#for the evenin crew
Note
What’s Jake’s internal reaction and how does the magic work the first time he meets Guppy in the bar?
I GOT you.
It was a small village along the coast. A “blink and you might miss it” type of place, but there were surprisingly several large ships docked at its harbor.
The chatter from the quaint pub could be heard out on the cobblestone streets, and Jake was eager to bolster his crew. That was the thing about curses; when they affected the whole crew, very few wanted to stay.
Jake swing the door to the pub open and he felt every pair of eyes in the room land on him and his crew. He heard several giggles from the ladies as he scanned the room, and the prickle underneath his skin began to itch for the company that would only serve to dull the sensation, not end it.
His eyes landed on the pretty, little thing behind the bar who watched him curiously instead of batting her eyelashes at him. He liked that, and the prickle grew stronger.
Jake began to walk towards you, and he watched as you casted a weary glance to the older man at the end of the bar before offering him a polite smile.
“Evenin’,” you greeted him. “What can I get you?”
Jake licked his lips in anticipation as he looked you over.
“An ale, and your company if you’re offerin’ that too.”
He watched your cheeks flush, and Jake decided then and there that he couldn’t wait to see you do it again as you bounced on his co-
“The ale, I can get you, but I’m not in the habit of entertaining sailors.”
Jake grinned. He always liked a challenge.
“Shame,” he hums as he watched you pour his ale. “Would have been nice to have someone as pretty as you in my bed tonight.”
His fingers brushed yours as he took the mug from your outstretched hand, and he nearly dropped the damn thing. That was new. The slight touch had brought him just a brief moment of…nothing. He hadn’t felt the prickle that had been a constant thorn in his side for six years when he touched you. He felt…relief?
Brushing it off as a trick of his imagination, he caught the irritated jaw clench of the man next to him. He saw you give the man a warning glance before turning back to him.
"I believe there are more than a couple of girls over there who would be willing to warm your bed tonight, Mr...?"
"Seresin," he said with a cheeky grin. You should know it now that he was determined to have you. "Jake Seresin. And I'm not interested in having anyone but you, pretty girl."
"Well, then it looks like your bed will go cold tonight after all," you said to him. The man next to him snorted in clear amusement, trying to cover his blunder with a cough. Jake ignored him, attention focused solely on you. It had been a long time since he had a challenge.
The old man down the bar flared at him.
“Seresin,” he grunted. “I’ve heard of you. You’re a pirate.”
All conversation in the pub died at the word, and Jake felt a wave of irritation flood over him. He saw the way you looked wearily at him, and he felt angry at the realization that you wouldn’t be swayed now, no matter how hard he tried to convince you.
"Pirate is such a nasty word," he drawled, taking a sip of his ale. "I prefer the term... liberator.”
"Whatever you call it, you have no business here,” the old man snapped.
"I beg to differ, my friend," Jake countered, moving to stand. He fought to keep his temper at bay. Turning to the rest of the room, he stated, "I'm looking for men to join my crew. You keep what you can carry with you. If you're interested, come see me."
And with one final glance at you, he sauntered off towards the back of the room where his crew had taken up purchase. He watched you for the remainder of the evening, his thoughts straying to you long after you had left.
#top gun maverick#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x you#top gun hangman#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman#hangman x you#hangman seresin#hangman top gun#hangman fanfiction#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#I’m so tired I hope this makes sense#ff#fool’s fare
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Dear captain, I'm so happy and pleased you have returned to us finally...How have you been, what adventures have you been living during this all long time? How's your crew and your Kraken?
"Me and the crew haven' been up tah much interestin' business as bein' cursed restricts yeh tah nae doin' things yah once found enjoyable such as headin' tah a pleasant tavern in the evenin' or attendin' a musical concert- uh."
Jones remarked bitterly as he plucks off the barnacles one by one on his clawed arm. He then glances to Maccus who is sat near to him who is also managing the infuriating barnacles on his own limbs.
"Nevertheless, life is as usual as it can be on board the Flying Dutchman. Right, Maccus?"
"Aye, cap'n. Though last week we had fun settin' the Kraken loose on one of that pompous wig-wearing Beckett which never gets dull." He nods with a proud toothy grin.
#[answered]#pirates of the caribbean#davy jones#bill nighy#maccus#potc#i missed these two fishy boys so much
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Marvel Spooktober #6
Title: Marvel Spooktober #6
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC!
Author: @sheerfreesia007
Prompt: Transformation
Words: 1,049
Warnings: Violence, mention of death
Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien
Gif Credit: @daredevilcentral
The moon was full as it hung in the dark midnight sky, you blearily rubbed your eyes as you parked your vehicle and stepped out of it. It was another eventful night in Hell’s Kitchen as you nodded your head tiredly at the patrol officer who was in charge of the perimeter. You noticed Officer Crawford standing by the door to the little bodega and walked over to him.
“What do we got Crawford?” you asked softly knowing that it wasn’t going to be good.
“Evenin’ Detective.” he greeted as he began to lead you into the crime scene. “We’ve got three dead from what look like animal attacks. Slashed from shoulder to hip across their fronts, they bled out within minutes. The store is a mess and the bodega clerk is pretty much catatonic. Keeps mumbling about a monster of some sort. No one can get anything out of him.” he explained grimly and you nodded your head along to his words.
“Cameras?” you asked as your eyes darted around the bodega knowing that there’d be at least something.
“All operating except for one in the money room. Haven’t had a chance to view the footage yet though. Figured we’d let you get a feel for the scene and then view the video.” he responded and you nodded your head again.
You turned to the scene and nearly vomited on the floor, blood was spilled everywhere. The floor was coated in at least a half inch layer of blood and it was starting to congeal quickly as you tried not to step in it as the crime scene clean up crew moved about cleaning it up. Three bodies were being bagged by the medical examiner and CSI was already gathering evidence and photographing everything. Your eyes darted around the store and began to jot down anything that stood out to you as Crawford led you further into the store.
“Any connection between the victims?” you asked curiously and Crawford nodded his head at your question.
“All gang members from the local drive-by shootings in Hell’s Kitchen.” he responded and you looked at him surprised which made him nod his head grimly.
“What a coincidence.” you said derisively and Crawford chuckled darkly at your words. “Alright let me go about the scene for a little bit. Do me a favor and set up the video and just leave it for me.” you told Crawford who nodded and walked back to the back room of the store before leaving the store all together. You moved to the back of the store and began taking note of the whole scene, making sure to jot down any little details that stood out to you. You heard the back door of the bodega open slightly and you looked over your shoulder at the now familiar red Devil. “Right on time Devil I’m about to view the footage of the crime. Care to join me?” you ask him before moving to the back room of the bodega not waiting for an answer that will never come.
You had met Hell’s Kitchen Devil on one of your very first crime scenes, he had fallen right in the middle of it due to a fight he had nearly lost on the roof above you. After having the biggest scare of your life you had helped the Devil get situated and cleaned up before going back to your scene and finding more clues that he had unearthed. He had helped you a lot during that first scene and every scene he showed up to after that, he was a great asset to have since he wasn’t limited by protocol and policy like your career was. Plus he was able to get more information on things happening in the city at a quicker rate.
Walking into the back room of the bodega you took a seat at the little table that had the computer monitors on it where the video would be able to be viewed. You felt the man walk in after you and crowd behind you as you began to click on the play button of the video. The two of you watched as the store came into view through two camera angles, one from the back of the store and one from the front of the store. The shop owner was manning the register while there was a hooded man at the back of the store looking at the soda through the refrigerator glass door. About five minutes later the three gang members entered the store and you noticed the hooded man tense in his stance. The three gang members then crowded near the man at the back of the store and looked as if they were having a one sided conversation with him, most likely taunting him as that gang was wont to do.
The man didn’t seem to react until one of the gang members leaned closer to him and said something in his ear. That was when the man flinched back and snapped something back at the gang members who all jerked back at his outburst. You watched the hooded man avidly as he began to breathe heavily as he took a step back away from the gang members. The members all gathered close and pulled out their weapons, a mix between lethal and non lethal weapons to defend themselves. The hooded man seemed to pulse with his heaving breaths and right before your eyes you watched in horror as he grew in size almost like the hulk but his body sprouted hair and his face elongated into a wolf’s snout.
“Oh my god!? He’s a werewolf? Is that a thing?!” you asked bewildered as your eyes widened and continued to watch as the man fully transformed into a werewolf and howled loudly enough to shake the camera on the wall. He then turned and attacked the gang members, his long claws swiping effortlessly across their chests and opening the wounds that they ultimately succumbed to. You gasped softly as you watched the werewolf turn and glare at the camera before howling loudly once more causing the camera to glitch and go dark. “Holy shit.” you said softly into the quiet room and the Devil at your back nodded his head silently.
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Dark Water
Chapter 32 : A String and A Sailor Pt. 2
prev | next | masterlist
content: nothing whumpy this way comes (for the next couple chapters).
It was late afternoon by the time Anne arrived at the Talon main port. Two ships were docked, one loading cargo while the other sat idle on the other side. A bell tolled in the distance, and the hum of working feet, rolling carts, and talking pirates rounded out the atmosphere of an otherwise normal day.
Anne was not a stranger, though the town had changed so much that the faces were almost new to her each time she made the trip. What once was only a harbor master and a pub was now three brothels and an inn attached at the hip, leading to the Blacksmiths' and the Tailor, then the town Doctor who had a sign posted on his door; likely mentioning he was in surgery and to not be disturbed.
The two large crews meandered along the dirt roads, filtering in and out of the few establishments while others sat in the cool of the shade as the coastal breeze allowed a breath of fresh air.
She walked toward the pub, nodding to the Harbor Master as she passed his post.
"Anne!" He called, excusing himself from a conversation. His blonde hair was pasted down to his skull from the heat as he removed his hat and ruffled it out a moment, then replaced it.
"Evenin' Burke," she greeted.
"Ye headin' in or away?"
"In," she answered, "on business, I'm afraid."
"Ye always on business, aren't ye?" he smiled. It was a boyish smile, though his fox-like hazel eyes always betrayed him. "Any way I might convince ye to take a moment away?"
Anne looked around. There were a few characters hanging about, out of earshot or pretending not to hear. She looked at Burke and tilted her head.
"I wouldn't pass up a drink if ye offerin'."
Burke smiled, "that I am. Let's go, then," he offered his arm, then looked over his shoulder, "harbor's closed, mate!"
The stocky pirate groaned, "What about the contract? Burke!"
"The sea will still be there in the morning!" He called back as Anne threaded her arm through the crick in his elbow.
The pirate growled, "I need this done tonight! Tell ye wench ta leave us men to our business, aye?"
Burke paused, then looked down at Anne with that same smile, "excuse me."
He turned and briskly walked back. Anne watched from far enough away that their words were just a series of low rumblings, then he landed a hard right onto the pirate's face, sending him to the ground.
"I don't believe I stuttered," Burke mused, then adjusted his coat, flicking back the tail with a snap as crouched and offered a hand.
"No," the man answered from the ground, wiping blood from his lip as he took the help, "That was a good hit."
Burke nodded, then gave a solid slap to the man on the shoulder, "If ye promise to behave, approach me when I'm full 'a rum and we'll talk it through, aye? I'm sure the lady wouldn't mind."
In a flash, he was beside Anne, and her arm was in his as they walked to the Talon Eye pub. It was owned by a pirate who retired with a fortune from a lucky plunder. Allegedly, of course. The old man only carried a few coins that never seemed to run out. Most let him be, seeing as he was a salty dog with a few pegs short of a peg leg. However, there's always the one or two who are too eager for a treasure hunt, and find themselves at the other end of fortune.
Burke led the way, securing a small table for them in the corner, away from the crowd. Anne sat while keeping an eye and ear about as Burke brought back two pints. He settled heavily into the chair with a relaxed sigh, locking eyes with Anne as she took a sip. The dark liquid spread over her tongue with a bitterness that faded quickly to a thick cream-like finish.
"Ye seem tense."
She swallowed, "observant as ever."
Burke subdued a smile, "Can I ask why?"
"No."
He took a drink, then flicked the glass handle with the nail of his thumb. "Then how 'bout we talk about other things?"
"There isn't much to talk about when ye life is work."
"Work is fascinating."
His eyes gleamed with a soft grin that gently wrinkled the stubble of his face and pushed up the corners of his mustache. It almost made his statement genuine, though she knew better. She took another sip, just to allow a moment to gain her bearings. Of the two crews, there were only a few characters that looked high-rank enough to have some coin...
