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xxanaduwrites · 2 days

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much ado about nothing, major

ii. bluell & blue skies

the main hub

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— ii. some inappro-pro jokes courtesy of curt & mentions of beating a dude up, that’s all i got folks !

word count: 5.5k

there must be something or nothing at all.

The sound of clinking glasses, chattering men, giggling women, and tapping feet amongst the beat of swinging jazz filled the Officer’s Club and the ears of one Maude Bluell at roughly around 2100 hours.

The newly polished nurse of Thorpe Abbot’s infirmary leaned rather uncomfortably against a nearby wall with her fellow colleagues observing the function. Now changed out of her more suitable work attire, she stiffened like a board in the confines of her neatly pressed Red Cross issued uniform. Already becoming rather used to her usual loose white ward dress and cap, the fitted material of the more proper wear seemed foreign to her. Too foreign to be a uniform worn just a week prior, in route for base transfer.

The more she spent in the infirmary, the more time was proving itself to be heavier conceptually speaking and lighter actuality speaking. The truth of the matter was that Nurse Bluell witnessed enough loss in one week that could very well add up to more than whole lifetime.

So maybe — just maybe the Dirty Shirley Q was attempting to shove into Maude’s hand — wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “‘S not all that bad, Blue. Just a cherry little thing with a pinch of alc. ‘S like sucking up straight candy.” Susie slurred and the bright red liquid swayed like a wave in a storm trapped in glass.

“Not everyone wants to rot out their teeth and stain their tongues red like you, Q.” Lottie pointed out and grimaced at the concoction with a sweet cherry on top. To prove her point further, the blonde took a sip of her less colorful drink — a simple gin and tonic.

If the concept of “two sides of the same coin” could be defined by people, Maude was certain Lottie and Q were the perfect definition.

It became quite apparent early on that Lottie upheld a more serious and resolved persona, taste aligning simplistic and rather blander than her bubbly and eccentric colleague Q who flourished in a rather colorful nature.

In an odd way, even though the two could get into the occasional spat over their differences, they overall leveled each other out in a way where Blue wasn’t sure where she exactly fit in. How she found fit into such an established dynamic.

“And not everyone wants to deny every name on their dance card, but here you are,” She countered, clearly commenting on something Maude was unfamiliar with. Something that spiked a nerve in Lottie. The red headed nurse noticed the newbie's confusion drawing prominently in her features. “Lots has a look but no touch policy,” She explained, the drink flailing about even more dangerously as she exasperated, enough for Maude to accept this drink from her without a word.

Crossing her arms over her chest, the all work, no play blonde ignored her former colleague and turned to her new one. “It’s not entirely true. You see, I look at it this way. We touch men all day long –” Sue promptly cut Lottie off with a well timed snort, and Lottie sighed but continued on, “rotating between check-ups, wrapping wound after wound, and seeing them in their most vulnerable states…I just – I don’t know, something about it doesn’t sit right with me,” she shrugged nonchalantly, not knowing that her words laid heavily on Maude’s own chest.

“But, there’s no denying that the girl lovesssss to look!” Sue chirped in, nudging her friend’s shoulder who’s mischievous grin was hidden behind the rim of her gin and tonic. “Speaking of, has anyone caught your eye yet, Blue? See anything you like?” She mused, fishing for the hot gossip as she liked to do.

Had anyone caught her eye? Well a very certain major who had waltzed his way into the infirmary just this morning had, but could she admit such a thing when she was trying to convince herself otherwise?

“Oh I – I dunno,” Maude finally spoke up and blushed madly, cheeks promptly dusting pink.

She suddenly felt grateful for the Dirty Shirley and took a sip, the tart yet sweet mixture coating her tongue in a delightful way. The condensation of the glass felt cool against her now heated skin, and she prayed it would cool down her unease in the current conversation. If not, at least she could simply blame it on the drink. Not that she knew very well what it was like for herself. She wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with, but she had been around enough functions with family and friends alike to know how flushed face one could get on a glass or two – worse with a few more added into the mix.

“Give the girl some time. She just got here after all and we haven’t given her a run down yet on who’s who.” She noted. “Wait, have we?” She asked, turning to Blue for confirmation to which she shook her head in a delcarative no. “Oh then, this’ll be a thrill. Perfect timing then, ain’t it Sue.”

“Absolutely! You’re in good hands Maude Bluell. Can’t go wrong with Lots full boring government names in conjunction with my fun nicknames for the full effect.” Sue added.

“It’s not boring, it’s official and makes our job a whole lot easier.” Lottie reasoned. “At least I can identify each pilot by their title and rank efficiently with no hiccups on their health charts.”

“Hey! It was just one time, and in my defense it’s not my fault that two Majors decided to have the same goddamn nickname, and it’s no help when Croz only refers to them as the “two Buckys” in conversation.”

“Two Buckys’?” Maude questioned, rather perplexed.

“Yes, see the blonde over there. Strong cheekbones. Full lips. Bright blue eyes,” Lottie — as loud as Maude could hear over the blaring music and as subtly as she could, a good two gin and tonics in — pointed to the definition of such a man seated right in front of the Officer’s band.

Maude followed her eye and nodded in confirmation.

“That’s Major Gale Cleven,” She said in her left ear.

And on her right side Sue added in, “Buck, or in other words — if you couldn’t tell — the man Lots was fawning for before she found out he’s got a girl back home.”

Lottie shot her a look.

“What? Made it real obvious with those detailed descriptors. I’m simply stating facts.” Sue regarded Lottie while fetchinf the cherry out of her own Dirty Shirley “Anyways, Name’s Marge. Short for Marjorie. High School sweethearts from Wyoming or something like that.

Major Gale “Buck” Cleven — Maude repeated over in her head, trying to commit it to memory.

“Couldn’t help it. He’s a real gentleman. Quite reserved but extremely smart. Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke. Doesn’t gamble. Doesn’t dance with a single girl. It intrigued me.” Lottie concluded and then continued on, “next to him, to the right is Major John Egan.” Lottie trained Maude’s gaze just where she wanted her and just where Maude herself had not expected to be.

Major John Egan. Major Egan. The man Lieutenant Payne had mentioned in his demotion and replacement from today’s mission. The man who walked right into the infirmary at 0900 hours and churned something deep inside her, yet to be deciphered.

Out of his flying gear and signature sheepskin jacket, she took in the sight of Major Egan in his more formally pressed uniform, and her breath hitched. There was no denying how handsome he looked all cleaned up, but she wouldn’t make that known to them. Not now and especially not here.

“That’s Bucky.” Q was back in her right ear, and Maude wondered if this is what it felt to have an angel and a devil on your shoulders, whispering different things. “Confusing, aye?”

“Bucky,” she repeated aloud, a small laugh escaping the nurse as she twirled the straw around in her drink. “So it’s Buck and Bucky then, not the Buckys.”

“Technically, yes.” Lottie nodded.

“Quite redundant.”

“Precisely, but for good reason I suppose. Sue can explain that one further.”

“Oh yes!” She lit up. “So apparently, Major Egan has always been known as Bucky back home and when he first saw Major Cleven, well he couldn’t get over how much he looked like some fella named Buck from Manitowoc, Wisconsin — also his home — and they’ve been stuck like glue ever since. All in good word from Curt of course who filled me in on all this business.”

“Right…and oh! Over here is Captain Bernard Demarco.”

“Benny.” Sue cut in again.

“He’s the one that has that sweet pup Meatball running around, and….” Lottie kept the flow going, canning the conversation on the redundant nature of the Buckys.

Maude tried her best to stay attentive, taking in the passing faces and attaching them to their respected names, yet she couldn’t help but draw her gaze back to Major Egan who’s long fingers were tapping against the arms of the chair he occupied to the beat of smooth jazz as he spoke to his friend next to him. She attuned her bouncing stare to the drink starting to take effect in her system, but also to her remembrance of why she truly pulled up to the function — to find Lieutenant Crosby and properly congratulate him on his promotion.

Yet, through the whisking crowd of people, the target of her mission became indetectable.

At some point Katherine “Tatty” Spaatz, daughter of Lieutenant Carl Spaatz, and Helen — both Red Cross volunteers for the Clubmobile circling the Eighth Air Force’ First Air Division — joined in on the conversation, greeting the nurses, and meeting the new addition to their circuit.

Tatty recounted stories to Lottie of countless pilots trying to get in her good graces just to secure a promotion from her father. It never worked, while Helen continued to help Sue familiarize Maude with the crew on base. Helen was in the middle of trying to point out another pilot to the nurse when the band started playing a new song — a popular song that not only Sue knew very well, but Maude too. Blue Skies by Irving Berlin. Maude hummed it to herself the past week any chance she got. Any time she was feeling rather blue so to speak — ironically enough. And Sue — well Sue wasn’t one not to be observant.

“Blue!” She interrupted Helen’s tagging game by latching onto Maude’s arm. “It’s your song.” She proposed excitedly.

Maude, taken aback for just a moment, collected herself enough to correct the notion and Helen’s sudden raised brow. “Oh — I — ‘S not my song. I just like it.” She shrugged.

“But your Bluell. Blue. Blue Skies!” Q slurred shirly as ever. “Come on Blue. Sing for us.”

“Oh no I — I don’t sing,” The shy nurse mumbled out, not lying so to speak but not telling the truth either. Sure, Bluell sang, but only when she was alone. When no one else was present. When she had a good sense of privacy. Humming was one thing, but singing no — singing was a whole other ball game.

“‘S not true. I’ve heard you.” She assured, making escaping this proposition even more impossible.

Maude gasped. “When?”

“Just the other day. When you were out hanging the sheets up on the line,” the red head recalled, not giving up by any means.

As a newbie of sorts, Maude was appointed to hang up the freshly washed sheets outside to dry before the beds were made back up — neat and clean in preparation for the inevitable return of injured pilots. Q usually came out with a basket to collect the dry ones, and on one particular day, she had caught the nurse there — singing away in what she assumed to be a rather private area. Instead of making herself known, Q took a moment to listen to the newbie's voice, connecting to what she could only imagine to be what fluffy clouds would sound like if you could hear them in one’s ears, if clouds could in fact sit in such a way — soft and airy on a summer’s sunny day.

“My, well I —I” Embarrassment dusted Maude’s features as she found herself at loss for words in being discovered.

“Yes, she has quite the voice!” Lottie suddenly overheard the conversation, added in, piquing the interest of the Clubmobile girls.

Maude silently wondered if her colleagues and newfound friends were really her friends at all.

“Oh! Now I must know. Would you sing for us?” Tatty asked, absolutely intrigued by this information and ever-so slightly tipsy herself.

“I – I dunno,” Maude replied shyly, her fingers reaching up to the edge of her collar, tugging the material away from her now heated skin.

“It would boost morale,” Helen reasoned, actually considering the state of their boys and how music seemed to ease their souls.

Especially one Major John Egan who, little to Maude’s current attention, was absolutely fizzing with delight just across the way.

“Do you know what this is missing?” The Major probed suddenly to the blonde Lottie described in heavy detail only moments prior.

Buck, knowing his friend and exactly what he would be up to whenever music was involved did not hesitate in replying. “Nothing.”

“Vocals.” John announced, totally disregarding his friend’s input on the matter.

With a sigh, Gale reiterated, “no, it’s not.”

“I’m gonna sing.” John proposed, as if it was not already obvious enough to Gale.

Already ten steps ahead of his antsy friend, Gale’s reflexes proved to be on par and he eased John back down in his seat just as fast. In complete conjunction as one Nurse Maude Bluell was being eased herself. Right in front of the band and the lone microphone propped on a stand next to the conductor. A conductor who found himself rather confused with the sudden presence as well as the rest of the club when she nervously tapped it with a cherry red nail, freshly done up by Q. A necessity as the red head liked to say in her chain of convincing for the night. A chain that Maude had found herself unmistakably tied to for the rest of the evening with a reasoning of Biddick’s MIA on center stage.

“Looks like a lady has beat you to it.” Gale hummed in complete amusement. An amusement not reciprocated by his friend, slouched in defeat with his arms crossed over his chest in utter disappointment.

The nurse cleared her throat suddenly, trying to stifle her nerves and block out the faces that were drawn to her every move. So much so that she even had one Major John Egan attuned, eyes glued to her like a hawk catching their prey.

A twinge of familiarity washed over him as he took in the young woman with full red lips and pinned up hair, a complete contradiction to the nurse he saw in scrubs just a few hours prior attending to Lieutenant Joseph Payne. Yet, what captivated him, what really set in that sense of recognition were her eyes. Those hazy green eyes that had almost rendered him speechless in completing his promotional tasks for Croz.

“B—Blue Ski —“ the raven haired woman’s vocal chords betrayed her rather quickly leading the men — with a lack of better judgment enraptured with booze filled minds — to laugh at her mishap.

“Learn your place sweetheart!” Someone hollered far away. Too far away for Bucky to attach a face to voice so to speak, but close enough that he could make out every single syllable, every single word clustered in a sentence that made his blood boil tenfold.

He was no singer himself — hell he couldn’t carry a note for the life of him, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that singing — singing your heart out was freeing. It was fun. It was a way to forget the truth of it all. The truth of this reality, adhered to a war wrapped in violence and a future of uncertainty. A future only men lucky enough could promise.

Instead of jumping out of his seat, finding the man, and beating him to a pulp like he really wanted to for speaking to a lady in such a disrespectful manner — he decided on a different approach. An approach that would ease the clear embarrassment of the pretty raven haired nurse in front of him.

“Jack,” he whispered over to the pilot on his left, cringing at the scene. “should I sing?” He asked him, hoping to gain a better sense of backup clearly not tuned to his level headed friend.

To Bucky’s misfortune, Jack was with Buck on this one. “No.”

He tried again, this time with another colleague adjacent to buck. “Should I sing?” He motioned again.

And again. “No. You’ll just make it worse.”

John sighed. “Alright, you’re right. You're right.” He feigned a nod in agreement, putting on a facade that did not last long enough to see the light. Looking back at the nervous nurse caged in laughter of no good nature, John knew there was no shot in hell he’d leave her there imprisoned. Whatever bit of jealousy had set him off as he saw her hit the stage of sorts was long gone.

