number that you really shouldn't try to read anything into.

Then Brady (John's son, Marlena's stepson; easily in his 40s and still living with these two) comes home and completely interruptuses their coitus. He whines about how he and Boring Chloe broke up and will there ever be a woman as good and pure as Boring Chloe and can you believe Boring Chloe got an apartment with Hot Xander? What does she even see in that guy, anyway?

John, meanwhile, tries to be as subtle as he can as he checks his watch and tries to remember just how long that blue pill he took is supposed to last.

(If you ever wondered if I thought I was too good to make a Viagra joke, I guess you know better now.)

Speaking of BC and HX, they are indeed still cohabitating. Chloe is lecturing Xander on the proper way to hang a picture frame (since they're all falling off the walls now) and Xander is convinced that it's not his shoddy workmanship but an actual ghost.

And sure, you may mock this notion. I did for a minute, until I remembered that the character who got *by far* the most screentime on this show in 2022 was Satan. Yes, that Satan. From school. I mean, Hell.

As he talks this out, we realize that it's *kind* of a ghost in the Scottish play sense of the concept. He's still feeling guilty about his role in the death of Susan Banks (our cat's namesake). Which is valid. We did kinda gloss over that when it happened and it's not a bad thing to circle back to.

But I immediately jumped to *we never saw her body! She could be the Mystery Hostage aboard the USS Lobsterfest!! That's gotta be why the show is reminding us about her, right?!*

Wrong. It's not Susan *or* my dark horse theory, Jan Spears. Why did I even bother hiding that in a spoiler tag yesterday?!

Von Leuschner, who is getting hotter to me with each passing day, reveals that his hostage is, in fact, Andrew. A character we've only recently met and who I'm only a little interested in because he's part of a gay couple and the show is running dangerously low on boys who kiss each other right now.

But I don't particularly care that he's being held hostage . Not when I thought of two much better possibilities right off the top of my damn head.

We also spend some time with Megan and Kristen in prison. Being, as they are, ostensibly sisters (albeit sisters who only recently met and weren't even aware of one another's existence before this year), they do what adult siblings do and pretend to show interest in each other's personal lives.

Kristen reads a letter from her daughter, Rachel, who gloats about finally breaking up her dad and That Bitch Chloe. (These are essentially eight year old Rachel's words. I would never.)

And Megan reveals that she's connected to Von Leuschner who, *btw, is actually your nephew, Kristen*. I then spent 5-10 minutes going through all the DiMeras we know and trying to work out whose kid he is. And then we find out *Megan* is his mother and I feel like a real stupid.

Having gotten the Salem Resurrection Phone Tree started to inform her massive network of relatives that she's still alive, Kate now settles in to enjoy some alone time with Roman.

"I want something," she says, and waits patiently as Roman cycles through food ("I had lobster on the boat"), a shower ("I showered on the boat, before I got into this fancy dress to eat lobster") and sleep ("not tired.")

Roman. Buddy.  She hasn't seen you in *months*. She made exactly one call before turning her phone off and putting the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the hotel room door. *She wants. To. Fuck.* What in god's name is wrong with you, man?!

#Days of Our Lives #DOOL #soap opera #Peacock

[capetowncapers]

At the end of the day, being in a relationship kind of just means choosing someone you trust so deeply that you’ll let them know you better than anyone else does.

And yes blah blah blah that’s lovely and brings with it so many soft intimacies but more importantly it also means that dating someone often means they’ll read you like a fucking book and it’s so funny sometimes

#I’m too tired to even think of good examples really but I think it’s so funny when my partner does this #sometimes he’ll predict exactly what I’ll do or say in response to smthn and his friends will be like ‘wow he said you’d do that lol’ #it’s also very nice bc he’ll pick up on stuff I don’t always say out loud and we can reach unspoken agreements/understandings on things #these tags may not make complete sense bc I’m tired #cape town rambles #tag rant #just thoughts #to an extent I’m a bit predictable as a person but we’ve also just spent so much time together that he knows me inside and out

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

I looked at a terfs blog and oh my god I’ve never felt so enraged in my life.

#personal?? #personal #me ranting #rants #like oh my GOD. I can’t necessarily say I’m offended on the transgender and non-binary parts bc um #I’m not trans or non-binary and I can’t say I’m offended in the LGBTQ sense because I’m not LGBTQ but- #LIKE. THIS made me so frustrated. I went on the blog because o read it on a picrew blog that they were having beef and so I looked at it and #thought ‘it can’t be that bad...right?’ BUT GOSH IS IT BAD OH MY GOSH I CANT- #I just- #get so angry bc oh my god why are you stupid. #there was a post of ‘if a teenager wants to buy alcohol why don’t they identify as adults’ #biss I’m sure age and gender are two completely different things but okay- #I’m tired it’s midnight and I’m frustrated and may regret this post in the morning idk. all I’m saying is FUCK terfs #and If you are one or anything else (I believe MAPS is a thing?) then get OFF my blog and stay away from me #I will argue with you and I’m not good at them but I’ll give my best #bc fuck off #anyways gn guys I’m tired and a little angry. humanity has made my faith go down a little bit lol #yea I just filled up my tags bc I didn’t want to make a full post fight me- #EDIT: There were so many worst posts than the ‘teenagers just need to identify as adults’ but that’s the only one I want to bring up bc god #what is wrong with some humans-

[leviiattacks]

CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)

#leviiattacks #aot #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x y/n #snk #aot fanfiction #attack on titan levi #levi ackerman #levi #levi headcanons #levi scenario #levi fanfiction #levi fluff #fluff #aot fluff #snk fluff #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #aot headcanons #aot imagines

[littleoddwriter]

Issues with Reader Fics

Okay, I'm probably going to be a bit controversial here. Yet, I'm asking you to hear us out, please. Fanfic writers, specifically those who write "x Reader" fics, please read this. My dear friend Jack has already made a post, where I and others have contributed our experiences and feelings towards certain issues with these fics. Those issues still prevail and therefore I've decided to make my own post, which is more of a PSA, I think. Anyway. You can and should read Jack's (@mlmxreader) post here, please. It is long, yes, but it is extremely important and will say a lot of things we will not talk about here again. Now, what this is mostly about is the tagging of those fics. Every single time, we (men and non-binary people) come across Reader fics and they're tagged with just "Reader", so, naturally we assume they'll be gender neutral then. Well, they basically never fucking are. Every time, in the first few sentences or in later paragraphs something like "baby girl, girlfriend, wife, she/her" will come up and it is frustrating, can be triggering (for trans people, like myself, especially because it can cause dysphoria), and is honestly just very excluding and rude. By doing that, you show us that you do not consider anyone but women to read those fics. Even though that isn't the case. Men who like men exist and we read fics. And we want to be able to read some that don't make us feel bad or excluded. We're not asking you to suddenly write Male!Reader fics. We're asking you to tag properly. If your reader is female, tag it as "Female!Reader" or "Fem!Reader". It doesn't take more than two seconds to do that. So, please for the love of everything good, take those two seconds and type in that one word, even the abbreviation is enough. But tag it! Please! Also, please, stop tagging "male reader" or "gender neutral reader" when it's a female reader. You won't get more notes from it. All it does is clog the tags and push down fics that are actually targeted towards those groups. So, don't do that, please, thank you. One thing I personally wanted to ask actually. Why do women read "Male!Reader" fics? This is a genuine question. Why do you, if you're a woman, read those fics? They aren't targeted at you, and frankly, I don't understand it. If I were cis and not dysphoric, I still wouldn't read "Fem!Reader" fics. They aren't for me, and I wouldn't be interested in it, even if those were the only fics for a certain character. So, if anyone could answer me this, genuinely, then I'd actually appreciate that a lot, I'm truly just curious, as I have noticed women reading my "Male!Reader" fics, too. Which is cool, as we've said, you may interact, as long as you're not creepy or fetishistic, but I still don't understand why you would read that in the first place. Now, onto what my two wonderful friends have said, when I asked them if they had anything to add to this issue, or perhaps overall, still: @iscariot-rising said, "It's just disrespectful for writers and readers alike to assume that everyone reading their fanfics is inherently female, to the point where for some it has become the standard that any fic has female reader - leading to writers not tagging their fics as female readers or mentioning in their descriptions that reader is female, instead only titeling it as "character x reader", before then three sentences in referring to reader as some sort of female term. This isn't just rude, it can also be triggering for people or make them dysphoric, if not just plain uncomfortable. Fandom spaces are something that is shared across all genders and sexualities and it is only courteous to respect this and tag your fics accordingly, since it doesn't take a long time and saves a lot of trouble for readers." And you know what? He is absolutely right and he should say it. You need to listen to us, please. @mlmxreader said a lot, too. For example, he's mentioned that there is a reluctance to even write Gender Neutral Reader fics, which is true. Even though it would be much easier, to be perfectly honest. Yet, people seem not to do it. Do y'all not want people of different genders to enjoy your fics without feeling excluded? He also said, "oh! yeah! there's also the whole thing about lingerie, too, like putting men in women's lingerie and talkin about panties and stuff, which comes off as extremely fetishising (when it's not written by mlm) as well as just... really gross bc like that stuff can trigger dysphoria and half the time it's not even tagged? Like it wouldn't be so bad if y'all tagged it; on top of that, there's also the whole fact that they assume that all mlm relationships revolve around sex and that that's all that matters. But then also using (m/n) standing for "male name" instead of (y/n), like, what the FUCK is up with that?? /gen" Again, he is absolutely right. Tag your shit, please. I know it can be tiring to pick out everything relevant, but trust me; you'll do a lot of people a big fucking favour when you tag your stuff properly. And frankly, I agree with him. I don't understand the whole '(m/n)' thing because if we're men, our names are automatically male because, well, we're male. It doesn't really make sense. That might just be a thing that personally bugs us, though, I honestly don't know. TLDR; Tag your fics properly, be respectful, don't assume everyone is female and therefore exclude everyone who isn't, just say (y/n)???, and yeah, that's basically it. Just be more considerate, please! That was it. I don't mean to personally attack anybody, but if you do feel attacked, that probably means that you're guilty of doing something I've listed here, and perhaps should consider changing that. I also wanna note that if you consider sending me threats or hate of any kind, I will delete it and not engage with it. If your first response to this post is something rude and hateful, you should take a step back and reconsider why you're about to do something so senseless. Does it help you in any way? No, it doesn't. So, what's the point, other than acting like a complete dick? Anyway, have a lovely morning/day/night; cheers!

#x reader #reader fanfiction #reader fic #reader insert #female reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #fic writing #fanfic writing #fanfic writer #this is genuine and comes from frustration rather than a place of hate #tag properly #same goes for content and trigger warnings #be more considerate #be mindful

[lvlyhao]

『127′s ideal type』

headcanons, NCT 127

A/N: je suis back~ in these headcanons i talk about the type of person i imagine each member with, along with some of the traits i think they wouldn’t be too fond of. i did NOT include physical traits (ex: “would like a short/tall/blonde s/o”) because i really don’t know them??? lmao also that kind of thing could be a bit damaging to someone’s self esteem, and i want yall to know ur perfect & beautiful so

mark and hyuck will be included in dream’s version of this, and sicheng will be in wayv’s :)

today’s gif theme is just random gifs i like bc idc, there’s no aesthetic

as always, this is gender-neutral

IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG IT AS WELL AS LIKING IT T^T

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡) and if you squint really hard angst (❆) bc of some REALLY small things that for me are not actual angst but oh well

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i think none?? if you read this and find something you think should be here let me know please!!!

word count: 1.5K

pairing: nct 127 members x reader (includes taeil, taeyong, johnny, yuta, doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Taeil

I see Taeil getting with someone who’s not only mature (personality-wise, actual age doesn’t matter) but also very determined and decisive. He’d like a person that doesn’t change their mind about things too often, learns well from their mistakes and is just all-around balanced. Other traits that I think he’d look for: politeness, a MUST; grounded; good at giving advice. Pretty much a twin-flame of his.

I think he’d find it cute if they think in a detail-oriented way and appreciate the small things in life. A positive, grateful mentality would be SO attractive to him, I swear. 

One of his deal breakers would most likely be excessive jealousy and possessiveness. He trusts you and your love for him, and I think he’d feel distraught if you were constantly questioning the relationships he has with other people (friends, co-workers, fans, etc.)

Last important thing: needs a person that can take a hit. He’s probably looking for someone he can spend the rest of his days with, so a quitter just isn’t good for that. There will be difficult moments in the future and he needs to know they won’t give up on him and on the life he chose.

Taeyong

I think Taeyong would like a calm person that knows how to take control of the relationship. He probably feels tired sometimes from leading a group of 23 people, so I can imagine he’d be thrilled if he was able to not worry at all when he’s around his partner. He trusts they’re capable of dealing with any problems that may arise and keep their feet on the ground. Bonus points if they have a good relationship with themselves.

By that I mean: you know how people say you can’t truly love others until you love yourself? Yeah, that. He’s a person like any other, and there are times when he struggles with self-love, but he needs someone that doesn’t hate themselves, or he’ll simply go crazy. With his career come so many rumours and moments that tear at his confidence… he just doesn’t need a person that has to be convinced every single day that they’re worthy of the good things in life. 

I’d say, in general, all he asks for is someone that can watch out for themselves. He’d take care of them too, but he’d like it SO much if just for once in his life he’s the one being cared for. Would just melt on the spot if you have that caring, almost parental instinct in you. Gods, yes. That’s all I can say.

Johnny

I can see him being with a very bright, smart person. He’d like someone that comes from a different background so he could learn more about their life—whether that means the country they were born in or their field of work. I think he would appreciate a very laid back person that doesn’t get stressed too often and won’t make fun of him for his bad jokes. Also, doesn’t like people that try to play him. Honesty above all.

He’d like it if they are super curious and creative, too. Picking up new hobbies and interests is something he’d be up to anytime, and it doesn’t matter what it is either. He’d give anything a try—from knitting to marine biology, no questions asked.

Something he’d dislike is if the person is too materialistic. It’s not like he’s a completely spiritual being and lives with 0 detachments to objects but he’s a firm believer in what Antoine de Saint-Exupéry said: what is essential is invisible to the eye. And, you know, what you truly find essential is up to you; it can mean family, friends, love, hope, all of that… he just wants you to love life itself as much as he does.

Yuta

He’d probably like one of the two drastic variants: a very gentle, sweet person or someone who’s on his level of flirtatiousness and boldness. Wouldn’t mind any, but he needs a strong personality, either way, you know? No blandness here. 

Something very attractive to him is being involved in social issues and caring for the world around you. Very sexc, yes, and also likes people that make others smile.

Something that would make him quite literally give up on someone is the excessive fear of change, or just the will to remain in their comfort zone at all costs. He earns for a person that wants to live life to its fullest. If not they’re not ride-or-die to that level, then he hopes they at least accompany and support him in all of the things he wants to do. 

One thing that is very tied to that is his dislike for know-it-alls. He lives in such a diverse scenario that it’s just dumb for him to think someone would ever be capable of knowing every piece of information on everything that’s out there. He’s fine with people making mistakes, but if they can’t admit to that or admit they don’t know something he just gets pissed off. So, yeah, he’d avoid stuck-ups.

Doyoung

He’d like someone very loyal and fair, who treats people with respect but calls them out if they ever have to. I think he’d prefer a person that is naturally a deep thinker and wouldn’t lose their mind over small disagreements. 

Much like Johnny, he likes that intellectual side of yours, and when I say that I don’t mean like “ah, he’d want to date a math genius” or something. No, no. I’m referring to all types of intellectuality and intelligence. The thing for him is simply using your brain and being proud of it. He would just dislike a person that kind of lives life on autopilot, you know?

He’d like it if they’re interested or professionally involved with music somehow and would consider their opinions in his career. He wouldn’t mind if their taste is hugely different from his, though. It’s alright if pop music is not your favourite or if you have no idea who EXO is (lol). All he wants is to see the world through your eyes too, in all aspects of life including this one.

Will also love you forever if you side with him when he’s being teased by the others, because, c’mon, it’s always 22 people against poor, defenceless Doyoung. Please don’t join them, he’s begging you—

Jaehyun

This is very, very clear to me but he needs to be with an independent person. He’s quite sentimental and he has his more romantic moments, sure, but he wants someone that can give him the space he needs when he needs it. A person that’s constantly begging him for attention would be way more of a burden than anything else.

Also, he’s 100% alright with someone that has a very explicit and loud love language (like saying “I love you” 300 times a day) but he’s not like that, and he needs them to see that. Jaehyun could NOT be with a person that doesn’t appreciate the love he shows in the little things, like making coffee in the morning, and if they ever question the way he feels… yeah, not good. He’d feel misunderstood and that’s a big no-no.

He’d find it cute if they’re bubbly or just very youthful but is also capable of falling for an old soul that shares his interests in things like classical music and vinyls. I don’t think he’d ever get with someone that's kind of a tech addict, though, idk why but that’s quite clear to me. Always being on your phone or caring too much about social media would probably make him feel like you’re not grateful for the things you have around you, in real life. So, yeah, not attractive, bestie.

Jungwoo

Jungwoo is a very, very, very sweet person and he needs someone who’s also like that. He wouldn’t care if that’s there for everyone to see, in the sense that they’re not shy about it, or if it’s a part of them that only a couple of close people know. As long as it’s there, he’s happy.

