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#AND I GOT INTO ROCK/METAL BECAUSE OF THEM
redstrewn · 11 months
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I am so fr touchstarved has heightened my appreciation for art
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steakout-05 · 4 days
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shoutout to people with dads who are part of Gen X who introduced them to the best music of their generation when their dads were kids in the 70s-80s (it's me i'm people) (i love my dad <3)
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outeremissary · 4 months
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I always think I never had any particular interest in albums rather than individual songs (product of iTunes), but when I go back to relisten to stuff I remember from childhood I think that's maybe not true. I was always picking up music as individual 99 cent songs after hearing something on the radio, but my parents bought things as albums (like normal adults) and there were a lot of artists they enjoyed who I listened to as albums. Especially artists where they only had the one album for a given artist. Anyway today I'm remembering how obsessed I was with We Are the Night by The Chemical Brothers in middle school.
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throwthewine · 1 year
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Lately whenever I get curious about music from the 60s and 70s and dig into something, I can’t avoid the silly little thought, “This is so much cooler than what The Beatles were doing at this time.”
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steddielations · 5 months
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Steve acts on instinct.
There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.
There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.
They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.
“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.
“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”
Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”
It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”
“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”
Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.
“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.
He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.
It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.
“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”
Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.
“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”
Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.
Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.
“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.
“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.
The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.
He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.
“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”
He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”
“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.
“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”
Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.
“I think I’d definitely remember you.”
Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.
“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”
Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”
“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”
Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”
Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”
“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.
Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.
It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.
That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.
Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.
“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.
“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.
“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”
“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”
He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.
Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.
He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.
Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.
“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.
Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.
What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.
At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.
Oh.
He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—
Yeah, just. Oh.
Part 2
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pathologicalreid · 11 days
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separation anxiety | S.R.
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spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.
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Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.
Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.
You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.
Derek Morgan: Got a sec?
It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.
So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.
Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.
You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.
Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.
Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.
Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.
“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.
You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.
Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”
Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.
“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”
You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”
The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”
Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.
“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”
As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.
Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.
Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”
“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”
Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”
You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”
“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.
Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”
Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”
You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.
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Gorgug Thistlespring, a Half-Orc Barbarian raised by gnome tinkerers. His parents don’t fully get him but they love him and support him as he is. He dated a 4’11” girl and He’s 6’4”. He offered someone a metal flower on the first day of school, punched them, still offered them the flower, and sang in class. He died on the first day of school and went to hell. He bonded with Kristen because they both died that day. He became a drummer because Fig saw him sing about rage and wanted to share her coping mechanism. They became a rock band. He protects his friends. He loves his friends more than anything. He helped Ragh accept himself by kissing him at Prom and getting him to help fight a dragon. He left Elmville without telling Zelda goodbye and spent an entire season trying to fix it. Fig was missing, Riz was dragged into a mirror? He had to get to them, but he should have called her. He’s the greatest wizard of the age. “Spring Break, I believe in you.” He is the crab king and the shrimp prince. He figured out how to use his parent’s satellite to talk to Zelda. “It’s Gorgug, keep going.” He hugged Fabian, who punched him on the first day of school when they got back to each other in the Nightmare King’s forest. He multiclassed without anyone doing it before him and without help. He mixed his parents together and made a new multiclass. He built the solar lasso that caught the night yorb, he helped Riz gain some of his arcano-tech! His van is holding the Night Yorb. He uses his rage to protect people, he took 4 years of school at once to make sure he got to multiclass because he was not gonna be told no. He stayed on the Owlbears for Fabian even though he didn’t want it anymore. He took the Last Standard Exam and he crit so. many. times. He didn’t fall and neither did his friends! He flew a boat and killed dragons and he protected his spellcasters from Porter because that bitch was not gonna kill his friends. He hugged Kristen and told her she looked better. He looked better too. “Remember when we died?” He posited “It might happen again,” she responded. He didn’t let it. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not to them, never again. His new girlfriend is 2’.
I genuinely can’t get over him I love him and I have so many more analyses of so many more characters coming and hopefully they will be more coherent but it’s 4 am in a warehouse
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leiswxrld · 4 months
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𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬
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pairings: piercer!ellie williams x fem reader
synopsis: your obsessed with ellie williams and have developed a little thing for her but never talked to her well not until you visited the tattoo shop.
warnings: mdni 18+, smut, cunnilingus (r receiving), strap on usage (calls it her dick), praise + degradation (slut, angel, beautiful, pretty), ellie williams is the mf warning, nipple piercings, public sex kinda.
a/n: I’m actually so fucking obsessed with ellie not even a joke, this was also a request from a friend so thanks bae.
credits: @mmadeinheavenn @hitobaby ❥
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When it came to Ellie williams, your friends always heard about how much you were obsessed with her. to the piercings and tattoos they heard it all, you went to the same university and attended most of the same classes but never spoke a word to eachother other.
You were sat in the canteen, laughing and making jokes with your friends whilst your attention turned to Ellie who had headphones in, carrying a backpack as she buys her lunch, sitting herself away from everyone.
Trying to ignore her presence, you try listening into your friend's conversation on her current sneaky link dustin, a boy on the football team who was the goalie star of the team but a total dick, she would always complain how he would be fucking other girls whilst he was with her but she'd managed to go back to him saying, 'it was just for the sex'.
Your head begins to spin, turning your attention back to Ellie who's busy phone in hand and a sub in the other, her piercing green eyes look up towards you, licking the crumbs off her lips not being able to read her unreadable expression before she goes back to what she was doing.
In your deluded mind, you coped up the idea that she might have a slight thing for you trying to convince yourself she'd might actually hook up with you.
It's Monday morning, sat in your lecture a few seats from the front as the teacher is rambling on about a midterm test that's coming up very soon and that everyone should be studying but truth be told you had been too lazy to do anything, staying in your bed whilst watching YouTube. you noticed Ellie hadn't arrived, consciously looking at the door waiting for the freckled beauty to walk through the door.
you tapped your pen against the desk, head in your hand thinking about what you were going to have for dinner later until your completely brung out of your daydream by the sound of the double doors opening, speaking of the devil.