So, he hyped himself up, readying himself to take flight just as he did every time in a B-17, and tapped his fingers against the wooden edges of his chair. Letting out a breath, he finally stood up and danced his way over to the mic, leading Gale to send him a classic knowing glance of his that was reserved to him alone anytime he whipped up an antic.

“It’s my song, Buck!” He reasoned to his best friend just before turning around and coming face to face with the green eyed goddess.

Completely surprised, Maude nearly gasped at the sudden intrusion but collected herself enough to follow his gaze as he fitted himself behind her.

“May I?” The Major whispered against her ear, his arm brushing against her hip as he reached for the microphone in front of her.

His touch proved to be magnetic — electric even, and it shot something within her enough to keep upright and reply ever-so carefully. “My yes. Of — Of course, Major.” She went to step out of the way, but a warm and gentle hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against John’s side.

She could have melted then in his embrace, fitted so perfectly next to him as he grasped the mic and stared down at her as he began to sing….

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

And then, just as she was starting to feel comfortable being serenaded, but considering the prospects of a duet, Major Egan’s hand flexed at her side, signaling the tilt of the mic close enough in her direction that they could sing together.

Yet, to her surprise he let her have her moment alone.

When you’re in love. My how they fly.

And the lines came out clear — clearer than she could ever imagine, but that was all she would contribute. She’d let the Major take the reins on the rest of the song with a simple nod of encouragement.

Blue days

All of them gone

Nothing but blue skies

From now on

With a final flourish, he dipped the young nurse. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the sudden movement, sending shock waves throughout her whole body in a reminiscent way. One that reminded her of her childhood. It brought back memories of the very first time she ever rode the Coney Island Cyclone with her father. The creeks of the wooden structure probed nervous jitters as the roller coaster went up, up, up — only to bring sweet relief as the cars swooshed down, down, down. And down she was now with Major Egan’s charming features in her direct line of sight. Pretty pearly whites, deep blue eyes, and large warm hands leaving her breathless yet grounded in his embrace.

If it wasn’t for the cheers that rounded out amongst the ladies and the hardy laughs that echoed from the men, the Major and nurse could have very well been locked in their own world — where it was just the two of them, alone. But they weren’t alone. They were surrounded by a bubbly crowd of fellow airmen and red cross members alike who were now making their way to the floor to dance out their newfound excitement.

Yet, the caging of it all felt rather intimate to Maude — who was now being pulled right back up by Major Egan. With a bit of a stumble and a trip of a heel, he caught her before she could trip — a strong arm wrapping around her lower back, urging her upright like a straight torpedo.

Her cheeks reddened ripper than the deep shade of lipstick coating her lips as her hand subconsciously found itself situated on Egan’s chest. Palm fizzing against the eloquent beat of his heart.

“Hi,” he mused, eyes sparking in delight as he took in the small frame of the nurse in front of him — her lack of height noticeable at this newfound proximity.

His prominent figure towered above her, forcing her to crane her neck back and head upward to look him in the eye. It wasn’t surprising. Truly it wasn’t. His stature became apparent the moment she first saw him. But now, standing right in front of him, practically caged over his towering presence was intimidating. “H-Hi.” She managed out and then tumbled in a frantic frenzy. “Bucky — I mean J— Major.” She sighed in an effort to compose herself and settled on, “Major Egan.”

Maude’s fumble did not fail to surprise the Major. It struck a pitch of laughter out of him instantly.

A pitch that Maude didn’t catch as a reaction to his sudden charm of her. “My apologies.”

So John, well he would swing until he got a home run. “No need to fret, doll.” He reassured her. “‘M not a formalities type anyways. Nothing good comes out of being a tyrant in team sports.”

“You’re an athlete then?” Maude questioned, trying to annunciate her words as loud as possible considering the boisterous music in the room.

Bucky chortled and matched her. “Far from that. Much more enjoy being an observer. A listener. More of a reader nowadays to keep up with the score.”

“Understandable.” She nodded, tilting her head ever-so subtly to get a better reading of him. “And what team has the pleasure of your devotion, Major?”

“Bucky. Please. Call me Bucky.” He corrected her. “And baseball. The New York Yankees,” he replied and her eyes alit with a familiarity John picked up on without fail. “You like the Yanks, doll?”

“Yes — well no. I mean being from Brooklyn it’s only customary for me to be a Dodgers fan. But you — you’re not a New Yorker, so I’ve heard.”

“That’s right. You’re fairly acquainted with me, ain’t yuh? Yet, I can’t recall the same for you. No shot in hell would I ever forget a gal quite as pretty as you.”

“That’s rather kind of you, Maj — Bucky.”

“Got a name, doll? A nickname even? Rank?”

“Maude. Maude Rue Bluell. American Red Cross Nurse for the 100th bomb group. Just touched down last week. But, I’ve found myself replying to the call of Blue. Quite redundant in name. I know. Yet, I have a bit of suspicion that it’s more complimentary of my mood as of late,” she revealed, more than she intended. More than she even expected. Usually — in matters such as this one — she’d find herself to be rather shy and timid. Especially in the presence of such a devily handsome man as Major Egan himself.

But something — something in the way he spoke to her was easing. His teamwork mantra proved to be a strong suit in his personality. She could tell he was a good leader just by his attitude and stance — equalizing himself against a woman in such an untraditional light. Subconsciously, it made Maude more drawn to the young man in uniform.

The edge of his lip curved up in a smirk. “Blue, huh?”

Bluell only had a second to nod in confirmation before the Major grabbed her hand, spinning her in a circle in accordance to the music. He pulled her back just as fast, her back aligning perfectly against his broad solid chest. A strong arm wrapped around her stomach, slender fingers taking shelter against her hip.

He leaned over then, the combination of his lips and mustache tickling the delicate skin of her ear quickened the pace of her heart. “Seems I’ve found myself my very own Blue Sky then,” he whispered.

She let out a laugh. A real genuine one. Lips perking up in a sweet smile.

“Smooth, yeah?” He mused, his lips still close enough to brush a smile against her ear a second time and his voice still low yet husky enough to warm up her insides.

“Mhm,” she hummed simply, rolling her emerald eyes playfully in an attempt to conceal her affections. “Out of the park.” She mused, swaying back and forth in his hold.

“That’a girl!” He chirped as she spun out of his hold.

Their hands puzzled right back together instantly, feet tapping to the beat as they danced with the rest of the pairings on the floor. There they were, forgetting all their troubles in the heat of the party. Just as the other girls intended. Just as John intended. Maybe for once, Maude could admit that the Club was the best medicine for her troubles, even if it would wear off come morning.

John and Maude danced well off into the night, until the nurse’s heels left blisters on her soles and a sheen of sweat dusted the curls on Bucky’s forehead. The Major was one to take notice, channeling his inner gentleman as he excused himself to fetch the two of them refreshments from the bar.

Alone, she moved out of the boisterous crowd to meet the girls but stopped short once she noticed Lieutenant James Douglas approaching them.

Meanwhile, John was situated at the bar next to Buck when a call came through for them. “Buck. Egan”

“Sir.” Buck replied as John took a swig of his drink, waiting patiently for Maude’s to be fixed up.

“From who?” Bucky asked intrigued.

“Operator, I have Majors Cleven and Egan…” Red murmured before passing the phone to Buck.

Buck took it with ease, a chorus of his name ringing out of the speaker from a far too familiar New York accent. “Yup.”

“Ayeeee Buck is that you?” Lieutenant Biddick exclaimed on the line just as John was leaning over to listen in on the conversation.

“Curt.” Buck confirmed, leading John to follow suit an octave louder in a Bucky like fashion.

“Curt!” John banged his fist on the table, pleased to know Curt had made it.

Susie being nosey as she tended to be, did not fail to excuse herself from the flirting attempts of Douglas on Helen. She whipped across the floor in an instant, locking a careful arm around Bluell, dragging her to the bar with her. “It’s Curt!” She chirped, beaming from ear to ear.

“Buck! Buck!” Curt repeated as the girls found themselves at the bar. Q fitting herself right next to Gale on his right – Maude sandwiched between her and Red.

“Yeah, it’s Buck and John. Susie’s here too. Where’d you end up?” Gale spoke for the two of them.

“Ughhhh, that’s a very very good question, but we’re safe and sound ‘er.” Curt replied amidst his own boisterous surroundings. He pulled the phone away for a moment to ask, “Hey! Aye, wh – where am I?”

“Where are ya?” Someone asked far away. Too far away for John or the girls to grasp, but close enough for Gale to catch the tail end of.

“Where am I?” Curt repeated.

“In the devil’s dope son!”

“Ugh–ah we made a wee bit of a mess up ‘er.” Curt explained. “Well – the people are really swell and they’re looking after us. It turns out they don’t like the English much either, but they like me because I’m Irish!”

Again muffled voices took over. “You’re not Irish.”

“I’M IRISH!” Curt yelled, brushing smiles across the faces of Buck, Bucky, and the girls.

“No you’re not.”

“Hey, my family's Irish.” He was still going on, the group trying their hardest not to burst out in laughter. “I told ya I’m an American but anyways… Buck – hold on, hold on.” A rustling sound took over for a moment as Curt resituated himself. “Ugh, I wanted to call you and to let Sue know I’m ‘ight but…Thank you Buck…Thank both of you for saving our asses. I mean it.”

“Yeah, well alright you just get back here soon, Curt.” Buck replied.

“We miss you Curt. We’re glad you’re still with us!” John yelled.

“He’s okay. He’s really okay!” Susie bit back a smile.

“He’s quite alright.” Maude assured, resting a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Eh – John said he misses his little spoon.” Buck joked and Sue laughed.

“Heyyyy I’m the big spoon ‘er remember?” Curt chided. “Just ask my Sue. Where’s my Sue?” He asked, unraveling the lollipop she supplied him earlier.

“It’s gonna be cold tonight Curt!” John added.

Curt’s voice became muffled as he shoved the petite treat in his mouth.. “Gotta tell ‘er I’m sucking ‘er cherry rye now.”

“W–What?” Buck’s eyes widened up in surprise and embarrassment at the rather inappropriate and unexpected joke.

John did not fail to miss the twist of Gale’s features. He picked up on it rather quickly, his interest peeking instantly. “What he say? What he say?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You know what Curt. Lemme pass the phone. Sue, Curt wants to talk to you.”

She squealed excitedly and grabbed the phone. “Hi baby!” Soon her fingers were wrapped around the cord, mirroring how wrapped up she was in conversation with her man.

Maude watched her friend beam with a newfound sense of radiance. Her joyfulness bounced off of her like bright sunbeams, warming up Bluell just as much.

She was so stuck on the picture of her friend, she didn’t realize John had weaseled his way next to her until he was nudging his shoulder with hers. “Doll..” He pushed a glass of water across the table in front of her.

“Thank you.” She hummed. A smile was still plastered across her face as she took a sip.

“So much for being blue, huh?” John mused, completely infatuated with her smile. “Nothing but blue skies…from now onnnn…” He sang in her ear.

Her cheeks began to sting from smiling so much. “You're something else, Major Egan.”

“Well – I’d hope so. Rather be something than nothing at all, you know?” He replied thoughtfully, so thoughtfully that his simple yet profound words settled deeply within the confines of her chest.

“I –” She began to say something, anything really but lost her train of thought in an instance when a fellow pilot interrupted across the Club to make an announcement.

“Come on everybody! Bike race in the mess hall – who’s in?”

“I am.” Bucky stated.

“Me too.” Buck agreed.

And that was that. It was settled. The boys would be racing and Maude and the rest of the ladies would be pulled along to watch.

John grasped Maude’s hand then to do just that, but stopped her in his tracks as he leaned over to whisper, “wait – don’t I get a good luck kiss?”

His forwardness took her by surprise, and even though his charm was very well infectious, she found herself hesitant to appeal to his wishes. “I wouldn’t suggest pushing your luck, Major, but I’m not the kind of lady to oppose a reward in the face of a victor.”

“Ah,” He held their conjoined hands up and kissed the back of hers, sending goosebumps across her fully clothed skin. “More reason for me to win then, hm.”

“Precisely.” She hummed in agreement, right before he took off, dragging her along. Leaving her in a fatal attempt of matching his long strides as she giggled and yelped out his name.

Before she knew it, she found Lottie and the rest of the girls in the Mess, perched and ready to watch the race along with Croz who was mounting a bike not too far away. She congratulated him in passing, and he was happy to see her. It was all a frenzy of fun and games, absolute excitement – until it wasn’t. Until the boys were just reaching the finish line, – Bucky right behind Buck – and the alarms were going off. Alarms that reminded them of the war they were truly in. A war that kept them on their toes and left them taking shelter. Left John without his kiss and Maude running dry of her medicine.

There would be more blue days than blue skies for Nurse Maude Rue Bluell and Major John Bucky Egan – but this night – this very night proved to be the catalyst of something new for the two.

Something that would become much ado.

iiii!! idk how i feel about this but enjoy peeps. feedback would me amazeballs. also curt is wilddddddd 👀🍒🍭

love ya’ll,

xanadu

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#major john egan x nurse maude bluell #major john bucky egan x ofc #mota fandom #mota fanfiction #major gale buck cleven #major john bucky egan #lieutenant curtis biddick #lieutenant curtis biddick x ofc #maude rue bluell #callum turner fandom #mota fic #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air

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crescentmoonrider · 2 years

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If this unreliable self can become someone... - Part 1 (Annotated Edition)

Toji wakes from his nap to a thief running off with his things. He can deal with it, until it turns out the thief is haunted, until it turns out the thief reminds Toji of the person he hates the most. [Edo AU]

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Because I’m a complete nerd, and also because I love doing useless stuff, I decided to spend hours on research for the sake of (checks notes) a niche fanfiction for a shounen manga. So now I just have to share some of that.

This post details some of the historical background littering the setting of this story, as well as explanations on a few of my writing choices. Mostly historical stuff, though. Edo-era Japan cool.

So here goes !

Ghosts and fights are the flowers of ???

It’s something of a habit for me to overthink titles, and this series is no exception. For this first part, the title comes from the Edo-era saying “Fires and fights are the flowers of Edoˮ (火事と喧嘩は江戸の華), referring to the great amount of city fires that tended to strike the city, and the reputation of Edo inhabitants as, uh, let’s say a rowdy bunch.