Aside from that, I think he’s fully capable of falling in love with quite literally anyone. He can see the beauty in all types of people, from all places, backgrounds, races, and just—anyone. He’s just so full of love for people, ah I can’t even. He’s too good for this world.

Some things that could, however, push him away from getting to know someone: a negative way of thinking, being too traditionalistic, and too much scepticism. He’s fine with people that like to honour the past and their roots but like, you’ve gotta keep up with the world you live in and accept that things change. I think that’s very tied to how much he likes defying masculine standards, too. 

The scepticism thing is quite simple: he can handle teasing just fine but if they’re constantly making fun of him for wearing his heart on his sleeve or being a bit goofy, he’d feel kind of betrayed.

---

final notes: this is the 3rd nct work i’m posting here and i’m already writing more, so i think it’s time i set up a masterlist, a fic rec blog and a tag list. if you want to be tagged in my future fics, let me know (dm, comments, anything) :)

#moon taeil #nct taeil #taeil x reader #taeil fluff #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #johnny suh #nct johnny #johnny x reader #johnny fluff #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #yuta x reader #yuta fluff #kim doyoung #nct doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #jeong yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #kim jungwoo #nct jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenario

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Dew Covered Rose

A/N: So we’re ignoring the fact that I haven’t written in like......two, three months. I honestly just haven’t felt like it, and my brain has been busy thinking about writing, or getting back to my daydreams, or thinking about Midnight. Comfort character tingz. But yeah, I’m bringing Topazi back (i also forgot when juneteenth was, I was supposed to do something for her then, I missed the day, but here I made up for it :) This is mild hurt/comfort, except my OC is tired, not hurt. Also this is probably time to mention that Topazi is a gardener, and goes to clients houses to plant things for them! Enjoy!

Tag List: @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs--are--bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley

Warnings: kinda unsafe driving bc sleep deprivation, brief mentions of nudity, swearing

  Topazi had a bit of a tiring day. The house that she’d been working at had almost no shade. The customers were as nice as they could be.....but it seemed as though every tulip that she planted correctly, they would request it to be put in a different place. Even though there was an extremely limited amount of space that she had to work with. It was very frustrating to her, to be honest. However, she got the job done. It took hours of her digging things back up and wiping sweat off of her face to be happy with the result. She was sure to make sure that everything was as good as it could be before the left for home. Even the thought of having to get back in her car and do something other than cuddle up and or sleep was killing her.

  It was late into the night, and the owl in the front yard stared at her as she pulled into the driveway, eyes barely open. She took multiple deep breaths and rubbed a calloused hand over her face before stepping out of the car, not even bothering to take her tools out of the trunk. She trudged her way into the house, carefully unlocking the door, as to not disturb Klaus, who should’ve been close to sleep, or in bed at that point. She tossed the keys into the bowl by the door, and hung her coat up, silently grimacing at the soreness already developing in her arms. 

  Not having the energy to call out to Klaus, she walked into the kitchen, finding one of the cats on top of the kitchen island, fast asleep. A small smile found its way onto her face as she gently pet it, smoothing down the fur on top of her face. She made her way over to the fridge, which she opened, very slowly, to find leftovers of spaghetti that Klaus had cooked for himself. She could never stand the noodles and sauce together, so she looked around for more things. Canned soup in the pantry....she’d have to heat it up, and she needed something instant. Juice wouldn’t be filling enough. She began to nod off, looking at the fridge once more, and she found a solution that she’d looked over. A sandwich.

“Thank fuck for bread.” she thought to herself as she grabbed the bologna, mayonnaise, and cheese slices from their respective spots before grabbing a knife and paper towel. By the time she put the bread back, her sleep levels had reached almost the maximum, and she began nodding off, head on the side of the fridge. She quickly came to her senses, and trotted back over to the island, joints creaking.

  She sat down on one of the stools on the kitchen island. (”Klaus, I need the stools, if my legs don’t look like a pretzel, I’m not sitting correctly.”) As she took a bite of her sandwich (crust first), her brain decided to shut down temporarily, and she almost fell asleep eating. The suds episode of Spongebob Squarepants, however, prevented her from doing so. She slowly ate the sandwich, grateful for the purpose that it served. After she finished her first bite, however, she completely knocked out. The cat woke up, looking at her owner, before hopping off of the counter, and walking up the stairs.

  Klaus had heard Topazi come home, but it’d been a while since he heard her open the fridge last, so he went to check on her. He avoided Minnie on the steps (as in Minnie Riperton, not the mouse) and walked into the kitchen, to find his lover fast asleep, small snores coming from her mouth. He smiled, almost letting a chuckle past his lips when he realized his task.

 “She looks fucking wasted.” he thought, before gently shaking her awake, resulting in a groan of annoyance.

“Come on T, you gotta get to bed.” he whispered, rubbing her back. She leaned against his chest, and shook her head into it, too tired to utter a rebuttal.

  Klaus chuckled lightly, and put Topazi’s used paper towel in the trash can, and her utensils in the sink, to be washed when he eventually came back down for his late night (and sometimes morning) snack. He gently picked her up, leaning down to press a small kiss to her forehead. He thought back simply how much he just loved her. He didn’t know how, as he said that “I can’t fall for someone completely. At least not again.” but he did. Although, it wasn’t completely all at once though. 

 Klaus made his way up the steps (once more avoiding Minnie), and into their shared bedroom where he gently laid Topazi down on the bed. He figured that she may want to be clean when she slept as well, but was somewhat confused how he was to go about the entire “my partner is half asleep and I’d hate to disrespect her boundaries”. So, he settled on simply getting rid of her outer clothes, and bra, then placing nightie over her form. It was one of the newer ones she’d bought. She would go on and on about how “there’s tiny flowers on this nightgown Klaus, I need to buy it”.....ah he loves Topazi with all of his heart.

  He gently tucked his lover into bed, making sure that she’s close enough to her phone that she won’t be grouchy about having to move from her spot in order to reach it. Topazi stirred in her slumber, but only a bit, and Klaus went down to the kitchen for his meal, which was going to be a good old fashioned lover boy nutter butter. Klaus thought back to when he first met Topazi as he ate his sandwich. It had been right after he met his....other siblings...like other other siblings. She was quietly sitting in a coffee shop, where she had her knees to her chest, reading a book. She was deep in concentration, but when Klaus found nowhere to sit, he had no choice but to ask her. (or to leave the shop and drink his hot chocolate elsewhere, but nah)

“Um, can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the seat. She nodded her head without looking up, making a small noise of affirmation at the back of her throat. Klaus sat in the booth across from her, his shoes making a squeaky noise on the tile below. He awkwardly crosses his legs, taking small sips of the drink.

“What are you reading?” he asked, eyebrows quirked upwards. She gently lifted her book, and it read “The Human Anatomy, Down to the Bone Cell” He hmmed in acknowledgement, and resorted to looking out of the window. 

 The drops of rain raced each other on the windowsill, determined for few seconds at a time, only to puddle together in the end. Klaus stared at a single corner outside, where nobody seemed to be walking over. It was the crack where the sidewalk met the much smaller border of the sidewalk. He watched the rainwater trickle into it, and he felt himself start to zone out. But that was alright...he needed time to think.

  This, in turn, was perfect for Topazi to stop reading her book and stare at this stranger. New people aren’t really her thing, as they’re usually below her standard of who she liked keeping in her circle. She peered at the way his curls were somewhat tussled, like he’d been caught in a windstorm of some sort. (Although it’s been rainy all day, no wind whatsoever.), she thought to herself. His eyes were beautiful, but so tired, it seemed. Wonderful shade of green, she thought, too. She pondered the different shades of green that she could remember, which lead to her thinking of the floating diamond of Sims’ characters. (plumbob, she repeated, overenunciating the first syllable). She went back to the thought at hand, and looked at the hand clutching the cup of hot chocolate, still seeming to be warm to the touch, judging by the steam coming from the mouthpiece of the top.

  His hand was veiny, somewhat red, (maybe because of the heat). His fingers looked very pale though, almost as if they’d recently been subjected to extreme cold, or flashes of it. (the rain, she thought) His chest was partially exposed due to the.....vest that he was wearing (maybe he’s some sort of performer, he does have a cowboy hat) She paid more attention to his face, also tired, and glanced at his lips, but only for a moment, as she didn’t need to get exceedingly horny in a public space over a complete stranger.....again. She softly gasped when he looked back at her, and she softly smiled, getting back to her book.

“Were you just staring at me?” Klaus asked, looking back at her.

“Yes.” she replied, eyes skimming over her paragraph on metacarpals. She had a fleeting thought to wiggle her hand in front of her face in order to properly label everything, but she could do that back at home.

“Why?” he asked, his tone giving off the fact that he wasn’t in fact upset, just curious.

“Eye contact isn’t my favorite thing, neither is small talk, especially if I’m preoccupied, so I sometimes stare at people in order to get a better understanding of them.” she explained, glancing at Klaus.

“Oh, well, don’t mind me then. I won’t bother you.” he said, looking at the table. Topazi put her book facedown on the table, apologizing.

“You’re fine! You didn’t try to talk to me, and you respected me when I didn’t reply with the name of my book, verbally at least. I like that.” she replied, deciding to look Klaus in the eye.

“Oh, thank you. Care to tell me why you’re reading about human cells?” he teased, a smirk coming to his lips. Topazi panicked for a moment, because she thought “fuck....he’s a charmer”

  She did tell him about why she was reading about human cells. And why she kept scratching a portion of the book as she read. He even noticed how she bit her lip when she read, which lead him to think that she was actually reading some sort of cell erotica, only to remember what she had previously told him. They talked for hours, it seemed. For once, Topazi found someone that she could talk to and not get tired. Interests, parents, everything (maybe a bit too much). They eventually had to separate, but not after giving each other their numbers, and Klaus found a small feeling of joy in his chest as he walked out of the coffee shop. He walked back into the Hargreeves (uh.....Sparrow) mansion with a small smile on his face. His face hurt, not from too much sun, or biting his lips too much. From pure excitement and joy, he found. Bubbling out of him, steamrolling its way out into the open. His fists shook in glee, and he squealed, and he didn’t care. For once. He needed something good, and she was it. Beautiful Topazi. Wonderful Topazi. That’s the answer.

  Klaus came back to his senses as he realized that some of the marshmallow fluff had leaked its way onto the counter where he scooped it up with a finger, tempted to put it into his mouth. A few moments of thinking gave him his decision. He imagined Topazi’s look of disgust when she caught him doing that once, and stuck his finger under the tap for a few moments, wiping the water off on his bare thigh. He finished his sandwich, and went back upstairs (once again avoiding Minnie). He snuggled next to his partner in bed, breathing in deeply. Yeah....she’d need a bit of a shower when she woke up, but that’s alright. That’s alright though. She would spend the rest of the day at home, to rest from being on her feet and knees for hours the previous day. And he’d tell her how important and beautiful she is, and think about how he’d almost went to the pizza shop across the street. But he didn’t. And he chose right, so right. With no regrets, for the first time he could think of in a while.

Masterlist

#topazi marshall #topazi x klaus #klaus hargreeves x oc #tua fanfic

[mrsparknamjoon]

01. the linchpin | reliability • kth

index | next

pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 1.900 genre: drama, light angst rating: pg-13 warnings: cursing au: ceo/office trope: enemies to friends to lovers tags: ceo!taehyung, office!au, best friend!yoongi, unresolved emotional tension, mutual pining, slow burn crosspost: ao3

summary: a predictable mistake in buying shares becomes the perfect opportunity for taehyung to show everybody in the company no one is above his rules. what he didn’t know was that his plan would backfire making him question what the real meaning of trust is

A/N: this story began as a drabble bc i love dramatic scenes, whether in movies, television or books. confrontation is always one of my favorite things about them so i decided to try to write one for the first time ever. clearly i still have a lot to learn but i hope you like it!

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Another meeting, another group of incompetent people that I can't believe I hired. Sitting at the end of a long wood table, I scrolled through my phone reading a few emails while all the shareholders took their positions. It was absurd that I had to call a meeting on Friday night because of a predictable and, quite frankly, stupid mistake but here we were.

“Mr. Kim, we're ready” my secretary said discreetly as she handed me a folder filled with documents.

“Thank you” I replied as I got up from the chair and started spreading the papers on the table in front of me.

“Good evening! First, I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The reason for this emergency meeting is to talk about the purchase of a few Min Industries shares” I paused and gazed into the eyes of everyone present. Some of them were curious, tired, others frightened and one in particular very angry.

“I believe all of you realized that ever since it happened our company has started to fall into devaluation, thanks to someone’s stupid and hasty decision” I continued while looking at the documents before me. “I don't want an explanation about what happened or why it happened, just how we are going to solve it” I turned and faced my main suspect, “Today”

“Mr. Kim, if I may, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that there is nothing legally wrong with the purchase” said Lee Sung, one of our oldest and most efficient lawyers. Still, it was a matter of principle for me and everyone knew that.

“I understand, Mr. Lee, but this is not what I'm worried about” I began calmly walking around the table while elaborating my thoughts, “You see... although Min Industries doesn’t compete directly with us they have affiliates who do. Therefore…”

“Therefore it’s smart to buy the shares precisely because it gives us more control over the affiliates” said Y/N, interrupting me.

I couldn't help the smirking that escaped my lips. Y/N took the bait and it was all I needed. From the beginning, I knew she was the one leading the expansion project and everything was going well until she put my credibility with Min Yoon Gi in check.

Yoon Gi and I are old friends, practically brothers, but our families have a particular rivalry that has lasted for almost 50 years. It is nothing that explicit or dramatic. An outsider wouldn't see the animosity, for example. I see it as a truce, however, it's still a delicate matter for our parents and grandparents. When we both took over the businesses, we agreed that we would not repeat their mistakes and promised to interfere as little as possible in each other's company. If it was strictly necessary, we would have to talk before any steps were taken. That was the deal and that is why I was furious at Y/N's audacity to make a decision like this one. She was aware of our family's situation even if not exactly about what I had promised my friend.

“Are you serious, miss Y/LN?”

“Why would I be kidding?” she replied looking confused, twisting the pen between her fingers like she was bored.

“I have no idea, but to call that a smart decision, one that immediately impacts my company's profit, not to mention my personal reputation, seems like a joke. And a bad one to say the least” I said, staring at her intensely as I approached her chair.

The atmosphere got heavy and I couldn't care less. I was right and everyone knew it. Y/N took a risk, as she is paid to do, but the risk was not worth it and she needed to take responsibility for it. If it was anyone else I would have already fired without even calling a meeting. Luckily, she's a key part of the company and one of the shareholders as well so I decided to scold her in front of others to send a subtle warning that nothing goes unnoticed by me and that measures will always be taken, regardless of the level of the hierarchy. This is my way to send a warning because I don't do threats.

Y/N gulped and shifted in her chair, visibly uncomfortable with my proximity.

“So I'm going to ask you again, miss Y/N: are you serious?” I crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side, watching her try very hard not to lose her composure. I had known Y/N for a long time and she always managed to be as cold as me, yet on occasions where her professionalism was questioned her replies used to be impulsive.

“Mr. Kim, I'll be frank” she started, standing up and walking towards the pulpit next to the projection screen. “It was indeed a risk on my part to put Vante Enterprises ahead of such a high-profile acquisition and, for the embarrassment caused, I sincerely apologize”

“Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?” I asked, sitting on the chair that she left vacant.

“But"

“See?” I turned to Seo Nu sitting on my left. He laughed politely because I laughed first. Deep down he didn't think it was funny and just wanted to suck up to me. Clever.

“But I still believe that in the long run, we’ll reap great results… excellent results, in fact! Here's a chart” Y/N pointed at the screen in front of us and began to confidently defend her decision, clearly and calmly, completely different from the Y/N of a minute ago who I thought would lose her temper.

* * * * * * *

The meeting room broke out in applause as soon as Y/N finished presenting a chain of detailed information regarding the shares, and although I was surprised by the level of research she prepared, I was unable to hide my dissatisfaction as CEO by confirming that Y/N still didn't understand the problem.

“Could you guys excuse us?” I looked at Y/N and then at the other shareholders. Since the person responsible presented herself there was no need to keep putting on a show, right? I got up, buttoned my jacket, and returned to my original spot on the table to organize the papers I had left lying there.

While arranging them all in a pile, the room emptied and Y/N approached.

“You love to exaggerate things, don't you?” she snarled looking me up and down.

“You love to ignore the rules and interfere with what doesn't concern you, don't you?” I fired back mimicking her attitude.

Y/N stopped for a moment and studied my expression. For a split second, I could feel a question in the air as if she wanted to know if that's what I actually thought of her — a nosy and unprofessional person who ignored her superiors on purpose. I didn’t. She looked hurt. Still, her voice gave no indication that my response had affected her.

“I love my work! It's great and you pay me well” she said, taking the papers from my hand. “Oh, what do we have here?”

“Don't be childish, give me the papers Y/N” I motioned my hands and closed my eyes feeling exhausted.

“What are these projections? How come I have never seen them before?” Y/N's voice came out louder than before depicting a mixture of shock and disbelief. “There is no actual proof that these companies are connected, it doesn't make sense” she walked back to the pulpit, eyes glued to the documents to compare the numbers and references with the slides she had spent hours preparing.