"What a lot!" Burke playfully hit the table, "workin' with ye best friend, away from the crowd-"
She looked at him, then, and his gusto faded as his brows stitched together.
"What's botherin' ye, Anne?"
She suddenly felt the particular twist of her face, and immediately corrected it before chugging the rest of her drink. It sunk into her stomach, filling it nicely and spreading to her extremities with a cool coat of alcohol that was another pint away from making her head buzz. Maybe it was a mead? The glass thunked onto the table, and she lifted her arm to burp into her elbow as she replied.
"Why would I be bothered?"
Burke shrugged, "I dunno. Tell me, maybe I can help."
"There's no money in it."
"Ye company is enough."
Anne sighed, "despite ye intentions, I better not ," she stood, "thank ye for the drink."
Burke scrambled out of his chair and met her before she could walk away.
"Anne. Anne, I'm sorry," he reached out, but knew better than to touch her, "ye don't have to say a thing, we can just... exist together, aye?"
The alcohol swung at the knees of Anne's resolve, and for a moment she felt her lips shake as an overwhelming feeling of dread washed over her. Burke was many things; trustworthiness not being among the top ten of virtues anyone would use to describe him. Anne didn't know what she hated most, the fact that she could actually use his help, or that she couldn't speak of herself any higher.
Her eyes drifted to the knuckles on his right hand; tinged with pink from the earlier confrontation.
"Why'd ye 'it 'im?"
The question came out before she could stop it, and Burke followed her eye to his knuckles. He flexed his hand.
"He called ye a wench."
"So?"
His brows furrowed, "So, ye not."
"I am, technically."
"Not in the way he meant it."
"Why does that matter?"
They stared, or rather, Anne stared. Burke cooly took another drink, curling his lips as he swallowed and set his cup down on the table, releasing it as he leaned forward and locked eye with her again.
"I guess it doesn't. Take me for a fool."
Anne held his gaze as her mind weighed the risk, called back as his fingers graced hers. The scoundrel was persistent.
The look on his face when she grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her was something new. Surprise, followed by a pensive nod as she whispered into his ear. She tried her best to be vague; to only mention what she needed, not why, but there was only a handful of people on Talon that could fathom the money she was asking for, and the way that Burke tensed, she could tell he already knew to whom she owed it.
Burke took it in, nodding to the pirates who raised a glass at his supposed accomplishment of having a woman in his arms. He played it up, wrapping one around her while she mentioned the lad. He tried to piece it all together when he caught the eye of the pirate he had leveled as he entered.
"If ye can't 'elp, don't ye dare tell a soul," was her final plea before loosening her grip, "what say ye?"
His face came unstuck while his smile re-emerged, now an instrument of the game as he waved the pirate over and hurriedly responded.
"Ye scope them out, then lead them to me," he winked, then looked at the approaching pirate, "Vincent! Take a seat, mate! We'll share a round and talk it over," he gestured to the now empty seat, and then smiled at Anne.
She turned to meander, catching sight of the pirate, who took off his hat and smiled politely at her while he pushed back the stray strands of his black braid.
"Forgive me, lass, for my behavior earlier."
Anne paused, "ah... it's," she smiled, "that's alright. No 'arm done."
The man beamed, his eyes shifting like the sand. He replaced his hat and continued toward the table while she walked further into the crowd.
"Thank ye for taking the time, Burke."
The chairs scraped across the floorboards.
"Ah think nothing of it, mate! A man willing to apologize is 'a man of good sense, and is always welcome at my table. Let me look at that contract again, I'm sure I can come up with something beneficial for us both."
taglist: @sparrowsage @kixngiggles @annablogsposts @honey-is-mesi
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@droppingdonkeys
Now that the ship wasn’t in immediate danger of sinking anymore, Jacob had hopped off the boat along with a good chunk of the crew to explore this new port.
The Captain had said it was an interesting little place, and Jacob had spotted the woman who had talked to him when they first docked. Figured he might as well start off with talking to her.
“Evenin’.”
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A Long Day's Night
A TOS Spones story for @yourboiashketchum
McCoy's head shot up from the pile of padds he was pouring over as a soft knock sounded against the door to his office.
"Enter," he called, not bothering to stifle his yawn as he rubbed his tired eyes.
"Doctor," Spock greeted as he entered. "Leonard," he added once they were alone.
McCoy smiled at the sound of his name.
"Evenin', Spock. How was your chess match?"
Spock took the seat opposite his, the small, private smile he only shared with those closest to him on his lips.
"It was sufficient."
"Got your butt handed to you, didn't you?"
McCoy's grin was teasing, but he was 't far off the mark.
"The Captain is quite skilled."
Quiet, husky laughter filled the room, and Spock found the sound rather pleasant.
"You have been working for 2.3 hours later than you were scheduled," he said evenly.
"Yeah, well. I got some updated medical journals at the last star base, so I've been making some adjustments to the treatment plans for some of the crew."
"I see. Your efforts are admirable. However, as you often do for me when in the midst of an experiment, I have come to remind you of the hour."
"Yeah, I know. Can't blame me, though." McCoy stood and stretched, popping his stiff back. "Watching you and Jim puts me to sleep, and I didn't want to go home alone."
"Then allow me to escort you there."
McCoy's blue eyes lit up with warmth. Moments like these were how he knew Spock loved him. Little acts of service, a quiet checking-in. They weren't the grand gestures he'd used when he was courting Joce, but something about them was sweeter, far sweeter than he'd ever thought he'd get again.
"I think that sounds quite nice."
As they left the office, he gently brushed his fingers against Spock's. He hoped he could read his own love, his gratitude, through the brief contact. If he couldn't, well. He wasn't a Vulcan, and would have no qualms about admitting the feelings to him loud. At least, once they were away from the rest of the crew. A man had to have his dignity, after all. Though, from the teasing grin Chapel sent his way as they left, that might have gone out the airlock ages ago.
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Mechtober Day 15 - HNOC
Brian had never really considered the fact he didn't have blood, but recent times had found him increasingly thankful for the fact.
He had to be thankful for something anyway, because otherwise he'd start thinking about his current situation, and then he'd start thinking about how much being hung upside down for years, with no shade from the unrelenting sun and no protection from the freezing nights, was truly a terrible experience, and then he'd start thinking about how he came to be here, and then he'd start thinking about losing that fucking bet, and he really did not want to start thinking about that bet.
Galahad interrupted his train of thought with a tip of his hat and an:
"Evenin', Merlin. How's the day finding you?"
Brian didn't make an oh, just hanging around joke, because he still had some self respect left.
"Today I'm grateful that I don't have to feel the blood all pooled in my head," he said instead, in a way that didn't sound grateful at all. "It's the only thing I have left to be positive about."
"That so?" Galahad replied, in the vague sort of way people will agree to anything you say when they're busy thinking about something else.
Brian paused.
"Did something happen?" he asked, whirring with concern.
This was worrying. Something was definitely going to happen - the crew wouldn't have come here otherwise - but things couldn't be moving this fast already. The exposition had barely been laid.
Taking a seat next to Brian's head, Galahad looked across the square to the Joyous Guard. The shadows in the windows showed that someone, at least, was having fun tonight.
"I've been hearing talk. Some folks reckon you've been telling the future."
Brian doesn't quite hide the bitterness in his voice.
"If they think that, it'd be nice if they listened to me."
He'd tried though, that was the important part. He'd warned Gawain that his hatred for the Saxons would lead only down the dark road of violence. He'd told Arthur that maybe, just maybe the world did still have hope in it and that hope was coming in the form of his son, long thought dead.
He had tried, even though they'd both nodded politely, disregarding every single word he said.
Galahad barked a laugh.
"Those bastards ain't the listening type and don't I know it."
He looked at Brian out of the corner of his eye, considering something for a while before he next spoke.
"Hey Hanged Man. You don't happen to have any more of those prophecies lying around, do you?"
It was a deliberate question, one that, despite the careless words, hadn't been asked easily. Brian could feel the weight of Galahad's expectations as he tried to word a good enough answer.
He was about to say a flat no. No, that's not how any of this works, and I can't justify lying and giving you false hope, and maybe it would have been easier if he did.
Except…
Except Brian had the unpleasant realisation that that statement would have been a lie.
There was something that he could see. Bright lights and gunshots and the burning chair. All the way to the inner ring of the station and the Captain sleeping there, hands grasped tight around the source of new life. True and useful are not the same thing, sneers Jonny and the words melt in his mouth. Falling, falling, falling, and the endless, all consuming flames.
Well.
That was interesting.
Galahad was still watching him, trying not to be obvious about it, and failing.
"If you ain't got nothing Merlin, you can tell me. I was just wonderin'."
Brian's neck creaked as he tried to shake his head. He has something alright.
Third time lucky then?
"Deep within the depths of the station…"
#shout out to nyx who was like hey d you reckon that bet [mechtober day uh. the suits] was why brian got left in the sun#and i went [bill wurtz voice] you could make a fic out of that!#the mechanisms#mechtober 2022#writing
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WIP DAY
i was tagged by @aartyom and @arklay to do this (on wednesday) but i forgot and didn’t have anything new until now anyway, but now that i do so thank you two sm mwah ♡ not tagging anyone because i feel like you all did this, BUT if you haven’t, i tag YOU! 👇
alcohol mention. currently finally working on my pillars fic again after like, a year, hee hee
She’d been submerged into her realm only once.
She was standing at the rear, one hand holding onto the railing despite The Defiant swaying gently beneath her feet.
Echoing from the deck behind her, lively shouts and loud chatter stoked by alcohol and high morale reached her ears. Her own bottle was half-empty, its content sloshing against the dark glass as she twirled it around with her free hand, staring absent-mindedly out onto the open sea. She didn't particularly like it; although the spicy flavour tickled her tongue it was still too sweet, and it made her eyes heavy and limbs tired.
“It’ll help with all that worryin’ you do, Cap’n”, Serafen had told her, smiling, yet his eyes had been serious, “for one evenin’ at least.”
He hadn’t been wrong, exactly. She simply didn’t know if she preferred this alcohol-induced melancholy over her sober worries. At least the things she thought about then were still in the future, had yet to be happening, but now? Now she’s thinking about what was and what is, what can no longer be changed, things she’d been thinking about even before all this, and things that all this had brought upon her, too.
Like the ache that pulled at her near the live, green stone. Like the foreign emotions that sometimes seized her, letting her know of another lost soul being close. Like the lightheadedness that spread into her very bone, the chiming of a bell, and the unkind dismissal after nothing but fruitless arguments among the gods.
“The crew needs it”, her first mate had told her, after suggesting a feast to lighten the mood among ‘all this doom-and-gloom’, and, after regarding her in silence for a moment, had added, “you do, too.”
What she needed was to vanish from the planet’s surface for a while, to forget about everything and everyone to forget about her. Edér knew this, but all he could offer was something mortals could achieve, and she was thankful for it, anyway.
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Poedit Cut/Unused Content: Cap'n Strawbeard
Seems Arthur had an interaction in the pub with Cap'n Strawbeard that didn't make the cut.
Strawbeard vs. the barkeep
001 ARRRR! Innkeep, a flagon of your finest rum for a buccaneer with a thirst as fierce as the Drake Passage.
002 We've got scotch, mate. You owe me five quid.
003 I will happily pay you when my ship comes in.
004 The Flying Dutchman? Maybe you can get one of these fine landlubbers to spot you a bottle.
005 Arrrr.
Arthur initiates conversation:
006 Arrrrr! I be in no mood to chinwag with tea-drinking landlubbers. Go drink your water and be done with ye.
007 Away with ye! I got me own sorrows to drown, and nothin' to drown them with.
008 Take a long walk off a short plank, laddie, unless ye've a mind to spot me a bottle.
009 WILL NO ONE STAND A POOR RETIRED PIRATE TO A BOTTLE?
010 A bottle for my peg-legged friend!
011 Ahhh, that feels better than going down to Davy Crockett's locker!
012 You mean Davy Jones?
013 Don't get all high and mighty with me laddie! When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
014 Let me tell you, laddie, I have sailed the seven seas. Landlubbers fear me and my scurvy pirate crew. We have looted and plundered to the four compass points. Islanders fear my black sails. I have emptied their larders of food, and their chests of sovereigns, and buried it where I will. The sovereigns, obviously. Not the food. That would go bad.
015 Buried treasure, you say?
016 Indeed. But you won't see me boasting about it. Not unless you'd care to spot me another bottle.
017 Of course not. Barkeep? Another bottle for the pirate.
018 Aye. That's better. The dread pirate Strawbeard has scoured the island of the Virgin for all that is worth taking, and buried it out of sight. And the island of King Lud, where once was a great civilization, but now the people huddle in the ruins over camp fires, fearing the night walkers. I have given them food to eat, and for that, they trade me parts. Some of which, I buried. Ye never know.