For the title, I adjusted the saying to fit with the events of this story, since it features more ghosts than fires, and doesn’t take place in Edo. Actually, I don’t know where it takes place (hence the “???”) – or rather, I decided not to have any specific setting in mind, to save myself from the geographic research I would probably end up doing otherwise. I just know I would’ve spent hours on it, just for the sake of namedropping a single street, because I don’t know what restraint is. As you can probably gather by the existence of this commentary track orz

Speaking of titles, I had to come up with a series title as well, which. I hadn’t thought about until like, 10 minutes before posting. I ended up settling for an excerpt of the lyrics to Sakayume, the end credit song to the JJK 0 movie. It fits pretty well, I think !

“That’s a brat alright […]. Could be fifteen, could be twenty-five.”

Toji strikes me as the kind of person who calls anyone younger than him a brat, and anyone older an old fart. So this word choice is less an indication of Yuuta’s actual age in this, than of Toji being rude. I don’t actually know Yuuta’s exact age in this part, but I’d say he’s probably around 16.

“… A vengeful ghost.”

Other than the time-period, and Yuuta’s age having been moved up by about ten years, there’s one last Big Change in the setting, and it’s the fact that there are no Curses. Instead, I decided to lean more into traditional mythology, and to make Toji suspect that Rika is a vengeful ghost, or onryō (怨霊). Typically, these are victims of a crime or a grave injustice, but sometimes they may also simply have died young. The common thread between them is that they hold a grudge (as is indicated in the 怨 part of the name), which is the root of their haunting the world of the living.

So uh, Toji is wrong, actually. Not that he really has a way of knowing it yet.

The “no Curses” thing also means that Cursed Energy doesn’t exist, and so neither do Cursed Techniques nor Heavenly Restriction.

Okiku

We don’t have a name for Megumi’s mom, so I had to make one up. Women’s names during the Edo era were typically two-syllables long (the お (hiragana O) prefix being a honorific one rather than part of the name), and after taking some time to think it over, I decided to make a reference to a famous ghost story with the name of our dearest dead mom.

The story, known as Banchō Sarayashiki (番町皿屋敷) is that of Okiku (お菊), a servant at a noble house. For breaking a plate from a set of 10 (whether she actually did it depends on the version, but she is accused of it no matter what), she is beaten and thrown into a well by her master, where her ghost remains, and can be heard counting from 1 to 9, and breaking down before reaching 10. Depending on who you ask, she is either tormenting her master by loudly haunting his well, or tormenting herself by reliving the events that led to her death.

My reasons for referencing this specific story with the name of Megumi’s mom are multiple. For one, I actually just really like ghost stories /o\ But also, her memories haunts Toji like a ghost (much like Rika does Yuuta, in a way), and unlike some other famous ghosts, the Okiku from the story… doesn’t really cause harm ? She isn’t like Yotsuya Kaidan’s Oiwa, who tortured her murderous husband (good for her), or Botan Dōrō’s Otsuyu who led her lover to his death by pursuing a relationship after she had already passed away. She’s mostly just sad, and even when she isn’t and seeks revenge, she remains powerless outside of her cries, and her master can easily ignore her if he’s enough of an asshole.

Also, unlike the two aforementioned other ghosts, she is explicitly a servant, and that lower status fits really well with the way I built the character of Megumi’s mom. And, y’know, throwing a servant in a well because they broke a plate feels like a thing the Zen’in would do. Just saying.

“it would’ve been him the machikata would’ve blamed”

The machikata is uh. Basically the police. It’s more complicated than that, as technically the term “machikata” refers to an urban area, but patrol officers were called machikata-doshin (or mawarikata-doshin, depending on their specific jobs) and their direct superior was the machikata-yoriki, so it’s not uncommon to see the term “machikata” used as an almost synonym to the police.

Machibugyō (the governmental office overseeing the machikata, look I told you it was complicated) weren’t present in all cities, but only in what were called “shogunal cities” (as well as, obviously, Edo). The most complete list I could find includes : Kyoto, Osaka, Sumpu, Hakodate, Niigata, Sado, Nikkō, Kanagawa, Uraga, Shimoda, Yamada, Nara, Fushimi, Sakai, Hyōgo and Nagasaki. The number rose throughout the Tokugawa shogunate, up to 16.

So now you have a list of potential cities to imagine as the setting of this story. Except Hakodate. I am not touching Edo-era Hokkaido with a ten-foot pole.

See, this is why I decided not to choose one specific location ! I’d just never get anything done ! Can you imagine how long I’d spend trying to find a map from my chosen date (and I’d have to decide on a more specific date than “probably mid-late Tokugawa” because cities change over time) if I wanted to make sure everything fit ? For an incredibly niche fanfiction of Jump’s Latest Pretty Boys Fighting Manga ?

Conclusion, I should have gone for history instead of anthropology for my Masters sdfhgjkl

“Undoes his ponytail”

During the Edo era, the chonmage (a topknot with the top of the head shaven off), which was the hairstyle that used to be reserved for samurai, became in fashion among the common folk’s men as well. For male kids, the usual haircut was a shaven head with only a tuft of hair left at the top. Male teens, or wakashû, would have only the very top of their head shaven off, with the rest put into a topknot. A good comparison between teenage and adult hairstyles can be seen here.

Note that the age limits of each category can vary, and I’m honestly not sure how much of teenage-hood the lower classes actually lived through, since I’ve found in my research that samurai would sometimes delay the coming-of-age ceremony as much as possible (to the point that there had be a law put in place that you Would have to be an adult by your mid-twenties), and it’s easy for me to imagine the reverse happening as well. Haven’t found specific information about the way the lower classes went through the ages of life though, so idk

Anyway the point is that Yuuta’s hair is unusual. And also that he may or may not know how to do his hair like someone his age should.

(By the way, this won’t be mentioned in any of the parts, but Toji wears his hair kinda short, at chin length, without tying it at all. Which is like, not something a guy well-inserted in Edo society does.)

“belongings tied to his shoulders”

Here are some visual examples of how people carried their stuff around :

And here, the monk on the right is carrying a bundle the way Toji would be carrying his :

“If the brat ever calls him oniisan, Toji might just snap.”

I’m not saying Toji has the most unhealthy relationship with family a man could possibly have, but he is at the stage where a simple mention of potential blood-ties is enough to trigger his bad memories, even when that mention is just a polite way to call someone older than you, so uh. Y’know. Could be better.

This whole scene also has him calling the merchant “uncle”, which is just another polite way to call someone older, albeit when the age difference is bigger and/or when the person you’re talking to is at least middle-aged.

See, Toji can be polite when he wants ! Granted, it’s only when he has something to gain from it, but that’s something !

Tadayoshi and Sunao

I wanted to find Zen’in names that fit the naming pattern we’ve seen thus far, with the first kanji of the children matching with their father’s, and I have to say it uh. Took me a little while. Especially since I didn’t want it to be immediately obvious to the reader who exactly these two douchebags are supposed to be, so I looked for alternative readings of the first kanji and after like, an hour, finally found something I was satisfied with.

Anyway, Tadayoshi is written 直吉, and Sunao is 直男. The second kanji of their names are “luck” and “man” respectively.

And this concludes the commentary on this first part ! See y’all next time for more overly detailed discussion of history for the sake of some niche fanfiction, featuring swords, samurai, and plants (probably) !

#jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #rika orimoto #orimoto rika #yumi writes #manifesto commentary #i originally wanted this fic to be like #a way to get other folks into this dynamic #hence the 'manifesto'#but it might have ended up too niche for that #compels me tho #which is what matters in the end #jjk edo AU

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lesbiansanemi · 9 months

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*through gritted teeth* ppl can ship whatever they want and it’s fine it doesn’t affect you ppl can ship whatever they want and it’s fine it doesn’t affect you ppl can ship whatever they want and it’s fine it doesn’t affect you people can—

#I need to stop seeing douma/akaza stuff like. now.#I’ve tried okay I’ve tried to even mildly like it and nope #I can’t do it. I cannot do it whatsoever #I JUST DONT GET IT I DONT GET IT I DONT GET ITTTTTTTR #I know it’s my thing where I viscerally dislike ships that are based on two characters #who are on the same side but STILL fucking hate each other #because literally no matter what it just feels so weird and forced to me #like they are on the same side. they have similar morals already. if they were gonna like each other AT ALL… they would #but yeah no I’m hffjdjdksk I can’t do that one anymore #and it used to be such a rare pair so it was really easy to avoid and now I’m seeing A LOT more of it and it’s getting more difficult #and I dunno part of it is the idea of shipping douma with ANYONE #like I can’t stand him being shipped with shinobu kanae or kotoha either #his canon interactions with them have just tainted it sooooo much for me #and like yeah rocks at glass houses I’m aware I’m the enemies to lovers weirdo who ships characters who keep trying to kill each other #but mannnnnn something about the idea of shipping a guy who terrified a woman so wholly she threw her baby off a cliff because that was a #better alternative to him getting his hands on her child? yeeeeaaaaahhhhh… it’s not gonna be for me folks #it is NOT a kind of power dynamic I am gonna enjoy when it’s that particular angle #the context of their relationship cannot be that removed to me #it’s just one of my person nope. can’t fucking do it don’t fucking like it kinda makes my skin crawl things #which in a way is unfortunate #cuz I actually do enjoy douma as a character a lot and I can enjoy certain explorations of him #where he actually DOES learn to be in tune with his emotions again and learn to care for someone #but I rarely see it done well #and when I see ANY of that so called ‘development’ linked to any of these ships #it’s usually just akaza or Kotoha or shinobu getting over their hatred/fear of him in way too fast and highly unrealistic ways #while douma does very little to actually develop himself he just kinda is Automatically better because someone loved him back #(in a way that’s usually out of character for everyone involved lol)#esp when any of these ships are showcased in a REALLY cutesy way like again it’s just not for me #I don’t think I can ever really jive with it #oh well. I should just block some more tags I just needed to complain a bit first lol

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found--family · 11 months

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😪

#ugh. just wasted my whole morning reading a fic that promised to be better than it was #if the tags and summary and hits and kudos were anything to go bt #plush I've read a couple things by thia authors before but this one was the longest #and while the plot set up to go one way it went multiple other ways which was annoying #but it also had the worst canon side characters I've read in a while - beloved characters but #they were shoehorned into the narrative in ways that didn't suit age or dynamics let alone characterisation (ooc reads are the worst imho)#there seems to be plenty of folks who like this fic and to each their own #i just wish i hadn't held out hope that it would get better not worse.#it felt like a caricature. and now I'm wondering if I liked their shorter fics years ago but my tastes have changed #but their style also doesn't suit these long narratives.#y'know that feeling you get after reading a really well written fic? i wanted that feeling.#instead i was left feeling out of sorts and disappointed and irritated. ugh.#it's literally the perfect day for reading: a rainy cool winter day! after 95% sunshine this winter I'd just like to enjoy #proper winter weather the way its meant to be enjoyed: curled up with a good fic.#😪#thoughts

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.”

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?”

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door.

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega.

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know.

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door.

It’s going to be a long week.

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent.

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller.

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged.

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat.

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much.

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things.

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?”

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.”

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.”

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?”

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.”

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks.

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom.

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom.

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.”

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable.

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.”

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.”

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert.

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up.

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort.

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room.

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega.

Their omega.

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient.

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right.

Maybe they did need you after all.

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water.

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while.

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back.

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.”

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?”

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.”

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.”

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both.

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?”

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room.

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest.

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips.

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back.

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain.

You went into heat.

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark.

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over.

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs.

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears.

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week.

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort.

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this.

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence.

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?”

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb.

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.”

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure.

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.”

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks.

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.”

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.”

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done.

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.”

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all.

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him.

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.”

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could.

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks.

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again.

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks.

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame.

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days.

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?”

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.”

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall.

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw.

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside.

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.”

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent.

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases.

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through.

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in.

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-”

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.”

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.”

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible.

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh.

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.”

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still.

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-”

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face.

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.”

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it.

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta.

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.”

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees.

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha.

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.”

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it.

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s.

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks.

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole.

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass.

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.”

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.”

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either.

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before.

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets.

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again.

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again.

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.”

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.”

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank.

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again.

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further.

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.”

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise.

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.”

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more.

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!”

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is.

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!”

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done.

They’re both in for a long night.

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #x reader #captain price x reader #John price x reader #gaz x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #soap x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #Omegaverse

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punksocks · 5 months

Text

Lilith & His Femme Fatale (18+ Only)

**I tried to make this general but it’s about seduction, I couldn’t pull it lol (fr minors dni!)

*Just based on my observations, only take what resonates

Often Lilith in a man’s birth chart gives less information on him and more information on the type of woman that’s his femme fatale. The type of femme that gives this complex dynamic to the relationship. I would say, similarly to Plutonian influences, this sort of connection charged with such intensity tends to elicit the extreme reaction of either repelling him or making him at least a bit obsessed with finding a way to “obtain” the Lilith person in the relationship.

I think this is always related to Lilith’s folklore of being the untamable wife. He loves her because he can’t control her. But he still wants to try (not always but often imo). Not being able to control her and her seeming so wild and free is one of the many reasons the Lilith person usually brings out the shadow side of the masc person in their connection.

(I think everyone, men/women/enbys/etc, all tend to act out of feminine and masculine energies. The energies of giving and receiving. Action and reaction. Lilith usually throws some upheaval into this because as an untraditional feminine she embodies it all. She dominates whilst not taking any action. Lilith’s sort of chaotic energy throws a wrench in the binary imo. She’s feminine but the effect she has on and within others often puts her outside of the spectrum. I’m speaking about the effect on masculine folks because I believe Lilith pushes them into a power struggle mindset due to her effects and due to our society -and Lilith’s origins- being very patriarchal. With traditional feminine energies there is also a power struggle effect but it’s more like rooted in the feminine power. Like women usually have a default role of using subservience to their advantage- as much as they can- under patriarchy. So the tension with people embodying Lilith manifests in this tension of trying to make the Lilith people conform or outcasting them. There can be underlying s*xual dynamics to this but it usually works out differently/less directly than it does with masc folks.)