“Y/N give me the papers, that information is above you” I demanded in a firm tone. “Besides, my intention with today's meeting was to get you to find a solution to your own mess but even that you weren't able to”

“How can I solve it if I don't have all the information, Tae Hyung?” Y/N lowered the papers she was gripping so tightly in front of her face and I could see red, teary eyes along with the angry tone in her voice. She hadn't called me Tae Hyung since college and that felt like a blow in my stomach.

“If I had known that the companies were connected I would have thought twice before buying the shares... I…” Y/N's voice failed but she cleared her throat and continued “...this is your fault!”

“Mine?” I asked dumbfounded.

“You left me in the dark and I made an important decision without having all the information” she pushed the papers onto my chest and started pulling the projector's wires angrily, “This is not what I call trust”

“Seriously? Are we going to talk about trust? Bit ironic, don’t you think?” I started chasing her around the room while she collected her belongings and threw them into a big purse.

Y/N snorted like what I just said was absurd.

“You know very well the situation between my family and Yoon Gi's. I always made it clear that we don't do business with them and yet you went there and did it” I placed my hand on top of her purse, preventing her from continuing what she was doing. “Where is my trust in you now?” I questioned her almost in a pleading tone.

Y/N pulled the purse off the table in one swift motion and I almost lost my balance.

“You know what? You're right. I was wrong” she said, looking defeated. “I shouldn't have shown interest in shares that involved Yoon Gi's company, but you definitely shouldn't have hidden these documents from me either” she continued taking a few steps back, slowly moving away from me. “And that's where you fucked up. You're still obsessed with secrets and rules, keeping everyone who tries to help you away"

“Wait a minute” I interjected. This was unfair, it was not like that.

“I'm not done talking” she gazed at me very seriously and I had no choice but to stop and listen. “I know that we have differing opinions on many things and I have teased you too much in the past 10 years with my analysis and requirements, but I never... I say never... would do anything that would harm the company”

“I know” I whispered, feeling kind of dumb for blurting it all out like that.

“It doesn't look like it” she placed the purse on her shoulder. “For me, you're trying to find a reason to get me out of here”

My jaw dropped in shock. Y/N had no idea how much I valued her work, and at this very moment, I didn't know what to say first. An apology? An explanation? A plea? I could have said anything, but I didn't. Not even a fucking sound. My mouth remained open as my thoughts flew through my mind at a frightening speed, making it look like I was confirming her impression.

“I’m gonna save you the trouble. I quit”

Y/N gave me what looked like a small bow or maybe a quick nod as if to excuse herself and then left the room without another word, leaving me leaning against the table without understanding what had just happened, finding myself, for the first time in a long time, completely alone.

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𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 ❤ 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸! 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ revised version: 09.25.2021

#taehyung x reader #v x reader #ceo!taehyung #bts au #bts fanfic #bts scenario #enemies to friends to lovers #ceo!au #office!au #light angst #tension #m: kth #paring: taehyungxreader #au: ceo #au: office #genre: drama #genre: light angst #wc:<2k #type: chaptered #kpop fanfic #mrsparknamjoon #reliability #bangtaninn #btsgoldnet #btshoneyhive

[so-langdon]

Never Enough - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Michael relaxes Y/N in the shower after a long week.

Warnings: Fluff, sensual situations, teasing, fingering, oral (female receiving), soft! dom! Michael

A/N: This takes place in the same AHS: Apocalypse universe, just before the bombs, but with Michael having the Outpost! Michael physical appearance.

*ALSO hi wow it’s been like a decade since I’ve posted any writings... I don’t know how popular Michael Langdon fan fics are now and if anyone will even read this??? But posting it anyway bc I’m still obsessed and in love with Michael fucking Langdon 🙃

Hope you’re all doing well and staying safe and healthy! 💙💕

Tagged!: @hecohansen31​ @greenmanalishi​ @michaelsapostle​  @blakewaterxx​ @saltyshaggymeme​ @rocketgirl2410​ @xavierplympton​

(Also not sure if any of you wanted to still be tagged in my writings, but just in case.. Let me know otherwise if you want to be removed!)

The warmth of water cascades over Y/N, soothing her body, relaxing her muscles and releasing any tension and stress the busy day has given her. She slides her hands over and through her hair, leaning her head back, allowing the warmth of the steam and water to unwind her mind along with her body. 

It’d been a long and tiring week, causing Y/N to feel overwhelmed and overworked with all the tasks and deadlines that had to be met at her job. Alongside that, Michael Langdon, her partner, had been busy with his own work, seeming to be living at the Kineros Robotics company where he had been planning a number of things. 

The two were so busy with their own jobs, their schedules never lining up, they hadn’t been able to spend any real time together recently as it’d been at least a week since they were able to sit down and actually be with one another.

They’d each be at work all day, then come home and go to bed, hardly having any time to de-stress and talk. Especially since Y/N was always going to bed by the time Michael was getting home, him following to sleep then too. But being adults, with their work needing to get done, each understood and knew they’d get time together one way or another eventually.

However, Michael could sense and feel the stress and tension in Y/N, whether he was with her or not. The two had this connection, a strong bond formed over the love they have for one another, and with Michael’s abilities, Michael could always tell when Y/N was feeling too stressed out, even when she tried to keep a smile on her face and not burden Michael. 

Knowing that Y/N had been particularly overly tired and stressed this week, Michael made sure to leave Kineros early that day so he could spend time with her and give her a relaxing evening. He had been missing her a little too much anyway.

Michael walks into their home, carrying a few bags that contain Y/N’s and his favorite take out, wanting to give them a good dinner that evening and so Y/N didn’t have to worry about cooking, along with a few other items to make the rest of the night fun and relaxing too.

Y/N doesn’t hear Michael coming home early of course as she’s in the shower washing away the day down the drain. She doesn’t hear the bathroom door open and close either, much less take notice of Michael’s appearance on the other side of the shower glass door. 

Michael smiles to himself, finding her as alluring as ever and proceeds to undress, discarding his clothes to the floor and opening the shower door. Y/N hears and notices him by that point, but doesn’t react, only wiping her face clear of water.

She feels Michael’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, causing her to smile. She places her hands over his wrists on her, turning her head back to him.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” she says as she looks at him, her tone sweet and happy, the warmth of Michael around her causing her a tranquility already more than the warm shower was. 

Michael grins, resting his chin on her shoulder. He presses his lips to her neck, mumbling against her, “Hi baby.”

“Hi,” she smiles more. “What are you doing home already,” she asks curiously.

“Decided to take off early,” Michael starts. “We’ve hardly had any time together this week and I’ve missed you too much, so I decided to come home and spend time with you.”

“Really,” Y/N raises her eyes as she turns around to face Michael fully, staying in his hold as his arms stay around her waist. “I’m sure Jeff and Mutt had a field day with that -- you leaving early just to come home to a girl,” she teases.

“They know better than to make any idiotic remarks,” Michael states, knowing how immature and annoying the two morons at his work could be. “But doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, what are they going to do? They worship me anyway.”

“Maybe they won’t do anything,” she begins, “but your girlfriend may make fun of you for being so whipped,” Y/N jokes, smiling as if she’ll laugh.

Michael lets out a soft chuckle, leaning in and pressing his lips against her inner neck, humming against her as he kisses against her. “So I’m whipped because I wanted to come home and spoil my favorite person?”

“Spoil,” Y/N repeats, looking at him questioningly as Michael lifts his head and looks at her with an amused expression.

“Yes, of course,” he speaks fluidly. “I left early and picked up our favorite food, along with some other things, and figured we could have a relaxing evening together.” He raises a hand from around her waist to her face, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin gently. “We’ve both been so busy this week, and I know you’ve been more so overworked and stressed. I want to help you unwind,” he leans in, “help you relax,” he kisses her sweetly, making her heart flutter. “And take care of you,” he mumbles against her lips before pulling back with the same amused look, mixed in with an adoring expression.

Y/N wraps her arms around his neck as she smiles shyly at him, flushing a bit from his words. “And what about you?” She asks.

Michael grins, dropping his hand from her cheek to stepping her back to press against the side of the shower wall, the water hitting the both of their sides. A slight shiver runs through Y/N from the coldness of the wall behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist after, “I want this evening to be about you. I’ll be fine.”

“I think we can make this evening about both of us just as easily,” Y/N states.

“You don’t understand that me taking care of you takes care of me.” He leans his lips into the crook of her neck once more, kissing against her. “So let me start this evening out right and take care of you properly,” he whispers gently along her skin.

“What do you mean,” Y/N asks, oblivious to Michael’s ulterior motives.

Michael smirks a bit and drops one hand from around her as he brushes the back of his fingers down along the side of her body. “What do you think,” he asks, almost taunting her as his hand slows down, trailing his fingers from the side of her hip, to the front of her and lower.

Y/N bites her lip as Michael’s hand movements gets slower, teasing her by hovering his hand over just where she would like him. At an aching pace, Michael reaches down to her heat, the anticipation building quickly due to the built up tension from all week, and he cups her, his palm pressing against her, causing her breath to hitch.

He begins with his fingers rubbing down her slit, allowing the excitement to grow inside of Y/N. The wavering of Y/N’s breathing already causes him to grin almost cockily, feeling a pride from always being able to turn Y/N on so easily.

Michael’s other arm that’s wrapped around Y/N brings her closer to him, making Y/N press her lips together as she looks at him, not bothering to hide his obvious smirk now. Y/N’s hands grasp his shoulders, her eyes fluttering closed as she feels the pads of Michael’s fingers smoothly brush through her folds and to her clit, rubbing circles against her.

Y/N’s heart begins to beat faster bit by bit as her breathing gradually becomes more shallow. Michael’s fingers rub from her clit and down her slit, towards her entrance, feeling the wetness of her beginning to grow.

“You’re already so wet, baby,” Michael speaks softly, a huskiness showcasing in his tone too as he presses his lips against her forehead.

“Maybe it’s the water,” Y/N breathes out, trying to cover up the fact of how aroused she’s getting so quickly.

“Sure, darling,” Michael smiles. “Whatever you say.”

He gathers her wetness against his fingers as he teases against her heat, spreading it up to her clit and rubbing again, earning a quiet moan from her. He focuses on his consistent pace as he rubs her, knowing just how to work her up.

Michael’s movements are slow and almost too soft, knowing Y/N is desperate for more, but wants Y/N to savor each touch and sensation he gives her so she can enjoy the full pleasure and gradual build.

“Michael, please,” Y/N breathes out as if on cue, becoming needier, biting her lip again. She was used to Michael teasing her, but it accompanied a more rough setting. This was more focused and controlled, almost worse due to the ache of the slow and gentle build, making her want more more quickly.

“What? You don’t want it over too fast, do you?” He speaks, his hands movements matching the pace with his slow and hushed but teasing tone. “You want to take it all and feel the complete pleasure, right,” Michael speaks enticingly, leaning his head into the crook of her neck, kissing against her.

“Don’t tease me,” Y/N sighs out, feeling as the pads of Michael’s fingers continue at the same pace as he rubs against her clit.

“Trust me, darling, I’m only loving you,” Michael mumbles, lips brushing against her ear and kissing her, causing a shiver to run through Y/N.

Another smirk grows across Michael’s face, lips kissing against her ear and along her neck consistently as his fingers continue working along her.

Michael circles against her clit a few more times before bringing his fingers to her entrance, feeling how she’s pulsing lightly against him. He teases her more, rubbing against her softly, causing Y/N to whine and rest her forehead against Michael’s shoulder.

He pushes a finger inside of her, his own cock twitching but doing his best to control himself as he wants to only focus on her. He pumps his finger a few times, curling, a soft whimper leaving Y/N’s mouth.

Michael’s lips press against Y/N’s neck again, giving a soft suck and small nip following, kissing against her tender skin after. Y/N’s hands tighten on his shoulders, feeling how her body is getting more hot, from Michael’s touches, the steam of the shower, the pleasure spreading through her.

Y/N moans lightly when feeling Michael’s finger curl again inside her as his thumb rubs over her clit too, adding to the pleasured sensation. Still greedy for more, unable to help it when she breathes out a heavy, “More Michael, please.”

Since Michael understands Y/N’s tension and had planned for a relaxing evening for her, he listens to her instead of continuing to tease and drawing out her yearning like he normally would when they fool around and would punish her for her needy behavior. He did, after all, start it anyway.

Michael lifts his head from her neck and removes his hands from her. Y/N looks up at him with a small pout, Michael grinning as he leans in and kisses her slowly, then lowering his head as he kisses against her collarbones, down to her cleavage.

Looking up at her as he lowers himself to the floor and onto a knee, still kneeling tall enough that the water from the shower isn’t drenching his face, he grabs Y/N and pulls her forward, wrapping an arm around her lower body, his other hand grabbing her knee and lifting her leg over his shoulder. One of Y/N’s hands rests on the top of Michael’s shoulder, the other placing back against the wall of the shower.

Michael’s eyes stay focused on Y/N’s as he leans his head forward and licks a slow stripe through her folds and to her clit, closing his eyes and letting out a low groan from her taste. Y/N lets out a shallow breath, her stomach contracting already, merely from the sight of Michael alone.

He circles his tongue around her clit, enclosing his lips after and sucking slowly. Y/N’s eyes close again, her hand on Michael’s shoulder grasping tighter. Michael pulls Y/N closer, holding her to him as his plump lips and tongue work at her bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” Y/N moans out, her mouth dropping open, her chest rising and falling at a faster level.

Michael unwraps his arm from around Y/N and brings his hand up to between him and her. He lets his finger rub against her entrance again as he sucks on her clit still. He pushes his finger inside her like before, adding a second right after and pumping his fingers inside of her at a slow pace.

He gradually pumps his fingers faster, his other hand coming to her clit and pulling back her hood to lick his tongue fervently against her more without anything in between for her to feel the full sensitivity. 

Y/N jerks feeling all the sensations together, her lower body moving forward as she grinds against Michael’s tongue. He pumps his fingers, curling them as Michael opens his eyes and looks up at Y/N, his thumb that holds her hood back, moving lower to rub over the sensitive nub, and adding his tongue as he licks around and over it too at the same time for more pleasure.

Y/N begins to thrust her lower body forward more, practically riding Michael’s face as she feels the contract of pleasure inside her body beginning to grow, deeper and deeper. Her body starts to tremble, her toes curling as the build gets bigger.

Michael sucks on her clit harshly as he thrusts his fingers inside of her faster, curling every other second, knowing how close she is and feeling desperate to taste more of her.

Y/N’s hand moves to the upper back of Michael’s head, grasping at the roots of his long locks as the pressure inside her tightens more, feeling how close to the edge she is.

Michael keeps at a consistent pace with his lips and tongue on her clit, his fingers pumping inside her, humming against her from enjoying the taste of her, the way her body grinds against his face, her body jerking lightly.

The coil snaps finally, the release of undeniable complete pleasure flooding through Y/N’s body, the tension from the week disappearing in waves as a relaxation and gratification overcomes her.

Michael is sure to suck and lick up every bit of her before standing up, including sucking on his fingers to taste as much of her as he can. Y/N’s chest is rising up and down heavily as she catches her breath and comes down from her orgasm, looking at Michael with a lazily content expression.

“Feel better,” Michel asks rhetorically, smirking and grabbing her waist as he holds her to him. “I know this week has been overwhelming, but hopefully you’re feeling more relaxed now.”

“Getting to spend time with you helps me relax,” Y/N smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck as Michael’s arms around her waist hold tighter. “But, that was quite the treat, too,” she bites on her lip, smiling again after.

“Was quite the treat for me, as well,” Michael leans in, grinning, his nose lightly brushing against Y/N’s, making her smile more, and he kisses her. “Now, let’s get out so we can enjoy the rest of our evening together.”

“But what about you? You haven’t given me the chance to relax you yet,” Y/N says, unwrapping her arms from around Michael’s neck to resting on the front of his collarbones, slowly dropping her hands down his fit chest.

“I told you, taking care of you takes care of me. Besides, I’m not done with you yet,” Michael informs, his words holding a husky and sensual tone.

“Oh? What else do you have planned?” Y/N asks curiously, her eyes filling with a curious excitement.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Michael leans in slowly, letting his lips brush over Y/N/s teasingly, making her lean up to close the space between them, wanting to kiss him. But Michael leans back more, smirking as he senses the growing want in her again for him.

He kisses her a second later, knowing he can’t hold his own self back from kissing her for too long. He grasps her cheek, knowing no matter the amount of time they have together, it will never be enough with her.