019 That's awfully Robin Hoodish of you, taking from the fat and giving to the thin.
020 Aye, but ye won't catch me boasting about it. Not unless you'd care to spot me another bottle.
021 Aren't you worried about your liver?
022 How about a little less interrogatin' and a little more hospitality?
023 All right. Barkeep? Another bottle for the Captain.
024 I have been to the island of the Knight. Happy it is by day, but by night, oh, I am the terror of their town, for I descend upon their houses in silence, and make off with all their booty. And I have been to the island where they eat nothing but Eel Pie, and precious little of that. They starve, and dream of home. It is a sad place, and I'd rather not talk about it. And one day, I shall sail to the island of Apples, and sack their proud tall buildings, see if I don't.
025 Eel pie... King Lud ... the Maiden ... Apple Holm. So ... basically, you're a burglar. You rob buildings in Wellington Wells.
026 Arrr! No! I am a pirate!
027 Have you got a boat?
028 Errr... I was in the Navy, back in the day.
029 I don't believe you have treasure.
030 I'll prove it! Look, I'll draw you a map.
031 A map to a map. Oh, well, that there is incontrovertible proof. Who am I to contradict you now! I stand corrected.
032 Don't get snooty with me, lad! I've nothing to prove to you.
033 Oh, me father was the keeper of the Eddystone Light There he slept with a mermaid one fine night. And from this union there came three: A porpoise and a porgy and the other was me. Yo ho ho, the wind blows free O for the life of the rooooolling sea. One night as I was trimmin' of the glim, Humming a tune from the evenin' hymn. A voice from the starboard shouted "Ahoy!" And there was me mother, a-sittin' on a buoy. Yo ho ho, the wind blows free O for the life of the rooooolling sea. "Oh what has become of the children three?" Me mother then, she asked of me. One we exhibited as a talking fish, And one we served in a chafing dish. Yo ho ho, the wind blows free O for the life of the rooooolling sea. Then the phosphorus flashed in her seaweed hair. I looked again and me mother wasn't there. But I heard her voice calling back through the night "The devil take the keeper of the Eddystone Light!" Yo ho ho, the wind blows free O for the life of the rooooolling sea.
034 Don't go! I was just getting to the best part!
035 Have ye no appreciation for the art of narrative?
036 Ah, a man can develop a thirst in the salt sea air.
037 If only I could moisten me parched throat, the stories I could tell.
038 I know where there's treasure, and therein lies a tale.
039 See? If you was to go there, ye would find a map to buried piratical treasure.
Answers the question of how he was brave enough to venture out into Lud's Holm in the first place but not enough to rescue Edmund. He's established himself as an ally out there and so Wastrels are not a threat, but that doesn't apply to cultists.
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Part 9, Chapter 3
How can one man cause such pain for people he once seemed to care for, indeed? But these we’ve already met cannot be the only ones affected… Perhaps we can meet other sides of the dice, so to speak?
It was a few days later, the last of the day’s customers leaving with their tired children. Leyla waved them all goodbye from the doors and helped a few parents to rearrange how they were carrying the prizes or presents their kids had received. In the midst of the stragglers leaving, a middle-aged man hobbled his way in the door.
“Evening, Mr Marke-”
“Dallas, Leyla. I ain’t that old yet,” he corrected her, “And evenin’ to you too. Henry here?” He paused and leaned on the cane braced against his left arm.
“I believe he’s in his office, but Chester has the notes from the day,” the animatronic tilted her head, “You’re not finally thinking of retiring, are you?”
“Eeehhh, nah. I’ll be kicking til the day this old injury,” he raised his right hand slowly to point at the scarring on that side of his face, “Finally does me in. And that’s only taken 3 years so far!” While the right side of his mouth curved up in a smug grin, the left barely twitched in an attempt to match it.
“Of course… I’ll be cleaning up in the main party rooms, but if you nee- want any help with anything, you know where I am.”
Dallas regained his balance with his canes and nodded. His hat tipped in a farewell gesture as he made his way back into Parts & Service to start his part of evening maintenance. At least his brace and canes didn’t seem to slow him down, but everyone assumed that was due to his stubbornness. He’d always been stubborn, mind, but after his incident with the toy animatronics at the last location, he’d bounced back and been even moreso.
Viktor and John waved as he passed them at the arcade’s prize counter, “Hey, Dallas! How are you holding up tonight?” John asked.
“As sturdy as ever so far. I didn’t know you worked the toy counter, Vik.”
Viktor chuckled, holding up one of the signs meant to rotate through a few encouraging messages or notes of congratulation for kids as they picked out prizes, “I don’t, but as the man who knows best how to handle these, John asked for my help. Stupid thing seems to have busted itself though, it’s not wanting to display half of its pixels.”
“Eh, knock it on the counter a time or two. Sure that’ll get it runnin’ again,” Dallas joked.
The two men laughed. Viktor shook his head, “I don’t think percussive maintenance applies here. But I’ll make sure it’s working by tomorrow, John.”
“Thanks, Vik. I gotta finish restocking and get out of here. Diane and I have a date tonight and I don’t want to be late,” John beamed as he pulled some candy boxes from behind the counter.
Viktor picked the sign up to give him room to set them down and started back to the technicians’ area, “Well, have fun. Don’t come in hungover!”
“Yeah, yeah… Have a good night yourself.”
Vik nodded and got the door for Dallas before they both disappeared into the back rooms of the restaurant.
Across the arcade, Tessa and Fritz were checking on one of the smaller, simpler animatronics that just cycled through some voice lines to greet and cheer on the kids. It was meant to resemble Balloon Boy, but after one too many hits it was needing some serious repairs.
“Jeezus… how did kids manage this??” Fritz asked, picking up the left arm that had been ripped off, “Actually… don’t- don’t answer that. I’ve learned kids have a habit of breaking just about anything.”
She nodded, “Yep. Keeps us in business. Jeez, the fiberglass got cracked to pieces on him…This thing was supposed to last years!”
One of the maintenance crew rolled up with a trash cart, “That a crack at the materials or the design?” he joked, “And do you want this one in the trash or in repairs?”
“Funny, Vince. Honestly…?” she sighed and took another look at the cracked fiberglass and ripped out wires, “Put it in repairs. I guess this is what my night’s going to be. Wish I could say we can trash it, but there’s a base installed in the floor for it so it’s not easy to get rid of.”
"Eh, they break it again we take the base out and put something else there," Vince shrugged and started hefting the broken off pieces onto his cart, "Honestly between Leyla and Ginny, I don't see the point in these things, plus we have staff members over here."
Fritz got to work at the base of the robot, taking out bolts that kept it in the floor, "Mr Emily said he was trying to diversify the animatronics? Show that not all of the ones we make are so complex? I dunno, but I agree, these things are redundant."
Tessa groaned and stood up to pop her back, “Get the bits back to repairs and wait for a bit on standby. I’m going to talk to Henry about it since we only had these things at the last location because of corporate thinking they were durable. Alec should be back there working on one of the arcade cabinets.”
Vince blinked, “He was… talking to Ginny in front of the Security office last I saw him? As he usually does.”
Fritz and Tessa gave each other a look, and she rolled her eyes, “Yeah. I’ll go find him after I talk to Henry. Unless you run into him first, Fritz.”
“Will do,” He waved his tool at her as she walked off, “Jeez. These things look ancient on the inside. This wiring structure is…”
“From the 80s? Yeah, as much as the three in charge have tried to update things, I think they’ve had their hands full with… other problems. So, if you’re planning on sticking around, try to lighten the load for them?” Vince’s expression seemed to hide a lot more weight to his words than he wanted to convey. He seemed to do that a lot, though.
Fritz nodded, serious. Whether either knew or not, they were taking those words seriously, “I know they have a lot on their plates. Tessa’s admitted that Mr Emily used to be a lot more involved In everything, but after what happened to…”
“Annora and Charlie. It hit him hard. He wasn’t prepared for the missing children after their deaths. It’s not talked about often, but… it’s the truth. He and William were both hit by personal tragedy and rapidly so. It’s why the three of them stepped up the way they did. Viktor and Chester were his friends from before this whole business started.”
“Right… You were working with them back then, right? And I guess through everything else that’s happened… It can’t be easy for any of you with those two kids who went missing recently,” Fritz flinched, “Sorry- I don’t mean to reopen any wounds or bring back bad memories or anything-” He quickly apologized, “That is, I mean-”
Vince patted his shoulder to stop him, “It’s fine. I was there for it, but… Well, I’m still here, aren’t I? I wasn’t in the thick of it, and maybe that’s why I refused promotions. I know they may not talk about it as much, but if you’re deeply curious, I won’t mind too much.”
“Heh… Thanks, Vince. It’s… odd sometimes. I feel like I came into a sort of culture I don’t fully understand yet, but I’m learning it because history… almost seems to be repeating itself. Or maybe not?”
“.... I hate that you might be right. But… I think you might be right. I just hope this time we catch whoever it is before there’s a whole trail of bodies.”
The younger man nodded solemnly. In silence, both went back to work. There wasn’t much they could do themselves at the moment. They could only help everyone else and keep an eye out for any clues. That didn’t stop Fritz from slightly eyeing Vince as he wheeled a full cart back into Parts & Service. The older man didn’t seem like he was the threat… But he had been at the past locations as well as this one…
He shook his head and readjusted his headphones. No, Tessa, Viktor, and Chester had reassured him. They’d checked Vince themselves. And after what he knew, he trusted their word immensely. No, if the person who’d committed the first string of murders was still here, it had to be someone else.
If it was the same person to begin with…
But he didn’t have those answers. And he had to wait for Tessa to answer the question on what they were doing with this broken robot. With the base finally off, he lifted it up and groaned when he heard a few pieces and parts clink out onto the floor. This was what he’d signed up for, after all.
Meanwhile, Tessa was knocking at Henry’s office door, “Henry..?”
The man looked up from a stack of files, “Hm? Tessa, what can I do for you?”
“Yeah, uh… remember those little greeter bots we had in the arcade area?” She stepped in and went to a chair.
“Mmh?” Henry looked back at one of the papers, skimming over the writing one more time before jotting something down.
“The, uh… the kids broke one and… I was wondering if we could replace them or just… get rid of them?”
He looked up now, “Broke- Broke? How badly..?”
“Eehh… looks like they threw the footballs at it from that touchdown game. Hard. One arm was torn off and I’m pretty sure Fritz is cleaning up internal parts while Vincent’s wheeling what we can gather back to P&S…”
“You have got to be kidding me… Can you get in touch with Shawn in purchasing then?” Several papers were shoved aside and another grabbed and rapidly written on.
“Uh, sure- But what for?”
“Well, if one is damaged that badly, the other won’t be far behind. You can try to fix it for some collector or other, but I’ve been trying to replace those things with an extra change machine and extra ticket counter for months now. Take the other one down and put them both in storage when the broken one is fixed.”
“Huh… Yeah, I’ll let Shawn know. Fritz, Vince, and I will get the pieces back and get it put together for… hopefully a decent home. I’m sure there’s plenty of buyers nowadays.” Tessa stood and started to leave before Henry stopped her.
“Hold on. There’s something else I need to talk with you about. If you’ll sit down and maybe glance over this while I explain?” He held up a slim folder with a few papers peeking out, “Granted, I”m fairly certain it’s going to be a short explanation.”
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Have you and the crew seen Mob Psycho 100? We LOVE it
⭐Evenin', anon!
I haven't watched Mob since season 1. I really need ta watch it again and then catch up. I know Tay liked it a lot.
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i got my kitty cat headphones and now i am completely unstoppable
#♥'( anyways I have to go make dinner in a bit but I'm around for the evenin' UvU )#♥' ( ooc )#♥'( i have the quartz pink keyboard + mouse from razer as well which matches a great deal of Pink Things my room )#♥'( nyanbinary crew rise up )
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Stark Hub After Dark
Pairings; Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader Ft. Pornstar!Steve x Pornstar!Reader, Pornstar!Dean x Pornstar!Reader, Pornstar!Sam x Pornstar!Reader
Warnings; Smut 18+ MINORS DNI! (fingering, oral both male&female receiving, gang bang, hair pulling, spanking, creampies.)