Anyway that’s why I believe men/masc people react in such a charged/obsessed way to Lilith energy and why I think it tends to result in this sort of femme fatale dynamic. Now let’s get into it !

-Lilith in Aries: For Lilith in Aries, he’d love an unstoppable woman. Like I noted before (in credit to @zeldasnotes ) this is a strong indicator of a man being a feminist (we love to see it). So this could also indicate a strong attraction to someone that’s in their power, that holds their own, and that is very independent and strong in their own right. He may find himself pushing back on this type of femme, but being impressed and compelled by her when she does take the lead (his mars could show how this dynamic would play out). (You may find yourselves vying for dominance in the connection)

-Lilith in Taurus: A hyperfeminine woman. Obviously, femininity looks different across cultures, but some traits that could show up here would be: a woman with curves, a killer hourglass figure that turns heads; a woman that seems luxurious and well dressed; a woman that feels soft and smells great. Essentially being a Venusian sign, Taurus in Lilith would be absolutely smitten by a beautiful woman that embodied all that soft feminine energy (and took his money lol) (speaking of which, could be a s*x worker or trophy wife type- someone that needs a lot of money/luxury to keep around)

-Lilith in Gemini: A thinker, a woman that outwits you. Someone that keeps you mentally stimulated by challenged your knowledge. Someone that will always make you guess. Very book smart, may be curious about the taboo. Someone that gets their kicks from debating you and testing your textbook knowledge. May also be smitten by dirty talk, talking about the taboo in their intimate time together.

-Lilith in Cancer: A nostalgic nurturer that makes you feel at ease. May embody the bad traits that make you feel especially vulnerable (like familiar toxic behavior). Lilith’ archetype is often an antithesis of cancer’s traditional influence of being the emotional nurturer, so we’d have to assume a bit of corruption here. Just as easily as you could be fueling toxic behavior I’d assume you’d just as easily receive it. So mascs can project onto you and desire to leech off of your nurturing energy.

-Lilith in Leo: A diva. The one that’s in the spotlight without trying at all. Like a burlesque dancer, beautiful and radiant and practically untouchable. Speaking of which they may be smitten with a femme known for her s*x appeal. Whether that’s from having a lot of past partners or being a model or being in s*x work depends on the situation. The Leo person would likely want exclusive access to you after they get their hands on you though (fixed placements can be very possessive, it’s a whole thing)

-Lilith in Virgo: someone with their life together. (I said what I said 👀). A sort of that girl as the kids say :0. She has a meal plan and a routine and a 5 year plan. I’d also wager that this placement is the most likely to have a thing for someone that has their shit so together that it makes the native feel less than. Someone that could shame them and make them feel flawed and insignificant at the drop of a hat (a hat? The hat? Ok). Also likely to be someone that is really subtle but quietly freaky. A good candidate for workplace affairs 🤷🏾‍♀️

-Lilith in Libra: a bombshell babe, a true beauty. Someone who embodies very classy energy. A popular girl, one that you sort of have to work to get the attention of. (A gorgeous femme that distracts others with how beautiful and effortless she is. Pinup material and just as untouchable. Trophy wife vibes but not as intense as Lilith in Taurus (unless this is a 2nd house placement 👀). Also someone that brings a lot of balance and beauty to their surroundings. (She may attract envy due to her looks as well)

-Lilith in Scorpio: S*x personified. Someone with that intense vibe (one of the most likely placements to attract Lilith heavy femmes). Someone that has a presence that holds a lot of power. And a lot of intimate experience or at least a fearless attitude about those taboos. Someone that makes him want to explore those fantasies as a knee jerk reaction (within reason ofc). Someone that can see right through him. Someone that they struggle to gain power over. (Also pretty likely to have a power imbalance or some sort of taboo attached to the dynamic)

-Lilith in Sagittarius: A traveler, a girl struck with wanderlust. Someone you get attached to even though she’s always out of reach. Someone who loves debating and adventure. A philosopher that never stops learning and daring you to broaden your horizons. May be someone from outside of your culture as well. Or someone with a religious background you find socially taboo.

-Lilith in Capricorn: Boss babe all the way. Someone that intimidates others easily and that works very hard. A social climber. A person that knows exactly what they’re after, in that go getter sort of way. Someone mature. Lady in the streets, freak in the sheets. Another possibly of meeting at work, or at least after some sort of public interaction. Another connection where both people are likely vying for dominance. Likely to have themes of restriction show up as well.

-Lilith in Aquarius: manic👏🏾 pixie 👏🏾dream👏🏾 girl👏🏾 (I’m dead*ss). The quirky girl that stands out from the crowd. One of kind in a rebellious way. The other side of fae energy, which is to say that she would be a detached trickster of sorts. Hard to predict, philosophically outside of your comfort zone, impossible to pin down, etc. Someone that forces you to think outside of the box- whether you like it or not. Could bring out the k*nkier side of you. Also pretty likely to bring out the nerdier side of you, for some reason. (Aquarius intelligence ??)

-Lilith in Pisces: fae bae, full stop. A girl like a daydream. Esoteric and ethereal. A person that may be a bit spacey but they’re off floating in space somewhere. Someone creative and subconsciously addictive. Someone that tends to appear in their dreams and tends to be on their minds a lot.

Further Notes:

-Air is most impressed upon by intelligence and uniqueness; water by an emotionally immersive and passionate connection; fire by passion and being dazzled by the person; earth by their material luxury, ambition, and physicality

-water and fire tend to become obsessive over s*xual connections the fastest imo, but it can really mentally affect air and earth placements (it’s that I’m not obsessed but they’re thinking about them all the time and doing god knows what about that 👀)

-fixed Lilith placements can make a masc person a bit more obsessive and possessive over the Lilith energy (especially if they have a fixed Venus/mars)

-Cardinal Lilith placements tend to like to be challenged over taking the lead/dominance in the connection, if underdeveloped they can be rather controlling to their partners as well

-When Lilith is close to a masc’s personal planets I’d say that he may have some sort of archetype/karmic lesson around Lilith heavy femmes (just a significant impact on his life and attitude)

-Houses can show how these energies connect (I wrote this up but the draft deleted itself and I just couldn’t lol 🙃)

#astro notes #spicy astrology #love astrology #lilith culture #lilith aspects #Lilith #lilith astrology #astroblr #astro blog #astrology #astroloji #astro observations #astro community

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bunny-yan · 1 year

Text

King!Yandere x GN!Reader

TW: non-con, death, victim blaming, patricide, nsfw, power dynamics, slight body worship

—

The King’s lover.

A position coveted by fools that didn’t understand what it was they were asking for.

You sat, eyes lost as you stroked the royal head of your beloved king. He was a respected ruler, loved by noble and common folk alike for his infinite wisdom. He was a wise king. A kind king loved by his people for his overwhelming generosity. A king you were sure no one understood quite as well as you.

Your king had not always been your king.

He’d been a prince once, though you had always been his servant. Your father served as a butler, it was only natural that you’d follow in his footsteps, but the young prince had taken a liking to the servant and you were granted an illustrious position as the prince’s companion.

It was nice.

You got to wear casual clothes, clothes you preferred over the servant’s uniform. You were able to eat snacks that you’d only seen in passing through bakery windows. There was no point in asking your father to try it because sweets were a luxury you couldn’t afford. But the prince spoiled you with sweets.

It was more than nice.

You got to play instead of cleaning the giant rooms in the palace. You were allowed to lounge, lazily relaxing if the prince was to focus on his swordsmanship or studies, your only duties being to make sure that the prince made it to his appointments on time and you were good at that. Sure, the prince could act like a bit of a brat. He’d refuse to go to his lessons unless you promised to play with him after or personally prepared his bath or kissed him on the cheek. The prince always wanted his way, but that was only natural.

He was a prince.

The oldest son of the current king. Everyone would serve him in the future so it only made sense that he got whatever he wanted now. You were the prince’s companion. A fancy title given to a servant that was meant to make sure the prince’s every whim and desire was met.

You didn’t mind.

The prince was kind. He’d ask you to accompany him on trips to the garden, often claiming that he’d fill it with your favorite flower when he was king. You would laugh, shaking your head as you told him there was no need to do such a thing for a servant, but he was determined. He would do it. He would do anything for you.

The prince was caring. Giving so much of his attention to a servant when it was your job to serve him. He didn’t ask for much from you, only that you were in his presence most days. Sure, it was boring to sit and watch the prince during his lectures or watch him study, but anything was better than scrubbing floors and dusting vases and windows. His asking for your continued accompaniment meant that you could escape manual labor and you’d always be grateful for that.

But the prince got angry. He didn’t like it when you talked to your “other friends.” The only friend you needed was him. You were his companion. There was no need to talk to the other servants. Even if it was to get his meals, you could simply ask a maid to do it. If it meant you talking to the others, he would relieve you of that duty. You only needed to focus on being by his side and taking care of his needs. Other people didn’t matter.

The prince was stubborn. It was hard explaining why communication was a necessary part of your duties if you were going to continue to serve him. It was also obvious that your words went in one ear and out the other, the prince refusing to listen to anything you said. The conversation was over after he gave the order. He wouldn’t argue semantics.

He wouldn’t argue at all.

You didn’t expect the prince to be forceful. The prince on top of you was not the same charming prince that you had grown up with. This prince was harsh, whispering cruel, vulgar words in your ear as he ripped the buttons off of your clothes. His hands touched you despite your pleas for him to stop, to come to his senses. He claimed he was sane. Even after violating you in ways you didn’t think he could. But you wanted it, right?

Because he was a prince.

His title, his status, his future. They were all things that shined like gold to a beggarly servant like you. How dare you speak ill of the prince?

You’d tried telling your father, but his hands were tied. He served the king, so his child would serve the prince.

But you didn’t want to.

Not when the prince would take every opportunity to trap you in his room, uncaring if his rough hands caused bruises as they forced themselves into your clothes. He’d order you to cease your useless struggles and get angry if you began to cry.

He didn’t understand why you were crying. He was the prince and you were his. His things couldn’t say no, so you have to want it. You wanted it, right?

The prince got scary when you said no. He threatened to hang one member of your household for every no that came out of your mouth. There was no point in crying about it. He would comfort you until he felt better.

The prince got really scary when you tried to run away. You hid in a carriage devoid of produce, hoping to escape from the palace and find a way in to town, but the prince noticed his companion’s suspicious behavior. Knights found you before you could exit the palace’s gates and you were dragged inside to kneel before the prince’s feet. He slapped you, calling you a deceitful little whore. The prince couldn’t understand why you were so desperate to get away from him, but your betrayal had been enough for him to make good on his promise.

The prince was good at keeping his promises. He forced you to look at the dangling bodies of your family, forcing your chin up when you were in front of your father.

“This is your fault.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your neck as you cried. He was rough with you that night. He didn’t care that you were still grieving, he wanted to make sure you understood who you belonged to. Forcing himself inside of you with little preparation, he growled, “You’re mine.” over and over again until you could hear his voice continue to haunt you in your dreams.

The prince was happy. His companion no longer shied away from his touch. You were so obedient and docile now. You’d listen to anything he told you to do. He liked holding you in his arms, kissing you, and seeing you next to him when he woke up in the morning. It was a little frustrating when he would have to order you to reciprocate his affections, but you were so good he didn’t really mind.

The prince’s father didn’t approve of your relationship. Anytime he saw the two of you together, he’d glare at you, making you feel small. His son didn’t understand the mood, deciding that he would hold you closer, uncaring about how others felt regarding your relationship.

The king approached you. Told you to separate yourself from his son. That he would take care of living arrangements outside of the kingdom’s jurisdiction. You didn’t care that he looked at you as if you were a nuisance. He was helping you escape!

The prince’s coronation came much sooner than you expected. Although the king had been young, they found him dead the next morning, assuming he’d passed away in his sleep. The prince attended his father’s funeral, but he didn’t look very upset. He was crowned in a ceremony directly after his father’s burial and your king gave you a smile that seemed ill-fitted considering the circumstances.

When he approached you later, you kneeled, giving your greetings to the head of the empire. He stroked your head, other hand reaching for his waist as he gave you your first order as king.

“Open your mouth.”

Your title had changed. You were the king’s lover. A concubine for the king’s pleasure until he saw fit to perform his duty and marry a queen, but you feared it was long time off from the way he worshiped your body like an obsessed madman night after night. Moaning in your ear about how beautiful you were. How precious your body was. How he’d kill anyone that thought of laying a finger on you or taking you away. You were his.

The prince kept his promise. The garden had been filled with your favorite flower. You often sat on the bench to find refuge in your luxurious prison, but he always found you. He was usually uncaring, but he became a bit more sensitive when you were here. He wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure of your company, but he kept his lustful urges at bay, opting instead to sit on the bench next to you to talk or lie his head in your lap on the days he lacked rest.

Looking at the king now, you wondered where your kind prince had gone. If you’d known he would turn into someone you couldn’t recognize, someone you began to impulsively avoid, you would’ve happily worn your servants clothes. Though a part of you felt that he would’ve been just as likely to tear them off of you.

Servant or companion, you were his.

#king #yandere king #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere king x servant reader

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loveemagicpeace · 2 months

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💕Life Events🌊

💕4th house represents how u live and your comfort & how you are used to living - Taurus in 4th house - means you are used to comfort, money, luxury and material things. Which means that you like a home that is luxurious, in which you feel safe and warm. It would be difficult for you to live with someone who would not give you comfort. You like to take time for the things you like and you really don't like it when people chase you or give you the feeling that you are limited by time. Especially if your moon is in Cancer, it's hard for you to be with someone who doesn't have that nature.

Aries in 4th house - you are most used to your home being fiery, warlike and often able to do things for yourself. U are very independet and maybe you will find your home faster. Aquarius in 4th house- u may always feel like outsider in your family. But at the same time you will feel that you want to live a very unique life. And you will feel comfortable only in an environment that will be very different from normal.

🌊Water moons are often nostalgic. Which means that in some way they will always be looking for something that reminds them of the past and memories. Many times they can live for memories and people in their memories.

🏝️Geminis & libras will always be subject to society. And sometimes it will be difficult for them to go outside of it. Especially libra , it is difficult for you to be something other than what society expects of you. Because you want to impress others and you want them to be happy. Both signs are strongly associated with relationships and communication.