~

Hope you enjoyed!! All feedback is appreciated <3

#Michael Langdon #AHS #American Horror Story #Michael Langdon imagine #Michael Langdon story #Michael Langdon writing #Michael Langdon fan fic #Michael Langdon fanfic #Michael Langdon one shot #Michael Langdon oneshot #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x fem! reader #Michael Langdon x fem reader #Duncan Shepherd #Duncan Shepherd imagine #xavier plympton #xavier plympton writing #xavier plympton imagine #cody fern

[tyongf-nct]

Idk if my previous request got in or was deleted but i wanted to add to it anyways hehe. Soft dom! Jaemin and/or Jeno with innocent! fem reader, corruption kink and dirty talk maybe 👉👈 😔 luv u btw

Omg yes i think this was one of the ones that got deleted! I chose jaemin bc i don’t think i have written any soft stuff for him yet :D also this may or may not have been inspired by a p@rn video i saw on twitter sfhsfhsidhf hope you enjoy!

dynamic: jaemin x female reader

warnings/tags: smut, soft dom!jaemin, innocent!reader, slight corruption kink, lil bit of dirty talk, sweet and caring jaemin bc why not, jaemin praising reader, oral sex (male receiving) 

~

Jaemin stroked your cheek with a certain softness, smiling gently as encouragement as you got closer to his impending length. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off as you were seated on your knees in front of him. You sat back on your heels, a quick rush of nerves running through you as you prepared to take him in your mouth for the first time. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to--in fact, you really wanted to, but all the previous times you and Jaemin were intimate, it was always him doing something to you. You wanted to return the favor, and the groan that he had let out when you stuttered out your request was almost too hot to handle. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just take your time,” he spoke softly. You took a deep breath, nodding as if to reassure yourself, and grabbed his pink cock with one small hand. You opened your mouth to take him in, accidentally doing too much at once as you gagged slightly. Jaemin grabbed your hair to pull you back a bit, letting you breathe a little easier as he used his other hand to stroke your face calmingly.

“Slow down, baby. You don’t need to go so far. Just focus on the tip and use your hand on the rest,” he instructed. His quiet tone and hands on your head brought a sense of calm over you, relaxing the tense muscles in your shoulders and giving you a boost of confidence. You could do this, you could make him feel as good as he made you feel.

You tried again, focusing on the tip like he said and stroking the rest of his length with your hand. Once you started to get into a rhythm Jaemin relaxed a little more too, cursing under his breath and whispering quiet praises.

“Yeah, t-that’s good, babygirl. Just be careful with your teeth,” he groaned. You tried to open your mouth further, hollowing your cheeks and prodding his tip with your tongue. Apparently that was the right move, because Jaemin let out a sudden moan and bucked his hips closer to your face. His length moved too far down, touching the back of your throat and making you gag again. He cursed, pulling back out completely and looking down at you with a worried expression.

“Shit, I’m sorry y/n. That was too much. You just took me by surprise with that tongue thing, is all. You look so fucking innnocent and then you do something like that,” he said. You started to laugh, coughing a little to clear your throat and wiping away the tear that had escaped your eye.

“It’s okay, really. I’m just happy I’m doing something right,” you said. He smiled, relieved and still stroking your face with a reassuring hand.

“Don’t worry about if you’re doing it right. You’re perfect no matter what you do, alright?”

You nodded with a smile, greedily taking him back in your mouth without warning. A laugh bubbled out of him, quickly silenced by a pleased moan as you moved your tongue on his tip the same way. This time you moved your other hand down to his balls, squeezing ever so lightly as your mouth worked simultaneously. 

“Jesus, y/n, where’d you learn that?” He groaned. You looked up at him through fluttering lashes, relishing in the sharp angle of his jawline as he threw his head back in pleasure. The defined muscles on his abdomen stood out beautifully, a thin sheen of sweat building on his pale skin. His hands never left your head, a calming presence in the middle of an intense moment. Your mouth was starting to get tired from being open so long, so you closed your lips a little tighter and used your hand on his cock to pump a little faster. The volume of Jaemin’s sounds increased as well, the fist holding your hair pulling as the intensity increased. 

When you released his length with a small pop and licked a long stripe from the base of his dick to the tip he came unexpectedly, dilated pupils watching the come coat your lips from above.

“Fuck! Fuck, that’s so good, princess,” he moaned loudly. A small droplet of come managed to find its way into your mouth, your face immediately scrunching in displeasure at the taste. Jaemin cackled, apologizing profusely and using a tissue from the bedside table to clean off your face.

“I didn’t mean to come all over you like that,” he laughed, “That just felt so fucking good.” Warmth from his praise washed over your entire body, pride swelling in you at your accomplishment.

“I guess it’s a good thing, knowing that I was alright at the very least,” you said. Jaemin pinched your cheeks with both hands, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a wet, loud smack despite your protests.

“It was more than alright, y/n. It was perfect. Will definitely be doing that again, if you want to of course,” he winked with a cheesy grin. You giggled, nodding and standing up to stretch your sore legs.

“How about I give you a little something in return for all your good work?” He tilted his head to the side with a satisfied smirk. You nodded eagerly, hormones flooding your already warm body as Jaemin picked you up and tossed you onto the bed with a flourish, screams and giggles filling the room.

#asks #anons #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #tyongf-nct

[the-finch-address]

Tag: Word Find

Tagged by @sharraus! Thank you!!

tHO isn’t at the stage where I can find half of these words in a comprehensible state since most of it is Draft 1 gibberish. So instead I’m using the opportunity to write something new for each prompt; some being canon from the book and others just standing as an excuse to write the characters interacting. Bc of this the length got a bit......Out Of Hand. Sorry about that. Putting it all under the read more so I don’t bombard anyone’s dashboard

> Prompt: Work [Note; This occurs years before the plot begins]

Vestiel ran his fingers through the grass and picked at early yellow blooms. The harsh clang of metal against wood echoed around him, the sounds of the forest easily lost behind it.

“Can we go home soon?” he whined, “I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.” His bottom lip is brought between his teeth, and he waits. Clang. Clang. Clang. “Please?”

The axe stills. Andi turns, wiping the sweat from his brow while fitting Vestiel with a look. Magpies trill in the wake of his silence, the flutter of fallen leaves following the breeze. Andi straightens his back. “Silas won’t have finished dinner yet, lad, the sun’s still well up the sky.” He answers, looking annoyed, “We’ve plenty of light to finish this up first. Fill the baskets if you’re so restless.”

He reaches for the axe again. The disappointment must have shown on Vestiel’s face, though, since the tool remains lodged, and Andi continues to look distracted. He knew the boy was too young to understand how important this work was, how it kept them warm and fed. He couldn’t blame a child for prioritizing an empty stomach over harsh and thankless labor. Still, that morning’s storm had downed too many trees to not take advantage of. It had to be done.

“Tell you what,” Andi resigns himself, a weary smile lifting his eyes, “I’ll let you do a few strokes, but Vestiel-”

The boy is already up and on his feet, dandelions forgotten in the sunken spots of grass where his legs had crossed, “You mean it?” He brightens, “I can do it all by myself?”

“Listen to me,” Andi lifts a hand, demanding attention, while the other remains on the hilt, “you’ll start with the axe wedged in and bring them down together-” he offers a stern look, “--and I don’t want to hear any complaints. This is your first time, I don’t want you lopping off a toe or, North forbid, a whole foot. You need a feel for the tool before you do anything else.”

Vestiel acknowledges this with a hasty nod, the muttered agreement of “Yeah, yeah, sure” crossing his lips, hand already reaching for the axe.

Andi comes between him with a harsher expression than before, eyebrows raised expectantly. Vestiel lets out a sigh.

“The axe will start in the wood. Got it.” The impatience hasn’t fully left his tone, but it’s an improvement, and Andi appears content by it.

The wood is already a narrowed size when the axe is driven through its flesh. The blade settles halfway down the block and wedges itself firmly along the grain with little resistance, just on the edge of splitting. He brings it to Vestiel, who takes the closer end of the block with his left hand and the hilt with his right.

“Now, you’ll want to bring it down towards the back of the splitting block,” Andi starts, “Make sure you do so with both hands together, or you’ll only-”

Clang. Vestiel opens his eyes, already knowing that Andi is going to ring his neck for having closed them in the first place. All is forgotten at the sight of the severed wood, though, and he can’t help but be excited with the results. It isn’t perfect by any means, but it’s his, and he’s no less proud of it despite his brother's hand-holding. He looks to Andi in hopes of praise.

“Mother’s grief, Vestiel, have some patience!” Is the chastised response he receives instead. “You couldn’t have at least waited for me to finish?”

Vestiel makes a sour face. “I did it fine, didn’t I?” He retorts, “Isn’t that good enough?”

Andi raises a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose, a long and tired breath escaping him. After a minute of patience himself he’s able to give Vestiel the reaction he was looking for. A smile, small but proud. “It’s not bad for your first time,” he says, “but you’re going to need more practice, and patience, than that if you want to hack apart whole trees in a few years.”

He extends a hand to bring Vestiel near, pulling him snug against his side. “You did well.” Andi continues, “but, lad,” his voice lowers to a stern whisper, and

Vestiel pales, “If I ever see your eyes closed with an axe in hand again, you’ll sweep the whole corridor. Twice.”

He swallows harshly and answers only with a nod. The pride blooming in his chest doesn't falter.

> Prompt: Weather

The evening sky flashes white, casting shadows across paintings framed in gold and goblets of silver. Across the room, Caprice of the North hunches over a desk painted in candlelight. He draws a finger across the map in study of its various routes and borders, frowning. Behind him, thunder crashes down. He flinches. Pitiful.

Shaking away the thought, the young deliverer refocuses. His back arches further towards the desk until braided locks of gold spill over onto the wood. Especially now, as he squints in the darkness of his shadow, does he wish this dreaded storm had chosen another night. It brought a miserable chill to his bones despite the grizzly pelt draping heavily over his shoulders and brought an ache to his bones.

Lightning comes again, its brilliant light cutting into the room with the swiftness of a sword’s blow. Capri anticipates it this time. When thunder claps against his window he’s decisively ready for it, his knuckles gone white against clenching fists. He can’t stop their trembling no matter how tightly he’s squeezing.

A knock at the door sends him out of his skin.

Like a sharp wound, the anticipation drives him into a panic. Young flesh grasps aimlessly for a new frame to stretch into, finding nothing but mortal bones. By the time the door swings open he is straightened, remembering a human form, begging the drum within his heart to settle.

Silence greets him. A form approaches from the doorway and draws towards the light, illuminating their features quick enough that Caprice’s hand stills where it rested on the hilt of his sword.

“Dove?” He relaxes and lets himself breathe, forcing air into his lungs with more effort than is needed. “I thought you were with Eivind."

“He was needed elsewhere,” Dove signs. His hands portrayed a sense of disappointment where one couldn’t be seen in his expression, brown eyes seeming indifferent.

Caprice looks away shamefully, “You didn’t have to come,” he says.

“I wanted to.”

His gaze again lifts to meet the other with only a grunt, reluctant to answer in words for fear that his voice might betray him.

Light consumes the room with blinding force and concurrently Caprice’s hand reaches blindly for the edge of the desk to ground himself. It’s silly, he thinks, ruined pride staining his cheeks red. Internally he’s counting the seconds as they go by, steeling himself.

Dove reaches for him--

Capri recoils just as thunder cracks and booms overhead. The approach was too quick, well-meaning as it may have been. Dove understands the reaction. He reads Caprice as well as the noble reads his sign.

The thrashing of rain fills the aching silence and neither of them dares interrupt it. Seconds pass by without distraction until Dove again extends his hand forward. He moves slower than he has to under the young emperor’s weary gaze as though addressing a wounded animal.

When Caprice notices it’s not without backlash. His eyes turn hard, looking fussed. His nails dig into the wood beneath them until angry lines form on the underside of the desk and pain shoots up his fingers.

Dove’s palm settles over his hand, squeezing.

He flinches but can’t bring himself to shake the man away. The silence between them stretches on unbearably after, broken only by the rain. He releases the desk and turns his palm face up, intertwining their fingers wearily. “Thank you.” He whispers.

When the thunder comes this time, he doesn’t flinch.

Prompt: Help

Vestiel’s heartbeat thuds like thunder roaring inside his ears. He stares with too much intent at the earth beneath his worn shoes, doing his best to concentrate on the hole boring over the space near his toes.

Much to his dismay, Fannar-Haise appears to notice.

She carries herself past the snow huts and politely cuts through the crowd, stepping lightly around the fire and between celebrants, their songs alight with a different kind of flame.

Vestiel can’t hear them past his own thoughts. Get out, get out, get out. He forces some semblance of greeting out as she approaches but can’t manage to look her in the eyes. It’s hard most days, but especially now.

“Enjoying the party?” She asks, making no mention of the answer being pretty obvious. The smile on her lips is pitying, judgemental at worst, he just knows it. He can’t bear to lift his chin and see. If Andi were here he could explain himself easily but, as it was, he was going into this situation alone. Completely, utterly alone.

“Yeah,” he lies, “just tired from all the traveling.”

It’s a witless excuse and she knows it. Instead of pointing it out, though, she only offers a shake of her head. There’s a lot to say about communication and Fannar-Haise considers herself an expert on the subject. She watches him fumble about; the trouble in getting his tongue to do its job sticking out to her as sorely as the restless, rhythmic tap of his hand against his hip and the blatant avoidance of eye contact. It answered her question more than his words could, and that was okay.

“You’re overwhelmed,” she nods to herself this time, having seemingly come to a conclusion all on her own, “Let me help. You don’t have to answer with words, a nod will do just fine. Can you walk?”

Vestiel squints at the sole of his shoes, looking confused, then apprehensive, “I’m-”

Silence. No matter how hard he pries, not a single word comes loose from his tongue. The thoughts are there and plentiful, excuses and apologies, maybe something more, fastened tightly like honey coating his throat and hidden away between his ribcage, leaving him breathless and useless.

His chin tilts upward, lips parting, but he can’t manage it. Instead, he allows himself the nod she had been looking for.

“Good. That’s good. We’re going to go somewhere quiet and after that you can tell me what you want to do. Can I touch your hand?”

She patiently waits for the resulting, albeit cautious nod, and takes his hand within her own.

She guides him past the bustling scene like this. As they reach a distance where the noise has muffled he finds it in himself to speak again. It’s slow, at first, allowing his mind time to find the right words. “How did you know?”

Calmly she turns her gaze from the sky, not looking directly at him but rather just past where he stands. There isn’t a soul there when Vestiel follows her gaze over his shoulder, but he’d only half expected one. Andi had learned with time not to stare too long; something told him Haise was just as quick of a learner.

“Call it a hunch,” she hums, “I’ve experienced my fair share of things, Vestiel. This isn’t new or strange, it’s just you.” She pauses to face him, eyes still averted. He returns the favor and looks at her nose like it’s his only salvation, seconded only by the sight of his snow hut in the distance and the soft murmur becoming of the crowd ever fading behind them.

“Besides,” she continues, “these celebrations aren’t a requirement by any standard. They’re here to bring happiness. If something causes you to be unhappy you have no obligation to stay. If you need to step away, I will understand. We will always understand.”

Vestiel doesn’t know what to say when they reach the entrance. Despite her words, he can’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him for having both left the celebration early-- a celebration of his arrival, no less--and now, leaving their leader at the door.

She picks up on this, too.

“I’m going to head back to the others for a while longer. You can join us if you’re feeling up to it, or you can stay here and get some rest. Don’t overthink it, okay?”

Her warmth is everything to him, more grounding than a hole in his shoe could ever be. He wants her to know, wants to find the right words to explain how much her actions mean to him, but there isn’t an easy way to go about it without making a greater fool of himself. He answers with a weak smile and a simple, “Okay”, the best he can offer in way of thanks.

She matches his smile and bids him goodnight.

Prompt: Hope

The scent of leather tanning above flame clings to his nostrils. It fills him with a sense of despair unlike any other, weighing different from the miserable few weeks he’d spent mourning Andi, even. Putrid, a nauseating sort of agony like snakes writhing and tearing at his stomach. Burning. Burning. Burning.

The forest was ablaze. That was all he could possibly know, here in the dark. Shadows drove past him in a stampede of bodies carving through the night, survived only by a name and footprints worn into the poaching grounds.

He scares awake. Stars wink faintly above him, hidden behind the morning sun.

“Bad dream?”

Tupelo’s voice startles him a second time from where he lay, their trek up the hill all but forgotten until that point.

Vestiel slowly drags himself into a sitting position with a grunt of effort. Sweat collects at his jaw, cold against his cheeks. He licks his lips and tastes salt.

“A fire, just to the north of here-- tonight maybe--the forest, the people-”

Tupelo tends to the campfire, looking drained. It was suddenly apparent neither of them had slept well. “The forest?” they ask with a shake of their head, “Not to the north, yet.”

“Yet?”

Vestiel draws his shirt away and uses the

bottom corner to dry his face. Goosebumps still clinging to his arms, the memory remaining like a fresh wound.

“You don’t have to believe me,” he says, “I can’t explain it to you and if I do, you’ll just think I’ve gone strange. I’m only asking that you take me north of here.”

He reaches for the map tucked inside his rucksack, spilling a few more items in the process, “It shouldn’t be too far off from where we’re going already. I’ll show you.”

Tupelo is quick to rest their hand against his wrist with a sympathetic, albeit calm look on their face. “We’ll go.” They assure him, pointing to the north. “If it’s important.”

_________________________________

It quickly becomes evident that Tupelo is just as ill-equipped for this kind of travel as Vestiel. For as nimble as they are the hill obviously called for a different kind of strength. The original path would have taken them up and around, but this new direction was a straight shot to the north, uphill for the better half of it.

Tupelo watches Vestiel out of the corner of their eye, checking up on him every now and then as though waiting for Vestiel to change his mind, or hoping he’ll get around to it if they climb for long enough.