A/n; When i say who the hell let me attempt a gangbang, i mean who the hell so i should attempt a gangbang because if i thought writing three was hard, four men going in was not easy. For my supernatural boys i definitely channeled their inner demon filth, really wanted them to be vulgar and just overall filth. Any and errors gramtically are my own, this was not an easy installment to put together but i did it! NOW COME SCREAM AT ME AND TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PART!
All other work can be found on my masterlist in my Bio, but stay up to date with latest released works and WIPs by following @worldofausupdates!
The last scheduled film had wrapped for the night, many of the stars already gone for the evening, with the last of the crew straggling out the back doors to get home. Pepper is one of those that’s just barely making her way out when the phone on her desk is ringing, the noise piercing the quiet air
Pepper contains her groan, raising a brow at the ringing device; any other day and she might have dismissed the call altogether, but she also knew no one called stark entertainment this late if it wasn’t important. Dropping a sigh, her heeled feet carry her over to the phone sat on her oak desk, fingers curling around the receiver as she brings it to her ear.
‘Stark Entertainment, Pepper Potts speaking, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
A deep voice greets her, “Evenin, this is John Winchester with succubus films, awfully sorry for calling so late but was wondering if I could borrow a minute of your time.”
Pepper adjusts her stance, cocked hip rested up against her desk, “I’d say you’re already borrowing my time, is there a reason you’re ringing us this late?”
The deep voice chuckles, “There is actually,” comes his answer, “see I was hoping to get in contact with the manager of one of your stars.”
Her brows furrow, “get in contact with the manager of one of our stars – which star?”
“y/f/n, y/l/n.”
She’s standing up taller at the mention of your name, stance almost defensive as she looks at the calendar tacked on her wall, “May I ask the reason you need to speak to y/n’s management?”
John’s chuckling again, and Pepper can almost picture the smirk that she's sure is planted on his lips, “I can assure you I ain’t trying to sweep her up if that’s what you’re thinkin, but with the number of requests I've had for a star I ain’t ever heard of I can’t help but think that’s what I should be doing.”
“Well, I'm sorry to say but I don’t think my star has any interest in jumping from stark hub at the moment.”
Pepper can a hear a shift on the line, a squeak of the chair John sits on, “and she can stay right where she’s at, again I aint looking to sweep her up, but I am wanting to work with her, to work with stark entertainment - on a special project.”
“Special project, and what exactly did you have in mind?”
There’s more shifting on the line, a second of silence before John’s speaking again, “If you don’t mind this is a matter that I’d very much like to discuss in person - by chance are you and your star free tomorrow for lunch, my treat,” he adds.
Pepper catches the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, ���listen Mr. Winchester, -”
“Please call me John.”
“Listen John, I’ll agree to meet you, but it’s the star in question that will have the final say to your proposition should it be in her best interest, so I'll move some things around and we can meet you at 12 but I can make no promises as far as this project of yours getting the approval.”
“Course, wouldn’t expect anything less – say will Mr. Stark need to be in attendance,” he questions.
Her brows furrow, “If any of his stars had been involved yes my husband would have needed to be in attendance.”
John hums quietly, “can you please ask your husband if he can clear his schedule for lunch tomorrow as well, the project I had in mind does involve two of your husbands' stars.”
“Two of his stars,” she questions confused, John chuckles, “again this is a conversation I'd much rather be having in person – if you don’t mind,” he adds after a pause.
“Of course,” she murmurs hesitantly, “and before I forget where is it that you said we were meeting.”
He’s chuckling again, “There’s a diner not too far off from where stark hub industries is, figure I could go to you all, get on your star’s good side.”
“Right, well Mr. Winchester, I'll have to get into contact with my star and inform my husband of our meeting – again I cannot make any promises, but I will promise to meet with you, as that is all I can do on my end.”
“That’s all I can ask of you,” he replies, “thank you for picking up my call, I look forward to meeting with you tomorrow.”
“Likewise, you have yourself a good night.”
The call is ending with a single click, peppers placing the phone down onto the receiver, her hands going for the cellular device in the pockets of her cardigan.
She pulls up the conversation she has ongoing with you, her thumbs tapping away at the keyboard as she composes the message to you. Reading over it once more, she hits the arrow watching it get delivered to you, the ‘read’ appearing at the bottom not even a second later.
Bubbles pop up at the bottom where you type, but they disappear altogether, her screen flashing to your contact almost instantly, she’s pressing on the green button, bringing the device up to her ear.
“y/n, listen I’m -”
“Pepper, why is succubus films interested in me, do you have any idea who they are?” you question quickly cutting her off.
“I - wait, have you heard of succubus films?”
“Pepper succubus films is the highest ranking in alternative films,” you chastise, “they’re huge, they’re like Stark Hub but after dark!”
Peppers stunned, “Stark hub after dark huh – listen y/n I know it’s your day off but get out your best wine glasses, I'm coming over, you and I need to talk.”
“How did John Winchester even get in contact with you,” you question as you watch Pepper pour the two of you a glass of wine. She shakes her head as she pours, “I mean anyone can find contact information online now a days, but what surprised me was him asking specifically for you,” she answers eyes meeting yours as she passes you your glass. “Apparently your name has been appearing in the comments of his star’s videos enough so that he reached out with a proposition.”
You hum taking a sip of the wine, “did he mention what the comments were saying, what they were asking?”
Peppers shaking her head again, “If I'm being honest, he didn’t really give me much, all he said was that he wanted to meet with both of us for lunch tomorrow to talk about a project that he wanted to work with stark hub on, and then when I agreed he was suddenly asking if Tony could make it out as well.”
Confusion takes over your features, “Tony, he asked for Tony to join us,” you're questioning.
Peppers nodding as she takes a sip of her wine, letting her body mold to your couch, “but why, Tony’s not my management you are, the one he would need to get approval from to meet with me is you, is it not?”
Pepper’s nodding again, “thing is Tony manages the men of stark hub, so that’s why he would need to be in attendance or at least that’s what I told John Winchester and that’s when he asked if I could invite him to join us as well.”
“Wait so if he wants Tony there then that means -”
Peppers taking a quick sip of her wine, “he mentioned that if you agreed, two of Stark Hub's men would be involved, but he didn’t say which two stars, or to what degree they would be involved.”
Uncertainty begins to stir in your chest, “Pepper have you ever come across or seen a film by succubus films?”
Pepper’s shaking her head ‘no’, “the only other production companies' film that I have ever come across was the one produced by Hydra Films that had ‘involved’ you – why,” she questions noticing the wary look crossing your features.
You're leaning forward then to place the glass on your coffee table, your hand reaching for your cellphone. Pepper watches as you unlock your phone, seemingly searching something, it takes you all but a minute before you’re passing her your phone, succubus films on the screen. Pepper looks from your phone to you, “watch it,” you murmur holding your phone out for her. The strawberry blonde grabs it hesitantly, thumb hitting the play button as she takes in the dark screen.
Succubus films like stark hub seemingly gets straight to the point, they don’t seem to play with their sets like Hydra films does, the stars know what they need to sell; and it's like you mentioned in the phone call before Pepper had arrived, they’re like stark hub but after dark. Succubus films enjoys the darker styles, the alternatives ones you mentioned, they like to tie their women down, bound them, gag them, use their bodies for their own pleasure. It’s animalistic, it’s raw, its sex.
Pepper is drawn to the scene that succubus films has put together, as much as she wants to draw her eyes away, she can’t seem to avert them from the woman being tied down, her muffled screams of pleasure flowing from the built-in speakers of your phone. The dirty blonde, green-eyed built man that takes her from behind, has a grin as evil as sin, and the brunette with an equally strong build that fills her mouth, seems to mirror the sentiment. It’s only when the two break away from blonde petite girl to switch places that the spell pepper finds herself in finally breaks.
Your boss clears her throat as she passes you your phone back, your fingers locking the device as your eyes meet. “You know how we have cap and the soldier,” you question, “well succubus films has Dean and Sam Winchester, there’s never one without the other in any films that they’ve produced, and if I have any bet on what John Winchester is going to pitch tomorrow afternoon it's going to be those two, it has to be – but pepper I've never taken more than two partners, it's always ever been Bucky and Steve and I've only done it twice – he's already wanting to pitch two of Tony's stars and again if I'm right, he’s going to pitch Sam and Dean.”
Realization blindsides Pepper as she recalls the call from earlier with John Winchester, she’s shaking her head knowing that even you as a star had your limits to what you would agree too. “Y/n, we don’t have to agree to anything he pitches tomorrow if it’s not in your best interest,” she tries to reassure, “and I'm letting you know now, that if you don’t like what’s brought to the table he will be shut down immediately, no questions asked.”
She watches you worry at your lower lip, your hand going for the wine glass, “but what if it’s going to help stark hub numbers, what if it brings in viewers from succubus films that can continue to build our rating?”
Pepper reaches out a hand to lay it over yours, “there’s other ways we can still bring in those numbers and higher our ratings,” she answers, “and those viewers that you – the stars of stark hub bring in, you all know what works to drive those numbers.”
“I just wouldn’t want to pass on an opportunity.”
She squeezes your hand, sincere smile pulling at her lips, “and that’s something that you and I can decide tomorrow, I don’t want you worrying about it, we don’t even know that he’s going to pitch that.”
You bring the wine glass to your lips, downing what's left, “your right,” you say as you place the empty glass down, “we’re not sure that’s the idea he’s going to pitch so I shouldn’t worry, at least not till we’re sat down in front of him come tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s right,” pepper agrees, “and remember no matter what is brought to the table, you can always say no.”
You couldn’t say no.
Though you had known all along that you wouldn’t be able to say no; the thought alone plaguing you all through the night once pepper had left for the evening, and well up until you, Pepper, and Tony had walked into the diner you had promised to meet John Winchester at.
John Winchester, a silver foxed dream on legs; all suave charm, stunning smile, and a way with words. He was ever the gentleman as he took to his feet taking Tony in with a strong yet firm handshake, following that up with a firm press of his lips to not only Peppers but your cheek as well before helping you all into the booth’s seat across from him.
“I really would like to thank you all for agreeing to meet me here,” he begins, “and really Pepper thank you for answering my call last night and giving me this chance.”
Pepper offers him a warm smile, “Of course, it’s like I said over the phone I can definitely pull some strings to make this meeting happen but it’s my star, and my husband's stars that will have the final say in whether your proposition goes through.”
John’s nodding, offering a warm smile of his own, “right well speaking of propositions, I might as well get to why I asked you all here today.”
“That would probably be the best thing to do,” Tony agrees, drawing a smirk from the peppered man before you.
“Right,” he drawls, “well like I mentioned to your wife last night Mr. Stark,” he addresses, “very recently some subscribers of ours have been putting your stars name here in our comments.”
Tony raises a brow, “they have, and what exactly have the comments been saying about my wife’s star?”
“Well to put it in a less explicit manner that they did, a lot of them have been asking to see her with my boys Sam and Dean, they seem to think she’d be the perfect counterpart for my boys to take apart,” his eyes are taking you in, “can’t say I don’t agree,” he hums.
Pepper meets your eyes before she’s looking back at John, “so you’d like for Sam and Dean to work on a video with my star,” pepper questions, to which John nods, “so how does that bring in my husband and his two stars that you mentioned over the phone last night?”
John adjusts himself then, arms folding to the table as he gets in closer, “well aside from your star being mentioned in my comments many of those comments were also mentioning the soldier and captain, to which I assume you handle,” he answers directing the comment to Tony.
Tony’s nodding, “that’s right, cap and the soldier are under my management, but aside from them being mentioned in your comments, why are you asking for them, for my attendance here today, if it’s my wifes star in question.”
“I have quite a few pages of comments from both female and male subscribers asking for your star’s as well Mr. Stark,” John answers, “they all seem to want to see my boys, your boys, and your girl, in one shot together.”
“Y/n has never taken more than two partners at once Mr. Winchester,” Pepper speaks up, “and even then, there are somethings that my star has written off that would need to be consented with her, should she even agree to what you’re about to lay out on the table.”
“Mrs. Stark I may run an alternative film site, and our shots may be a little ‘rougher’ than what stark hub is used to putting out, but I can assure you that should my stars both male and female not consent to a scene it gets scrapped completely, our stars and their safety is always top priority.”
“While that is reassuring, again I'd really like to drive the point that my star has only taken two stars at once, and now you’re wanting us – no, wanting her to add two more stars to a scene.”
“While I am asking to add two more stars to the scene Mrs. Stark, I am in no way saying for them to all tear apart miss y/l/n at once, I'm not sure what you’ve seen of succubus films, but the most a star ever takes on is two men at once, no star of ours is ever asked to take more than two men simultaneously, should that be the case, the other men in question would take turns.”