Ellie walks in, hair in a ponytail. dressed in a metal rock shirt with ripped black jeans and black timberlands with her headphones in. she seems unfazed at the amount of distasteful looks she gets as she walks up the stairs in your direction, briefly looking at you and continuing towards the top. the professor continues to teach ignoring her as she writes on the whiteboard whilst talking.
You pretend to drop your pen on the floor, looking behind you to see her sat on the seats towards the right. she's typing on her phone, completely distracted, looking up to see you before smirking to herself.
you freak out internally, feeling your heart flutter a bit as you gripped your pen tightly, humming quietly to yourself thoughts filled with her.
a few days later, your at the tattoo place waiting to get your nipples done. it was a rather last minute decision since you've wanted them for a while but scared because of the horror stories you've heard from other girls which completely put you off at first but then you decided maybe it wouldn't be the same for you.
You begged your friend to come with too scared to go by yourself as you signed the paperwork to get it done. "Girl I'm sure you'll be fine your literally shaking"
you scoff, giving her a dirty look, "If it was you...you wouldn't of gotten them in the fucking first place at least I'm actually getting them done"
she rolls her eyes applying her lip gloss, "I just got my eyebrow pierced I think that’s adventurous enough" you continue to bicker, before a girl approaches you not paying attention before she cleared her throat.
"Y/N right" you look up to see Ellie, the girl you've been crushing over for the past month stood right in front of you and she was about to pierce your fucking tits.
never in your right mind would you think she worked at a fucking tattoo shop but here she was in a tank top, showcasing the variety of tattoos across her arms and neck. you don't remember her being this fucking built but then again you never saw her in uni without wearing punk shirts with a white long sleeved top underneath. your voice gets caught in your throat, your friend looking at you with a smirk as you push her off you, "yeah thats me"
Ellie pauses, looking at her clipboard before looking back at you. "come with me" she says, turning around as you get up from your seat. You follow her, briefly turning around to see your friend who's making sexual jokes as you flip her off.
your nervous, your heart racing as she leads you to one of the many rooms, allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you. "Have a seat on the bed behind you whilst I get everything prepared" she mutters, pointing at the bed as you sat yourself on top of it. you don't think you've ever heard her talk her voice sweet but rugged at the same time as she goes to wash her hands at the sink.
"you've ever pierced uh- nipples before" you quickly speak out, cursing at yourself for your stutter. she takes a second to look at you, not missing the way her eyes stop at your tits before licking her lips. "uh- yeah this isn't my first rodeo so don't worry your in good hands"
she drys her hands, putting on her gloves and sterilising the equipment on the tray before wheeling it towards you next to the bed. "can you lay down for me and lift up your shirt and remove your bra if you don't want me to look I won't" she says, going to turn around before you stop her.
"No its fine you'll see them anyway since your piercing them" Ellie smiles at you, slowly watching as you carefully lift your top up revealing the cute red lacy bra. The tension felt all too intimate for you feeling so vulnerable under her intimidating eyes, you don't know if she's recognised you or pretending not to still remaining professional as you struggle to unbuckle the hook.
in embarrassment, you face ellie who's busy getting her tools lined up. "hey can you help me unbuckle my bra having trouble taking it off" you squeak out and she smiles signalling you to turn around, feeling her cold hands hit the warmth of your back causing you to shiver slightly as you felt the bra strap unbuckle. "thanks"
you slip your bra off, placing it on the bed next to you. Ellie hands you a towel to help you cover up, laying back onto the bed the anticipation killing you as your nerves began to pick up again. "I'm going touch your breasts now tell me if you get too uncomfortable" you nod in response and ellie gently moves the towel down revealing your tits, sitting perfectly the cold air breezing past causing them to harden.
you hear her mutter 'fuck' under her breath, but you don't know if it was your imagination or not. shes gentle, lightly pressing her hand against your left tit, the cannula in her right. "take a deep breath for me" you do, lightly taking in air before feeling the needle going through your nipple.
opening your eyes, you see she's already putting in the jewellery. "I was expecting that to be way more painful" you admit causing her to laugh, screwing in the ball. "a lot of my customers have said that it's just your nerves making you think it will be fucking painful than it actually is"
"don't blame them I was shitting bricks when I got here" you reply, admiring the many piercings she had in her ear. you don't think you ever noticed she had that many, "that was me when I first got them, I did them myself which looking back was fucking stupid but I was 17 and wanted to be different"
"that’s so real" you could relate you managed to pierce your septum and helix in one night which resulted in blood, infections and a long healing period but in the end they turned out good. "ok I'm going to pierce the other one take another deep breath for me angel"
the name went straight down to your core, feeling the wetness seep onto your matching red lace underwear as you avoid her eyes. you take another deep breath before feeling the needle go through which felt a little painful than the last as she puts in the jewellery screwing the ball in.
"anddd.... I'm done take a look" you receive the mirror, angling them towards your tits, satisfied with the cute piercings. "omg they look so pretty" you gleam, taking a second to look at a shy Ellie, "thank you so much"
"your welcome, they suit you just as pretty as you" your gleeful, expression falls turning to look up at ellie who seems panicked at your shocked expression. "s-shit I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I-"
"you think I'm pretty" you ask, needing the confirmation from her lips once again. "ever since I saw you in the library at uni I thought you were the most beautiful girl in there"
that was the signal you needed, "can I kiss you" ellie says, restraining herself from grabbing you and doing it herself. you nod and Ellie takes your lips on hers, heads moving against each other, roughly pulling at her neck as you both moan.
"so fucking beautiful" she mutters, against your lips grabbing your thighs and pulling you towards her. she makes her way down, leaving bruises all around your neck and kissing your pierced tits carefully making you wince before continuing all the way to your stomach.
"You moan so fucking pretty- shit I have to have you will you let me fuck this pussy baby" she asks- almost begging you to let you use her to get yourself off. "y-yes please fuck me ells" the yes a whimper, just wanting ellie to use her fingers on you.
Ellie wastes no time, taking off your joggers and throwing them across the floor. she moans at the wet spot that's appeared on the matching red lace underwear, helping you slip them off. "fuck" she mutters, your pussy glistening in your juices as Ellie slowly attaches her lips onto your clit, receiving a gasp from you.