However, Vestiel remains steadfast in the endeavor, eyes locked on the horizon. He’s certain of what he saw, having learned to trust the dreams long ago, and he had no plans to stop now. The smell of burning flesh still lingered undeniably.

“We’re almost there.” Tupelo breaks the silence.

“Finally,” he gasps, “I don’t think my legs can go on for much longer.”

He can feel it already. The weight of the earth shifting beneath his feet, a familiar pressure that seeps into his bones, pungent smoldering inside his nostrils once more. “It’s right over here,” he drags himself the last few feet to the summit, “It’s-”

Dead. Every tree, every blade of grass, the entire opposite face of the hill lie dusty and black, an empty expanse of burnt trunks where the forest should have been.

Tupelo comes up beside him.

“What happened here?” Vestiel gasps in disbelief, “I was sure-- my dreams have never lied, not once before. Were we too late?”

“Your soul tells stories, not prophecies.” Tupelo answers, “Father told me you can hear them.”

“Them?”

“The spirits,” they gesture to the barren woods, “they speak because they know you will listen. Come.”

Vestiel follows their lead. Dry grass crunches underfoot as they descend the hill. Patches of green pop up here and there, but aren't constant and don’t compare to the full weight of the forest that should have been in its stead. It’s a sight he feels the need to grieve over as though his own soul were tied to the scorched land. The thought scares him.

Tupelo steps ahead and crouches to their knees, hands smoothing over a ring of stones that would have gone unseen had they not brought attention to it. Wordlessly, they pull the canteen from its strap and let the remainder of its water drip out.

Vestiel inches closer now. He kneels beside the other, “What is it?”

Tupelo sits back on their heels, palms opening to show a young sapling, green and healthy, standing tall, small as it may be. It rests in a forgotten graveyard.

“A tree?” Vestiel reaches for it and thumbs carefully along the juvenile bark. “What is one tree to an empty field?”

Tupelo cradles the sapling fondly. “Hope.”

_________________________________

I'm tagging @faenova @squid-scribe @zmlorenz @ashen-crest @henrike-does-writing-sometimes and @sharraus (can I tag the tagger? I'm doing it anyway)

Your words are Drenched, Gather, Cradle, and Howl

#finch writes #tHO #vestiel #andi #capri #tupelo #haise #dove #tag game

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

the closest i’ve been to a bar was at ballet class

summary: just some smut building up to 🎟🩰(that’s a ticket and ballet slippers in case you aren’t reading this on mobile)

pairings: reader x natasha romanoff, reader x steve rogers, reader x carol danvers, reader x ...someone 👀

word count: a little under 12,000

warnings: everything. as usual, all kinds of sex in here. i can’t remember all of it. some is pretty rough so avoid if that is not your thing.

a/n: so...i may have added a fourth and bc i’m a jerk, i’m not yet tagging who... but i’ve been thirsting for this character so hard lately and idk why! i’m done tho, i swear! no more. none.

a/n2: so, obviously there is no show here and they have yet to find out about each other but i started writing that but this all happened first and it would have been like a billion words. so part 3 will be coming!

a/n3: part 1

Your ballet instructor was Natasha’s number one enemy. It had started almost instantly. As with her experiences in ballet, she felt that your instructor was someone who simply needed to be watched. She said ballet instructors were hardly ever completely honest, they always had ulterior motives.

You highly doubted your instructor—a 38-year-old woman with an amazing husband and three adorable children—was up to no good. But you couldn’t take another lecture!

Natasha liked to remind you that she had been at this for a long time. Sure, she was paranoid, sometimes. But other times, she was very much correct and that was enough for her. She just wished you would put your guard up sometimes.

So she claimed, anyway. And she was convincing, but at the end of the day, she was glad you weren’t jaded and cynical. It meant she got to take care of you. It meant that she got to protect you in all the ways she knew how—threats, murder maybe.

She was waiting for you at your apartment around noon after practice was over. Her eyes sought out any signs of stress. You knew you looked tired—a big show was coming up, that same show you knew was going to conclude this whole sneaking around thing you had going on. You also knew there was a huge bruise on your shin and arm that she would be furious about when she undressed you.

"Hungry?" she inquired. No 'hello', no 'I missed you', but Natasha liked to save that for when you were falling asleep. She really thought you wouldn't remember how sappy she'd gotten in the morning. You let her pretend because the alternative was no sappiness.

"Starving. Are we going somewhere?"

"Let’s stay in, I’ll make something."

You opened your apartment for her and she waltzed right in. She directed you to change as she headed for the kitchen.

You didn’t have the energy to try to hide the bruises. It was better to get it out of the way. Besides, were you going to say no when she wanted to fuck you?

You chose a tiny bra top and a pair of tiny shorts. Maybe your ass would distract her.

She was at the counter, waiting to see what you came out in. A box of pasta in front of her, a few jars and a saucepan off to her side. It wasn’t anything too crazy but you were okay with that, and at least she wouldn’t get to tease you in that restaurant she loved taking you to.

Concept: picture that scene from a movie where the rich, white man has his favorite restaurant that he takes his billions of too-young, way-out-of-his-league dates to and the staff is used to not mentioning any of the terrible things they see to his wife. Now, take that vision and place it on Natasha. Subtract all the dates and the wife and that Natasha was out of your league, and that had you sitting at her usual table of her favorite overpriced, noisy, terribly lit restaurant at least once a week. At least you were starting to make friends with all of the hostesses and most of the servers. But they weren't naive, they knew when Natasha was, in a sense, in a mood, and they knew when to be succinct but still helpful. That was what made part of The Incident possible—

"What is that bruise?" she demanded, startling you out of your thoughts.

You contemplated the innocent act for a moment, but you'd rather be dismissive. It was just quicker. "Nat, I'm fine—"

"Did you get that in class?"

"No."

"Where, then?"

You sighed. "When I was leaving class. I fell walking down the stairs."

"Because you’re so tired!"

"I am not that tired," you protested.

"Y/N—"

You sauntered over to her, sliding in between her and the counter. "I guess I am a little tired but only because I’ve had some trouble falling asleep lately."

She already knew where you were going, but she would never refuse one of your challenges. You weren’t in charge, she was, and you wouldn’t know that if she was too soft with you. She sighed, "why is that?"

"Because you haven’t fucked me in so long."

She rolled her eyes.

"When you tire me out, I sleep like a baby. Without you...I have to tire myself out and that can take forever."

She sighed, knowing she was not going to get you on a different path. "Forever, huh?"

You nodded. "I mean...I can think about you when I do it. Your mouth, your fingers... But it’s not the same."

"And how often, exactly, do you think about me?"

It was the closest she was ever going to get to asking where she stood with you. She knew there were others but she wanted to hear that she was special compared to the rest. She was, so special you couldn’t put it into words. But that didn't mean Steve and Carol weren't special in their way as well. You figured they were going to have a hard time wrapping their mind around that when they found out about this. A competition? Sure, they could understand that.

"Very often," you promised. "I missed you."

You craved them exactly as you had gotten used to having them in your life. The mornings had you longing to be with Natasha, staying in bed late while you thought about how she wasn’t going to be walking you to class or waiting for you after. Nights were reserved for Steve when you realized how empty your bed felt and wanted to have one of your under-the-covers conversations with him—a trend started in the winters when he would unintentionally wake you up because he was trying to slip out of bed, it was your way of keeping him there for just a little longer. Then there were weekends, random mid-days, and every Thursday night that Carol had you set aside just for her so she could take you to Maria's for dinner.

Natasha's hands settled on your hips. "I missed you, too. But that doesn’t mean I don't want to hit your damn teacher."

"Why waste time?"

"I’m nearly retired," she countered. "I have the time."

"No, you really don’t." You slowly removed your shirt and then shimmied out of your shorts before kicking them away. "All of your time needs to be spent on me, not worrying about my teacher."

Natasha always looked at you like she’d never seen anything quite so beautiful regardless of how little time elapsed from the last, but there was something different this time. For the first time since she’d met you, your skin was an unpainted canvas. Steve and Carol had been gone as well and that meant there were no bruises anywhere because there was no one else.

Natasha liked marking you up because Steve did—not that she knew that, but it was a possessive outlet for them both. Steve’s marks were always bigger, bigger fingers, bigger love bites, she’d known instantly that he was a man—random, inconsistent. Hers were smaller, healed quicker, but no doubt sent the message that you were fucking a woman. Something she wanted to be known to whoever else was sharing your bed.

She lifted you onto the counter, leaving your hips hanging over the edge as she dropped to her knees. Immediately, her mouth was set to your inner thigh where she nipped at your skin and kissed after. She never once took her eyes off you as she switched legs..

You wouldn’t beg, even after the eighth time she made that switch. You knew she had her plans and not even you could change them. That didn’t mean you weren’t dripping and squirming, cursing her for being so thorough, however.

She shoved your legs apart wide as she stood, dipping down to run her tongue through you slowly, just once.

You shuddered when she caught your clit. "Natasha—"

"Hush." She eyed your pussy, then the rest of you. "You are delicious, baby. I can’t believe I had to go so long without tasting you." She chose your hip bones to mark up next but finally, slid two fingers inside you. She didn’t move them, she just wanted to fill you up a little.

You clenched around them several intentional times and she didn’t bat an eye. She was trying to drive you crazy; she hadn’t said it but the second you tried to take, if you rolled your hips, if you grabbed her arm and attempted to rush her, she would make you wait longer.

She trailed up to your breasts, small kisses scattered without pattern before she started to bite and suck until your skin was numbly tingling. You knew her game was over when she pressed her lips to yours.

You wasted no time, opening your mouth for her tongue and moaning out of the sheerest need. There was just something about Natasha’s lips that could always get you weak. They were beautiful to look at but they felt even better gliding across your skin, kissing, sucking.

She was the one who pulled away, turning down to look at her fingers still inside you. "You are soaking my hand."

Now you grabbed her forearm, pulling her fingers in deeper. "Fuck me, please."

She acted as if she was thinking about it, arched her eyebrow and curled her fingers once, twice, and then yanked them away from you.

Your eyes widened up at her. What the hell?

"Go sit at the table while I finish making the pasta."

Your mouth dropped a little. "Um...?"

"Hurry up," she ordered.

She was serious, dead serious. You slid off the counter, leaning down to reach for your clothes.

"I didn’t tell you to get dressed," she pointed out. With her hands on your arms, she stood you back up and turned you around. You went to move away but she grabbed your ass and leaned down to kiss your cheek, then gently urged you forward. "Sit down, stop pouting. Be a good girl or else I won’t be fucking you, understood?"

No, hell no, not understood. At all! But you didn’t say any of that as you moved for the table. No, no, no way in hell.

Steve teased, even Carol had her tendencies to make you wait, but Natasha was different. After that first time in the studio, she had never again made you wait for something that you wanted. She gave and gave until you shamelessly flaunted how spoiled you were to anyone who would listen—mostly the ballerinas from class. It was that Natasha didn’t need to be as in control as them, it was that it didn’t need to be some power struggle.

Maybe she was trying something different, but that meant that you could do that, too. Instead of sitting in a chair like a boring mouse, you turned to her and sat on the table instead.

She was pouring the box of pasta in the pot, but she turned up to arch an eyebrow at you.

You lifted one leg, then the other, setting the arches of your feet on the edge of the table. You were obscenely spread for her and she acted as if that wasn’t unnatural.

You brought your hand down to your pussy, two fingers slowly tracing circles around your clit. You watched her watching you the entire time, there was never a break in her resolve. But you were too far now to just quit, besides that was more than likely was her feigned indifference was trying for.

She didn’t stop making the pasta either, but that was how you knew you were winning. She was trying to speed dinner along because she was going to remind you that she was in charge.

It was so cute that they believed that. You worried that she may not let you finish that night, so even if you wanted to give her that little bit of obedience you could manage, you weren't convinced it was in your best interest.

Your hand began to move frantically as you cried out her name because you were just mean like that. Your eyes closed and your head fell back as you took in two of your fingers. Your hips rose to grind against the heel of your palm, around that time you were almost certain you’d heard something clatter in the kitchen.

Your finish was little more than a show, an end you’d drawn yourself to many times in their absence but one that you played up. It felt as good as it could have but you needed them, nothing else could suffice. That didn't mean you weren't acting like it was the best orgasm you'd ever had.

You came down quickly and did so without a word or even another glance at her. You climbed off the table, sat in a chair, and looked at her once more.

She looked down at the counter in front of her and shook her head. Yep, you were in major trouble, but you deemed it well worth it.

After an uneventful meal, she took you to the bedroom where she edged you ruthlessly. She was trying to get you to apologize for misbehaving, but you refused. Well, until she told you that she wasn't going to give you the presents she brought you back from Paris. (Later, you opened a new pair of thigh-high boots and a diamond choker with a dangling charm of cursive letters spelling out angel.)

And finally, when you gave in and apologized, she herself was worked up beyond comprehension and set your cunt over her face so she could eat you out until you were crying and delirious. Thankfully, she didn’t stop even though you begged her to, not until she was satisfied.

That was the first night Natasha stayed over. She kept her arms wrapped around your bare torso to keep you pinned to her as tightly as possible. You felt her running her hands through your hair until you fell asleep, enjoying the sound of her breathing in the quiet room.

In the morning, you woke first. You were able to watch her sleep for a while, surprised by how peaceful she looked. And you were caught off by how good she looked in your bed, her red hair fanned out over your pink pillowcases, the sunlight filtering through the blinds and layering her in gold light. 

Her arms were slack around you, her right falling away as you sat up. You situated yourself on her side, crossing your top leg over her hip. You took her hand in yours, guiding two of her fingers to your already wet pussy.

You teased your clit for several minutes, careful not to wake her just yet. When you were ready, you slid down on two of her long fingers. Still, she was not woken by you.

You rolled your hips desperately, moaning every time your clit swept against her palm. You felt her fingers curl on their own and moaned louder, an attempt to get her conscious.

When her eyes shot open, they focused on you instantly. You continued to fuck yourself on her fingers, setting your head on the pillow next to hers and staring in her eyes.

"Fuck," she whispered. Then she was up and urging you onto your back. She spread your legs wide and slotted herself between them. She started slow, hands groping your breasts as she dragged her pussy against yours. 

She was deliciously slick, you could feel her cunt dripping onto yours. Wet sounds filled the room, along with the small, desperate noises that spilled from your open mouth.

When she knew she was close, she used your thigh as leverage, moving quicker. It was a breath-taking scene when Natasha got lost in pleasure. She shut her eyes, tilted her head back and her red curls lined her back, her breasts bounced hard because that was how she was fucking you. She didn’t stop until you were both screaming each other's name and coming.

She collapsed on top of you, mouth lazily seeking out yours. "That’s the best way I’ve ever been woken up."

You smiled.

"Turn over, let me see your gorgeous ass."

You waited until she stepped off the bed to roll over, eagerly sticking your ass out for her. She had never asked you to do this so you were excited to see where she would take it.

You heard her get back on the bed and then felt her hands gripping your ass hard.

"You have such a beautiful ass."

You smirked, glancing back at her.

She set her body flat against your back and you titled your head just so you could kiss her. She began grinding her cunt against your ass, nipping at your lips as she moaned. One of her hands slithered down between your pussy and the mattress, her fingers circling your sensitive flesh skillfully.

Her soaking pussy brushed over your ass desperately, you could feel her soaking you all the way down the back of your thigh. She got herself off on your skin, never once easing up on your clit even though you’d finished and were terribly oversensitive to her touch. Instead, once again, she stopped only when she wanted to.

And if you thought that would be the end, you didn’t know her very well. She sat up and brought you with her. She took your hips in her hands and situated you over one of her thighs, her front pressed to your back once again. "Come on my thigh, baby, don’t stop until I tell you to."

You leaned over, using your elbows to keep your balance. You rode her thigh hard, making sure to give her quite the show of your ass. When you were reaching your end, you grabbed one of her hands and set it over your ass. She took the cue immediately, grabbing you, digging her fingers in.

When you finished, she shoved you flat onto the mattress. You were only half aware of what she was doing behind you, still floating from your orgasm. You snapped right out of that when you felt her lips against your ass. She kissed you several times before you felt her tongue against your hole.

You startled, hands fisting in the sheets. You were definitely surprised, you guys had never even approached this topic. But just as soon as you had felt her, she was gone. She turned you back over, kissed up your body, stopping only to worship your breasts. When she reached your mouth, she gave you an out-of-place chaste kiss and sat up. "Seriously, we need to get out of bed or I'm never going to stop fucking you."

When Carol opened her apartment door for you, things quickly changed. She gripped your arm and walked you to the couch where she forcefully sat you down. One thing was clear: she was in no mood to hear you speak.

"Stay." She headed to the kitchen where you heard cupboards being opened and slammed shut, the fridge a few times. Mostly, she was just walking around.

Perhaps you should have been scared, but you were just wet. So fucking wet.

She came back with a beer, glanced at you, then began pacing. "You’re..." she trailed off and shook her head before taking a long drink from the bottle in her hand. "I mean, I can’t even..."

It was definitely a mistake to laugh.

Her eyes widened and she turned to you, a clear warning, but one that you would not heed. "Just try to make me understand," she finally settled on. "What possessed you?"

"Well, you were gone for quite a while."

"So, you missed me?"

"Of course."