That grabs your attention, “take turns, so like a gangbang?”
John eyes flit to yours a warm smile kissing his lips, “exactly kid, a gang bang, because if you ask me personally that’s the only way to decently have any actress take on more than two men that’s not comfortable with the thought of more than two partners at once.”
“So, is that what your stars do,” Tony questions pulling John's gaze from yours, “when they’re asked to take more than two of your male stars you title it a gang bang?”
“What other term would you like us to use,” John questions back, “besides it’s not like my star is taking all of them simultaneously, they’re taking turns tearing her apart.”
You can see Pepper visibly grimace at the way John says ‘tearing her apart’, “John,” she speaks up, “you must forgive us, despite the title that we hold in the porn industry we’ve never really had any of our female star's star in a gangbang, they’ve only ever taken two partners at once, with our more seasoned star widow taking three, and it never really crossed our minds to do more what with the rise of our starlet and the soldier, they’ve been our main focus.”
“My wife Pepper here is right,” Tony buts in, “while we know what a gang bang is and I'm sure many of our stars have seen films like that, we personally have not thought to delve into it choosing to work with what is building our numbers now.”
John seems to nod in understanding, “and I understand, all of your stars at stark hub know what sells, and you all sell it so well,” he directs at you, “your numbers should be enough to prove that to just about anyone, and that is why when I called yesterday, I mentioned this proposal as a special project,” Tony raises his brow, “I’d like succubus films to pop stark hubs gang bang cherry.” The table grows quiet as they take in the peppered man's proposition, “say we agree to this,” Tony speaks up first, “can I have you word that we do it only on the terms of my wife’s star?”
“Of course,” John nods almost instantly, “I nor my stars would do something y/n or your stars would be uncomfortable with, I know our films are more on the alternative side of things but like I said consent is very important to me, and if y/n isn’t comfortable with something being laid out, it's going to get scrapped entirely, I promise you have my word,” he directs towards you.
All eyes fall to you then, Pepper reaching for your hand to grab your attention, “y/n, what do you say?”
You look from Pepper to tony, to John, then back to Pepper before your glancing down at the single cup of coffee that been placed down in front of your earlier. Your eyes meet John Winchesters then your lips parting slowly, “yes.”
The air is tense in Pepper’s office, an unreadable expression on both Bucky and Steve’s faces as they take in the information Tony has just presented them after your earlier meeting with John Winchester.
Pepper is the first to clear her throat, lips parting to speak, “I know it’s a lot to take in,” she begins, “and it’ll be something new for not only the three of you, but for the future films of stark hub – this could be a good thing.”
“But a gangbang,” Bucky finally speaks, “we don’t even know the stars of succubus films and you just went and said yes,” he questions eyes meeting yours, “you’ve only ever filmed with rogers and I simultaneously and you’ve just agreed to taking on two more male stars, are you sure this is something you’re ready to do?”
“I wouldn’t be taking the four of you at once,” you answer poorly, “it will all be done to my terms, and my terms alone, and if I should become uncomfortable with any actions being performed than I am allowed to call a stop to all of it.” You know your words aren’t sitting well with the brunette despite the reassurance, his lips set in a thin line as he looks anywhere else but your eyes.
Steve decides then to step in, “will we at least be able to meet Sam and Dean,” he questions, “get to know them before we have to film with them, surely you guys will at least give us that right?”
Tony and Pepper are nodding at the question, “Of course, John will be bringing Sam and Dean hours before we are supposed to shoot to go over what boundaries you have and don’t have, he wants to make sure all stars on this film are comfortable, not only y/n - though she is our main concern for this film.”
“She’s your main concern,” Bucky retorts, “if she was your main concern don’t you think you would be giving her a week to get ready for a film like this? You're only giving her three days to prepare, and hours to get comfortable with men she’s never met before, it took you longer to let her film with me and we work for the same film site!”
“Look Barnes if you’re uncomfortable with the idea just say so,” Tony argues, “but like Pepper said this is something new for all of us, not just you, and it could be something good.”
Bucky’s scoffing, tongue sliding over his bottom lip as he looks at his manager, “something good, well I hope it’s good for all of you because you can count me out,” he mutters as he goes to stand.
Half the room is stunned into silence as Bucky stands, Steve’s hands reaching for his friend to stop him, pull him back down, but the brunette is brushing him off as he moves through the chairs, hand wrapping around the door knob as he makes his exit.
“Great going Stark,” Steve mutters, “Barnes was just looking out for y/n and her safety, he could care less about himself in regards to the pitch of the film and you know it.”
“Steve’s right Tony,” Pepper joins in, “there was no need for that comment towards Barnes, so either you fix it with your star or you call John Winchester himself and tell them we’re out because we’re not doing this without him, he asked for all three of them.”
Tony’s eyes catch yours hands flexing white as he grips the desk – waiting, “m’sorry tony, but if Barnes is out then so am I, the promise of being with two stars I'm most comfortable working with was the only reason I agreed to this film in the first place, I know they’ll take care of me - I trust them to take care of me.”
His jaw locks, tongue running over the skin of his cheek as he looks at you and Steve, your half expecting him to apologize but you’ve come to know the man that stands next to your manager and he isn’t the type to pass one out right away.
“Friday,” comes his reply, “I expect the two of you to be ready by Friday – Barnes presence or not,” he throws in as he pushes off his wife's desk rounding it as he makes his way to the door.
“Tony,” Pepper warns but the man can’t be bothered as he pulls open the door making his way out into the hall.
The office falls quiet again as the door shuts behind Tony, Steve being the first to speak after a minute, “I think the idea is great for numbers, and you’re right Pepper it might be a good experience, I just think we all needed a little heads up for it,” he’s looking at you then, hand falling to your shoulder as he squeezes, “and as for Bucky I'm sure he’ll come around, at least I hope he does, and if not, well you got me, and you know I'll make sure you're comfortable and safe.”
You're offering him a smile, one that you know doesn’t quite reach your eyes as an uncertainty for your decision begins to settle over you. Did you really make the right decision? “Thanks Stevie – and hey you should go find Barnes before Stark does, you know that won’t go well if Tony finds him before you do.”
Steve’s giving you a nod as he goes to stand, “I'll see the two of you Friday then,” he throws in before he’s dismissing himself from the office leaving only you and Pepper.
Pepper and you lock eyes then, “just give me the word and you know I'll call quits to all of this y/n,” she offers, “I know you said yes to John but I'm sure his word will still stand and he’ll call quits to all of it before we can even begin filming.”
“Do you think he’ll come around before Friday?”
Pepper sighs as she leans on her desk hands crossing, “If I'm honest Bucky has never walked out the way he did today – or at least I've never been witness to it so I can’t be sure, but the way he mentioned you before he walked off, well I can only hope we’ll see him Friday morning.”
“And if he doesn’t,” you question.
Pepper raises a brow, “you don’t want to call the film off do you?”
You're heaving a heavy sigh, “I know what good this could be for the site, for us, and it just wouldn’t be right for me to pass on it – look at what I did to finally get my chance with the soldier Pep, it just wouldn’t be me if I passed on this due to being short my favorite counterpart.”
Pepper understands having at the time watched you from the sidelines work your way through some of the finest stars of stark hub, you worked your way through the ranked stars even having stalled because Tony had been so dismissive of your requests to work with the soldier until she herself had shown her husband just how well your numbers were doing compared to the others.
“So what would you like me to do,” she questions.
She watches you mull over your next step, the she sees it, the ‘aha’ moment that flashes across your features, “is there any way you can catch Wilson and Barnes in the same room before Friday?”
Your bosses brows furrow, “Well of course I can Sam, Steve and Bucky all share one dressing room as per their requests – why?”
“Ask Wilson if he’ll be Bucky’s stand in, but make sure Bucky is in the room when you ask him.”
“y/n what exactly are you trying to do,” Pepper questions brow raised.
A tiny smile curls at your lips, “trying to fix your husbands mistakes, so will you do it?”
A mirrored smile pulls at her lips, as she pushes off her desk, “I'll see you Friday, and so will Barnes,” she throws in, smile curving, “so go home, get some rest this week and come Friday morning I better see you in makeup and wardrobe ready to take some cock.”
“Pepper, I never thought I would see the day I heard you say cock,” you grin as you stand.
The blonde throws an arm over your shoulder as she leads you out of the office, “well I'm learning from the best,” she laughs, “now get out of here, I got a gloomy brunette to go find!”
“You don’t think the blush is too much?”
The brush fanning over your cheeks stops altogether, Claire eyeing you down from where she stands between your legs, “who’s the artist here, you or me?”
“Well, I suppose it depends on the art being performed,” you throw back with a pointed stare.
The brush continues to fan over your cheek, “trust me y/n the light you’ll be working under today is going to wash you out, the little amount of blush your used to just isn’t going to cut it.”
“Will it even matter, if it’s all going to be smudged by the end of my shoot?”
The brush once more is stilling over your cheek, meeting it with a soft pat, “one more word out of you and I'm sending you off the chair with half a face.”
“You wouldn’t dare Claire; you know I'd be sitting here a second later,” you retort, at that your met with another soft pat to your cheek, “you nervous,” she questions.
You go quiet, letting her continue to fan the brush over your cheek, “somewhat,” you finally answer after a beat, “I'm not sure what’s getting me more though, the thought of what exactly we’re going to be filming, or the new faces that I'm meeting minutes before.”
Claire hums under her breath, “what we’re doing here today is new, I think everyone, even those not joining in on the film are surprised that we’re doing something like this, but if anyone’s going to take on a project like this and knock it out of the park, it's definitely going to be you.”
A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, “you think so,” you question receiving a nod in response, “I remember your first debut with the soldier, you were so nervous going in you left a mark of sweat on my seat.”
Your grinning, “you sure it was sweat,” you question coyly which earns you a laugh, “there she is,” she takes a seat on the chair before you, hands falling to your bare legs, “you’re going to do amazing on that set tonight, and just watch those subscribers there at succubus films after watching are gonna come crawling on over just for another look at you.”
“Can I take you to set with me?”
Claires putting a hand to her chest in faux hurt, “and watch four men destroy all my hard work?”
A laugh slips from your lips, “I promise they won’t destroy it that bad, maybe just the mascara and the lipstick.” She raises a brow, “you’ve seen yourself after a set with the soldier and cap right, your lashes are barely intact by the end of the film, like honestly what is Bucky doing to you?”
“Showing her a good time hopefully.”
Claires eyes are slotting over your shoulder a smile curling at her lips, “m’sure it's more than a good time with the state you leave her in Barnes – it's good to see you, you come to get y/n already?”
You bring yourself to look over your shoulder then letting a smile pull at your lips, he was here.
“Yeah, Pepper asked me if I would mind coming for her, we just finished meeting with Sam and Dean, good guys,” he adds as he meets your eyes continuing to close the distance between the two of you, “set though, it's definitely something new, but it’s a good new.”
He stops a foot short of the two of you, a silence falling over the three of you, a beat passes then Claire clearing her throat as she shifts, “well I'll leave the two of you too it,” her eyes move to Bucky as she stands, “make sure y’all don’t mess her up to bad.”
Bucky’s chuckling low, “no worries Claire, you know she’s gonna be in good hands, I'll make sure of it.”
Claire’s leaving the two of you with a comforting squeeze to your shoulder and a promise that you tell her all about it before your next set. Bucky’s offering you a hand then, helping you slide from the makeup chair that you were perched in. He lets out a low a whistle as his eyes rake over your barely clothed form, the laces of your heel winding high up the expanse of your exposed legs.
Warmth settles in your cheeks, a heat curling in your gut, “you like what you see Barnes, m’honestly surprised you’re here, thought Wilson would be taking your spot today.” A small smile curls at the corner of his mouth, a deep chuckle brewing in his chest as he pulls you in, “you really think I would have given Wilson my spot, man wouldn’t have let me hear the end of it had I told Pepper yes.”
“Is that why you’re here,” you find yourself asking, “because Sam wouldn’t have let you live it down?”
You can see the tick in Bucky’s jaw, “course it’s not, Sam wasn’t the one I was concerned about, I’m here for you, I'm here because I want to make this good for you.”
Something warm settles in your chest, a smile pulling at your lips, “did you guys settle on a line up for who goes first?”
His brows furrow in question, “we were going to wait till I brought you to set discuss that, why?”
You bring a hand between the two of you, fingers running along his jaw, dancing down to his chest, “because I want you to be my last.”
You’re flanked on each side of the black velvet couch you’re sat on, a heavy calloused hand sits on one thigh holding you open, while the other hand is buried between your legs two fingers pressed into your heat stretching your walls.