She eats you like its her last fucking meal, licking and sucking like a mad woman, moaning at the way you taste and how angelic your moans were. "taste so fucking good"
"just like that els-fuck" she groans at your words, using her mouth to suction on your clit lapping up all your juices that seeped through the white protective cloth on the bed.
Your moaning, hands slipping into ellies hair and toes clenched too fucking blissed to say anything. "I-i want to fuck you" she says, stopping for a second bringing you out of your blissed out state, "what do you mean" your confused, wasn't she already doing it ?.
"you'll see turn around and arch your back against the bed" you obey, quickly rushing up and laying yourself against the bed, avoiding hitting your newly pierced tits.
You hear her unbuckle the belt to her jeans, pushing them down to her legs. briefly turning around, she pulls down her boxes revealing a black glittery strap on. "we only have 10 minutes before my next client so we have to make this quick, angel"
"look at you so ready for my dick, how much does she want it" she referring to your pussy, feeling her tap the tip against your opening. "sooo… bad please fuck me" you beg and you hear her chuckle at your desperate pleas, positioning herself before slowly pushing into you.
"ohhhh-fuck" you moan, exaggerating the oh as she puts her hands on your hips, "so fucking tight for me its been a long time since you've been fucked hasn't it" she asks, smacking your ass.
"s-so long" you admit, the longest time you had been without sex being 5 months. she pulls you back on her strap before thrusting into you at a slow pace, pulling back only to thrust back harder into you.
Your pushing back onto her, meeting her thrusts as your moans get louder. "shhhh angel your being too loud you don't want wanna get caught getting fucked by me right" her tone is almost mocking, feeling her hand push your head against the bed muffling your moans into the hard surface.
You nod, babbling curses and muffled moans as she increases her pace, ass smacking against her strap as your hand grips onto the discarded towel next to you. "fuck back onto me baby come on" she's spanking you, whilst letting you push back onto her as you turn back to face her who seems to be enjoying it as much as you were.
"you look so fucking beautiful from here angel, so desperate for me" she's pounding into you, trying your hardest to stay quiet, your piercing hits the table causing you to wince in pain, "fuck els- I'm gonna cum gonna make such a mess all over you" you moan out, eyes rolling back as you brain goes fuzzy
the loud smacks are echoed across the room, ellie going to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling on it harshly watching as your ass bounces back, almost creaming at the sight of it. "are you going to cum for me slut" you almost silent, ellie knocking the breath out of you as she fucks the shit out of you.
"nghhh- fuck I'm cumming" you squirt all over her strap, earning a satisfied moan from ellie, who thrusts into you a few more times before slowing down. you laid slump on the bed, feeling Ellie pull out of you as you felt her tongue return to your pussy, licking up the juices with a few grunts as you whimper in sensitivity.
"Didn't take you for a squirter" she finally says, helping you to your feet. "that was my first time doing it" you admit and her eyes widen, "really..well shit I guess you just weren't getting fucked right"
Ellie helps you get dressed, cleaning you up and replacing the now soaked sheet with a new one.
"I have to get ready for my next client but I guess I'll see you around, angel" she gives you one more kiss before letting you out, you felt the obvious limp in your step ignoring the dirty looks you got from everyone in the waiting area, returning quickly to your friend who had an obvious smirk on her face.
"so how was it" you grab your purse from her, taking out your card. "it didn't hurt to be-
"Not that how was it was she more of a pink or black strap type of girl" you slap her in the arm, an obvious glare on your face. "I don't know what you’re talking about"
"you do realise everyone heard you getting fucked like the obvious limp in your step and the hickeys all over your neck is a factor" your face drains in colour, no wonder why everyone was giving you dirty looks.
" I have no idea what your talking about let me pay so we can get out of here" you pay, embarrassment on your face as the receptionist gave you the ‘I know what you just did’ look.
Ellie walks out clipboard in hand, calling out a customers name eyes meeting yours before smirking, your face heats up before you drag your friend out of the shop, missing ellies obvious stares at your ass as you do.
“hi I’m ellie right this way”
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.
His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.
Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.
Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.
They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.
Eddie agrees.
It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.
The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.
Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.
Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.
But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.
He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.
So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.
It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.
Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.
Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.
Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.
Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.
"But what if I let you down?"
"You won't."
"But-"
"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."
And he was.
They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.
He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.
He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.
When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.
But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.
Of course Steve was there.
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lovifie · 4 months
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty
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The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.
At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.
“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.
“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.
“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.
Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”
“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.
“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.
Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.
He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.
“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”
Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.
You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)
You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.
The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.
Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.
“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.
He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.
“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.
“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.
“You keep saying that…”
“What do you mean?”
“That you will take care of me.”
“Yes. We will if you allow us.”
You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.
“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”
“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.
“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”
You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”
And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.
A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.
He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”
And you nod.
You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.
You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.
You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.
There is always tomorrow for regrets.
But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.
Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.
He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.
You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.
His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.
Fucking Kyle.
“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.
You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.
“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.
He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.
You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”
He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.
He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”
“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”
“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.
He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.
“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”
He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.
He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.
“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.
“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.
He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.
You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.
He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.
His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.
You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.
You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.
He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.
Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.
You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.
Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.
He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.
And the sight…
He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.
You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.
“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”
He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.
A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.
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Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.
You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.
So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.
Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.
Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.
So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.
And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.
Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.
The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.
You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.
You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.
You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.
Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.
You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.
You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!
So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!
“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.
You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.
By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.
At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.
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I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.
If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe
And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗
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ghouljams · 7 months
Text
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More Viking!Soap because I couldn't think of anything to beat knight!Ghost with and I need something to be cathartic no matter how small that catharsis is.
It takes another day to reach the coast. The waves beat against the cliffside, Mactavish’s hand is tight around yours as he helps you down the rocky path. Your feet ache, and you do your best not to stumble. His hands grip your hips, lifting you up off a rock he’d jumped down from. As easy as moving a child. You’re set back on uneven ground and he doesn’t look at you. Singularly focused, you think to yourself.
You understand why. Down at the beach you can see men, fire, a long ship with a curling bow. You grip Mactavish’s hand tighter, a small comfort you cease as soon as you start. He doesn’t comment on it, except to squeeze your hand quickly in return. 
