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inknopewetrust · 2 years

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𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞

Summary: Eddie learns what it means to be cared about by someone—even if it means his insecurities speak louder.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Stranger Things)

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Kate Bush has ruined me. Language; suggestive; Hurt/comfort; established relationship; duel perspectives.

Quick Links: Masterlist

There's a softness to the air.

It feels… complicated yet all the same simple and easy and freeing. A slight breeze; a tickle just on the apples of cheeks that are misted by the cool air of an early spring morning. It floats under the minds of everyone who awaken by the light, but those who swim in the darkest of hours find comfort that when the sun rises, there is a belief that for one aching moment, everything is alright is ever so peaceful.

He didn't feel as poetic as he should have.

The grass was cold. A light misting of dew had settled as the evening had folded in on itself, disappearing from thoughts as tired eyes closed and bodies molded. The fingers that skirted the very blades were painted with its water–a strange sensation when the mind is nearly numb.

Lover's Lake was beautiful. Hidden, in many ways.

Hidden beyond a swell of lush trees and bushes, homes that had been built by families' decades ago and rested overlooking a reflecting pool of pure, unbridled nature.

He believed just by stepping foot onto its land meant it was losing its beauty. A swirl of smoke lifted into the air as he breathed out. The pungent smell of a new batch filing the space.

Eddie Munson was at war with himself.

At war with what kind of man he wanted to be and the type people thought he was. Nothing he ever did made enough sense for the residents of Hawkins to think 'this kid isn't as bad as we think' or 'maybe what he likes isn't so… devious.' But he didn't pander to them, ever. What they wanted and expected wasn't him. It never would be.

And there was scarcely a soul who would accept him for him.

But at Lover's Lake, the early dawn did. Even if it didn't always feel like it.

It didn't care that he liked a mysterious, supposedly satanic game; that heavy metal is what melted his goddamn soul or that he took part in some unsavory activities just to bide the time—it was only a bonus when there was an uplifting element to its products. It didn't care that parts of him were broken, like fragments of glass waiting to be glued back together but when artificial tape was applied, it fell apart just as quickly as it was healed.

So he took another hit with let it out with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, musing his hair that had barely seen a comb in twenty-four hours.

There was something here… right before dawn broke the horizon and stroked the dark skies with its pinks, oranges, and yellows, that Eddie felt a cacophony of emotions surge within him. Wallowing in self-pity, he believed, was nothing short of self-destruction but he did it anyway.

Feeling like the world was unsteady, unforgiving when it came to him even if he had never done anything truly wrong.

That's why, in moments where happiness and truth begin to outshine the darkness, doubt becomes prominent. It comes in like a tidal wave, building and growing as the time begins to tick away at what is good; the crescendo only comes when the sky breaks. Like a spotlight it begins to expand.

Fully forming a stage of his life as the trees begin to cascade with colors and then the dock below. Suddenly gleaming on the bumper of his shitty van that he wouldn't trade for the world and slowly inching toward the open doors on the back.

He put out the joint on the dewy grass and let his mind go blank.

There was a softness to the metal.

Like it could wrap around you and hold you still, comforting in an unnatural embrace. It made it so easy to fall asleep.

There was a hum from the crickets and the nocturnal beings that had kept you up, listening to them speak and call and prey amidst the forest just on the edge of Lover's Lake and if you were listening close enough, steady breaths were just as abating. The blanket itself was coarse. The yarn coming undone with every visit, its flowering fabric a statement for its use, for what it covers up as the moon rests high in the night sky.

And even as the doors remained open, the temple of a beat up van had brought a solace. Easing concerns about everyone, everything, but never faltering in its unlikely embrace. Deep inside its nuts and bolts, down to the tires that need to be filled, it set ablaze the forest.

Every Friday.

Every Friday it set this little patch of land just behind a small diving dock on fire.

In its wake it smoldered and confounded two people who wanted nothing more than the sheer happiness their secrets could afford them. Two chariots racing, running to a finish line that was being pushed further and further away as the elements around it tried to peak underneath its dark curtain for all its tales.

It’s a deal that was made—no whispers, no gazes, just these small moments in the woods. These moments lost in between space and time simply waiting to reveal themselves but cannot. The forces of nature binding two worlds as parallel lines forbidden to meet only to become complicated when they do.