✨Aquarius are the only sign that knows how to be something that others don't dare to be. They like to go outside their comfort zone and like to be different from the others, not many times they do something that is the opposite of what society does.

❤️‍🔥Sagittarius can easily talk about illegal things - it's not a taboo topic for them. They like discussions that are more dangerous or not so loud. They themselves are also very open to the world and other cultures and can quickly adapt to other surroundings. People with a lot of Sagittarius live a hectic life with lots of adventure and exploration. They usually move at least once, if not several times.

💛The situation of the Sun in the birthchart often relates to the individual’s experience of the father—not necessarily the actual father, but all the people who played that role. Often the mother will actually play the father role, in which case it is that relationship which will be symbolized by the Sun.

🍸The 6th house denotes sickness, your body , your relationship with the body, how you take care of your body. The 8th house surgery, death, needles, blood. The 12th house hospitalization, isolation from people, prison.

🦋Scoprio North Node- have the ability to "tune in" to the hidden thoughts of others. When they stand near someone, if they open up to receive that person's energy they will know his or her character and motives. They want to "fix" the other person—their way. They have many ideas about how to alleviate the other's pain and better the situation. These folks know how to create success. However, if they get a bad feeling or begin to lose energy, it's a warning. It’s important for these folks to pay attention to people's motives. They project that others operate from the same values and are always being honest. But when they take the time to study people's motives, they can tell what people pretend to be and what they really are.

🎸Fire is an emotional element, but it tends toward the more active and dynamic emotions—anger, joy, ebullience, and enthusiasm. It has a harder time dealing with sadness, depression, or the kind of feeling that comes from quiet contemplation of one’s surroundings. Fire people do not like to show sadness or grief: their typical response is to make fun of their own unhappiness.

🪐Symbol earth, signifies limits to our freedom (in which regard the element earth is related to the planet Saturn). We cannot do whatever we wish or go wherever we want because we are constrained by our own materiality and the materiality of the world around us. Earth is passive: it needs to be acted on and formed by an external energy. Virgo and Capricorn especially are inclined to sacrifice emotional needs when these come into conflict with their view of reality.

☁️Air is associated with thinking and logic, and as such it is less personal than fire.In this way air is similar to earth: both are primarily concerned with a reality external to the self. Fire and water are more concerned with personal, inward kinds of truth. Although air is very social, it is sometimes unable to handle real intimacy well. Libra is the only air sign in which the drive for close, personal relationships is strong, but even here there is a detached, non-intimate quality often obscured by the cleverness of the sign at being winning in social encounters.

🌙Water is the most yin of the four elements. And it is in some ways the most difficult to understand. The water people are poor at communication or unwilling to communicate. Because water represents non-linear, non-rational, non-discriminative modes of thought—the very antithesis of air. Water is the best at feeling relationships and the ways every thing interacts with every other thing. Often the best way for water to communicate is by means of art, especially poetry and music. Water people therefore have to live in a relatively clean psychic environment. If they are surrounded by disturbed people, water types will pick up the disturbance as if the energies originated within themselves. In this way, a water person can be made to feel physically and/or psychologically ill even when actually very well. More than any other element water is associated with the soul—the eternal, unchanging background that exists forever, against which the drama of individual life is played.

🌱Mercury creates smells, sounds, tastes, textures, and the like. In this way we are quite literally the creators of our own experience. All our knowing, experiencing, sensing, believing, or disbelieving is done through signs which represent actual facts, experiences, or entities in our minds.

🥊In a healthy body, Mars represents the vigor and vitality of movement, and especially the muscles. But it can also manifest as irritations, inflammations, infections, and fevers. Mars can be one of the principal significators of operations and accidents.

🫧Mars and Saturn rules over tattoos, needles, blood everything related to that. People who have dominant Mars sign or a lot of Mars energy/ aries energy or people who have Capricorn placements or Saturn energy are usually more more prone to have tattoos or piercings.

🎱The difference between Capricorn and Virgo is the Capricorn rules over success, image, public speaking everything that is related to public, but it's not related to appearance and how you look. Capricorns don't care how they look, but how their energy comes forward. Virgo on the other side rules over physical body so they are more prone to worry about how they look and how their clothes look like.

☂️Jupiter has also been associated with medicine and healing, the reintegration of the body after illness or prevention of bodily disintegration.

💍Juno is associated with marriage and partnership between the sexes. I find that, especially in women’s charts, it often indicates an ambivalence about whether to be associated with someone or to be free. In a man’s chart, it often describes the kind of marital partner he will choose.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🫧🌙☁️

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrological houses #astrology observations #life events

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descendant-of-truth · 1 year

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Honestly? So much of Sonic Prime happens the way it does because Sonic is unabashedly, wholeheartedly neurodivergent, and I wanna talk about that in detail for several reasons

I think most people assume he has ADHD, and while I agree, I think they tend to leave it at "he's hyperactive and impulsive" when there's actually a lot more going on there.

For example, he lacks a filter. He says exactly what he's thinking, all the time, regardless of who's listening. I wouldn't be surprised if he does it as a type of vocal stim, considering that he talks to himself as much as he does to other people. Maybe he dislikes the way silence feels on his ears, too?

Something I noticed was that when Thorn gets on his case for this, asking if he ever stops talking, the way he says "eh, not really" sounds... almost resigned?

He could have easily said it in a more jokey way, but his tone (and the wide camera shot) gives me the impression that this isn't a trait of his that he feels especially positive about.

It's not cool or funny to him, at least not in this instance; it's just something he does, which further proves to me that it's more of an unconscious stim than anything else.

On the topic of the jungle world though, it also shows us a couple instances of him not being able to read others' intentions very well. Prim lies to him about knowing what the Prism shard is, and Thorn uses him to get to said shard - and despite how hostile they are, he takes both of them at their word.

He only realizes Thorn's intentions after she hits him across the clearing - not for the first time that day, mind you - and Sonic berates himself a little for not seeing this coming.

But it's not like this is the only time he has difficulty understanding intent; just look at his interactions with Shadow.

This is not the behavior of someone who understands why Shadow's picking a fight with him. He doesn't understand the implications of "you literally shook the world" because he doesn't know about the Weirder aspects of the explosion. In his mind, he just messed up a mountain.

Though I think his attitude implies another thing about his dynamic with Shadow that might explain why he was so quick to dismiss what he was talking about, which is. I don't think Sonic usually understands why they fight??

Shadow is a person of few words and Sonic has a hard time picking up on subtleties, that's a recipe for miscommunication already. And if Sonic's already predisposed to thinking that Shadow fights him Just Because, then of course he didn't take this particular instance seriously.

Though going back to "he only registered the physical effect of the explosion," Sonic is actually pretty consistent with understanding things that are tangible a lot better than anything else. Case in point: that One Palm Tree

His first reaction to seeing it presented as a gift is that it must be a trick. because he doesn't see the tangible point of the tree, and isn't enough of a symbolism guy to see the sentimental point of it, either.

Don't get me wrong, he is being insensitive here, but I don't think it's on purpose in any way. Look at his body language and expressions:

Even as he's getting on their case for being too sentimental, he's not unhappy or uncomfortable with them. He's just completely failing to recognize that this was supposed to be a big deal for them, so he's treating it way more casually than is appropriate.

Which is like. a classic social flub for neurodivergent folks

(Quick side note - this specific "huh" that he makes as Tails is flying away before Sonic realizes he's upset is a whole mood. I don't know how to explain it but this is Exactly what it feels like when you can sorta tell something's not clicking but you don't know what yet)

(Look at him. brain static)

I could go on with the detailed explanations but some of that would just be me repeating past posts I've made, so I'll leave it at "he is clearly not handling change well either" and link back to an example.

So anyway, this is what I meant when I said that so much of the show is impacted by Sonic being neurodivergent. It affects how we hear his thoughts as viewers, it affects his ability to understand and connect with his friends, it's why he dismisses Shadow, it's why he impulsively smashes the Paradox Prism, the list goes on.

And he's not stupid because of any of these traits, either. None of what I've described has to do with intelligence, but I've seen "Sonic is too dumb" as a reason to criticize the show, and that's just not what's happening here.

If anything, I'm actually really impressed with how well the writers have managed to portray a more nuanced take on what a character with ADHD would look like. Because he's not just being hyperactive and chatty, you can tell it affects how he perceives things too.

Which is a much bigger part of the overall experience, and it's really cool to see in a cartoon like this - and in the lovable main character, to boot! Who cherishes his friends despite his struggles to understand them! Why is it so good!

In conclusion Sonic is the ADHD king we both needed and deserved, thanks for coming to my TED talk

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #analysis #meta #He might also have autism because there's a lot of overlap there #I mostly just went with ADHD because it seems to be the consensus #and it takes too long to specify that it could be either or both in the main post

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sprout-fics · 10 months

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I keep thinking about the way people write Ghost as a Dom.

There’s a tendency in the x reader part of this fandom to write CoD men as very dominant, kinky, rough, degrading kind of personas. I like the idea of a dominant character about as much as the next smut writer, but I’ve noticed a tendency for folks to really lean into this, and make characters (mostly Ghost) almost malicious in his sex acts. It sits wrong with me because Simon is a victim of some pretty horrific sexual assault in his original comics, and also someone we see who has compassion and tries extremely hard to distance himself from his traumatic past.

However, I also feel like there is a way for Ghost to be involved in dominancy and kink without it being completely antithetical to his character. This is my personal interpretation, trying to closely keep in mind Simon’s past, and you are free to disagree with it. However I think the idea of Simon finding kink/dominancy as a way of reclaiming his sexuality after his trauma is deeply fascinating, and worth exploring.

(TW: Discussions of consent violation and sexual trauma)

Ghost experienced sexual assault in his comics tied to the original series, for those of you who may not know. I’ll spare the details, as I’ve been over this several times before. Like many sexual assault survivors, he has nightmares from his time being tortured. It’s pretty easy to conclude from this that Simon has a complicated relationship with sex. I adore soft Simon, I think the pieces of Simon getting emotional during very tender sex are some of my favorites. I also think there’s layers to character interpretation.

It’s not uncommon for survivors of trauma, sexual or otherwise, to try and use kink as an emotional and physical outlet to work through severe emotions. Kink offers a safe, controlled context for sexual trauma survivors to reclaim sexual confidence and comfort. While sexual trauma like assault is a non-consensual seizure of power and dominance, power exchange in a safe, kinky setting can be a consensual, healthy practice to reframe sexual trauma. Kink centers and emphasizes communication and consent which are vital tenets of any healthy sex. (Source)

For Simon, what happened to him was a complete lack of control which led to physical, emotional, and psychological harm. So, for me, it makes complete sense he would approach kink/BDSM practices through the lens of dominance, where the exchange is focused on retaining control rather than the surrender of control. Personally, I think Simon would be very very hard pressed to ever be a sub, and would only consider it with someone who he trusts with not just his life, but his mental well-being, which for him is a very challenging task.

The idea of Simon being involved in kink related dominancy (Side note, there’s is a difference between someone saying they like to be dominant in bed vs identifying as a ‘Dom’, which I see many many writers make the mistake of) can, to me, be seen as a safe way to explore sex following the events in the comics. Responsible Doms hold consent sacred, and know that partners invest a significant amount of trust in them to keep them safe during kink related activities, sexual or otherwise. It isn’t uncommon for BDSM dynamics to form ‘contracts’ that outline things that are completely off the table. Safewords are an absolute must, and must be respected at all times.

Note: Dominancy =/= Rough, degrading, hair pulling sex. Dominancy can be deeply psychological, in learning your partner’s mannerisms, wants, desires, and most importantly their triggers.

There’s often very definitively laid out boundaries between partners, and it goes both ways. Ex: you may not like being called degrading names. For Simon (In my personal opinion) I think this involves a refusal to bottom, being restrained, and other things that may invoke triggers related to his trauma. A lot of concepts revolving around BDSM ( (SSC) Safe, Sane, Consensual / (RACK) Risk-Aware Sexual Kink) emphasize and hold accountability for both partners to communicate clearly with each other and respect these clearly set boundaries while being aware of the acts they are involved in.

I think this sense of rules, consent, guidelines, contracts, and boundaries of how to participate in kink is fairly relieving for Simon. It provides a clear framework of how to approach his partners and ensure both their safety and his own. I feel like Simon is very hesitant about the idea of dominance, because he often fears perpetuating behaviors his abusers committed against him. So this covenant of etiquette towards partners provides a much needed structure for him to work in. If he’s a man of routine (which personally, I like to think so. He’s in the military, which tends to do that to you) and it is deeply relieving for him, because it acts almost like a boundary that prevents him from abusing his partners. So Simon doing research into BDSM/Kink etiquette is totally feasible in my mind, especially when we take into a concept of him using largely agreed upon guidelines and suggestions to allow him space to reclaim his sexuality without it turning into a victim to abuser scenario. (There’s also room to be explored regarding Ghost and protocol based BDSM dynamics within this same vein, but that’s a different essay)

(Another side note: It is easy for abusers to take advantage of victims by concealing themself behind being a Dom. However, this is why concepts such as contracts, SSC, and RACK exist, to help mitigate instances of this. If you are interested in these types of dynamics, please please do some responsible research to know how to spot people like this)

There’s a lot of nuance to this idea. However, I have seen some AMAZING fics explore this concept of Simon being a responsible Dom while also keeping in mind he is a deeply complicated person with a complex history. Simon’s sexual assault does not define his character, but it is an important facet to it considering that the trauma of his torture formed him into the character we are introduced to- a man who burned his past but continues to carry it with him in the form of a mask designed to separate himself from others.