“I should have asked earlier,” He mumbles, “you’re a healer, right?”
You feel your heart tumble into your stomach. That’s right, you’re only alive because you’re useful. Only brought along because he had no other options after your village was burned. 
“I’m still learning,” You tell him quietly. He lets out a breath, nods shortly.
“Know more than the rest of ‘em, I’d bet.” He assures you with a smile. “Say yes the next time someone asks, you’ll live longer.”
It’s not a threat, not from him at least, but it’s a guarantee. Healers live longer, and you have nothing else to your name to defend yourself with. He certainly isn’t going to defend you. You think it might be a chill from the sea air that makes you shiver. 
Mactavish walks in front of you down the beach. He keeps hold of your hand, as if you had somewhere to run to, and keeps you behind him as he approaches the other vikings. You peak around him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen men so big as them. The furs and paint on their faces denote their trade as easily as their braided hair and combed beards. Walking behind Mactavish you can see the tiny braids that wind through his hair as well, the small shiny beads and clips of metal hidden within the woody brown. 
One of the men near the edge of camp spots you both and makes his way towards your companion. Your hand is dropped to clap into the waiting palm of the other viking, who embraces Mactavish with a smile.
“What took you? Thought we’d have to send out a search,” The man laughs. He feels friendly but his eyes, a warm russet against his dark skin, sharpen when they touch you. “Just the one?” He asks, “Thought there’d be more willing to work.” Your shoulders stiffen, your arms close against your sides. Danish, you think, maybe. You know it well enough to keep your mouth shut. Mactavish glances at you.
“They were burning by the time I got there,” He says quietly, the danish feels so foreign on his tongue after hearing him speak gaelic. It breaks your heart anew to hear your tragedy described so callously. It helps seeing the other man’s eyes soften. “Tell Ghost not to scare ‘er, had enough of that for a lifetime,” Mactavish finishes, and you feel something squeeze in your stomach. The other viking nods.
“Happy to have a healer aboard again,” The viking tells you, his accent is pretty decent, the gaelic smooth on his tongue. “She’s pretty,” He mumbles to Mactavish, switching back to danish as quick as could be.
“Leave it,” Mactavish warns, his teeth bared with a flash of white. You tune him out, translating is making you tired, and look around camp. The fire is roaring, and men stare at you with open curiosity. Their interest makes your skin crawl. So many men, unfamiliar men, with the same propensity for violence as all vikings. You can’t think of a deeper abyss to throw yourself into, more bears to surround yourself with. “You alright?” Mactavish asks you, the gaelic snapping you from your thoughts.
“What do you care?” You snap at him, trying to keep your barbs sharp in the hopes others will see your bite. Maybe it will keep you safe. Mactavish’s eyes slide from yours, looking at the other men in camp.
“They won’t hurt you,” He tells you. What does he know? Men never think their peers are capable of the things women warn each other about. You say nothing, and after a moment Mactavish moves. Out of the corner of your eye you see him unfasten the pin holding together the fur around his neck. He’s quick to wrap it around your shoulders, hardly bothered you haven’t tilted your chin for him as he fastens it to your earasaid. “Gods if I ever have the time,” He mumbles to himself, his fingers toying with the pin. You get the feeling he’s not used to his gaelic being understood.
“You’ll what?” You challenge, eyes still fixed on the camp. His fingers hold your chin, dragging your attention back to him. It’s a gentle movement, but you tense at his touch. He’s quick to release you.
“Court you properly,” Mactavish clears his throat, fingers fixing the fur into place, “but this’ll do for now. You have my word-” his eyes are more serious when you meet them, “-no one will touch you.”
Sure, you tug yourself from his grip, you’ll believe that when you see it.
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sam24 · 5 months
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Man on a Mission
Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
*****
Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.
Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.
He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.
Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.
“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”
“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.
“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”
“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”
“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”
“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”
Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.
For now.
“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”
You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.
Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.
“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.
“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.
“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.
Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive
Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)
Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.
A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.
Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.
“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”
Bucky stared at him intently.
Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98
Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.
Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.
“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.
“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.
Suspect 3: Steve Rog-
Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.
Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.
For now, Bucky was stuck.
⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃
6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.
You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.
But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.
Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.
He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.
There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.
He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.
He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.
You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?
But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,
“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.
Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.
He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.
“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.
The little bastard was taken by complete shock.
Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.
“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”
Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.
He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.
“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.
“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”
Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.
“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”
Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.
Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.
“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.
Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.
“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”
Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.
“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”
⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃
A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.
Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.
He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.
Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.
“Thank you,” You smiled.
“For what, doll?”
You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”
Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.
“I love you, my little smartass.”
“I love you too, pops.”
Mission accomplished.
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Text
Allure
Part One:Sunshine
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❥MATZ x fem reader
Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.
Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)
Smoke (Part Three)
➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕
✃ "Because you're... alluring."
✫彡wordcount: 9.3k
♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au
ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH
chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.
⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE ˚➶ 。˚
You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.
Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.
You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.
New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.
You had to interact with them all face to face.
You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.
You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.
"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."
"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.
"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."
"I'll follow you up, I c-"
"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.
"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."
A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.
"See you, Hyolyn."
"Later, babes."
You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.
The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.
The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.
When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.
˚➶ 。˚
You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.
"Yunnie in town?"
"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."
You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.
The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.
She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.
"She said she'll be here first thing."
"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."
"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."
It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.
"I owe you."
"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.
    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.
     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?
     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.
    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.
       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.
     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.
    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."
     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.
    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.
     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.
    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.
     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.
    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.
    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.
    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.
     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."
   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.
      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."
    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.
     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.
     "Changb-"
     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."
   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.
    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"
    You shake your head.
   "You a lawyer?"
    Again.
   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"
    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."
     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.
     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"
     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."
Your head snaps back to Changbin.
"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"
The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.
If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.
The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.
You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.
The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.
The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.
Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."
    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.
A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.
You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.
The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.
As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.
˚➶ 。˚
The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."
The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.
The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-
"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.
"Settle down!"
"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"
"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.
"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.
"I can use my teeth, mark h-"
"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."
Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."
"What do you mean by that?"
Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.
"What do you mean by that?!"