"So, you decide to be a brat?"

Was that supposed to make you regret acting out? It was a somewhat humiliating thing for her to call you but you didn’t dislike it. "Well, you weren’t paying enough attention to me."

Again, that sharp look that you were sure was supposed to make you backtrack. "I only pay attention to good girls, girls who behave."

You hummed, standing. "I suppose I should go home, then."

"Sit down," she growled.

Instead, you tossed your purse on the couch and slowly removed your jacket. Nat had left you covered in marks but she was secure enough in her place with you that she didn’t need to do so in a way that would inconvenience you. She understood you were a ballerina so she left your neck, shoulders, and chest mostly untouched. Your breasts, stomach, and thighs were another story, but you were still in a tiny ass skirt that allowed Carol to finger you in the car before you’d arrived at another little gathering Maria was having—who had more parties, her or Tony Stark? She was giving him a run for his money.

Which was where you’d started acting out. Carol had picked you up around noon and you were as sweet as could be. But around 3, you were suddenly hit with the realization that you wanted to be fucking her more than anything else. It started with a text about how you had taken off your underwear. She was having none of it, she told you this was not happening. You let her know that the scrap of lace was in her purse.

You sent a picture 30 minutes later. She warned you to stop. You sent a video showing her just how wet you were for her, then told her all the things you wanted her to do to you. All the things you had missed while she was away.

In total, you sent her 27 texts, 2 videos, and 7 pictures. You’d received 4 responses, but the final one was completely out of place. Show me your ass. You obliged but then nothing. She said nothing, she requested nothing further.

Did you feel as though you'd gone too far? Not exactly. Carol was definitely into the most public shit, making possible for the second part of The Incident. You still blushed thinking about that day.

She rolled her eyes at your display of disobedience, bringing the bottle to her lips once more. "Strip."

You didn’t need to be told twice. First, it was the shirt, and you paid no mind at all to what Natasha had left you with, but you noticed Carol's lingering gaze. Next, you pushed your skirt down and stepped out of her pumps you’d borrowed. You loved wearing heels when you were out with Carol, she was taller than you without and sometimes it brought you to her level or made you just a tad taller.

She made her way closer to you, setting her bottle on the coffee table off to her side. Abruptly, she grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you closer to her. "If you wanted me to get rough with, princess, all you had to do was ask."

You didn’t have time to respond before she was kissing you, greedy and demanding. But just as you reached up to touch her face, she yanked back and turned you around with her hands on your shoulders. She grabbed your hair once more and forced you down toward the table.

You were on your knees, bent over the edge, your breasts flat against the freezing glass. Your cheek was pressed so hard against the solid surface you almost couldn’t open your mouth to speak. "Carol—"

"Silence."

It was a while before you heard her move, she got down behind you and kept one hand on your head as the next began to feel through your folds.

She slipped one finger inside you, pulled back, then added another. She curled up against that spot that always made you buck your hips wildly, even though now you were digging into the sharp wooden border of the table she’d bent you over.

"You know how to drive, right, princess?"

You paused for a moment, confused.

"Answer me."

"Um, yes?"

"You know that when you reach a traffic light, green means go and red means stop, don’t you?"

"Yeah..."

"So, right now, bent over this table, your soaking cunt filled with my fingers, you are...?"

She was speaking slowly as if you were a child that could barely comprehend this conversation. Never mind that you were definitely getting lost and her fingers were turning your brain to mush. It was another humiliation tactic and you felt yourself blushing. She’d never been quite so...formal. "Green?"

"Are you asking or telling? Green means that you are still my desperate little whore that needs to be fucked hard."

"I’m green," you assured.

"And if at any point you feel like you need me to slow down or you are beginning to get worried or uncomfortable, if you need any verbal communication, you’re yellow. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you understand if you need me to stop, if I’m hurting you or you don’t like what’s going on, you can tell me you are red and you know I won’t get mad at you?"

"Yes."

"One more time, what are you?"

"Green."

She pulled her fingers from inside you. "Arms on the table."

You hurriedly obeyed, gripping the edges hard. Carol never really spoke to you like this, it was all spoiling you in attention and affection. This was something else, something you hadn’t anticipated when you started this game.

She brought her hand down on the right side of your ass, your hips stuttered forward and your gasp and the echo of the smack filled the room. Your cheeks burned and your eyes filled with tears. It didn’t hurt, she was experimenting, but you knew it would eventually.

"And what are you now, princess?"

You swallowed, willing your voice to stay even. "Green."

She finally let go of your hair and you tilted your head a little just to get the pressure off your cheekbone. She repeated the slap on the opposite side with just a bit more pressure.

You shuddered and blurted out the same color. Your skin was stinging but you felt yourself growing wetter, your slick running down your thighs now.

She had you in this cycle until she found enough force that it was barely manageable. Tears were running down your cheeks, landing on the table and she had to hold you up on your knees because you no longer could.

She hummed. "These marks are going to be pretty in the morning."

You realized then where this came from. Had you come to her with the same attitude but without all of those marks Nat left you covered in, you probably never would have pushed Carol to this point. They had both officially found their ways to be just the slightest bit possessive.

"You sorry?"

You snorted. "No...are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You should have fucked me at the party if you really wanted me to stop sending you pictures and videos."

She rolled her eyes. "Stay here. I'm not joking."

You smirked as she stormed off to her bedroom. You knew what she would be coming back with. She returned naked, save for her strap. A smooth red dildo hung between her legs, one of the larger ones she owned.

You went to stand up but she clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Crawl over here."

You lifted your eyebrows—crawl? Hadn't she just called you ‘princess’? But you could be a ‘whore’ since she called you that, too. On hands and knees, you made your way to her.

She reached down to grab your hair, pulling you up to stand on your knees. She said nothing else as she used her other hand to press the tip of the dildo against your lips until you opened your mouth. A struggle that ended with the sounds of you choking on the piece of silicone down your throat.

The rest of the night was spent on the couch. She made you ride her strap until you physically couldn't continue, which ended up being a bit after two in the morning. She didn't tease or edge, she allowed you to come as many times as you wanted to, in fact, she ordered it—unstated, but the threat that would come from not playing her game was clear.

She didn't help, however, she stayed still underneath you and didn't say a word. She just watched you, watched as you pathetically attempted to get her to break. You would kiss her, take her fingers and suck on them, place her hands over your breasts. A few times, you even got up, turning your back to her before sinking back down on the dildo, knowing that she would love the sight of your battered ass.

Steve understood your love of ballet.

Sure, Natasha knew what you were talking about and related to you somewhat, but she also had her opinions about ballet and sometimes she was a little closed off about your dancing. And hell, Carol would support you doing anything. Tap, softball, book club, Broadway, murder, she just wanted you to be happy.

With Steve, well, he sort of understood interests that left you a little battered and bruised. His new obsession (TM) was patching you up through those unanticipated injuries and wrapping your feet before you practiced at home to prevent injuries. It was a careful 20-minute process where he was utterly focused on making sure you were completely protected. And either he paid tremendous attention to you—his skills at quickly prepping your feet was enviable—or he had a thing for ballerinas. You were okay not knowing.

When he called you and told you he was coming over, you noticed something in his voice. It was different, not that usual sweet and doting tone, but you'd heard it before. Steve was always confident and assertive, but this was...something else. Something more. When he told you that you needed to get dressed in nothing more than a leotard, you wanted to be a brat and flat out refuse, maybe just tease, but you didn’t. You had enough sense to know that it wouldn’t get you the results you wanted.

You also had reason to be nervous. Carol had left you some nice marks. They didn’t really hurt anymore, but they were there. There was also no false illusion about what they were. Steve would know and you just weren’t sure how he would feel about them. Most of your ass was covered with what you were wearing but there were still the especially dark areas that could be seen through your one-piece, and there were a few bruises that extended the cut of your outfit. Not to mention, there was no way to hide what Natasha left on your upper thighs.

But you just decided to act like it wasn’t an issue. He was the one who said he couldn’t be your boyfriend, right? He couldn’t get upset over others leaving marks behind. At least that was what you kept repeating to yourself as you walked toward your barre in the corner of your apartment living room.

You began going through your usual warm-up routine, only glancing at him when you felt you wouldn’t be caught. He was laid out on the couch, eyes following your legs as if he hadn’t seen you do this a dozen times already. He was already hard, made more noticeable by the one leg draped over the edge of the cushions. His hand was on his thigh, fingers twitching just barely. The control he was trying to maintain was clear on his face, through his sharp blue eyes, his set jaw, and furrowed brow.

It was silent the entire time and your nerves were growing. Eventually, you would have to turn around and he would have the perfect view of your ass. He’d already noticed your thighs, you saw him eyeing you when he was prepping your feet for the pointe shoes. But he didn’t say anything and he wouldn’t, because he wasn’t allowed to. Right?

With a finishing soutenu turn, you were facing the opposite direction. You heard him sit up but then it was completely silent, minus your breathing and your shoes brushing along the floor.

When you were done, you stayed put. You’d gone as far as teaching him a lot of ballet vocabulary because he knew what he wanted to see and after your warm-ups, he would often direct you. It was always somewhat thrilling—apparently, you both shared this depraved ballerina kink. Maybe there had been role play—maybe he was the casting director and you were a desperate ballerina auditioning for a role, willing to do anything to get it, and maybe he pretended he had a million and one critiques for you, and maybe instead of having the talent, you got the role after you sucked him off.

“Face the barre. Run through your pliés.”

You turned to your side, pretending to be focused on keeping your hips squared and your pelvis locked. You could do pliés no problem, but the alternative was meeting his stare in the mirror and you were too nervous to do that. You completed the demi-pliés slowly and the grand pliés much the same. Normally, he would speak during this step, knowing that he wasn’t going to distract you, but nothing.

You waited for more instructions but they never came. You felt his arms wrap around your waist and you startled—you hadn’t heard him get so close.

He just held you for a moment, pinned your back to his chest as he kissed the side of your face. His hands began to squeeze your breasts and you melted into him eagerly. But soon, gentle touching became rough grabbing and all you could do was watch him in the mirror. He looked at you like he was starving and he touched you like it had been ages.

One of his hand dropped down and grabbed your ass. You held on tighter to the barre, shuddering. "What do you call him?"

Because you just didn’t know what was good for you, you laughed. "Are you jealous?"

He gripped you harder, bringing down his other hand to join. "I don’t need to be. What do you call him?"

'I’m not fucking another man," you informed, amusement still clear in your tone. Steve Rogers jealous, you never thought you’d see the day.

"Then what do you call her?"

She had you call her captain, but you couldn’t exactly tell him that. "What do you want me to call you?" you purred. "Sir?"

"No."

You hummed. “Master? You don’t strike me as the type, but you’re weird enough that I wouldn’t be surprised."

"No."

"Then I’m not sure what you want, Steve." You did know, you’d always had the suspicion since he liked to take care of you and loved calling you baby girl.

"I won’t ask you again," he finally said. He didn’t much care what you were doing with other people, but he did have a special liking to your ass. Maybe he was just mad that someone was spanking you before he was.

When it came to Steve, you knew how to get under his skin. You always knew just what to say to shock him and he could pretend all he wanted that he didn’t love when you would say the filthiest things to him, but you knew better. And after he just handed you this, how were you supposed to resist? "I don’t think I’ll have enough time to answer."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Oh, are we on a clock?"

You shrugged, leaning back to set your head on his shoulder. "Well, yeah, if you want to fuck me before mom gets home."

He scoffed, averting his gaze forward.

You knew you’d caught something though, his hands tightened on your hips and his jaw was doing that thing.

"You are sick."

You snorted. "And you’re hard, so."

He turned you abruptly, pinning you between his body and the barre. "Fine, what’s the story?"

You hummed. "You met my mom in a bar, you liked her, you started this all with the purest intentions. But then you stayed over one night, and there I was. You’ve tried fighting it—"

"But you don’t make it easy," he sighed.

You smirked. "I’m sorry, daddy. Really."

Any last reluctance he had was destroyed when you called him daddy. "Well, baby girl, daddy really isn’t okay that you’ve been letting so many other people fuck you."

You shrugged. "Maybe I was practicing."

He scoffed, fully aware of how you were intending to turn this. "Practicing. For what?"

"You. I just wanted to make sure I was good when you fucked me."

He hummed, turning you away once again. "And are you?"

"Good?"

"Mhm."

"The best," you promised.

"Baby, I don’t know how I feel about sharing you. What if I wanted to be your first?"

"I—"

He brought his hand up to your neck and you fell silent. "Daddy is really disappointed."

Rarely did Steve commandeer your scenes. Mostly, he pretended that he was just humoring you, then he fucked you well enough that you weren’t in the position to tease him afterward. It was a great system. But you weren’t complaining that he was suddenly changing things.

"Are you sorry for letting me down?"

You nodded quickly. It was surprising how naturally he could commit to this character.

"How are you going to make it up to me?"

"I’ll do anything," you promised.

He took his other hand, palm sliding over your ass. "Have I ever told you how much I love your ass?"

"No."

"I do... you ever had your ass fucked?"

That was a huge no. The men you had been with up to that point, prior to Steve, did not meet your standards that well. There was lacking trust, skill, most of them couldn’t define 'foreplay' if their lives depended on it. And after, well, Carol was the only one who liked straps so much and she’d never brought it up.

"No."

"No?"

You were about to repeat the answer when his hand came down on your ass. It (illogically) was the last thing you were expecting and you pathetically squeaked before you could stop yourself.

"You know what I want you to call me. Correct?"

"Yes, daddy. No, I’ve never been fucked there."

"You want daddy to fuck you there?"

"Will daddy forgive me?"

"Maybe."

Pouting, right now? Steve Rogers knew no bounds. "Yes, daddy, I want you to fuck me there."

"Spread your legs and hold the barre."

You hurriedly did as he asked, watching his face in the mirror. His eyes were focused on your ass, the way you moved, the way you were teasing him by leaning over just a little.

First, he moved your suit aside and buried two fingers inside you. You were obscenely wet, something he chuckled at.

You would have blushed, had you not already been. He pumped his fingers in and out, ordering you to watch, even though you couldn’t see much with your leotard in the way. When he added another finger, you squirmed a little, trying to get more comfortable.

"Does that hurt?"

"A little, daddy." It always hurt, taking Steve was always an adjustment process. The first few times, uncomfortable, an orgasm without his fingers rubbing quick circles around your clit was impossible. You were getting used to him, it was still a stretch, you’d just grown to like that ounce of pain because you knew how much pleasure was going to follow.

"Well, imagine how they’re going to feel in your ass. Then imagine how my cock will feel. Worried?"

"No, daddy. I like it when you hurt me."

He thrust his fingers a tad indelicately and your hips jerked.

Ass—obviously you’d said that to get a rise out of him, but still, rude. You had completely soaked through your thick suit by the time he pulled his fingers out, and not a single finish to show for it. But you figured he knew what he was doing, he’d probably had experience with this before so you were fine letting him run the show.

He pulled the material over your ass so he could watch you take his fingers.

"Take it off, daddy," you pleaded, voice all weak and breathy. You were pathetic.

"Can’t, baby. If your mom walks in, you can’t be naked."

You whined unintelligibly. Was he serious right now?

"Don’t misbehave," he warned. "I don’t want to have to punish you. Understand?"

"Yes, daddy." You set your forehead to the bar, angling your head so you could still see his face.

"Are you ready?"

You nodded slightly. "Yes, daddy." You startled a bit when you felt his finger, taking a breath when he told you to. The first finger didn’t hurt but you felt impossibly full—he was right, how were you going to take him? There was a sting when he got to his knuckle but he told you to relax so you tried.

His opposite hand reached through the suit where he pressed his fingers flat to your clit and began to massage them over you, back and forth, with a toe-curling pace and pressure. He pumped his finger in and out of your ass until you were crying out about your approaching orgasm. His finger felt different now, better, and you weren’t sure any finish had ever built up so intensely.

Before you could find out, he stopped touching your clit, dipping his first two fingers down to tease your entrance. It was then that he decided to add another finger to the one working on opening your ass for him. He was quick about it, slid one finger out, shoved two in.

You threw your head back, moaning loudly.

"Starting to feel good, baby?"

"Yes, daddy." Maybe just the looming promise of the right kind of pain, but not necessarily good. Not yet.

He continued his pattern of edging you until he had four fingers inside your ass. Your legs were shaking and his other hand was completely soaked. He never stopped talking, telling you about all the times he had thought about fucking you like this, how he touched himself during these fantasies, how he was going to make you feel better than you’d ever felt.

Steve wasn’t the most forthcoming man. He didn’t lie, never, but sometimes he kept things so completely to himself and you never had a clue. When did this obsession with your ass start, and how? And if Carol had never spanked you, would he even be doing this now? What other fantasies was he keeping to himself?

"Do you want to go to your bedroom, doll?"

"Not yet."

"Do you want your mother to catch us?" he joked.

You snorted. "Maybe I do."

He leaned over you, kissing the side of your face. "You know, I’m just saying, if you really did have a mom and I was your stepfather and was trying to fuck you on a clock, we would have definitely been caught by now."

You couldn’t possibly refrain from smiling. "You’re such a dork, Steve."

He smiled a little. "You think you’re ready?"

"Yes."

He arched an eyebrow at you. "Don’t drop the act now, baby girl."