Here’s some fic recs that explore or touch on this topic, thanks for reading:

Surviving You - WhisperedWords12: SoapGhost BDSM AU that provides a great understanding of consensual dynamics, contracts, consent, subdrop/domdrop, and touches on how irresponsible dominant partners can leave lasting, scarring impressions on their partners

Exfilitration - Vedettare: Similar concept in that Ghost assists Soap through subdrop, and realizes he may be poorly handling the way he engages in his and Soap’s dynamic, which he tries to rectify (Ongoing)

Mine and Yours - Artemis_Neardos: Again, SoapGhost, simultaneously explores Ghost as a Dom as well as his relationship with his trauma, and does a very good job doing so. Bonus: Dom/Sub AleRudy. This series involves under negotiated kink at the beginning, which improves later. Mind the tags

Disclaimer: I am not an expert in this area. I am relaying things I have learned. I encourage you, if you are interested, to do your own research and read critically the things that are available to you. Never engage with partners who do not respect your consent

#simon ghost riley #simon 'ghost' riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw2022

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧’, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’

It was only meant to be a visit — to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ༄ 5.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ༄ Fluff, aftercare ჻჻჻ SMUT: Oral (F + M receiving), fingering, protected piv, mutiple orgasms, denied orgasm, dom/sub/switch dynamics ჻჻჻ KINKS: Dirty talk, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degredation, dumbification, objectification

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ༄ Look at those warnings, huh? Yeah, have fun folks. ✌ ༄ A very special thank you to my love, @duckybarnes1917's for your help and encouragement when I pitched this idea to you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ༄ Eat Your Young by Hozier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ༄ @sgt-seabass

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ༄ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟰 — First Responder AU — Masterlist

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been only a few days since that encounter at the station.

Embers had settled like lead weights in your stomach, lighting up your nerves with a mere spark – more often than not it was their text tone, or the sound of their honeyed voices on a call that was the culprit and soul cause, and the bastards knew it, too.

Very little deliberation was needed to come to your decision. An inane part of you, perhaps closer to the surface than you cared to admit, nor acknowledge, wanted this. You wanted to be a part of what they were, you wanted to feel the warmth of the love they could give, and… many other things.

Before that thought could dig its claws too deep, the open roller doors of the station came into view, and you took a deep breath as you walked up the driveway. Steve and Bucky had asked you to pop in for a visit, and they had offered to take you home when their shift ended – naturally, you had been apprehensive about just whose home you’d be returning to.

“There she is!” Steve called, making his way down the driveway with Bucky peeking around the doorway with a bright smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Steve said, glancing you up and down – and the action didn’t leave your skin crawling as you had felt all too many times before with other men, rather, you felt shy. “How’re you doing?”

“Good– I’m good, Stevie,” you replied, happily accepting his hug.

“Hey! Nuh-uh,” Bucky rushed, jogging over, a full pout on his lips. “My turn.” Steve laughed and let you go, only for you to be swept into Bucky’s arms and off your feet. “She’s mine now, punk,” Bucky called, carrying you as he stalked into the station, ignorant of your breathless laugh and pleas to be let down. “Shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Let me down, Buck,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder with your hand and holding around the back of his neck for dear life with the other. “Please!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky soothed, and he set you gently down on your feet. “There you go. Now, we’re cutting our shift short because Nat and Peter were gracious enough to come in an hour early.”

“Bless ‘em,” Steve cut in. “So, we can head home, decompress and relax, y’know.” The not-so-subtle wink and sly smirk gracing Steve’s handsome features only caused the inferno to ignite.

Before you could reply, Bucky shoved him towards the locker room. “Get a move on then.”

Steve left with a salute and that left Bucky and you standing beside a parked fire truck. You went to open your mouth to speak, but a quiet yipping noise stalled the cogs in your mind, and you stared at Bucky with wide eyes. “Was that a dog?”

The sheepish shrug and shy smile that grew on his lips made him look so much younger – a boy caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah… surprise?”

“You have a dog?”

Bucky went to open his mouth when the door leading to the office opened abruptly, and Peter appeared. “Oh, hey! It’s good to see you- whoa!”

You watched in awe as Peter stumbled, pushed to the side by two fast blurs darting out from behind his feet. They were small, but fast and over excited, the exact embodiment of what a puppy–puppies, would be. “You have puppies!”

“Yeah, yeah- Captain, no! Sit,” Bucky commanded, and you watched as the most excited of the two fell back from scrambling up your knees to his back legs in a perfect, fluid movement. You crouched down to be level with the two black and white – Dalmatian – puppies, cooing at them quietly. The smaller and calmer of the two stared up at you through bright blue eyes curiously, a slight tilt to their head.

“Who are these precious babies?” You asked, offering a hand to them so they could sniff. “They’re adorable.”

Bucky groaned as he kneeled down. “‘M gettin’ too old for this shit,” he joked, and you chuckled.

“You’re ageing like a fine wine, Buck,” you replied before you thought better of it, and your eyes widened. Shit, you silently cursed.

“Why thank you, honey,” Bucky purred. Fuck. “Anyway,” he continued, pointing at the larger of the two puppies. “This is Captain, he’s Stevie’s boy.” You cooed at Captain and he whined quietly, wiggling with excitement. “And this,” Bucky pointed at the smaller puppy, a soft smile on his lips and eyes bright with love, “is Cleo. She’s my little girl.”

“I love them so much,” you gushed, not realising how Bucky’s gaze that held so much adoration and softness for his little Cleo, to you. “How old are they?”

“Old enough to be terrors,” Steve said above you and you jumped. “We goin’ home?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, getting to his feet with a huff. “You ready, doll?”

You nodded and scratched behind Captain and Cleo’s ears. “Do they stay here, or-”

“No,” Steve laughed, smiling fondly down at the two puppies. “C’mon guys, home time.” Like a scene from a Disney movie, the two bounding balls of energy ran after Steve as he walked out of the station, presumably towards their car.

The jingling of keys pulled you from the sight of Steve’s broad back and you looked over at Bucky to see him already staring at you, a brow raised and an arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. “Quit ooglin’ my husband, honey,” he said, his voice low. “A fella might get the idea you want him more.”

You had the sense to roll your eyes at his dramatic ways, and he laughed as he slung an arm over your shoulder. His grin was contagious and you couldn’t help but mimic it as he walked you out the door, pointing the set of keys to a huge pick-up truck. “Let’s go home, hey?”

The drive home was sat in comfortable silence, interrupted by bouts of banter and the barking yips of overexcited puppies. Before long, Bucky pulled the truck into the driveway of a modest home reminiscent of a brownstone flat – the yard was small but tidy, and there was a two-car garage attached to the side.

“Alright,” Steve said around a yawn. The puppies in his lap shifted and whined restlessly. “Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

Bucky made a small noise of contentment and slid out the driver's seat, while you shifted and followed Steve off the bench seat and out the passenger door. The puppies ran onto the yard and jumped over one another, making you giggle at their antics.

You could hear Bucky moving around the front of the truck and you went to look over your shoulder at him, only to jump and gasp in fright as Steve’s hand – callused and warm, grabbed your own and threaded his fingers through yours. “Easy, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, tightening his grip. “C’mon, come inside.”

With little choice, but with no hesitation, you followed Steve as he followed Bucky to the front door of their home. “Captain, Cleo– here,” Bucky called, and the two puppies ran between the gaps and through the doorway. “Bring our girl in, punk,” Bucky goaded, watching Steve as he stood in the doorway, still holding your hand and staring at you with an unreadable expression – Bucky’s voice seemed to wake him from his trance and he pulled you inside.

The fact that Bucky moved to stand right behind you as soon as you walked through the threshold of their home, sent a chill of something up your spine and that pit of embers to become a sparking heap again.

“D’you want something to drink, darlin’?” Steve asked. The endearment made your eyes widen only slightly and you recovered just in time to ask for some water – just.

Captain and Cleo moved to settle on a giant dog bed in the living room beside the open doorway, and Bucky put a hand on your lower back, urging you forward into the cosy room and towards a couch. “Make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, taking a seat between three giant pillows. Opting for comfort in this new environment and in the presence of these two Gods among men, you grabbed one and leant it on your knees, hugging it to your chest.

You watched as Bucky toed off his boots and slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, only he caught you staring and he smirked. “You’re so adorable, honey,” Bucky cooed and you felt hot, the cinders in your stomach igniting into a dull roar. “‘M gonna go get changed, Stevie will be with you in just a second, alright?”

As if Bucky had summoned him, Steve appeared around the corner, wearing sweats and a white tank top with a glass of water in one hand, a mug filled with a steaming liquid in the other. Steve and Bucky smiled at one another, and you watched with your mouth slightly agape as Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck roughly and pulled him into a kiss – holy fucking shit, you cursed.

The visual was burnt into your eyelids and you took a deep breath just as they pulled apart, and Bucky departed – though not before he smacked Steve on the ass, the latter only rolling his eyes in response.

“Here you go,” Steve said, offering you the glass of water before falling onto the couch next to you. He groaned loudly and threw his head back over the back of the couch and shuffled his legs so his thighs were spread, and you couldn’t resist the urge to stare at the way his muscles moved and pulled taut to show off that damned jawline. “You stare any longer, sweetheart, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Dammit, you swore. So much for subtlety.

More to distract yourself, you took a gulp of water and placed the cup down on a coaster on the coffee table. A low huff and whine came from the dog bed next to the couch and you looked over to see Cleo already staring at you sleepily. “Such an adorable baby girl,” you cooed.

“Nope, that’s you, honey,” Bucky said suddenly and you almost squeaked – thankfully you killed the noise in your throat before you could embarrass yourself further. “I know we talk every day at this point,” he continued, flopping down on your other side, and tucking his knee up under his other thigh so he could face you. “But how are you–how have you been feeling?”

It was difficult to discern just what he was asking – was he asking about how you felt about them? About the risque and teasing texts and calls you had more often than not initiated?

“Don’t stress that pretty head of yours, honey, I meant exactly what I asked,” Bucky said quietly, and you felt Steve shift next to you, his interest obviously piqued. “How are you doing? Work, all that shit.”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved. “I’ve been good, work has been busy–but I’ve been good.”

“We know,” Steve purred, his breath suddenly very hot against your neck. “Because you’re our good girl, aren’t you?”

You blanched. “What the-”

Their laughter broke the tension – deep belly laughs and wide grins, though when you looked at Steve, his grin had something else teasing, wolfish, and you found you liked it.

“I would say I’m sorry,” Steve tried, grinning and flicking his gaze between Bucky and your deer-in-headlights-esque shock. “But I’m really not.”

“You fuckin’ menace, Stevie,” Bucky chuckled. “Leave ‘er alone!”

“What the hell was that?” You demanded, a grin teasing your own lips. In no way were you mad, though you were shocked with the visceral reaction to those simple words had on you – you knew you liked it, but that much?

You were doomed.

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Steve sighed, still grinning, though he eyed you like a wolf who had cornered his prey. The air became thin and you felt Bucky shifting closer – the tension in the room crescendoed and your breath hitched as they fell silent, the heat of their combined gazes almost too much to bear.

“Sweetheart,” Steve started, his voice low, tentative; an unspoken hesitance. “We brought you home to get to know you, and we are going to get to know you, just as you would get to know us, but,” he leant forward and time stopped – Steve was in your space, unyielding and determined to be heard. “Do you want this?”

“This?” You echoed breathlessly, only to end on a gasp when Bucky’s hand moved to your neck – no pressure exerted, no sense of danger, but a promise and an intention that stole your breath completely. You could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing soothingly against the side of your neck, but it only sent your head spinning.

Damn him for listening when you let slip you had enjoyed the thought of his or Steve’s hand around your throat.

“Listen to Stevie, honey,” Bucky said, his tone firm and insistent.

“You call the shots here,” Steve continued, though his gaze flickered from Bucky’s hand to your face. “But, to be honest, I want this–so does Buck, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Bucky growled. “What d’you say, doll?”

Blood pounded in your ears and you gulped, the movement against his hand made Bucky exhale heavily. “Yeah–Yeah I want this, I want it-”

“You tell us to stop if you need us to,” Steve commanded, watching only you and you met his gaze. “Understood?”

“Understood,” you answered.

The wolves pounced. Bucky tightened his grip on the sides of your neck while his other hand went to your hair, gripping it and pulling gently so your face was tilted up, where Steve claimed your mouth – his kiss was surprisingly soft, gentle from what you had expected.

“Bedroom, now,” Bucky rasped, and Steve pulled back, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Steve growled, his voice just as raspy as Bucky’s – like your admission and want for this had turned them feral. They pulled you to your feet and you gasped with the rush. “Jump, darlin’,” Steve demanded, and hazy as you felt, you did as you were told; only for the ground to become suddenly very far away. “Atta girl.”

Steve was carrying you – he was carrying you, and Bucky’s hand was insistently groping at Steve’s ass as he carried you down a hallway. “How are you-”

“Firefighter, honey,” Bucky drawled while he kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot. Steve placed you gently down on the bed and stood up, and when Steve moved to shuck down his sweats, Bucky whined, his hands flying forward and gripping Steve’s shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss – teeth and tongue clashing like they were going to consume one another.

Bucky pulled back only far enough to pull down Steve’s sweats, boxers included. “Mine, don’t do my job, Stevie- Fuck,” Bucky breathed, rushing to literally tear at Steve’s tank top with ease.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, and the two turned their heads to look at you – Steve’s expression heightened with a smug smirk, while Bucky looked at you through hooded eyes and a wolfish grin.

“She’s pretty, ain’t she, Stevie?” Bucky said through his teeth, his gaze flashing dangerously. “I wan’ her.”

“Go to her, baby,” Steve ordered. The tone sent your stomach into a fit and the inferno spread like wildfire through your every last nerve – the intensity sending a rush of vertigo and you found yourself reaching out, desperate to touch. “Go on, you don’t stop until she comes, understood?”

Heaven above, you wondered if you could come alone from those words.

“C’mere,” Bucky said, pulling you to your feet. With just as much ease as he had torn–undressed Steve, Bucky left you standing bare for only a solitary second before he pulled you onto the bed with a low, rumbling growl. The pillows were soft under your head and you sighed happily as Bucky settled his boxer-clad hips between your spread thighs. “You alright, honey?”

“I’m great,” you grinned, and Bucky laughed before he surged forward, marking the column of your throat with expert precision until your eyes fluttered closed. “Bucky, please-”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Steve asked, hovering by the head of the bed before he reached over and fisted Bucky’s hair, pulling back harshly. The moan that left Bucky’s lips made your breath stutter. “What do you want? Tell us.”

Bucky moved and tilted his head down, and whether it was a help or a hindrance, his clothed cock rubbed insistently against your clit and you moaned. “Be a good girl for us, honey,” he whispered, and he dropped to his elbows, caging you against him.