The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.
˚➶ 。˚
You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.
You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.
You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.
You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.
You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.
She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.
That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"
You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.
You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.
"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.
You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.
"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.
The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.
The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."
A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"
"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"
All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"
"She ain't yours!"
Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."
The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"
"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.
You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.
"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"
"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.
"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."
"Solis."
"Very pretty. Is she fast?"
"Yes."
"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"
"Yes."
The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"
"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.
Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.
There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.
The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.
"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.
He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.
You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.
"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.
Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.
"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"
"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."
"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.
He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.
"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."
"When I mark her."
He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.
In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.
It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.
He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.
Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.
"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.
He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.
"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.
Binnie? Ugh.
Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.
You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.
You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.
"Bye, Binnie."
He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.
˚➶ 。˚
Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"
"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.
They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"
You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."
"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."
You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.
You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.
You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."
"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.
"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.
When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."
"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.
"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."
Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.
     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.
     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.
     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"
      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.
     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.
      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.
      "Yes. And no."
     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.
      "How did they find you?"
       "Woods."
       "Woods?"
     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."
     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.
     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"
     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."
    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."
     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.
      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."
     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"
     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.
      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.
     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.
      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 
     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.
You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.
"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.
"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"
"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."
You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.
Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.
Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.
˚➶ 。˚
The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.
     You've been here a million times before.
     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.
     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.
     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.
     This time it's different.
      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.
      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.
       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.
     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.
       You don't remember this.
       This isn't right.
       This isn't your nightmare.
       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"
      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.
     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.
      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.
     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.
You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.
"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.
"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."
"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.
It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.
"A favor for a friend."
With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.
"Enjoy."
The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.
You warily take a seat and pick up the book.
˚➶ 。˚
They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.
Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.
"Hong-"
"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.
Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.
He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.
The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.
Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.
"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."
"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.
You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.
Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.
"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"
Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"
"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"
"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."
They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."
"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"
The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"
A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.
Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.
"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"
They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.
"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.
"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."
"No, what's happening?"
     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.
A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.
Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.
Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."
Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.
"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"
     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.
˚➶ 。˚
The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.
He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.
High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.
A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.
He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.
Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.
The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.
      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.
      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.
     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."
     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"
     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."
      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.
      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.
     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.
     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.
"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."
He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.
"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.
Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.
The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.
"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."
"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.
       3? "Fuck."
     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.
      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.
       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.
      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.
      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"
      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.
     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.
     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.
He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.
Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.
"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.
"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.
It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."
He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.
The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.
Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.
Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.
You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.
You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.
"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."
You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.
"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."
"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.
"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."
"No-"
"Open the fucking door!"
"No!"
The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?
"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.
Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.
He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.
And it was warranted anxiety.
With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.
"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.
Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.
You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.
     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.
     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.
      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.
       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.
     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.
     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.
     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.
     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.
       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."
      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."
       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.
     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.
     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."
    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.
       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.
     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.
      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.
     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.
        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.
     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.
       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.
     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.
They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.
What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.
It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.
"Your turn, omega."
The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.
"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.
A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.
You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.
"Why... why me?"
"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"
"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"
"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."
You were growing dizzy, head spinning.
"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."
You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.
"Why? Because you're... alluring."
That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.
˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ 。˚
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Things to put in your book of shadows
Of course, only put in your book of shadows/grimoire what you want. If you don't want to put certain subjects in your book then that's fine. It's your book, utilize it how you want. This is just a masterlist of ideas that I've put together. Feel free to add anything else to the list that I may have missed, because there's absolutely no way I included everything.
And for the love of all the gods, if you come across a closed entity or practice, don't try to work with the entity or practice if you're not already part of that group or tradition. You can research it but don't practice it.
+ A blessing and/or protection
+ A table of contents
+ About you:
Your current path
Your personal beliefs
Your spiritual journey
Favorite crystals/herbs/animals
Natal chart
Craft name
How you got into the craft
Astrology signs
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7K notes · View notes
ikarakie · 1 year
Text
one of the known, undisputed rules of riding in steve harrington's car: passenger seat gets music privileges.
if you brought your own tape, and won the usually vicious battle for shotgun, there was a 100% chance that the drive would be backed with music of your choice. hell, there was even a small collection growing in steve's glove box of music that wasn’t his, because people left them behind either on accident or on purpose. no one really knew what steve liked to listen to- maybe minus robin- but he always seemed happy with whatever the passenger put in.
until one day, when dustin and lucas and mike climbed into his car. dustin had won passenger seat privileges, after a rather tense game of rock, paper, scissors, and instantly reached for the tape player.
steve smacked his hand down. "paws off, henderson." he scolded, not unkindly. all three kids stared at him like he'd grown a third limb as he pulled out of the wheeler's driveway. electric guitar played at a semi-low volume.
"what the hell?!" dustin squawked. "why can't i change the tape?" steve rolled his eyes, fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the beat on the wheel. none of the kids recognised the song, and it certainly didn't seem the kind of thing steve harrington would willingly listen to.
"is it so surprising i want to listen to my own tape in my car?" steve asks. dustin shouts an affronted, 'YES!' to which steve just shakes his head and continues driving.
the man on the track sings over heavy drums and guitar, talking about how he needed someone to 'show me the things that make true happiness' and 'he must be blind.' then, there's a guitar solo that steve smiles at.
"who are you?" mike asked, suspicious. "what did you do with our steve?"
"oh, shut up, wheeler." steve meets his eye in the rearview mirror. "next one to complain loses tape privileges for their next three turns."
that does shut them up. they make idle conversation over a couple more songs before they pull up to their destination. mostly threatening each other over high scores and making bets. steve waves them off with the usual 'don't be stupid' lecture and pulls out of the arcade parking lot, the bass of whatever the next track had been audible even through his closed doors and windows.
after that, steve retains ownership of his stereo every now and then, always playing some form of heavy metal. it just becomes the norm, though never fails to confound whoever's in the car. (because, seriously? polo shirt wearing steve harrington and heavy metal?)
they only ever hear anyone else listen to it after they join hellfire. eddie invites them to his trailer to create their characters together, and when they walk in one of the songs from that dumb tape is playing from a record in the corner.