You scoffed. "Yes, daddy. I’m ready." You watched him in the mirror as he moved his pants out of his way, something he eventually had to remove his fingers to do. You immediately missed that full feeling.

He adjusted your leotard out of his way once more, opposite hand leading his cock to you. He pressed in just barely, allowing you time to adjust or to protest if this was a failed experiment. You guys had had a few of those. Beyond handcuffs, he did not like tying you up. You guys actually weren’t overly into public sexual situations, save for the final act of The Incident. And phone sex was something that only occurred in times of true desperation. This would not be making the same list.

He folded his hands over your hip bones, pulling you back further on his cock. Your mouth dropped and your eyes slammed shut. It didn’t feel natural, it was like your body was trying to push back at him but well, Steve was nothing if not stubborn. He just kept pushing and pushing until your ass was flush against him.

It felt like an eternity when he started to pull out and then another eternity when he thrust back in, but you enjoyed every second. You felt high by the time his hips were moving easily, steadily. It was this maddening feeling like you were on the edge of something really good but he wouldn’t touch you anywhere else and it just wasn’t enough to finish. You suspected he knew that.

His hands moved up your hips and your waist until he could grab your shoulders. He stood you up, his hips stilling, your back flat to his chest. Just when you thought you he couldn’t get any deeper inside you. He pressed his hands up until he closed around your breasts. He pinched your nipples through the material, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

"Let’s go to the bedroom."

He would have a much better angle to watch, of course. Two months prior, you were days away from a huge audition so you were either at the studio or at home practicing. One night when you arrived home at nearly 10, it just felt like something wasn't right. Like someone had been in your apartment, nothing looked off. You just felt it.

You didn't lock the door behind you, just in case. You kept hold of your phone. You hadn’t spoken to Natasha that day and you worried she wouldn’t answer, she didn’t generally stay awake so late. And well, it wasn’t like Steve was a stranger to your AM calls or texts. But Carol lived closer and would have been there in a second if you’d needed her.

You made yourself move, tomorrow was another busy day. You flipped on your bedroom light, nearly sprinting straight back out when you saw flowers on your bed. But fear was quickly replaced with all sorts of confusion.

It looked like an expensive bouquet and there was a card right next to it. And see, these were not roses or daisies, these were dahlias—dark red, full, extra flowers. And who was more extra than... As the card read—ding, ding, ding. Steve Rogers. 

When you’re not so busy, we’ll try it out. 

Fear soon returned. Oh no, you thought to yourself. What could he have possibly done? It took you only three more seconds to find a full ass mirror over your bed. At the moment, you were stunned, but once more, pulled yourself out of it with your insistence of sleep. You did not have time for this.

However, when you were in bed, your phone charging next to you, you just couldn’t fall asleep. Of course. You had to call Steve. He’d broken into your home, or allowed others to break into your home, without your permission. All to put a fucking mirror over the god damn bed? He was insane, you realized.

"Hey, doll."

He sounded so smug. "You’re sick."

"Hmm, does that mean you don’t like it?"

"That means what I said: you’re sick."

"Take your clothes off."

You snorted. "Who said I’m wearing any?"

As mentioned, this wasn’t your usual routine with him. Steve loved seeing you, feeling you—phone sex just didn’t cut it. But who knew when you would have time for him next?

"There are many toys in your bedside table, pick one now."

You eagerly obliged, spreading your legs and fucking yourself with a vibrator he’d used on you several times. He told you to watch, to not take your eyes off the mirror.

The mirror added to discovering that Steve Rogers liked role-play had been some of the most pleasant surprises of your life. It was fun for both of you, never a question about when or where. When either of you wanted it, the other was always up for it. You’d thought it was just a one-time thing after the ballet incident, but then he found handcuffs in your room, which believe it or not, you hadn’t actually been using for sex. They were sex handcuffs, but they were just part of your costume to the Valentine's Day party Carol had taken you to, thrown by the lovely Maria.

Regardless, he asked you about them and you dismissed them. He then “arrested” you for “being a brat”. That got you bent over the kitchen counter as he fucked you from behind. He had you beg him to let you go but didn’t stop until his cum was dripping out of you onto the floor.

Then he’d noticed you were struggling in one of your classes and offered a prize for doing well on an upcoming exam. Of 50 questions, you’d only missed 4. He laid you out on your bed and told you he was going to eat you out. After the first time, you attempted to pull him up to you, gasping about how you needed him inside you, please Steve. He grabbed your hands and held them down, ordering you to call him professor Rogers. 

Then there was the loose sugar daddy scene. He’d bought you a diamond choker on one of his trips away and it was stunning. You felt spoiled and wanted him to feel the same. You got on your knees and stayed there until you were sure your jaw was going to suffer permanent damage if you kept your mouth open that wide for much longer. It was three days later that he sent you a screenshot of your Instagram post about the diamond choker and told you to get dressed exactly how you were in the photo. So, in a rose pink wig, a tiny pink satin dress, a dangerously high pair of red heels, and the diamond choker. He didn’t use your name when finally got to your apartment, he called you baby and made you ride him, fully dressed, until you couldn’t sit up on your own.

Then there was the time Steve Rogers actually sent you the address to a sex shop and told you to meet him there. You’d had no idea until you pulled up to the building but you knew immediately that you were going to enjoy this. He asked you to help him find toys that his wife would enjoy—you told yourself you could play along, but you definitely needed to smack him upside the head later. When he got you in the car, after a little back and forth, you being somewhat mouthy, he placed one of the vibrators inside you and wouldn’t turn it off. His fingers paid attention to your clit the entire drive home.

Your payback for that was you dressed as one of his former chorus girls. A designer at the university that you’d met because she always made the costumes for the show was all too happy to help. You sent him a picture of the outfit then flipped the skirt up to show him you weren’t wearing underwear. The absolute last thing you expected was for him to show up in one of his suits. He was wild almost animalistic, he made you scream so loud that three different neighbors came to check if you were okay. Which had been a great source of pride to him.

Then you bought a stripper pole. It took 7 entire classes before you had any idea what you were doing. Though he appreciated it, it was a requirement of patience that he did not want to execute. Natasha, though,

Natasha loved watching you dance. Carol had the same problem as Steve but if you let Natasha, she would watch you for hours.

When you woke up, it was because Steve was getting out of bed. You glanced at the clock, 4 in the morning. He was getting up for his run, then he'd head out to the tower for another day at the office.

He fucked you again before he left. He had you on top of him, chest to chest, his arms wrapped tight around your back, one hand on the back of your head to hold you to the bend of his neck. He liked to do this with the mirror. He liked holding you flat against him and then watching your ass as he fucked you fervidly. He had become wild and insatiable since the mirror's arrival.

Natasha liked to lay you down, tie your legs to the bedpost, sometimes your arms, and would spend hours teasing you with her mouth. Sometimes, when she knew you weren’t too tired, she would tell you to finger yourself and she would stay next to you and watch in the mirror for as long as you would allow it.

Carol liked making you ride her and you couldn’t deny that was a beautiful scene to watch play out from above. She also liked to turn you away from her, settle directly behind you, drape your leg back over her hip, and fuck you with one of her straps.

They had their shared interests, that was undeniable. You still blushed every time you thought about The Incident. It occurred four months ago. They’d been on a short trip; not even a mission, they’d promised, they’d told you it was more politics than saving the world. The first one you saw when they got back was Carol.

She had texted you while you were out with friends and asked where you were. You informed her that you would be shopping alone after lunch. She joined you because she had a present that she just couldn’t wait. It was a vibrator that she could control from her phone. She never used it while you were walking, concerned that you may actually fall and hurt yourself but if you stopped to look at something or sat down for even a second, it was on.

Natasha had taken you to the restaurant. She told you to go to the bathroom and take off your bra and panties and she handed you her purse to place them in. She made you sit down next to her, slipped the same vibrator inside you, then made you sit on her lap for the entire night. She let you watch her phone, let you know when she was going to speed up or slow down, and all she did the entire night was sip on her wine and keep a tight hold on you so you couldn't move away from her.

Two days later, Steve made you wear it to class. Not ballet class, actual classes where you would be sitting down. It was so random when you would feel it and it was terrifying as he wasn't there. You never knew when or where, or if you were standing up and reading! You wanted to hit him when you got back to your apartment and he was waiting for you. You didn't, but you were really upset. Mostly because he hadn't let you come the entire day.

You wanted to know why? You’d asked, but their answers were dismissive and it wasn’t like you could elaborate on what you actually meant. You weren’t just asking why, you were asking why all three? It was just one of those answers you weren’t going to get while you were still keeping secrets from them.

When Natasha showed up after Steve left, it was two hours before class. You were still in bed checking social media when she slipped under the covers and made you come with her mouth and fingers. You’d taken a shower since Steve left, fortunately.

She kissed up your body and settled on top of you. You undressed her, kissing her bare skin as soon as you exposed it, her arms, her chest, her stomach, her legs, her ass, her cunt. She wanted you on top, grinding against her as she watched in the mirror.

She walked you to class and you fingered her in the dimly lit hallway before she left. She picked you up afterward and made you eat since you simply did not have the time to before class. She walked you home, set up her phone on the table next to the couch, sat down, sat you on top of her, and made you ride her fingers. Sometimes, Natasha wanted videos.

In between your second and third lecture classes, the biggest gap in your day, Carol texted. She picked you up in her car and drove out to some hiking trails that she felt were empty enough. In the back of her car, she had you pressed down to the seats, ass up as she fucked you with her strap. She held the side of your face down against the leather, not so much that it would stifle your screams.

When you finished, she made you clean the seat with your tongue. You could distinctly tell the difference between her taste and yours. She watched you as she removed the strap, taking the dildo and fucking herself with it.

She laid back and let you on top, directing you to sink down on the dildo as it was still buried in her pussy. You didn’t stop taking it until your pussy was against hers, thankfully it wasn’t one of the longer ones in her collection. Leaning over, you used the side of the car to keep your balance. She rose onto her elbows, nipping and sucking at your nipples as you ground your wet center against hers.

This was a regular day, one you had grown to love, one you were completely obsessed with. You were scared. You felt that the likelihood of them all being okay with this was low. But you were not so scared that you would ever lie to them. Withhold information? Sure. Lie? Out of the question.

You'd finally confided in the ballerinas. They'd always known about Natasha because she was at practice all of the time, but you only told half-truths about Steve and Carol. You didn't actually want them to know that you were sleeping with three Avengers. Maybe it was because everyone was drunk, but they promised you that Natasha adored you and she wouldn't leave you.

Okay, but what about Steve and Carol? You were stressed, really stressed. During the preparation period for shows, when training was intense, the ballerinas often went out on Saturdays and got wasted and talked. This was why you were in a loud night club with dancing and alcohol, and no one who was going to stop any of you from getting in trouble.

You were impaired but you were not a bad friend. At the bar, you counted all of your friends. They would likely be leaving with someone as they had all found someone to dance with, you would make the rounds in a minute. It was a rule, if they wanted to leave with a guy, that guy had to give you his number. You would verify it right then and there by sending him a text, then they could be on their way.

It was one in the morning when the girls started leaving. You had a drink at your side and five new names (proven by ID) and numbers saved in your notes.

"That's sweet."

You turned to your left, eyebrows shooting up. Gorgeous blue eyes, long brown hair, and beautiful fair skin. Wanda Maximoff was either sitting right next to you at a bar or you were completely imagining her. Given your drunken state and your current obsession with her, it was possible.

"Well, they don't exactly agree...I read stories about guys and bars and how to avoid getting chopped up into little pieces."

She smiled a little. "Who makes sure you get home?"

"I live close."

She hummed. "Were you heading out?"

Yes, you should say yes. You should leave because this could not happen. You didn't know how to explain that you were sleeping with three of them! And Wanda was wearing this red dress that was really tight and so low cut, so, how would you explain four?!

"Maybe...after I finish my drink."

She eyed your glass for a moment. "I'm Wanda."

"I know. I'm Y/N."

"I think you're the first person who's recognized me all night."

"You're stunning. I don't know how anyone wouldn't recognize you."

She smiled slightly, turning back down to her glass.

There was something so wrong with you. Instead of leaving, you just wanted to sit there and drunkenly flirt, clearly.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

No, say no! "Sure."

It was two drinks later, technically three drinks later, since you finished your drink and then she bought you two more. Things were starting to get...closer. You guys were closer. You'd started out at a normal distance, at least you assumed, but the next thing you realized, you were centimeters away from her.

She had her hand on your arm and she'd stopped ordering drinks. She was ready to leave or almost ready to leave. You hadn't neglected your duties as the best friend. You had 12 names and numbers in your notes but now you were realizing that you were all alone and if you wanted to do something, you could.

You'd talked about yourself a little, the usual. You were a student, you were a ballerina. However, you left the part out about your apparent gambling addiction! She didn't share much and you didn't think that was odd, the others didn't for a long while. They had to be a lot more guarded than you. You completely understood.

Wanda glanced at her phone when the conversation died down, or when you stopped babbling like the intoxicated fool you were, before looking back at you. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Yeah." You should still be saying no. You should try being honest. You should say: I'm sleeping with three of your team members and I should go home. But god, she really was fucking stunning.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"I do. I have a boyfriend that I love very much...but sometimes, there are things that I want to try. Things that he doesn't want to try."

"Are you...referring to me?" That was a stupid question, you were almost sure. But was she? Was that what you were supposed to be picking up?

She scoffed. "In a sense, yes. I do think you are beautiful and you're nice, and really cute. I want to have sex with you, but it can't be a relationship. My boyfriend is offering me an open arrangement... I'm still with him, very committed, but sometimes...I would like to call you and meet you. Does that sound like something you would be okay with?"

Should you be offended by how many Avengers didn't want to be in a relationship with you at this point? You may end up dwelling on that later, but now, you were thinking about having sex with her. She looked soft and sweet, very unlike Carol, Steve, and Natasha. You weren't saying she was better or worse, it wasn't like you were comparing them to rank them.

You were just acutely aware of the fact that they were so dominant and you were not. Wanda didn't seem to need that so much, she seemed like she would be fine just having sex. Meaningful sex, but not too meaningful. Soft sex, but not boring. In fact, it sounded like she wanted to try something different, and maybe you wanted to also.

So, you said yes. Mostly because it reminded you that Natasha, Steve, and Carol all said they were not able to be in an actual relationship with you. You were getting ahead of yourself, maybe they wouldn't care at all. Maybe it would be a complete non-issue, and you shouldn't miss out on having sex with Wanda if you don't have any proof that they'll react negatively.

She kissed you the first time while you were both still sitting at the bar. After you'd given her your consent, she set her hand to your cheek and pressed her lips to yours. It was all soft lips and tongue, no teeth, no power play. She tasted like alcohol and lip gloss, at least her mouth did. You wanted to know what her pussy tasted like, which you didn't fail to whisper to her when she pulled away.

She immediately took your hand and led you out of the club. It wasn't terribly cold as you waited for the Uber she sent for. She was just a bit taller than you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders as she leaned down again to kiss you. Your hands started at her hips but soon began to roam, her ass, her waist, her back, her shoulders to pull her down closer.

By the time the driver showed, you were both completely flushed and very ready to find a bed. She was taking you to a hotel. You figured that was best, no need to add any more people to the list of individuals who randomly show up at your apartment without calling or texting.

She kept her hand on your thigh the entire drive there but didn't dare move it underneath your dress. Another point of difference between her and her teammates. Any of the others and you would have already finished at least twice.

Getting up to the room was a blur. Thankfully, she did all the talking. You weren't sure how to function under this kind of calm, steady build. It was always fast and immediately, but Wanda was taking her time and making sure everything was how she wanted it.

When you finally got into the room, she didn't bother turning on the light. She curled one arm around you, the other pulling your hair off to the side as she began to kiss your neck. She held you against her as she walked forward. There was a bed that you supposed was big enough, a small bathroom, a sad excuse for a kitchen, a huge window with dirty curtains shining light on the mattress.

None of that really mattered, anyway. She led you closer to the window, stopping only when she wanted to remove your dress. It hit the floor, she peeled the curtain away from the window, and her hands were all over you. "Is this okay? I like the moonlight tonight."

She waited for your confirmation before she ran her hands up and down your sides, a teasing touch before she grabbed your breasts. She was still kissing your neck, gentle and open-mouthed.

You turned your head upward, catching her mouth. She opened her lips for you instantly and you took full advantage of that with a slow but sloppy kiss. Her fingers trailed down from the middle of your chest, straight down your stomach, and all the way to your pussy.

She hummed when she felt you were wet. The brushes against your clit were faint but somehow it was enough, it didn't take long at all for you to unhurriedly fall apart. Your legs were shaking and your mind was even more blurry than before.

You turned to her to slip her out of her dress. You kissed across her collarbone, then over her chest, glancing up as you closed your lips around one of her nipples. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head fell back, and she opened her beautiful mouth to moan.

Your hands on her hips, you directed her to the bed. She sat down first, grabbing your arms to pull you down with her. Your naked skin was flush against hers and all you did for the longest time was kiss. Hands buried in each other's hair, quiet moans and gasps filling the room, all the while just building up to this intense scene.

When you sat up, she remained on her back. She pushed your hair over your shoulders so she could see your chest and your face. She was right about the moonlight, it washed over her so well.