Your eyes want to slip shut, let yourself freefall into the pleasure coiling in your groin, but he holds your gaze ocean greys, nearly black as he and cap watch the other party work you open.
“a pretty little thing isn’t she,” the green-eyed Winchester hums from beside you, “always so good, so ready to please, isn’t that right sweetheart?”
You don’t answer quick enough for the youngest Winchester with kaleidoscope eyes, his large hand meeting the soft skin of your thigh rather harshly a sharp contrast to the pleasure still building inside of you. Your head is snapping to his; wide eyed and parted red lips. He looks displeased as he speaks, “he asked you a question,” he leans in fingers gripping skin, “answer - now.”
You're swallowing the knot in your throat, head turning slowly to meet the eyes of the eldest brother, he raises a brow waiting for the answer you should have given from the start. “Yes sir.”
His fingers continue to pump in and out, the soft squelch of your slick meeting the still quietness of the room. He hums pleased with your answer, a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips, “you see wasn’t so hard was it, you like to be good don’t you,” he questions, “want you to show my pals here just how good you can be, think you can do that for me?”
This time your verbal answer comes without hesitation, your eyes sliding back to those ocean greys. There's a tick that rests in his jaw, likely from the slap of skin meeting skin earlier, though he had promised before filming began that he would make sure you weren’t hurt, there was some instances in which you knew there would be pain inflicted for pleasure, for views.
Dean’s fingers slid from your wet cunt then, slick coating his two digits, he brings them to your lips, “open,” your lips part, tongue slipping from your mouth to meet his fingers, “close.” He purrs delightedly as he watches you clean yourself off his fingers, a tangy, yet sweet taste coating your tongue. It's all so new; yes, you had tasted yourself on the soldier's tongue before, his tongue dancing sweetly with yours, but your taste had never hit like this.
“Trying to share you with my pals,” he husks, “but kind of want you all to myself now, show them how good you can be before they get a taste of you for themselves.”
Dean disregards any answer that lays on your tongue, eyes meeting his brothers as he gives him a look. Sam has obviously seen this look before because the hand that isn’t resting – gripping your thigh finds the back of your head to force you forward. “On your knees,” he grits as he pushes you off the velvet couch.
Your knees hit the floor first, the fall anything but graceful but you know it wasn’t meant to be.
“Easy there soldier,” you hear Dean husk from behind you, “can assure you my girls not new to being on her knees before.”
The soldier's jaw is tense, eyes darkening over completely as he looks at the men behind you, “m’sure she isn’t but I think the two of you need a lesson on how to actually treat a woman.”
Sam’s laughing next to you, chuckle throaty, “maybe you’re not treating your girl the way she really wants to be treated, but why not let us show you.” You can feel dean shift forward at his brothers' words, and it's not long before he makes you aware of his presence his hand finding the back of your neck tilting your head back towards him. His eyes are already on yours, pink lips curled upwards as he looks down at you.
His other hand grips your chin rather roughly, tilting your to face him as he gets his lips on you for the first time since you met him not even thirty minutes ago. It’s all teeth and tongue as he really kicks things off, there’s no slow dancing, no tiptoeing around one another, its hot and its fast.
You let yourself get lost in the kiss, letting yourself get a feel for your new counterpart, but it's not long till you feel the other brother join in, his hand finding your chest, pulling – no ripping at the fabric that concealed your chest.
The chill of the room is instant, nipples hardening as the fabric falls away entirely. “Look at these tits,” he grunts by your ear, “can’t wait to get my mouth on these.” You pop away in a sloppy gasp from dean’s mouth as Sam follows through on his promise of getting his mouth on your chest.
“Thought I was the tits guy in the family,” dean chuckles the warmth of his breath fanning over your cheek as he holds you in place.
Chopped moans of pleasure spill from your lips as Sam ravishes your breasts with his mouth, tongue licking over your smooth skin as he pays special attention to each one. “Look at her, she loves it – hey Sammy why don’t you show our friends here just how much she loves it.”
You can feel the shaggy brunette grin against your skin, his hands dipping down between your thighs to spread them open, from the way you’re kneeled it makes for easy access to get down between your legs, his fingers pulling your lace panties to the side, as he dips two fingers into you folds spreading you out to expose the slick shine pulled in your heat. Sam’s groaning against your chest, teeth nipping at the skin he can get too, “she’s fucking wet dean, need to get my mouth on her, see if she tastes as good as she feels.”
A deep chuckle builds in Deans chest as he presses a wet kiss to your cheek, head dipping as he tilts your neck to lick and nip at the skin there. Your moans are breathy, pussy throbbing with want as you let the brothers ravish your body.
“You know Sammy I invited cap and the soldier here to see how good she could be, how good we could give it to her, I think it's only fair we let them join in, can’t be the only ones having fun now.”
The noise Sam lets out is akin to a growl of frustration, his movements even quicker as he stands grabbing you like a rag doll as he pulls you up and over his shoulder. His strides are smooth as he moves to the couch that was across from where you sat previously, letting your body fall to the floor right between the soldier and cap.
Sam looms over the three of you, Dean closing the distance between himself and the group just as gracefully as Sam dropped you to the floor. “Feel free to get your hands on any part of her you’d like but that mouth is mine,” he grins, he slaps his brothers arm then, “don’t get too greedy now, m’sure my pals here want a taste as well, don’t you,” he questions eyes meeting the soldiers.
Sam’s hands guided you back down onto the cool floors of the set, his body slipping between your legs to rip at the flimsy fabric that concealed your heat, his mouth all but enveloping you. The mewls that slip from your lips are all but short lived as Dean drops to his knees next to your head. You hear the telltale of a zipper being pulled down, the tops of his black slacks falling open revealing bare skin and a hard cock.
His eyes twinkle as they catch your line of sight, “always like to come prepared sweetheart, don’t like to really fret over wearing boxers,” he adds as he crawls in closer, cock now pulled out from the confines of the black slacks. “Open that mouth for me, let me feel how good Sammy’s eating that pussy out.”
Your lip's part at the command and Deans wastes no time in sliding into your mouth, his head falling back as he sheathes himself into your hot, wet, mouth “fuck that feels so good, this mouth was made for taking cock,” he grunts giving a tentative thrust once he’s fully seated inside.
The groan Sam pulls from you goes straight to Dean’s cock, and the once tentative thrusts of his hips, become quick little jabs into your mouth. Tears are quick to pull into your eyes, spit dripping from your mouth to coat over Deans cock. “Sammy,” he groans as he fucks into your mouth, “whatever you're doing down there, don’t stop.”
The vibration of Sam’s chuckle has you rolling your hips into his mouth chasing the pleasure his tongue brings you. A whine almost leaves your full lips when he pulls his mouth away to speak, “don’t think she wants me to stop either, what did you say about not being greedy?”
A groan is leaving deans lips as he gets his hands around your head holding you in place as he really fucks into you, “few more minutes Sammy, besides,” he grunts, “maybe then they’ll be so worked up for her they’ll give it to her the way she deserves.”
Your mouth is sore by the time Dean pulls away, mascara and spit coating your face in streaks as he sits back on his haunches to get a look at you. “All fucked out and messy,” he murmurs as he wipes at your face, “you think you can be good for the soldier sweetheart, open that mouth up for him like you did for me, get him real nice and sloppy for him to fuck you?”
The thought of the soldier being within arm's reach is enough to have you nodding eagerly like the whore that he calls you. Dean shifts over beckoning the soldier to drop to his knees by you. The soldier seems just as eager as you are, his pants already pulled low around his hips, cock held in his hand as he gives himself a few strokes.
You have half a mind to reach out and swat his hand away, “she must really like your cock,” you hear Dean mention, though your mind scratches like a record when an all too well-known bearded face falls between your legs his tongue delving into your heat like a man starved.
When had Sam and Cap switched?
It's not long before the soldier is chasing his own pleasure, his cock lining up with your parted lips, a cock you take all too eagerly down. “it’s because she knows what she likes,” you hear the soldier groan an answer to an earlier question from the green eyed man parked next to him.
You know the soldiers smug at your eagerness to please and be pleased by the men who have taken the spots of the previous. You also know that it doesn’t sit to well with the green-eyed Winchester as he decides to move things along.
All too soon cap is being pulled from your wanting, yet sensitive heat only to be replaced by the first cock of the evening.
Dean’s sets a brutal pace as he fucks into your slick heat, no longer is there an eagerness to please, more of a release to be chased. The grip he has on you is hard enough to have you pulling off the soldiers' cock as your groans of pleasure fill the sets room. “What was that you said about her knowing what she likes,” dean questions cockily, “seems like she’s not too sure.”
He wants a reaction from the soldier, wants the pleasure he’s bringing to you, the screams he’s pulling from you to get to the soldier, it does, but he’s not the only one aching for a turn.
It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it's all too much and not enough all at once, there’s hands gripping at your body, cocks being shoved in your face, pressed into your hands, and in your daze of pleasure you take them all.
“Fuck look at her,” dean grunts as his thrusts become erratic, the overwhelming urge to cum taking hold, “barely taking her first cock and she's already so hung up on cock she can’t even think straight can you sweetheart?” You're letting out a groan over a mouthful of cap’s cock, “that’s alright,” he grits out, hands gripping your hips tighter, “just take what we give you like the good girl you are, gonna take this cum and keep you plugged up with it.”
The thought has you shuddering as another orgasm washes over you, the first load of cum painting your walls. Deans only barely fallen back onto his haunches when Sam is sliding in matching his brothers' thrusts. Unlike Dean, Sam’s thumb is swiveling over your clit almost instantly the need to chase his end as great as the need to bring you to yours.
The hands are back again, your mouth empty as Cap falls closer to Sam waiting eagerly for his turn. You know it won’t be long before he’s occupying the spot the shaggy brunette currently occupies. “You should feel her,” Sam gets out through a groan, his own end closing in on him, “not used to having a pussy as wet and sloppy as hers but fuck she’s still so fucking tight, aren’t you?”
The words die on your tongue as white spots fill your vision, your own end washing over you in a wave of pulses, “FUCK,” Sam moans as your pussy squeezes his cock like a vice, milking him for every last drop of cum.
You want to turn away then, to roll away from the wandering hands, and gentle touches, you want to call cut but then Cap is getting ahold of you, his warm hands coaxing you open for him, his cock sliding in slowly inch by inch tills Hes sheathed and seated inside of you. Tears pool in your eyes, your pussy all too sensitive to the touches and stretch of another cock filling you.
A hand lands on your cheek drawing your eyes open to find a pair awaiting ocean greys. “Doing so good for us sugar, been taking us all so well, bet your so full.” Your humming in response, lips parting as Cap brings you to another peak of blinding pleasure. “Keep those eyes on me,” he murmurs, thumb running over your cheek, “want to see how pretty you look when you cum.” For a moment it feels like a regular scene, a scene with only you, the cap, and the soldier. The cum dripping from your pussy and onto the wooden floor reminds you otherwise.
“Fuck,” you hear cap groan, “m’not gonna last much longer, need you to come with me, wanna feel you squeeze this cock.” It’s the soft praise from the soldier that has you falling over the edge with Cap, you vision blurring as wave after wave of pleasure consumes you and take you under.
A body covering your own brings you back, your eyes slip open dazily as you take in the soldiers concerned features that only you can see from this angle. “How are you doing,” he questions as he slips into your heat, “you need me us to stop?” You’re shaking your head, arms and legs wrapping around the burly brunette, “don’t stop,” you find yourself breathing, “want you, needed you.”
The soldier leans down his forehead connecting with your own, breathing you in as he gives a tentative roll of his hips. His cock drags in and out of you, at a slow toe-curling pace. Your body writhing against his as your heels dig into his ass to press him closer to you, you need to feel him, you want to feel all of him as he presses in deep.
The soldier senses your urgency changing the angle up on the two of you as he unwraps your legs from his waist, hauling one over his shoulder the other gripped tightly in his hand as he spreads you out. This angle gets him in deeper, a gasp catching in your throat, “fuck,” you moan, “fuck right there,” you gasp.
You didn’t know you had any more in you.
“You like that, it feel good” he grunts thrust jarring you, “gonna take another load,” he hums, “can’t wait to watch it drip out of you, get all messy for me.”
Your eyes roll back at his promised words, “please soldat, give me all your cum, wanna feel you spill inside of me.”
Out of the corner of your eye you can see clint and the crew move behind Bucky the other stars having cleared the space for them to get in. You want to cry in relief at the telltale sign of a nearing end.