"woah! you like this music too?" lucas asks. eddie nods excitedly.
"yeah, man! you a fan?" his smile dims a little when lucas shakes his head, but dustin is quick to jump in.
"our friend steve is always listening to a dumb mixtape with this sorta stuff on it." he explains, missing how eddie's eyes light up and his smile turns a little bashful. "he used to let us play whatever we want, but ever since he got that tape he makes us listen to it sometimes when he drives us around."
"well," eddie sighs, fiddling with one of his chunky silver rings. "seems this steve knows someone with very good taste in music." there's a warm look in his eyes before he claps his hands and diverts their attention to the character sheets he printed out.
later that night, steve gets a call.
"you told me you only listened to that tape once." the voice on the other end drawls. it's low and teasing, but it's undercut with obvious wonder and fondness. steve doesn't even bother pretending to be confused.
"well, it's good." (it makes me think of you) he replies, like it pains him. eddie giggles, and steve eyes the tape in question. sat on his bedside table, 'for my stevie' scrawled across it in eddie's neatest handwriting. shitty little hearts drawn around his name and an even shittier skull at the end. "how'd you know?"
"recognised my mötörhead record." eddie coos, "told me how you revoke their music privileges to listen to it." a pause. "you're so fucking cute."
steve can't help the dorky smile that spreads over his face. the way he twirls the phone cord like a fucking lovesick loser. he cracks a joke about making eddie a mixtape featuring the likes of duran duran and tears for fears, which makes him fake retch. they chat for a little while longer, whispering 'i love you's through the phones like it was their first time saying it.
the tape stays firmly in the bmw's music rotation.
5K notes · View notes
muwapsturniolo · 1 month
Text
✯𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐒𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥✯
IN WHICH... Chris experiences the best head of his life at the freak show.
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! switch!chris, dom!colby, cuck!colby, switch!reader. clowns, fire, alcohol, sexual escapades, oral (m receiving), slapping, choking.
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Chris doesn't know how he got into this situation.
One minute he was at a club in LA with his friends, then he was in some bedroom getting head from Tara's friends who works at the place.
Let's start from the beginning.
Chris was a bit on edge tonight.
The triplets had turned 21 about a week ago, and Tara and a few of their other friends (Sam and Colby, Jake and Johnny, Larray and Quen) had planned to take them to a club. Because Tara was the one who came up with the idea, she decided the club of the night should be ''FreakShow''.
When the triplets heard this, they were all put off by it.
Who names a club FreakShow?
With some convincing, Tara got them to agree. They arrived at the club and instantly were confused with the people they were seeing.
It looked like a rock show with how much leather and gothic faces they were met with. "Tara, what the fuck is this place?" Nick asked as they walked right past the security guard and into the club. Tara answers with a giggle, excitement coursing through her veins.
"Relax! Just have fun tonight!" Colby says clapping his hands and rubbing them together. The group walks through a tunnel that's illuminated in black light, wild scribbles on the wall catching their attention. Chris makes out some of the words scribbled on the wall and he chuckles to himself.
They approach a door where a girl in a clown outfit and face paint greets them. "Tara! Long time no see! How are you?" The girls voice is a bit high-pitched, fitting her clown costume.
"Janey! I know I've been so busy but I brought some new friends since they just turned 21!" The girl, now known as Janey, eyes the triplets. It's as if her mood switches, her body movement becoming more animated. She gives a wide creepy smile showing off her sharp yellow teeth.
"Well, Tara you know the rules. Each new person has to tell the freakiest thing they have done, after all this is the FreakShow."
The triplets immediately look at Tara, their eyes wide. "Tara you did not tell us this!" Everyone laughs as the boys begin to freak out. "Oh calm down! there are no cameras or anything, and this place is free of judgment! Look I'll even say mine!" Tara turned back to Janey and smiled, "I made out with Y/n and Jake watched!" Jake nods along, proving the statement is true.
"Ok, now you guys go! Hurry up I don't want to miss Y/n's show."
The brothers look at each other, speaking with their eyes.
"Fuck it! I blew a guy in the locker room during a fire drill." Nick states.
Chris chokes on his spit hearing Nick's confession. He remembers that day and how Nick was talking about a sore throat. Now he knows why. "Matt your turn," Nick says waving his hand, not wanting the attention to stay on him.
"Umm... Can I like whisper it to you?" He asks Janey. She nods and takes a step closer, allowing Matt to whisper in her ear. She pulls away with an eyebrow raised. "I'm going to find you later, you seem fun to play with." Matt blushes and turns to Chris waiting for him to go.
"Umm, I had sex with a girl wearing a Ghostface mask?" Janey smiles at the group and unlocks the metal door, letting them through with a bow, "Have fun at the FreakShow."
Tara thanked her before pushing the group through the doors.
The sight they are met with is almost scandalous. Multiple people in revealing outfits. Most of them are clown-themed, and others are just straight-up lingerie. Like Janey, some of the faces are covered in paint, and their hair being done up in crazy ways.
There are girls and guys on stages, some dancing on poles and others just dancing provocatively. There are some people in cages and others on aerial hoops.
"This is like a fucking circus!"
Chris states holding onto Larray tightly when a girl walks past him with a snake. Tara guides them to a section that's blocked off and has a perfect view of the stage. Chris immediately notices a wide variety of liquor on the table with a placement card that reads Tara's name.
They sit down and begin to drink, the alcohol instantly loosening Chris up and making him relax.
The group laughs and talks, pointing out the different acts of the "freaks" around them.
"She just shoved a knife down her throat! I definitely think I cou-Holy shit!" Nick jumps back into his seat as a girl walks by, blowing fire out of her mouth. She cackles before bouncing away, literally.
A bit of time passes before a loud voice resembling the Jokers comes over the intercom.
"Tonight we have a special show for you freaks, created by our one and only Y/n, a true freak herself. She loves to scare, and she loves to make all genders crumble. Try not to drool and try not to cream." He lets out a manic laugh that makes some of the crowd uneasy, and the rest shout.
A loud bass fills the club, shaking the whole floor. Chris could feel his insides vibrating along with the bottles on the table. His eyes dart to the stage as the familiar lyrics all over Tiktok makes it's way through his ears.