A good girl, a bad boy. It sounded so cliché when you thought about it.

But when it happened, it felt as though two seas collided. There was no turning back from this.

You could see the moon shining on the lake as your head spun with thoughts. These late nights, the early morning rises that followed a routine that wasn’t certain although it had become conventional, ordinary when it shouldn’t have been. There was a slight breeze whistling through the trees; the fringe on the blanket exposed to the night air lightly blew upwards and trickled into the van.

The breeze, however, could not stop the ceaseless voices that filled your mind.

What if they called the Wheeler’s and Nancy wasn’t even home?

What if they could smell the weed and cigarettes on your clothes as you walked through the door as they made breakfast?

How would they forgive you if they had known you went against their rules?

It was always them. Your parents, friends, others who thought one thing of you while your mind and heart raced in the opposite direction. As the year quickly made its way to its close and you would walk across the stage with a diploma in hand, would he? Another year and what would that leave you?

This… it wasn’t easy, whatever this was.

And those curious thoughts always loomed when night had fallen and no delicate eyes nor smile could save you from them. They always won.

When you laid back against the metal of the van only covered with what he could spare, you looked over. Peaceful and content. There were no lines of concern taut on his face, no anger at the world in his eyes.

He was good. Kind.

Soft hearted and quiet when the time came.

He wasn’t bad. He wasn’t evil.

There was a tightness in your chest when you thought about it—truly thought about it. Just looking at him as nothing but a dim moonlight glided in from the window on his left, the wide open doors by your feet, and seeing nothing but him. Pure, unadulterated him.

You would fall asleep next to him a million times if it meant that you were content.

And you were.

That was the frightening part.

The kind that made you turn on your side, away from him, and let a tear slip out of your eye only to run along the bridge of your nose and onto the blanket.

Feeling this way… it was scary.

The sun barely had traced the edges of the trees by the time Eddie had made it to the van. His shoes were misted with the dew, he could hear the birds begin to chirp at the sound of an unbroken dawn. When he approached the bumper, there was not even a stir at the sound.

Perhaps you had gotten more use to the simple sounds of nature compared to him.

For a moment, he hovered; watching in only a way he could.

You slept as he had left you—curled into yourself like a cocoon wrapped in a yellow blanket he had stolen off the back of Wayne’s sofa three months back. His uncle had never even questioned it when they took the van to have it serviced and he saw it in the back.

Eddie wanted it to be that way. The kind where no one questioned the choices either of you made but people were cruel and he knew that better than you, better than most. He wished he didn’t have to twist his rings in concern over the way he felt people would perceive you if they had known.

But he couldn’t get himself to stop. It was addictive, this fine line. He couldn’t shake it.

The way you slept soundly made him regret his path of thinking. What he wanted you to see over the deep slumber the bewitching morning had granted you; the choice he had lumbered to was stuck in his mind—the words he wanted to say but couldn’t always formulate them correctly out of sheer uncertainty that somewhere along the fine line he had taken a misstep. Maybe the sunrise would give him the courage today.

Eddie Munson believed he was no hero—but heroes didn’t need to be the only ones with courage to pave their way in life.

So he bottled that and conserved what it could before it started leaking out like a sieve.

He reached out gently, resting one of his ringed hands on your leg and shook you awake. Your head moved slightly under the blanket, tussling the fabric away from your face. You didn’t even look at him before rubbing your hands over your eyes to wake up.

“Hm?” Your hum was quiet, laced with sleep and deeper than it normally was. He thought it was attractive—these brief moments where any insecurity was brushed aside for the sake of recognizing the world once more.

Instead of responding, he just gently shook your leg a little more. Eddie roused you from your sleep without saying so much as a word, but his comforting hand never strayed. His hand stroking the area softly as you sat up, the blanket falling and the sweatshirt you had stowed away in his vehicle became an unwelcome reminder of uncertainty.

Yale.

In bright white lettering.

You sat up, resting your arms behind you and looked at Eddie with a concerned yet composed demeanor.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he nearly hushed as he removed his hand and held it out to you, “I want to show you something.”

“It’s still dark out.”