A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit has you shouting out his name in a breathy moan.
Your back arches, thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure wash over you for a final time. The soldier continues to push into you, harsh breaths falling from his lips dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling from his lips as he falls over you once more. He slumps forward his face falling into your neck as he takes in a shuddering breath. Though it doesn’t last too long as he slips out of you falling onto your side to give clint and the Winchesters their award winning cum shot.
A lazy and fucked out grin tugs at your lips at Clints low whistle, “never seen so much cum,” you hear him say through your daze, “definitely never thought I'd see the day she didn’t shy away – and that’s a wrap y’all cut the check!”
The set is a low buzz of commotion as the wrap up is called, Sam, Dean, and John all stopping by your still strewn form on the floor to thank you for a great set, and with the promise that you would be up for another film soon. You were sure what came out of your lips was unintelligible as pepper quickly swooped in for the save, promising the men as she walked them off the set to contact them when she thought you’d be ready for another round.
“Ready for another round,” Bucky hums in thought from next to you pulling your gaze towards him, “I don’t even think I'm ready for another round and I'm not even the one that got fucked.”
That pulls a laugh out of you, a groan accompanying it as you rolled over lazily onto your side to face him fully, “not sure I want another round of that,” you answer. Bucky leans over propping himself onto his elbow his finger brushing the hair from your face, “you wouldn’t do something like this again?”
You're shaking your head, “while I don’t mind it, I think I prefer having you as my first, and my last.” A grin tugs at Bucky’s lips, his body dipping forward as his lips meet yours for the first time that evening, “know you’re not ready for another round, but what about a shower, you think you’re ready for that?”
Your smiling into his lips, “as long as you’re there.”
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#pornstar!au#pornstar!bucky#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic
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Pick Your Poison (Deviance Series - Part 1)
Pairing: Jim Hopper x OFC
Word Count: 3.4K
Summary: Hop does a bunch of coke and bangs his bartender. That’s really all this is.
Warnings: Alcohol & Drug Abuse, Car Sex, Hop Is Riding The Hot Mess Express. 18+ only, no minors.
A/N: I wrote this a thousand years ago but I just rewatched Black Widow and my David Harbour/Hop Daddy problem has returned in full force. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Hopper’s at the bar again. Not The Hideaway—the other one. The Hideaway is a cop bar. Not strictly a cop bar, mind you, but it’s where the Good Guys go to drown their sorrows. On the other side of this very small town sits Harley’s: the haunt of the Bad People who don’t want to be seen doing whatever it is that they’re doing. If there were train tracks in Hawkins, Harley’s would be on the wrong side of them.
The first time Hawkins’ new Chief of Police walked into the bar everyone in the place tensed up. The regulars were ready to fight or flee, but the Chief spoke to no one, got shitfaced by himself in the corner, and after a few hours worth of Schlitz and well whiskey, he made his way to the parking lot to vomit in a trashcan—unassumingly, and with dignity, like a Real Fucking Man. There is an unspoken code: what goes on at Harley’s stays at Harley’s. And so Jim Hopper was Bad Cop by night and Good Cop by day, and it suited everyone just fine.
Hopper has to count the days on his fingers but his original estimate was correct: today marks two weeks straight of drowning the end of his days in Harley’s liquor. He knows this is no longer a normal and reasonable response to his grief. He knows he’s spiraling out of control again and he should clean up and dry out. He has no delusions about the damage he is doing to himself but self-awareness isn’t nearly enough to make him stop—not anymore.
To put it plainly, it all just hurts too much.
Part of the reason Hop moved back to Hawkins was to get his shit together, but it’s been a few months now and things have gone from bad to worse. He’s on the verge of forgetting what it’s like to be a fully functional person—responsible, one of the Good Guys. And what’s worse is that it’s almost liberating to care about nothing and no one, including (and perhaps especially) himself.
His hand is shaking, hidden in his coat pocket. He needs a drink and soon. He takes a seat at the bar and nods at the bartender. She knows the drill: Schlitz and whiskey, and keep em comin.
Jill is working tonight. He’s always liked Jill, ever since she was a gangly kid sniffing around his crew back in the day—when they were the Gods of Hawkins High, untouchable, and nothing bad was ever going to happen to them. Hop was always nice to her then but she was far too young to be hanging around. He’d told her so on more than one occasion and she eventually she got the hint. After graduation he didn’t see her for years until a few months ago, when he walked into Harley’s for the first time and saw her slinging drinks for the town trash. She’d smiled at him, and poured him a whiskey with a beer back before he’d even reached the bar.
“Evenin, Chief,” she says. “Beer or whiskey or both?”
Hopper smiles back at her. “You know.”
Jill grabs a can of Schlitz from the icebox and slides it down the bar with a smile. While she’s pouring Hopper’s whiskey, she wonders if she can get him in the sack tonight. Hop’s been flirting with her for the past few days, which is a nice change from the silent, brooding drunky thing he was doing for a while. She can’t really blame him, though. She’d heard what happened back in Indianapolis. Everyone had. Something like that in a town this small? The poor guy brought all of it with him. He never really had a chance.
Tonight he’s acting different. Not as world-weary somehow. In the periphery she sees him pop a Dexedrine. It’s not the first time she’s caught him medicating himself on the sly but Jill doesn’t judge. She’s no stranger to that particular variety of self-help. At this very moment she’s got a vial of coke burning a hole in the back pocket of her jeans. It’s 9:30 and she’s already dying for a taste, but it’s not a problem yet—not really. She tells herself she only uses on worknights to make it through till close.
She almost believes it, too.
Jill hands Hopper his whiskey and leans over the bar. She adjusts herself just so to make sure her moneymakers are on display. She knows her angles. She knows what the people want. She also knows he’ll look, and he does.
“This round’s on me, Chief.”
“You don’t have to do that.” His voice is especially rough today, like he’s been yelling. Jill wonders what he looks like when he’s that kind of angry.
“A small thank you from the community,” she says, “for all the servin’ and protectin’ you do.”
“Just doing my job,” he says. “But thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“You wouldn’t by any chance be trying to butter me up, would you Jill? Maybe because that liquor license of yours expired three months ago?”
“It’s not my liquor license. I don’t own this dump.”
“Well how bout you tell the boss man to get on it, alright? I can put it off, but only for so long.”
“So,” she says, “you’re a cop tonight?”
“I’m always a cop, just not always a good one.”
She laughs and says, “give a holler when you’re empty,” and then she walks away.
Her hips are swaying probably more than they should be but Jill doesn’t care about putting on a show for the Chief. She’s already got a reputation—one she earned a long time ago—and even though she hasn’t been laid in months, in Hawkins that kind of thing never really goes away. Jill Lambert, Town Tramp. She accepts it because she doesn’t have the cash to move somewhere far away and reinvent herself, like Hopper did, or at least tried to do.
She wasn’t always a bad girl. She used to be awkward and too tall for her age and flat as a board on both sides. She looks down the bar at Hopper and remembers how it felt to watch him and his friends screwing around in the high school parking lot, the prettiest girls on their arms, on their way to some party or bonfire or other Cool Kid Thing that she would never be invited to. Back then it seemed like there was a lifetime between middle school and high school but now the five-year difference between them seems like nothing. They are both past their prime. Numbers are irrelevant.
He’s almost empty and that was quick even for him. She approaches with a refill. She doesn’t need to be asked.
She’s not unattractive, he thinks, just not in mint condition. Jill is worn and used—like an old leather couch—and she looks much older than she is. It’s not a nice thing to think about a woman and he’d never say it out loud but it’s true. The bad red dye-job, the overdone makeup, thin but in that drugged-out way—it’s not a look that anyone can pull off but she owns it in a way that’s attractive to him. At the very least, it’s honest. And no offense to her but right now just about any hole will do. During the course of his first round of drinks Hopper has decided that, in addition to flushing it out with booze, on this particular evening he wants to fuck his pain away. It’s Wednesday—the almost almost weekend—and he feels like tying one on and seeing what happens next.
He knows that Jill will most likely fuck him if he asks. At the very least, she’ll blow him. On the off chance that she’s not interested, Hopper is confident he can find someone to get him off. It certainly hasn’t been a problem for him so far. Every couple of weeks he gets that urge and finds a warm, wet place to stay a while. Then he moves on— sometimes after a couple of times, but it’s mostly one-night stands. Hopper knows that leaving a trail of angry women in a small town is probably not the brightest idea but it’s Hawkins and he’s the goddamn chief of police. If he wants to fuck the entire town, it’s his town to fuck.
He’s Jim Fucking Hopper and he’s the fucking man.
Jill says, “Here you go, Chief,” and puts a fresh beer and double whiskey on the bar in front of him.
“Thanks, doll.”
She smiles wide. He thinks to himself that she has distractingly great tits and tries to listen while she’s talking but it’s harder than it should be. He’s not that drunk. Not yet.
“So,” she says, “how is it being back in Hawkins? I thought you were smarter than to come back to this shit heap.”
“I wasn’t planning on it but, you know, life…” He trails off and takes a monster swig of his beer, then he lights a cigarette. “You’re lookin’ real good these days, Jill. You doing that Jazzercise shit or something?”
“More like ‘or something.’”
Hopper knows it’s the coke that keeps her trim but he wants her to know that he’s looking. He also wants her to know that he knows she keeps a stash at work. He’s not trying to bust her for it; he just wants a taste. The pills aren’t hitting him like they used to and he wants to feel alive tonight. He also can’t get the thought of snorting coke off her tits out of his head, so he may as well just go for it.
He blows a cloud of smoke into the air.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief.”
She knows exactly what he’s talking about: he wants some. At the very least, he wants her drugs, but she thinks he might want something more.
“C’mon, Jill.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“Can’t say that I do, Chief.”
Suddenly he’s all business.
“Don’t play fuckin coy with me. The coke in your pocket. Now.”
She has a moment of sheer panic, thinking that maybe she has completely misinterpreted this situation. Her whole body is tense and still and he just watches her, with no discernible emotion on his face. She shoves her hand in her back pocket and closes it around the vial and when she drops it in his open palm he smirks at her. It’s a look that screams authority—he is in control here and she’s ready to do whatever he tells her to do.
“What happens now?” she whispers.
“That is entirely dependent on you,” he says, and then he smiles so big it scrunches up his whole face. “You gonna share?”
She exhales the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “You’re an asshole, Hopper.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Give me a fuckin heart attack, why don’t you?”
He chuckles and it’s endearing even though she’s still kind of pissed. He’s wearing a full-face smirk. She has no idea how he does that but it’s really fucking hot.
“I’m just fucking with you, Jill.”
He makes his way down off the stool, half drunk and clumsy, and for a minute it seems he might lose his balance. He recovers with some grace before he downs the rest of his whiskey—a little too much for one glug, she thinks, but it doesn’t show on his face. Even drunk as shit, he’s a pretty smooth operator, and now that she can see his ass testing the limits of the fabric of his pants, Jill is feeling him everywhere. She’s ready to do whatever it is Chief Jim Hopper tells her to do.
“Bathroom,” he says. “Two minutes.” He taps the face of his watch twice. “Starting now.”
He walks away and she doesn’t even try not to stare. When the bathroom door closes behind him she whispers a quiet “fuck.” This whole thing seems like the kind of scenario she would think up in the early morning hours, in bed but too fucked up to sleep. The current situation isn’t far from some of the fantasies she’s had about Hopper: the kinky shit with the handcuffs and the roleplay, where she’s been a bad girl and she needs the Chief’s particular brand of punishment.
She scans the room and makes sure to top off everyone who needs it before she heads to the bathroom.
“You’re late,” he says, and then he grabs her hips and backs her into the wall.
He presses his wide body against hers. He’s like a wall of man and she couldn’t move if she wanted to. She doesn’t, though. Not at all, and when he tugs her shirt and bra down and buries his face between her tits she lets out a moan that’s just a bit too loud. He looks up at her and presses a finger to her lips.
“Quiet,” he whispers, and then he takes out the vial.
He examines her breasts and picks his favorite, holding it just hard enough in his hand as he taps out a small mountain of blow. His scruff is rough against her nipple as he dives in nose first and then licks her skin clean. He’s being careless with her stash but she doesn’t care that half of it ends up on the floor because Hopper looks good when he’s messy. He’s lightly powdered from the nose down and he’s sweating out liquor and he’s gone almost completely red in the face. Despite all of it, or maybe because of it, he’s the most attractive man that’s ever laid hands on her. He’s definitely the sloppiest, dirtiest, most unhinged piece of ass she has ever had, but fuck if she can deny him one bit of what he wants, which is, apparently, everything.