“Please, please, I- I need to-”

“You want to come, is that it, darlin’?” Steve pondered. His gaze suddenly pinned Bucky in place, a realisation behind his flickered aggression. “Buck, baby, you didn’t do as you were told.”

Bucky froze before he lowered his head against your neck, mouthing at it while moving his hips against your heat torturously slow. “‘M gettin’ to it, Stevie,” he replied, his breath hot against your neck and suddenly, he started sucking in earnest – the sharp, intense feeling forcing a choked moan from you.

“Get to it faster, then,” Steve admonished. You could sense the eye roll Bucky hid by the curtain of his hair, but he still moved down your body, mouthing at your skin and leaving a trail of heat that culminated between your hips – unbearably so.

You watched, your breath hitching, while Bucky moved your legs either side of his head so your thighs rested on his broad, muscled, and tattooed shoulders. “Oh, god-” You tried, only for your breath to stutter and falter at the first broad lick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit. “Fuck!”

“Go on, baby,” Steve muttered, watching Bucky as he nestled closer. “Fuck her with your tongue.”

The feeling was indescribable – the pull of Bucky’s mouth and the warmth and pressure of his tongue insistently drawing patterns just as pretty as his tattoos on your clit, only to stop and move his tongue down, paying attention to your weeping cunt. You couldn’t hear his groans and moans over the roaring in your ears, though you were grounded by the soft brush of Steve’s fingers down your neck and over your shoulder.

It was short lived.

As Bucky forced his tongue to do as Steve had ordered, Steve lowered his head to suckle at a breast, his hand coming to cup your other breast and flick the hardened nub until you whimpered.

The bed began to squeak and rock and you lifted your head to see Bucky’s hips thrusting desperately against the edge. “Baby, no, you come when she does,” Steve cut in, his tone snappish and commanding. You could have sworn you felt Bucky’s whine through your entire body with how he had sucked your clit into his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve purred, turning to look at you. A harsh suck from Bucky forced a hiccuped moan from your lips and you whined, fisting your hands in Bucky’s hair. “He’s makin’ you feel good, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- Ah!”

“Oh, sweetheart, lookatchu,” Steve continued, ignorant of your heaving breaths and inability to hear nor compute a damn thing except for the fact Bucky was swirling and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

“Bucky! Oh, fuck- Fuck!” You cried, startling at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers burying themselves deep in your cunt. “Please!”

Your pleading only spurred Bucky on, and you watched through blurred vision as Steve grinned wickedly, his gaze focused on Bucky's head shaking side to side. “You’re fuckin’ her real good, baby,” Steve breathed, and his gaze snapped towards your pleading expression. “Oh, you’re close, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah!” You cried. “Steve, Steve please-”

“Bucky, baby,” Steve said, still looking at you and you did your best to stare back, to hold his gaze. “Be a good boy for me and make her come, she wants to be your good girl.”

Fire burst through every nerve and your back arched to the ceiling, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Bucky still did not stop. “That’s it, good girl, there’s a good girl- Fuck,” Steve breathed. Waves and waves of sensations crashed against you, pulling you under, with every brush of Bucky’s fingers and tongue and every suck of his lips. He followed you as you writhed on the bed, drawing out every last second of your climax.

Bucky finally pulled back from between your thighs for breath, his chest heaving while your slick covered his lips and chin. The impish grin that split his face made you twitch and whine breathlessly, though it didn’t deter him from launching up onto the bed to claim your lips in a heated kiss.

“Baby,” Steve rushed, pulling Bucky off you and ignoring his grunt of protest. “Lie back, baby, I want your dick in my mouth.”

The promise made Bucky move almost comically quick and he rested his back against the bed head, thighs spread. “Catch your breath, honey,” Bucky whispered as Steve moved to settle between Bucky’s thighs. “We’re not done with you.”

You watched in daze as Steve pulled Bucky’s boxers down, and you revelled in the groan of pleasure that escaped Bucky as Steve swallowed him to the hilt with no preamble. “Stevie, fuck,” Bucky gasped, fisting Steve’s blond hair and holding him in place. “‘M not gonna last long, baby, fuck.”

A rush of energy pulsed through you and you got to your knees, wobbling only slightly. Bucky watched you through hooded eyes, reaching a hand out and you took it, falling against his side and pulling him into a heated kiss – swallowing his moans and cries. You hissed against his lips as his hand wandered down your back to cup and grope at the globes of your ass – his hands rough but warm.

Bucky’s hips jerked up violently and he cried out, his stomach flexing and you watched in awe as Steve worked faster. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, don’t you dare stop- Fuck!”

“Bucky,” you simpered and his gaze snapped to you – his once bright eyes blackened and eclipsed, so fucking far gone, you mused silently. “Come for me, handsome, c’mon.”

The loud shout that echoed off the walls made you grin dazedly, triumphant at wrecking the man before you like he did you. You watched as Bucky twitched and moaned, writhing weakly against Steve’s incessant sucking, his cheeks still hollowed. “Stevie- please, I can’t,” Bucky gasped, sagging in relief when Steve finally pulled off, grinning that same wicked smile.

That same smile he turned on you. “My turn.”

“Wha-” You tried, though your attempt at being coherent was marred by the fact Bucky had manhandled you into his lap, locking you in place by trapping your arms by your sides and forcing your legs open and keeping them there with his feet. The heat billowing from Bucky burned against your skin, and you wriggled, whining from the feel of his still hard cock resting against your lower back.

“Shh, honey,” Bucky cooed, resting his chin against your shoulder. Despite the rush you found your breathing slowing at his soothing tone. “I’ve gotchu, and Stevie’s gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your own fuckin’ name, how ‘bout that?”

“Fuck,” you croaked, shivering in his hold. You could feel your cunt clench around nothing and you began to pant, as desperate to get air as you were to finally be filled with Steve’s cock.

“She’s so pretty like this, Buck, fuckin’ hell,” Steve rambled, rooting through a bedside draw before pulling free a foil packet. “Touch her for me.”

“Oh-” You shuddered, your legs jerking against Bucky’s hold as his hand wandered down your stomach.

“Be good for me, honey, my sweet doll, huh?” Bucky breathed and you whimpered. The feel of his fingers trailing so close caused goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingers, right until they settled between your folds and circled your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve breathed, stopping his rush to just watch. “Speed it up, I think she can come once more– what d’you think, sweetheart?”

“I can’t-”

“You can,” Bucky replied. “Stevie wants to watch you come undone again, and like the good girl you are-” As he spoke, his fingers picked up their speed and you heaved for breath against the onslaught of sensation. “-You’re gonna put on a show for ‘im, aren’t you?”

“Ye-Yeah, ah! I am, I- oh,” you gasped, and with your arms trapped you could only scramble to hold Bucky’s hips, the pillows, the sheets – something, anything to ground yourself.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Steve called, though he sounded underwater – muffled and so far away. “Let go, let go for us.”

You screamed to the ceiling, shaking violently through your second climax that cleaved you like a whip, and Bucky was the only thing holding you together.

“Fuck, if she looks as pretty as she does without our cocks filling her, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled into your hair, soothing the aftershocks with gentle kisses against your temple. “Imagine how she’d look while you’re gonna fuck her.”

Steve groaned loudly in response. “Move, Buck, I need-”

You whined as Bucky slowly lowered you down his front so your hips were canted forward, and your shoulders rested against his middle, just above his stomach. “There you go, doll, easy,” he soothed, pulling your slumped head back against his chest. “You with us, honey?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice hoarse, but you grinned dopily up at them. “Don’ stop, more-”

They laughed heartily – the rumbling in Bucky’s chest soothing something deep in your mind. It was hard to form any string of thought, coherent or not.

“You’re just so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, and you whined, chasing his lips. “No, I wanna watch you.”

If Bucky hadn’t kept hold of you, you could have sworn you had started to ascend – the stretch of Steve’s cock burned, the pain exactly what you had wanted, and you moaned loudly. “That’s it, honey,” Bucky cooed, moving a hand to squeeze your breast. “Takin’ Stevie so well, fuck.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned, bottoming out in your cunt and stilling. The small twitches against your walls made you whimper, though you grinned wickedly up at him, watching his bowed head until he met your gaze. “Sweetheart, what are- Shit!”

You chuckled weakly and you felt Bucky move behind you, his lips nipping at the side of your neck. “You tryin’ to make him come, huh, kitten?”

The name pulled a moan from your lips and Steve gasped, your cunt squeezing him like a vice – the once steady rhythm you had pulsing around him thrown out.

“Do that again, Buck,” Steve breathed. “She’s fuckin’ squeezing me.”

“Aw,” Bucky cooed, and you groaned when Steve started to move – far too fucking slowly. “You want Stevie to fuck you senseless? You want Steve to squirm?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied quietly.

“She’s too fucked out to form words, baby,” Bucky said to Steve, his tone biting and just the perfect amount of mockery. “I want you to fuck her– fuck her just how you want, go on.”

“Not funny, Buck,” Steve gritted out before he thrusted hard enough to jolt you up Bucky’s chest. It was like you weren’t there – a toy for them to use to rile one another up, and you fucking loved it.

“Oh, it is,” Bucky continued, shifting slightly so he could attack the other side of your neck. Your whimpers and moans were completely ignored while Steve thrusted shallowly. “You better fuck our girl senseless, baby, or I’ll have to do it myself. You don’t want that do you? You want her pussy all to yourself, you don’t want to share, do you?”

The words were a catalyst to something – the cogs of Steve’s mind finally clicking into place to reveal the wolfish greed he had harboured from the beginning. His thrusts turned brutal and every rock of his hips punched a moan from your lungs, the quickfire and brutality of each thrust driving you up Bucky’s chest.

“Please-” You gasped, scrabbling to grab hold of something and Bucky’s hip was the only thing you could find purchase on. “Please, oh, fucking- Stevie!”

“That’s it, kitten, scream for him,” Bucky purred before grabbing the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss, throwing off his rhythm. You whined loudly and Bucky pulled back, chuckling darkly. “Fuck her, Stevie, make her come.”

A low growl shook Steve’s chest, and it rattled your last sense of control. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rambled, attaching his lips to your neck, the opposite side of where Bucky was marking you with his teeth and tongue. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You clamped down tighter on his cock and your moans grew in pitch, but Steve didn’t falter. “She’s close, Stevie, good boy,” Bucky purred. Steve only moaned, shifting his knees so he could fuck you harder. You could feel Bucky’s hand moving down your stomach and a loud static filled your ears. “You wanna come for him, don’t you, kitten? You wanna be a good girl for us?”

Words failed you. Your mouth opened and closed uselessly as you felt Bucky reach your hip, though he didn’t stop. A full body shudder tore through your limbs and you keened, curling inwards as Bucky’s fingers found your much too sensitive clit with his fingers – all through Bucky’s deft touches, Steve didn’t stop his thrusts, if anything, they got harder, faster, as he chased his release.

“Come for us, honey,” Bucky whispered, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. Steve nodded desperately and whined as the start of your climax trapped him, your cunt sucking him in and not allowing him to leave. “Come for us, kitten- Good girl! Oh, lookatchu! Fuck, that’s a girl, good girl-”

You were drowning in pleasure, you couldn’t breathe – couldn’t feel anything but the deadly throes and sensations of Steve’s cock grinding against that spot and the feeling of Bucky’s breath, hot on your neck.

Slowly, you came to laying on your side, pressed between two bodies.

“There she is– hey, sweetheart,” Steve whispered in your ear. Somehow, he was holding you to his chest and Bucky was laying facing you, his eyes opening quickly at Steve’s words.

“Stevie fucked you a bit too good, honey,” Bucky chuckled, cupping your jaw and sidling closer so he could kiss your forehead. “Are you alright?” As he spoke, Steve rubbed one hand up and down your side as you shivered, squeezing you close with the other.

“‘M fine,” you said. “Wha’ happened?”

“You blacked out, doll,” Bucky explained. “It was only for a little while.”

“Awesome,” you whispered, and Steve and Bucky laughed. “Are you guys okay?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Steve said – you could hear the grin in his words, and Bucky nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “We can talk serious shit later, alright? We wanna hold you a lil’ longer.”

“I would love that,” you hummed happily and snuggled into Steve’s arms, smiling as Bucky moved even closer.

One thing was for sure, today for sure cemented the fact that you had made the right decision – now all you had to do was buckle in for the ride.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

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xxbottlecapx · 7 months

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Outsider POV Steddie fic that came to me in a fever dream

Gareth notices the exact second Eddie realizes he is in love with Steve Harrington.

Honestly, Gareth would have been very off putted by the idea of Steve being in their group, especially after whatever shit went down during the earthquake and manhunt that gave Eddie his scars, if not for the fact that every single time Gareth went to visit Eddie in the hospital, Steve was standing vigil at his door.

Any hesitancy about Steve being a good person quickly plummeted after he watched Steve get in not one, not two, not three, but four fistfights with civilians dead set on breaking into a comatose Eddie’s room to “finish him off” even though, Gareth would come to find, Steve had some pretty severe stomach wounds as well.

And now Gareth’s friend group included Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, and of course the new gaggle of hellfire teenager recruits. Eddie, Jeff, Grant, and Gareth have always been rather solitary due to their status as outcasts, and now they had two absolutely terrifying jocks on their team. It was a bit surreal, and their friend group’s number was in the double digits.

Of course, a lot has changed.

Eddie had to use arm crutches now. Gareth wasn’t sure if they were permanent or if he would be able to walk without them with enough physical therapy. He had a large scar on his cheek too, and he was always absolutely terrified, even on the good days. It was just something in his eyes, always panicked, like he would get attacked at any time. If Gareth had been in his shoes, he would be the same way, so Gareth doesn’t judge him for it.

That’s another reason why Gareth paid so close attention to Eddie’s… feelings… regarding former jock King Steve. Eddie was always more comfortable around Steve, like Steve’s presence soothed something in him that no one else could.

Eddie never said he liked men. Even with the outcasts, that wasn’t necessarily a safe thing to talk about. Gareth knew something about secrets that could get you killed, though, as an intersex person himself. So he knew. Had figured it out rather quickly, back in seventh grade, and had subsequently laughed his ass off in private when he realized Eddie, for all his preaching about conformity, had a thing for jocks.