"Go, go, go, go Head so good, she a honor roll She'll ride the dick like a carnival I done did the impossible!"
A bunch of contorted bodies crawl onto the stage, sending a shiver up Chris's spine. He watches their ragged but hypnotizing movements, the way some of them flip and bend intriguing him.
He sits up seeing an aerial hoop descending down onto the stage, a body attached to it.
"That's Y/n!" Tara shouts as she jumps up from the couch, clapping excitedly.
Y/n does a bunch of tricks on the hoop that has the crowd shouting in encouragement.
Pain all in my eyes, I can't see, huh I'm 'bout to jump out my body, I'm ready to leap, uh
She hangs upside down from the hoop by her legs, two of the dancers beginning to spin her.
Dollar signs all in my dreams, I don't never see Z's, whoa, whoa-whoa That swag cover my body like it's a disease, whoa, whoa-whoa
She sensually lowers her body from the hoops and crawls on the runway of the stage, almost like a lion getting ready to pounce on its prey.
Go, go, go, go Head so good, she a honor roll She'll ride the dick like a carnival I done did the impossible
When she gets to the end of the runway, she arches her back, stretching her arms forward like a cat.
She stands quickly and does backhand springs until she lands in the center of the stage, the rest of the dancers circling around her. One of them grabs her neck, yanking it back harshly and pouring a liquid into her mouth.
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go
She blows bright pink flames from her mouth, the pyrotechnics on the stage following her lead. Everyone screams in shock as the song ends.
"She finally did it! Holy shit!"
The girl smiles and gives her final bow, blowing a kiss to the crowd before cartwheeling off the stage.
"That was different," Matt says after he stops clapping. The club resumes with random songs playing and people continuing their partying. " Y/n always puts on good shows! Never a disappointment."
Colby jumps feeling a pair of hands caress his chest before sliding down, "Aww you flatter me Colby." Tara squeals seeing her best friend. As the girl walks around the couch, Chris takes the time to examine her. Her outfit consists of black ripped fishnets, a bright pink thong that is covered by a black leather mini skirt, and a leather bikini top that presses her boobs together. Her hair was in some kind of style Chris couldn't exactly name, but it suited her. Her makeup wasn't the craziest he'd seen tonight, but it was still enough to pique his interest considering she had one-star eye-contact in, as well as concealed eyebrows. Her feet were covered in black chunky boots that made her seem taller than she actually was.
She plops down in Colby's lap, smiling at Tara. "So I take it we liked the show?"
Everyone begins to hype her up, expressing how good it was. "I'm glad you all loved it! I had to practice my fire blowing for weeks!"
Suddenly Y/n's eyes fall on the three boys, "I've never seen you three before." Her eyes stay on Chris, making him quickly look away. "They are my friends! They just turned 21 and I wanted them to have a fun night! This is Nick, Matt, and Chris!" Tara explains.
Y/n hums and leans back into Colby who is rubbing her thighs through her fishnets.
"Are you three having fun?"
Chris is too busy watching Colby’s hands, he doesn't answer her, leaving Nick and Matt to do so. "This place is very ...different?" Y/n laughs at Nick's descriptive words.
"It is different, that's the joy of it all. A place for any and everyone who might be into the weird things to come in and relax, have fun, unleash their inner freak."
"What are you into?" Chris suddenly asks.
"Ask Colby what I'm into." Chris’s eyes dart to Colby who is cheesing hard. "Oh yeah, this one is crazy. She asked me to hold a knife to her throat a couple of times."
"Girl what? You're insane." Nick says shaking his head. She does nothing but wink before leaning forward and grabbing a cup of alcohol. Chris can't help but watch the way some of the liquid spills out the side of the cup, and falls down her glimmering breasts.
"Oh my god wait! I haven't seen you in so long! I saw you got your tongue split! let me see!" Quen shouts over the music.
Y/n cheeses and opens her mouth, letting the split tongue fall out of her mouth.
Chris thought he would have been disgusted with the muscular organ, but he found himself adjusting how he was sitting, attempting to hide his rising boner.
Colby notices instantly and smirks to himself, plotting.
“I don’t know if I find it cool or weird,” Larray states, poking the tongue in the process. “It hurt like a bitch but it’s so fun now! I can tie a cherry stem now…I also got to eat a girl out and she said it felt amazing.”
“Wait I need to see the cherry thing!”
She takes a cherry from the jar on the table and puts it in her mouth, chewing on the bittersweet fruit before moving her tongue around.
Chris can’t help but imagine what the split tongue would feel like on his tip, wrapped around both sides as she-
“Done!” She sticks her tongue out, the tied stem on display.
Chris sucks in a sharp breath and abruptly stands up, “I-I have to go to the bathroom.” He announces, walking off without another word.
“Y/n you should show him where the bathroom is.” Colby suggests.
Y/n isn’t dumb, she had seen Chris looking at her and trying to hide his boner since she sat down on Colby’s lap.
She gives Colby a look before standing up and strutting off, her eyes set on Chris. She slides infront of him making him stumble back, “let me show you to the bathroom.” She doesn’t give him an option, grabbing his hand and leading him through the club.
They walk through a dimly lit hallway before she pushes him through a curtain.
“T-this isn’t the bathroom.” He mumbles looking around the room. He notices a bed and his heart begins to race.
“I know.” The smile she gives is anything but innocent. She walks closer to him, her taller stature towering over him. “I also know you were only going to the bathroom to jerk off.”
She trails an acrylic finger down his chest before stopping at his belt,
“Tell me Chris, do you like freaks? Cause I like freaks too.”
Her eyes dart up, making the boy gulp as a sheer sheet of sweat forms on his forehead. She leans down and whispers in his ear, “I’m not stupid, I saw the way you were looking at me, especially my tongue.” She allows the split muscle to lightly lick his ear.
His face burns a bright pink as he whimpers. “Come on, you know you want to.” She taunts as her hand lightly begins to palm him.
“W-what about Colby?”
“What about me?”
Y/n whips around and smiles seeing the tall boy. He walks over and stands behind her, wrapping his large hand around her throat. “Is this s-some kind of joke? Aren’t you guys dating?” Chris asks looking at the two, his heart beating out of his chest.