“Turn around,” he says, and when she does he starts to grind against her.
She watches him in the mirror as he taps a bump into his palm and presents it to her.
“Your turn,” he says. “Go on.”
He doesn’t have to tell her twice. She snorts hard and licks up the rest. They watch each other in the mirror, and when she starts sucking his fingers into her mouth he closes his eyes and curses. He’s half hard against her now and she reaches around to palm him through his pants. He’s as thick as one would expect him to be and she lets out a little giggle because of course he’s got a big one.
“Find something you like?” he asks.
She releases his fingers with a pop. “Yeah.”
“Meet me at my car in 5 minutes. I’m parked out back.”
“My break isn’t until 12.”
“Take it fucking early, Jill, Jesus.”
“Make it 10.” she says. She squeezes out from under him and pulls her shirt back up. “And wash your face. You’ve got about a kilo stuck in your beard.”
He laughs and smacks her on the ass. “Ten minutes, Jill.”
She leaves him to get cleaned up and as she walks back up to the bar she scans the room. If anyone noticed anything, they are minding their business. It’s the Harley’s way and she’s thankful for it.
Hopper leans against the Blazer and lights a second cigarette off his first one. He’d forgotten how much he fucking loves cocaine, which is something that should have stayed forgotten, but it’s too late now. That’s a problem for another time. The immediate problem is the small group of stoners smoking a joint in the woods behind the employee lot. He can hear them giggling like idiots and talking some hippie bullshit about the cosmos or whatever—kids, probably. He wants to run them off but he doesn’t exactly look his best and he’s still got half a chubby in his pants.
His problem-solving skills kick in, almost on autopilot. He opens the car door and turns on his red-and-blues. Within seconds he hears them cursing and scattering and he smiles wide. All in a day’s work, he thinks, and he grinds his cigarette out with his boot and lights another. Finally, some privacy.
Jill comes out right on time and Hopper doesn’t waste a moment getting her in the backseat. This is a quickie, after all. No need to complicate things by talking. She takes care of her top half while he peels her out of her jeans and thong and tosses them aside. She’s already got her hands and her mouth working his cock and it doesn’t take long before he’s more than ready.
“You got a rubber?” she asks.
He does, of course, because he’s an idiot but he’s not stupid, and he rolls it on quick as he can. He licks his fingers and tests her out and she’s more than good to go. She’s got her legs up to the ceiling and she’s begging him to fuck her quick and dirty but he enters her slowly because he’s a big boy and it’s just the kind thing to do. He may be an asshole but he’s not that kind of asshole. She reaches around and grabs two handfuls of his ass, pulling him into her, and when he’s all the way there she lets out a long, low moan.
It comes as a surprise to him that he wants to make her come, so instead of jackhammering into her until he blows, he slows down a bit and throws a little swerve into it. She’s been generous with him; he wants to return the favor. From the sound of her, it would appear to be working, and when she tells him “harder harder” he does what he’s told. She comes, furiously rubbing her clit and riding his cock from below and it’s loud enough to wake the dead but he doesn’t care. His animal brain has taken control and everything is tits and pussy and his thick cock sliding in and out of her. The Blazer is steamy and everything smells like sex and he’s grunting and humping like some sort of wild bear in the woods. He’s at the tipping point when he hears her say, “Fuck me, baby. Come on my face.”
He stops but stays inside her. “What?”
“I want you to come on me.”
“Jesus,” he says, but he pulls out and rips the condom off anyway.
She sits up and opens her mouth wide and he jerks himself the rest of the way with the tip of his cock on her tongue.
“Get ready,” he says, and she closes her eyes and sticks her tongue all the way out.
He pulls back an inch and aims at her tonsils and comes in three short spurts. The first one hits its mark and the other two stripe her face from cheek to chin. She swallows and licks her lips like she’s hungry for more. Hopper can’t hold himself up another second and he falls back on his heels, back resting against the door. He manages to find a napkin to give her to clean the rest of him off of her.
“Thanks,” she says. “That was… something.”
“It sure the hell was.”
Hopper can barely breathe or stand but he wants a fucking cigarette so he manages to get his pants back on. He spills out of the car before she’s even dressed. He apologizes for it, though, so it’s okay.
She crawls around the Blazer half-naked trying to find the bottom half of her clothing and once she gets herself together she joins him outside for a smoke. They puff away in silence but it’s not awkward. There’s simply nothing left to say. She takes one last drag and flicks her cigarette away.
“See you tomorrow, Chief,” she says, and she walks back inside.
Hopper knows before the door even closes behind her that he won’t be coming here tomorrow, or the next day, or any day after that. His days of drinking at Harley’s are over. It was fun while it lasted, but he’s ruined it like he ruins everything. He gets in the driver’s seat and he knows he’s too fucked up to drive but he turns the key in the ignition anyway, because who’s going to stop him? This is Hawkins. He’s Jim Fucking Hopper. No one in this town can touch him.
DEVIANCE PART 2 >>>
#chief jim hopper x ofc#jim hopper x ofc#jim hopper fanfiction#jim hopper smut#stranger things fanfiction#david harbour#deviance series#pick your poison
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The Night Shift Part 4 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)
Chapter summary: Cute work things (sorry im very hungover and i can't remember what i actually wrote)
Warnings: maybe a bit of second-hand embarrassment, masturbation
W/C: 1.5K
Part 1 Part 5
Monday night, Frankie arrived before you. The day cook, a grizzled old woman named Annette, gave him a toothy grin.
“Evenin’ hotshot,” she said. “You here to make all my dreams come true?”
“Only for a night, darlin’,” Frankie said.
“All you men are the same,” Annette laughed and handed Frankie the spatula. She gave him a to-do list, which was significantly shorter than the one on Friday night had been, bid him goodnight and hightailed it out of there, saying something about dinner with her husband.
Frankie watched the window out of the corner of his eye, waiting for you to arrive. There weren’t many orders up, so he could manage the task of cooking and having his head whip up every time he heard the tinkle of the chimes above the door.
It was almost forty-five minutes after he arrived before you came in, red faced and breathing heavily.
“I’m-I’m so sorry, Riss,” you panted. Marissa shrugged and patted you on the cheek.
“Don’t worry about it, sweet, I had some good company,” she winked at Frankie. “Have a good night, guys, don’t get into too much trouble!”
Frankie watched as you leant over the counter and caught your breath. “Do you want some water?”
You nodded wordlessly, straightening up. Frankie handed you a glass, a shock of electricity surging through him as your fingers briefly touched.
Fuck. He had it bad.
“I had to run here,” you said when you had your breath back. Frankie nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I found a kitten behind a dumpster, all wet and shivering and crying, so I had to take her to the vet.”
“What kind of kitten?” Frankie asked, having a soft spot for cats. He had had one, until he and Portia broke up and she took the cat with her. He didn’t hold it against her: Anthony the Great was technically hers.
“A black one. I’m not good with breeds,” you said.
The conversation was broken up by a pair of old men calling out your name. Your genuine smile was back as you greeted them. Frankie adjusted his cap and smiled to himself.
Occasionally he would glance up at you while he worked, catching the occasional glimpse of your side profile or the back of your head. You seemed a little lighter today, like you weren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was nearing 1 in the morning before he decided to attempt a conversation with you.
“So, how was your weekend?” He kept his tone light, nonchalant. You shrugged, pouring him a cup of coffee.
“It was okay, nothing special.” You stirred in the sugar as you spoke, avoiding his gaze. “My boyfriend has his stupid friends over so I spent most of my Sunday cleaning up after them.” Frankie deflated just a bit. Of course you had a boyfriend. Of course. Someone as beautiful as you . . . he’d be more surprised if you were single.
“But uh, I saw Manny on Sunday,” you continued, oblivious to Frankie’s disappointment. “You remember Manny, right? He was the night cook before you, you met him I think.”
“Yeah, I did. Nice guy.”
“Uh, yeah, so I saw Manny for lunch on Sunday and he suggested making a night shift lunch group.” You wiped down menus, deftly avoiding Frankie’s gaze. “And um, well, if you wanted to come this coming Sunday, that’d be cool.”
“You’re inviting me to lunch?” Frankie asked.
“Yeah,” you said, finally looking up at him. You flushed slightly. “If you’re interested, that is. You don’t have to, obviously, but Manny and I thought it would be nice. We could all get to know each other outside of this place. Make friends, you know?”
Frankie smiled, happy at least with the prospect of a friendship with you. “That sounds great. What time?”
“Midday, if you want you can give me your number later and I’ll text you the place?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“Oh, and it’s just us three. So don’t invite the weekend crew, or your wife or anything.”
“I’m not married, so no problem there,” Frankie grinned at you. You nodded quickly, turning away before you could see the smile you were trying so desperately to fight off.
~*~
You didn’t know why it excited you so much that Frankie had said yes to Sunday lunch. Maybe it was because he wasn’t married, not that it made a difference.
Still, it gave you a slight thrill that Frankie had said yes.
You worked with a renewed vigor for the rest of the night. You weren’t sure any amount of rude customers or spilled drinks or broken plates that could bring you down. At one point you found yourself humming along to the radio, some song you hadn’t heard in years by an artist you couldn’t place. You knew it would bug you until you figured it out
“You like Prince?” Frankie asked, making you blush furiously at being caught with your guard down.
“I-uh-I-yeah. Yeah a bit,” you said, “actually, I haven’t listened to him in years. But I like a few of his songs.”
Frankie grinned and began to sing along in a terrible falsetto, making you snort with laughter. You danced along, allowing yourself this moment of freeing yourself of any embarrassment. After all, if Frankie was willing to put on the falsetto, it wouldn’t kill you to dance. The entire thing was ridiculous, but you were having a better time than you had had in months.
Frankie ended the song with a kick and a flourish, taking off his cap to bow dramatically.
“Have you ever thought of auditioning for one of those talent shows?” You grinned at him, wiping the sweat off your brow.
“Actually, I’ve won several of them,” Frankie winked, “I just work jobs like this when I’m not on sold out world tours.” You laughed again at his joke, almost shocked at how easy it was to laugh with someone. How freeing it was to dance like a fool and not feel embarrassed or like you were in on the joke and not the butt of it.
The rest of the shift passed quickly, the night peppered with jokes between you and Frankie. At the end of the night, instead of rushing out the door as soon as your relief was there, you waited around a few minutes.
Your phone was mercifully free of messages from Kurt, pushing your mood even higher.
Frankie met you outside by the back door, and looked shocked to see you still there. You held up your phone as a way of explanation. “I still gotta get your number.” You handed your phone to Frankie, already open to the new contact screen. Frankie punched it in quickly and handed it back to you.
“What’s with the emojis?” you asked, squinting at them.
“It’s my nickname, Catfish. My buddies and I all had callsigns in the military and that was mine. Except for Benny. He was just Benny.”
“Catfish,” you repeated. “Well, I’ll see you tonight, Catfish.”
“Yeah, see you tonight.”
~*~
You couldn’t sleep. You were too busy thinking. About him. Frankie. His dark, warm eyes that when you looked into them you felt like you could melt. The way his soft looking curls stuck out under his ever present cap. His smile that felt like safety. His hooked nose that led to lips you could only imagine kissing. His hands. You felt yourself warm as you imagined what you wanted his hands to do to you. You let yourself imagine what the rest of his body might look like.
Before you could overthink it and stop yourself, your fingers slipped between your folds and began to rub. You were wetter than you could remember yourself being. You moaned softly as you thought about him doing things to you that you didn’t even realise you wanted. Within minutes you were to your climax, legs stiffening and back arching. Sweat dotted your brow and your heart slammed into your ribcage. You hadn’t orgasmed in almost a year, always too exhausted to masturbate, and it wasn’t like Kurt gave a shit about you finishing when he fucked you.
The thought of Kurt immediately turned you sour. The burning feeling of betrayal knotted itself in your stomach. Kurt didn’t even let you have a vibrator. He had huffed and become scornful when you tentatively brought up the subject a few years back. He didn’t want anyone or anything but him to make you cum. It was a man's job to keep his woman satisfied, even if he struggled with the whole keeping you satisfied part.. You knew Kurt would practically have an aneurysm if he knew you were touching yourself to the thought of another man. But the thought of Frankie touching you gave you a thrill you hadn’t felt in years. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel truly guilty for it. Surely that was some kind of sign.
Eventually, you fell asleep a few hours before your alarm was supposed to go off. Normally, you dreamt of being in your own private space station, as far away from the apartment as possible. That night, you dreamt of Frankie.
Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 let me know if you'd like to be added <3
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