Steve was different, though, than most of the jocks Eddie had feelings for. Eddie didn’t antagonize Steve, at least not in a way Steve didn’t not-so secretly like. Steve didn’t harass Eddie either, didn’t spew hatred at him the way other jocks tended to. Gareth had honestly thought that Eddie liking jocks who treated him like dirt was going to give him a complex or something. Maybe it had. But Steve didn’t give into that stereotype. Steve treated Eddie softly, more so than anyone else ever had, and Gareth was pretty sure that even the clueless folk in the party were aware of that softness. Eddie needed it, especially now, when he always looked two seconds away from jumping in front of a moving vehicle just for some peace and quiet.

When Gareth first met Eddie, he nicknamed him Twitchy, because Eddie was always nervous, shaky, he flinched at everything. When his hair grew out, he got better, and eventually the name faded. The urge was back now, but Gareth only ever gave into it in private. Their own little joke.

It’s how he bonded with Robin, actually, who he found had nicknamed Steve Tiny, despite them being the same size. Tiny and Twitchy. Dynamic duo.

For all Gareth’s talk about Eddie being in love with Steve, he was aware of the fact that Eddie didn’t know yet.

Especially after the earthquake, Eddie wasn’t in touch with his emotions. He never had been, Gareth doesn’t think, but it was definitely worse now. There were things Gareth didn’t know, but he had watched Steve calm Eddie down from night terrors and random daytime flashbacks enough that he wouldn’t ask unless Eddie wanted to talk about it, and Gareth was pretty sure there was something stopping him.

It was good for everyone to get out of Hawkins, especially with all the relief efforts. It could get exhausting to be around that much destruction, even if life was back to some form of semi-normalcy. That’s why when Robin had heard about a carnival a few towns over, all the proceeds meant to help with Hawkins’ hospital, they all decided they could take a day to go, kids included since most of their schoolwork as of current came from a packet that they turned in at the end of the week.

It was a fun day, all in all. Sure, they were a bit limited on what they could do considering Eddie’s forearm crutches and Max’s wheelchair (Gareth didn’t know there would ever come a day where he would understand the people that hate gopher holes), but being out in the open air seemed to calm everyone’s constantly frazzled nerves, at least that’s what Gareth thought.

It was unanimously decided that they wouldn’t stay after dark. Gareth knew he had it easy compared to some of the others in the group, but even he had nightmares about when Jason’s goons held him down and tried to break his hand. He did sprain two of Gareth’s fingers, but luckily they healed quickly. Gareth’s watched multiple of their new group members have meltdowns over flickering lights, which are much easier to notice at night. The dark wasn’t safe for any of them, some people still convinced Eddie was a murderer despite the official story of Henry Creel. Gareth says official because despite not knowing what actually happened, he remembers all of Eddie’s rants about not trusting the government, he’s seen the scars and the nightmares, and he knows it’s all dog water.

The sun was just starting to inch its way past the horizon, purple and orange splayed across the sky like ribbons, as they came upon their last activity.

Face painting.

Robin and Max had spent more than half the day trying to convince Steve to get matching flowers with them. Eventually, despite Gareth’s discomfort of the idea, he said he’d do it too, which led to the entire group (except Mike) agreeing to it.

Steve was by far the most nervous of the bunch about the paint. Gareth liked Steve, with both his masculine and feminine traits. Gareth had always been too scared to be feminine, afraid that someone would figure him out. Gareth looked up to Steve in that way. He didn’t think Steve was aware of his more ‘feminine’ traits, and he’s sure if he pointed it out, it would make Steve stop, so he never did. It’s like Steve gravitated towards those things despite thinking he shouldn’t. Gareth respected the contrast of a guy who could pummel a man twice his height that also liked wearing lipgloss.

Steve went last to get his face painted, the rest of the group roughhousing to the side. Jeff had Mike in a headlock, for whatever reason, and Max and Erica were urging them on, whisper-yelling fight fight fight as to not startle Steve.

Robin was comforting Steve as the woman at the booth readied her supplies. She was going to mimic what she had done on Robin, a cute yet simple pink and yellow floral design on her cheekbones and crawling up the side of her eye.

It became apparent pretty quickly that Steve’s nerves were on high alert. Maybe it was the kids, or just the remembrance of night’s oncoming torrent. Steve kept flinching away from the wet brush, though the wonderful lady manning the booth didn’t seem upset. She kept talking gently, her locs held together in a large bun, some paint on her face and quite a lot of paint in her hair. Gareth didn’t know how she had the patience.

Gareth couldn’t hear what was being said, but Robin kept talking, her hand in Steve’s. She got him into a heated conversation, confusing the fuck out of Gareth, before he realized she was trying to distract him. As Robin ranted, Steve arguing occasionally, the woman running the stand began to slowly paint the side of Steve’s face.

The woman finally finished, moving her colorful hands in a flourish, and Steve thanked her, albeit with a slightly red face when he figured out what was happening.

Robin says something else as Steve gets out of the tiny purple chair set out for him and Steve throws his head back in laughter, the bright drawing on the side of his smiling face visible to Gareth. Gareth looks to his side to say something to Eddie, probably a mindless joke of some sort, and

Oh,

There it was.

Eddie was looking at Steve like he had been punched in the gut, as though all the air had been ripped from him. Like Steve was the most beautiful thing in the world and just looking at him hurt. His hands were clutching his crutches so tightly his fists were turning white. Eddie’s mouth just barely hung open, as though he had forgotten to close it or just wasn’t aware enough of his body to do so, his wide eyes dilated in a way that would have made Gareth think he was on something if not for the fact that Eddie hasn’t even touched pot since he got out of the hospital.

There was so much devotion in that look that it would have startled Gareth if he didn’t already know.

Thank God no one else was watching, because Gareth knew everyone would figure it out in seconds if they saw the look on Eddie’s face right now. There was no denying it.

Steve laughs again at something Robin said, and Eddie audibly gulps.

Well, he’s finally figured it out, then, Gareth thinks.

“Close your mouth.” Gareth whispers, bumping Eddie’s side as Robin and Steve wave to the artist and start walking towards them. It snaps Eddie out of the Steve-imposed trance, and he visibly shakes himself off, as though Steve’s impression on him had to be dealt away with by force. It would have been cute to see Eddie blushing so if it wasn’t also terrifying, Eddie’s eyes widening in horror now as he, upon just realizing he was probably in love with Steve, is also realizing that Gareth saw it.

“It’s okay. I know. You’re okay.” Gareth whispered again, just so Eddie could hear. He put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, partially to stop him from trying to get away and partially because he knew touch comforted him.

They would have to have a conversation about it later so that Eddie wasn’t scared Gareth would tell anyone. By not moving away from him, Gareth hoped he was able to make his message clear that Gareth was not judging. He had no reason to judge, especially considering his budding crush on Will Byers.

Gareth sighed, trying to give Eddie an encouraging look that, luckily, did seem to calm him down a little, a shaky grimace making its way back to him.

Now all Gareth needed to do was find out how to tell Eddie that he was pretty sure Steve liked him back.

Yes this is based off of that one Anne With an E scene.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steveddie #eddie x steve #stranger things s4 #robin buckley #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #outsider pov

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kermitkrqb · 5 months

Text

Catch me if you can || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Told myself I wasn’t going to write anymore fan fic but here I am 😋…. I’m starting to realise I have a thing for tall and blonde villains.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow likes to chase, fem!reader likes to be caught, established relationship, predator/prey dynamics, public sex, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), praise.

Here’s a taste of the fic:

“The sight of you running away further stokes the sinful desire building up in his chest. You’re wearing a long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the very picture of innocence. How he’d love to ruin you.”

MDNI: By clicking read below, you are responsible for the media you consume.

Coriolanus’ voice echoed around the woods, urging the birds to flee, “If you come out now, I’ll go easy on you…I promise.” A lie, one that you had once fallen for before. Coryo, was always so pent up after chasing you, the adrenaline fuelling him as he had his way with you- rough and unforgiving. Every single time. Your thighs subconsciously squeeze together at the thought, but you were on a mission here. Don’t get caught…for now. You’re light on your feet, tip-toeing across the forest floor, ignoring the pulsing need in between your legs and crawling up your spine. Much like the man chasing you, you liked to drag out the chase. Although he was much stronger and faster, you had found ways around that. Often finding ways to stall or catch him off guard before he inevitably claimed his prize, you found that it was always worth the wait.

Peering out from behind the thick tree, your eyes scanned the area around you. The woods seemed endless, splotches of brown and green merging together the longer you looked. It was eerily quiet. You shuffled around the tree trying to get a better sense of your surroundings, when you feel the weight of a small branch snapping underneath your foot. The snap seemed to echo, and you had no doubt that Coriolanus was onto you. Rustling in the distance is heard before you see a tall and broad figure emerge from one of the bushes, his eyes glinting with excitement as he takes in your flushed and nervous state. You feel the air leave your lungs before you snap out of your trance and begin to run. You almost regret wearing a dress today, the length of its skirt has you almost stumbling to muddy ground beneath you. Though, you both know it’s for easier access.

The sight of you running away further stokes the sinful desire building up in his chest. You’re wearing a long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the very picture of innocence. How he’d love to ruin you. It doesn’t take long for Coriolanus to catch up to you, he could practically already feel you in his arms. The two of you stumble into a forest clearing, circling around each other, chests heaving from adrenaline. The cocky bastard smirks at you, “Ready to give up, dove?” A smile adorns your face, seemingly innocent at first as you evade his question, “I really like this dress you bought me Coryo. It’s really pretty,” you twirl but are wary enough to keep a safe distance, “…so pretty in fact that I chose not to wear anything underneath it at all… I didn’t want to distract from the dress of course.”

His eyes widen slightly, jaw clenching as he takes a moment to register your words. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, bringing him back to reality as he watches you sprint away once more. Coryo begins to chase after you with a renewed vigour, grinning to himself in victory as he catches the back of your dress, pulling you backwards and towards him. His muscular arms circle around your waist as you wriggle against him, your plump ass unintentionally grinding against his now apparent bulge. Coriolanus is now manhandling you, bringing you towards the nearest tree. He presses your front against the tree, your cheek turned to the side so you can catch a glimpse of what he is doing. The familiar feeling of the rough bark against your skin excites you. His hands circle your wrists as he pins your arms up, caging you in as he now purposely presses his crotch against the swell of your ass, mimicking the act of fucking you, “Caught you.”

You let out a pathetic whimper as he continues to press himself against you, his eyes watch you with amusement and lust. Coryo mocks you, “Already can’t speak? I haven’t even started yet…” He lets go of one of your arms and it stays there as you cling onto the tree. He pushes your hair away from your neck and starts to trail rough kiss below your ear, sure to leave a mark for the ones that have faded. A soft whine leaves your lips, “Coryo please…” The tall blonde ignores you before pulling away slightly, he whispers into your ear, “Patience is a virtue.” You scoff at him, “You’re no saint.” You feel him smirk against your sensitive skin, “Maybe…but that doesn’t stop you from chanting my name like one.” Before you can reply, he flips you around to properly face him before getting on his knees, you spread your legs apart before he asks you to as he hikes up your dress, “Good girl… now hold on to your skirt for me.” You feel yourself pulse at his praise and fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together. Your shaky hands hold on to the skirt of your dress, partially shielding your vision of him.

True to your words, Coriolanus is faced with the sight of your bare cunt, glistening with desire. He trails a long finger across your wet folds, grazing your clit slightly. Your legs tremble and he smirks, “Is this all for me, darling?” He doesn’t wait for a response before beginning to lap you up with his tongue, pressing it flat against you before using the tip to circle your bundle of nerves. You let out a strangled moan, cheeks burning with embarrassment despite the fact that you’re both in the depths of the woods. He eases a finger into you, curling it upwards and hitting that sweet spot, your knees buckle slightly but he grips onto you with his free hand. Soon enough, one finger turns into two, and two turns into three as he stretches you out in preparation for him. You’re just about to reach your peak when he suddenly withdraws his fingers from your core and stands up from his position.

“Why’d you stop, I was so close…”, your words of protest quickly die down as he unbuckles his pants. His length springs up against his stomach, hard and pulsing, twitching slightly as pre-cum leaks from the pretty pink tip. Coriolanus uses this and some of the left over slick on his hand to stroke himself before lining up with your centre. You can’t help but stare. He hikes up one of your legs, letting it circle around his hip as he pushes into you. Instinctively your arms wrap around his neck, clinging on to him as he bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, setting a rough and unforgiving pace as he keeps a firm grip on your hips that would surely bruise later on. A series of moans and grunts leave our lips as he repeatedly thrusts into you. The slight curve of his length pressing into your sweet spot again and again.

Coriolanus’ hands are everywhere he can touch, he’s tugging down the neckline of your dress, palming at your breasts whilst nipping marks across your collarbone. Despite still being clothed, you’ve never felt so exposed as he fucks into your wet heat. The fact that anyone could stumble across the two of you has you clenching around him. You can’t help but wonder what you’d do if someone saw you in this vulnerable state. Would you push Coryo off of you? Would you let them watch? Maybe you’d even let them join the both of you… You snap out of your trance after a particularly sharp thrust, Coryo snapping his hips against yours harshly and he brings a hand down to where you are each connected. His thumb rubs harsh circles around your clit and you clench around him, “Coryo ‘m close…please.” Coriolanus isn’t too far behind, you notice in the way his thrusts become slightly sloppy and how he grips onto you tighter, “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You do as he says, your walls fluttering around him as he’s spearing you open with his length. Soon thick ropes of come shoot into you, some of it dripping down your thighs as warmth envelopes you. Coriolanus goes limp, chest heaving with exhaustion as his length softens inside of you. He doesn’t let you go, holding you against the tree as you both catch your breath. A peaceful quiet remains as you stroke his hair lovingly as he leaves doting kisses in the crook of your neck. He breaks the silence, you can feel his cheeky smile against your skin, “Maybe next time, I should bring some rope to tie you up.”

A/N: no bc this evil man has me kicking my feet nd giggling in bed

#tbosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top #kermitkrqb

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