“Dating? Nooo, me and this one just like to have fun sometimes.” Y/n giggles and nods along to Colby’s words, her hand still palming Chris.
Colby lets go of Y/n and walks over to a chair in the corner, taking a seat. “Now, I’m giving you the opportunity to have fun tonight.”
“Come on Chris, don’t you want to have fun?” Y/n tags on.
Chris looks over to Colby who nods, giving him the ok to agree.
"Yeah...Ok"
Y/n grins sadistically before grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pushing the boy back on the bed. Chris is looking at her as if she’s crazy, he’s never been manhandled by a girl before and he didn’t expect it to turn him on this much.
She crawls over him before settling down on his lap, grinding down on his erection. His hands fly to her hips as he lets out a barely audible moan.
“Tell me what you want pretty boy,” she continues to grind her hips, her own wetness spreading through her folds.
“He wants your mouth,” Colby answers as he palms himself through his jeans. She grins down at Chris, tilting her head to the side.
“You want my mouth?” She leans down, watching his eyes dart to her lips. She sees the temptation in his eyes and she feeds into it. She grabs hold of his jaw and plants her lips against his.
He squeezes her sides tightly as she pushes her tongue in his mouth, a chill running up his spine as he feels the split muscle fighting against his own tongue.
“Quit teasing him,” Colby demands. Y/n pulls away from Chris with an eye roll and looks at Colby.
“I’m not teasing him, it’s called foreplay. Maybe you forgot since everyone else you fuck is trash.” Her bratty response causes Colby to rise to his feet. He yanks her off of Chris and forces her to her knees.
He grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back and looking down at her smirking face.
"She's a brat Chris, always wanting to press your buttons and get you worked up until you go over the deep end-"
Chris's eyes widen for what seems like the umpteenth time this night seeing Colby slap the girl on her knees. Her face whips to the side but her chesire smile never leaves.
He does it again, and again, and again, until Y/n is sniffling softly, her smile slowly falling. Colby grabs hold of her jaw and forces her head upward, "are you done being a brat?"
"Yes," she answers obediently, her once playful and seductive tone replaced with a submissive one.
Colby takes the initiative and shoves Y/n's face into Chris's hard-on, the bulge pressing against her aching cheek.
"Now be good and suck him off. We both know you've been wanting to try that new modification out."
Chris stays frozen, this whole situation being new to him. He doesn't know what to do besides sit and watch.
"Now!" The girl jumps and hastily begins to unbutton Chris's belt. He lifts himself up, aiding her in pulling both his pants and boxers down.
His cock springs up and Y/n can feel her mouth salivating, her lips parting slightly as she examines the phallus.
She grabs the base and inches forward, holding eye contact as she spits on his tip. He whimpers at the feeling on his tip, the whimper turning into a soft moan as she begins to pump.
His moans are like music to her ears, egging her on. They differ from Colby, more soft and a bit shy. Colby's is deep and more dominant. She figures it's because he's not in his element of control in the bedroom, not used to having a girl calling the shot and handling him how she sees fit.
She loves it.
He flinches feeling both sides of her tongue running up his shaft. She wraps her plump lips around his swollen tip, swirling her tongue around it. Suddenly her head is pushed down and held in place, shocking both her and Chris.
Chris groans and clenches his eyes shut feeling her throat clench around him.
"What did I say about teasing? Suck his dick the right way or I'm not fucking you tonight."
The threat of not being fucked into the mattress after not seeing Colby for a month gets to her.
She doesn't hold back, immediately bobbing her head and slobbering all over him.
Chris can feel his soul leaving his body, his toes curling as her split tongue adds even more pleasure. It felt better than he could imagine.
"Shit!" He doesn't know if he wants to push her away or let her continue the assault on his dick. As she begins to fondle his balls, he bucks his hips forward, his dick hitting the back of her throat. He panics thinking he hurt her but stops realising,
She didn't gag.
She didn't gag when Colby pushed her head down either.
She doesn't have a gag reflex.
"You can be rough with her Chris, don't be scared. She likes being used, isn't that right?"
Chris sucks in a sharp breath and bites his lip as the girl moans around him, confirming Colby's words. She pulls away from him, a wide and deranged smile on her face.
"Fuck my mouth Chris, I know you want to." She kitten licks his tip, pushing him to break.
And he does just that.
His hand finds its way to the back of her head, gripping the pink hair and pushing her head back down.
He begins to fuck her mouth, not hard enough to hurt her (his actions still unsure to him), but hard enough to make spit pool out of her mouth.
The drool mixed with precum falls out the side of her mouth, some getting on the bed, some falling on her chest, and the rest trickling down his shaft.
His grunts and moans along with the lewd slurping noises bounce off the walls of the room as his thrusts become more erratic, chasing his orgasm.
She can tell he's close, feeling his dick twitching in her mouth, the way his stomach caves in with the harsher he breathes.
She pushes his hands away and lifts her head, "cum in my mouth pretty boy, you know you want to."
She swirls her tongue around his tip, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
"Ah sh-" Chris cuts himself off with a loud groan and shoves her head all the way down. She feels the cum hit the back of her throat, sliding down with ease.
She pulls off of him with a pop and licks her lips, watching Chris breathe heavily.
She pulls him down and begins to make out with him, standing up slowly and crawling on top of him.
She's hungry for him now, wanting to experience his girth inside of her. Before she could even begin to remove her fishnets, Colby stops them, "Not so quick pretty girl." She stops and looks at Colby, still grinding down on Chris. She watches as he approaches them.
"You think you get to fuck two people tonight?" She giggles, moving off of Chris and closer to Colby, "Greedy girl. He can't even handle you and you want to play with him." He snatches her by her neck and leans closer before planting his lips against hers.
chris watches as the two make out next to him, his body buzzing with adrenaline. "You wanna give Chris a show? Hm? You want to show him how to handle you for next time?" Y/n nods eagerly, not even paying attention to what Colby is saying, just wanting to be fucked dumb.
"Sit on the chair Chris, you're going to learn how to fuck her just how she likes it."
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can yall tell where i lowkey gave up? 😭 lmao sorry.
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