You kissed her chin, off to the side of her jaw, then down her shoulder and arm until you reached her hand. You took it in yours, the same with the other as you lowered onto your knees on the floor, intertwining your fingers. There was no prelude, you simply took her with your mouth.

She cried out your name, arching her back and squeezing your hands. She tasted sweet, smelled musky and a little like vanilla. You kissed down the length of her soaking cunt, sliding your tongue into her entrance.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped. "Do that again."

You obliged, releasing one of her hands so you could rub her clit with your fingers. She took her newly freed hand and grabbed your hair. She pulled you down harder, rolling her hips up slowly, trying to get your tongue in deeper.

Not even a minute later, she was making you aware of her approaching orgasm, "I'm close, suck my clit--please, fuck! Suck my clit."

You ran your tongue through her as you brought your hand down, you closed your lips around her and began to suck hard. You pressed two fingers inside her and pumped them in and out, moaning when you felt her clenching around them.

She was shaky and smiling as you lazily licked her through her finish. She pulled you up as soon as her brain was working enough to tell her arms to pull you up. "And how do I taste?"

"Amazing."

She smirked.

You had to figure her boyfriend wasn't much for going down on her since she was looking at you like you were the reason the sun would rise tomorrow morning.

You laid on top of her but she quickly rolled over, legs slotting so you could grind against one another's thigh. Her slick center against your skin was almost enough to make you finish. Again, her mouth was on yours and nothing was hurried. You canted your hips, catching your clit on her soft leg, and she did the same.

Soon, your hips started to gain speed, you were close and could tell she was, too. The sounds of wet pussy slapping against thigh nearly drowned out the desperate screams and whines you both made.

You completely soaked her thigh with your orgasm. As she continued pursuing hers, she reached down, hand gliding between you and her wet skin. She brought her fingers up to her mouth, humming and sucking on them. "I can't wait to have you sit on my face." Then she closed her eyes, her hips stuttered, and your leg felt much hotter.

She didn't waste any time at all, she rolled back over and hauled you on top of her. Your hips jerked when you pressed against her, still sensitive from the last finish. She didn't seem to mind, she just placed both hands on your hips and moved you relentlessly against her.

"Hands behind your back, lean onto the mattress," she instructed.

You quickly did so, relieved to have some type of balance.

She loved watching your breasts bounce this way, loved watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. And she especially loved when you sat up again to grab her hands, an attempt to pull away from the overstimulation. She didn't allow it, she kept her grip tight and pulled you in faster as she rolled her hips up.

#natasha romanoff x reader #steve rogers x reader #carol danvers x reader #will tag the fourth a little later bc i believe in surprises #my writing

[rosy-wooyoung]

Let’s get emotional…

I know no one will read this but i’m still putting it out there!

today is my account anniversary!! 🥳🥳

I created this blog on the 14.12.2019, and a year later, nothing really changed. It’s just me, still sitting at my desk, my whole back hurting with cold hands and my pathetically low self-esteem. It was one boring evening, I remember, I had just eaten dinner and I rushed to my computer to come back on Tumblr to read more ATEEZ content because I was fascinated by them, their talent and stage presence. (I still am, don’t worry) And then, I thought damn, I wanna write for them as well. You know what?

Fuck it. Imma do it.

I put the task of finding a username aside and start feeling inspiration flooding in my mind. I spend the entire evening writing as the words come, not caring about the coherence, the grammar nor the consistency of my writing, I just type and type until my fingers are cramping and my brain lagging. It’s just an amazing feeling when you don’t have to rack your brains to find ideas or words, I just had to think of an ATEEZ member, and the imagination would immediately submerge my mind. 

I truly aspire to find back the motivation I had a year ago.

The next morning, I even skip breakfast because I wanted to create, brainstorm, rewrite and correct the works I had produced the night before. I completely ditch my uni homework - don’t do that kids - until the end of the afternoon, where I post a note, introducing myself to the atiny Tumblr community. I was very anxious and shy before posting my first imagine, but I was immediately welcomed with likes, 20 on the first day to be exact. It was HUGE for me. 

I’m someone extremely self-conscious and very hard on myself, so it was kind of a struggle to post content out on the Internet for strangers to read. I’ve always feared judgement, I’ve bathed in it since the day I was born and I can’t seem to get rid of it. 20+ fics are still rotting in my drafts, I’m just too insecure to release them, so I ignore them and always search for new content to write about. I’m also scared to disappoint, but that’s another story. Aside from that, I’m really grateful because I’ve never received this much love and support in my life since I started this account. Whether is keyboard smashing in the reblog section or just someone saying “uwu that was so cute 🥺”, my day is automatically better. I have never received support or compliments from my parents, siblings or friends that I thought were the closest. Never. And it’s a weird yet great feeling!!

The first two months were amazing. By the beginning of February, I had hit the 200-followers milestone. It was something unbelievable for me. You may think that I’m exaggerating, but I was really thinking that I would only get like maximum 50 followers, and I would have still been happy about it. My account was doing great, but at this point, it was my health that started going downhill.

The pandemic and the stress from it aggravated everything, weakening my heart to the point of needing urgent surgeries (2, almost 3 in October, where there was a risk for me to d*e. Great when you’re a young woman who only spent her twenty first years of existence studying and worrying about her future :/). I get stressed out extremely easily and my doctor diagnosed me with severe anxiety and depression a few years ago. And guess what? They were acting up of course, so nothing was by my side. I was lost about my future and my career – I still am haha (pain) – and it was a hard time for me, for us. I’m still not at my best, but at least I’m trying, that’s what matters the most, right? This blog and the people I met there were my source of comfort and light, my safe place, it helps me a lot to just read or laugh at what I see in my dash to make me forget about everything that is bothering me. I met wonderful, supportive people on there and I can’t find the right words to truly express how I am feeling. And here I am right now, a year later, Tumblr being my solace because I can read really really good fics and wips, as well as exchanging with other atinys and people from other fandoms.

I still have those moments of doubt when I’m about to post something like, will this be appreciated? Isn’t it too cliche, too bad, too fluffy, grammatically correct, cool enough, aesthetic enough, cute enough, did someone already write something along those lines without me knowing it? Will I get accused of stealing or plagiarising? 

I can’t stop overthinking, but I’m trying to work on it, I really am, even if it’s hard. It’s really not something easy and I get defeated quite quickly, but at least I’m trying.

Even if I lost loved ones during this year (friends that ghosted me for other people, my grandpa passing away from cancer, watching and knowing acquaintances dying bc of covid…) I’ve got to know beautiful angels on here, my mutuals and my followers!! Even if we don’t talk 24/7, I really love and appreciate every single one of you. I know we’re just internet friends, but you really count for me. Please excuse me if you’re tired of seeing me being constantly apologising or being weird and absolutely not funny, I’m trying to become a better person. I absolutely adore when you mention me in tag games or send me love and support via asks or private messages, it makes my heart go really warm. If it were possible, I’d give each single one of you a hug and a big kiss on the cheek because you all deserve it and I love you.

Thank you @atbzkingdom, @closer-stars, @barsformars, @trashlord-007, @ateez-little-star, @tinkerbellwoo, @chrryhwa, @ateezlips, and everyone that I missed that follow me and support me, I luv you all sm :-]

Sorry if this post doesn’t make sense, I just wanted to try and express my gratitude as well as my love for everything you gave me. I hope 2021 will be better, kinder for all of us, and I wish everyone reading this to be(come) happy and healthy.

with all my love, rosy ♥

#rosy's talk #rosy-wooyoung anniversary #personal #<333

[theouterbankpogues]

after sarah doesn’t invite kiara to her birthday party (a jj x kiara fic)

author : theouterbankpogues aka vi

fandom : jj x kie, jiara | outer banks on netflix

tags : the angst, the fluff, the hurt, the comfort y’know!!

warnings : none

i love writing for this ship bc it has a chokehold on me and i just... i’m so helpless lmao. i read this hc set by @lemon-patches​ (which you should definitely go and read bc it’s amazing and all the feelings) and it talked about how jj and ki were each other’s first kiss and no one else knows. this is basically how i imagine it happened. enjoy!! as always the validation feeds me so yeah if you like it pls share it and stuff (i love reading tags on reblogs so lmao do with that what u will). i imagine they are 15/16, about 6-8 months before s1 idk if that adds up but lol thats what i went with. sorry for any errors u may find xx

a little preview so u know what you’re getting into hehe: “They stood like that for a while, long and quiet breaths synced, arms entangled in waist and shoulders, hearts rhythmically beating, just enjoying the warmth of the best friend they dearly missed.”

Tears streamed down Kiara’s face. She knew that calling the cops was petty, she knew it was the worst of her manifesting itself, but tonight Ki couldn’t bring herself to care. She found herself toppling some books off of her bookshelf. She had always known that she wasn’t good enough for Sarah. The Sarah Cameron. God, she felt so stupid.

Another wave of regret coursed through her. The pit of her stomach hollowed when she re-remembered that she’d actually listened to her parents and decided to give her kook year a genuine try. She had distanced herself from the cut and the pogues, her best friends, the people that she could always count on, the people who always cared. She gave it all up for the superficial bullshit she knew would eventually fall apart.

That entire evening, the anger and regret approached her in harsh and unforgiving turns. She couldn’t escape her own thoughts, she was so mad at herself. She had let herself become vulnerable, given herself up for someone to use and dispose. She felt so weak. All she really wanted to do was fit in, to have a normal year where she wasn’t disappointing her parents, where she wasn’t out at unreasonable hours getting her friends out of messes, watching their string of luck grow thinner and thinner with every prank and practical joke. She was tired of being the middle between the kooks and pogues, she loved the latter and she could’t escape the part of her that was the former. She just wanted to resign to one side, she just wanted things to get easier. Kiara had decided to leave everything for some peace of mind, and now she knew she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t even checked in with John B, his dad was missing and she hadn’t even checked in with him. God, she felt so stupid. Her sobs overtook her as she sat at her bed.

She was so exhausted from the crying she could scream, it had been a few long hours. And Ki, in a moment of clarity, convinced herself that she was too strong for that. Even though she felt horrible, she reminded herself that she was too careful to let this anger get the best of her. Instead, she resorted to taking a few deep breaths and cleaning up the various books and stationary strewn across her bedroom floor as a remnant of her anger. What had happened had happened, she was just going to have to figure out how to cope on her own.

Yeah, I just have to figure it out on my own. I’ll be fine.

That’s when she heard it.

Thud.

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

‘What the-’

She realised that the sound was coming from her window. Stepping toward the side of her room facing the balcony, she realised that pebbles were currently being thrown at her window by a silhouette below it. She couldn’t tell who it was because the backdoor lights had been switched off for the night. It was well past midnight and her parents were soundly sleeping in the next room, she swore she would never forgive the person currently trying to break her window if they woke up. She didn’t want anyone to see her as the mess she was right now. So as quickly and as safely as Kiara could, she opened the balcony window, “What the actual— JJ? JJ is that you?” Kiara couldn’t really understand what was going on, she had stopped talking to the pogues months ago.

“Yeah, hey Ki! Come down!”

“What?”

“You heard me bro, get dressed and come down!”

After a curt nod, she went back into her room, changed out of her PJ’s into some joggers and a hoodie and found herself sneaking out the back door out of genuine curiosity. When she was outside, she realised that neither Pope nor John B were with JJ. Along with that, she realised that he had two boxes of pizza and some beer cans set down on the grass next to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was scrolling through Instagram, realised you weren’t at the party, thought you might need a pick me up,” He seemed to register her tired face and puffy eyes under the dim starlight because he continued, “guess I was right!”

And that’s how, twenty minutes later, JJ and Ki found themselves in a clearing near her house. They sat down opposite each other, the pizza boxes separating them.

“Got your favourite, double cheese, double pepperoni and half the jalapeño.”

Except for the occasional direction here and there, Ki had been quite their entire walk. She couldn’t really even process what was happening. How was JJ here? Why was he talking to her after she’d treated them him like shit the past few months? None of it made sense to her, least of all why this was all from JJ. With all of it perplexing her, the only thing she managed to say was, “You remembered.”

‘Yeah of course I did Ki, just because you stopped talking to us doesn’t mean we stopped caring about you. Come on, dig in, it’s getting cold.”

She didn’t know how to respond to him so she just followed him in picking up a slice from the box. Warm pizza , cold beer and melted cheese heavily complemented the gentle breeze that surrounded them. They fell into a comfortable silence as they ate.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know Ki-”

“No, everything I did these past few months, the way I cut you guys off, the way I left y’all when you needed me I-”

“Ki we know-”

“God, I’ve been so stupid, I left you guys, like y’all were nothing, y’all needed me and I-”

“Ki, Ki-” Ki just continued, she felt horrible, “KIARA!” JJ saying her full name was so foreign to her, especially since he hadn’t even call her by her nickname these past few months, it undoubtably got her to stop talking.

“I know the pressure your parents put on you to start at that kook academy. Look we all know how hard it is for you to manage these two parts of your life. I know Ki, you don’t have to keep apologising, I know. We know! Why do you think we didn’t try to talk to you when you told us last summer? We want you to do what’s best for you Ki, you are better than us.” At that, Kiara got up and paced back and forth a few steps, remorse hitting her unbearably. 

“I’m not better than any of you. A part of me wanted to leave you all behind.”

JJ’s response was almost instantaneous, “I don’t blame you for it!”

“Well you should! I left you and Pope. I left John B for god’s sake. His dad is most probably dead and I wasn’t theRE.... I-I’m not there.”

At this point the tears had returned to her and she broke on her last word. Her voice wasn’t steady anymore. “I left all of you... I left you.”

JJ couldn’t stand hearing Ki like this, there’s nothing he hated more than having to let down his guard and get real. But JJ, when she said that, realised that this wasn’t about him. 

“Yeah Ki you did, but fuck that. We know you love us, we know that it was a difficult call! You have to forgive yourself. The reason I came tonight was to let you know that you have the people that care about you Ki.”

He stepped toward her and looked her right in the eye, Ki had never seen someone so determined with compassion before, “Whatever you do Ki - if you wanna go to the kook academy, if you wanna be friends with Sarah Cameron, if you wanna cry about how horribly she treated you, if you wanna listen to your parents and not talk to us, if you wanna leave the cut- we’re never not going to have your back. You’re a pogue. You’re our pogue! And if Sarah Cameron can’t see how kickass you are, she doesn’t deserve you and she never did. You got us Ki, we’re always right here. No matter what.”

And throughout all of that, he hadn’t stopped looking directly at her. She was enamoured to say the least, she couldn’t remember the last time JJ talked about something that real, let alone carry an entire conversation himself. Knowing her words wouldn’t suffice, she hugged him. She smelt the sea salt in his hair and pizza grease on his shirt and it was the epitome of comfort to her. JJ hugged her right back, it meant the world to him that he could make her feel at least a bit better. They stood like that for a while, long and quiet breaths synced, arms entangled in waist and shoulders, hearts rhythmically beating, just enjoying the warmth of the best friend they dearly missed. 

Before they could completely untangle from the other, Ki looked back at JJ, god, how did she get so lucky to have someone like him in her life? The air lightened around them as she looked at him, his eyes regained the mischievous glint they always had. It might’ve been because she was slightly tipsy, or because he was staring so intently at her, but for some reason, it felt right. There was no waiting or thinking, she rested her hands on either side of JJ’s face and kissed him. His lips were chapped and they tasted like beer but she loved it. A rush of adrenaline ran through her, it was new and exciting. 

When JJ processed her soft lips on his, and her hands caressing his face, he pulled back. Along with confusion and surprise, there was something in his eyes that Ki couldn’t recognise. But before she decided on asking him what it was about, he was already kissing her again. 

And this time there seemed to be nothing holding him back. His hands were wrapped around her waist, she was grabbing fistfuls of his hair in reciprocation. They knew that they would never be able to do it again so they just gave in. His hands travelled to the small of her back and her neck and she swore that she had never felt something more intoxicating. 

Ki had forgotten where they even were when they broke for air. They were both just breathing, eyes closed and foreheads touching, it was the closest thing to perfect the either of them had ever felt.

When they opened their eyes and looked back at one and other, they were surprised at how comfortable it felt. How... un-awkward, it oddly felt right. But they knew what the rules were, they knew that when Ki got home, they would never talk about it again, and they were fine with that too.

As they approached her doorstep, JJ couldn’t help himself but ask, “Was that your first-” “Yeah.” “Yeah, mine too.” “What?” Kie thought he was joking, JJ had flirted with every other tourist at the boneyard since they were like ten, “Mine, too.” He repeated. There was an honesty to his response that stopped Ki from asking any further. 

She hugged him again. “Thank you for this. I missed you.” He hugged her right back.

“I missed you too. When you come back to us, more beer will be waiting for you no questions asked, don’t ever doubt it.” With that, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and left. 

Ki had a small smile playing on her lips; she had never felt lighter in her life. 

#im actually proud of this #it came out so cute #jiara #jj x ki #ki x jj #kiara x jj #jj x kiara #obx #yes there are timeline inconsistencies #im sorry #outer banks #netflix obx #netflix outer banks #obx ff #obx hc #outer banks hc #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks ff #jiara hc #jiara ff #jiara fanfiction #user:theouterbankpogues