Although there was no other people in the vicinity, you both were whispering. Eddie nodded his head, flexing out his hand for you to take.

“I know,” he agreed, “bring the blanket. Come on.”

There was very little to question. Your eyes were still tired and the thought of trying to decipher words that barely contained a clue would have been taxing. It was early Saturday morning and when the timer on his watch went off, the reverie of what had been would have to wait another day. There wasn’t time to waste.

You took his hand and it was cold—meaning he had been outside of that metal shelter for longer than he probably should have been. He guided you out of the van, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, pretending to tuck it into you as the ends met around your chest.

You couldn’t suppress the smile of his movements.

“Give me your hands,” you spoke quietly in the same manner as before but pulled your hands out from underneath the blanket as you both stood just beyond the van.

“Why?”

“Just give them to me.”

He held them out, palms up and you carefully scooped them together with your own, bringing them to touch but not intertwined and to your lips. He watched with concentrated eyes the way his fingertips barely grazed the skin of your plump lips.

You let a warm breath pass onto them. Then another. And another before holding them tightly with your own.

“Your hands are cold.”

Eddie didn’t say anything. He let you hold them for a few seconds before leading you to the edge of the grass where the dock began. The colors of the sunrise had just begun to emerge beyond the tree line and it painted the edges of the pine and oak and slim branches with carefully guided strokes.

“Here,” and he brought you to the edge, where a rickety old lawn chair had been left to die amongst the wilderness and sat through the seasons as they changed. Winter, into spring, and just as the seasons began to mix from spring into summer, the chair remained. Eddie let go of your hand to reposition the chair to face outward toward the water.

You had even noticed the sun had begun to rise.

“Sit down here,” he pointed toward the end of the chair so you obliged, watching as he shuffled out of his white reeboks and sat against the chair behind you. It didn’t take any coaxing for you to fall back against him and let him wrap his arms around you.

Your head fell against his shoulder; letting him rest his own just at the crook of your neck as your head tilted off to the side. You rested your hands on his arms, feeling the leather of his jacket cool your fingertips.

It was in these moments where you felt perfectly content. He was quiet then; the existential need for attention quelled as he relished in the minutes he had holding you molded into his own body.

"Did you know," He began in a inhibited voice, you could smell the trace of weed on him; a mixture of worn cologne and a recent smoke, "that right over there," Eddie took one of his hands and extended it in front of you, eastward, "the sun peaks right between those two trees."

You could see where his finger was pointing. Near the center of the forest across from you, two trees paralleled one another at near equal heights yet the ones between them were short. It framed colors of orange and pink.

"Every day, every Saturday, the same spot."

"Kind of like us, huh?" You leaned your head towards him, watching as the colors began to shine through. He turned his own head, letting his lips fall onto your forehead. You could feel his steady breaths behind you.

There was a lingering feeling as you both sat there, viewing the dawn. A stagnant air circling and encasing the 'what if' or 'what now' as the weeks began to dwindle. There were five blank spaces on the calendar in your bedroom–five days until spring break began and the months that followed would only be a sprint to the stage. The give and take to have a conversation that transcended whatever this was had been plagued by the hardships that may unveil when the truth of one person's intentions are made clear.

"Kind of like us," Eddie repeated, his warm breath brushing the skin of your face and his arms around you tightened in the slightest.

It was painless, being in his arms like this.

But it was painful remembering the world that existed beyond this small spot.

"Eddie…" He would never tire from hearing his name fall from your lips. There was something, however, that made him resort to the feelings that had been spreading earlier that morning.

He couldn't have known you thought the same in the moonlight.

"Yeah?" He responded, not sure if he wanted the morning to go like this. But there was a comfort in the way neither of you broke away; linked together, bound in the ease of daybreak and the amiability of yearning.

"What are we going to do?"

You had to say it. You did. And he didn't know how to reply, so he didn't. You let go of his arms, your own falling outside of the blanket and on the outside of his legs, resting your elbows on his bent knees as the silence passed.

Eddie always wore a version of ripped jeans. It had become something of a signature style for him and your fingers traced the rips, the fabric fraying and ready to tear again with the right amount of pressure. He turned his head into yours, resting his forehead at the top of your head above your left ear. It was the heavy sigh emitted from his chest. You imagined he closed his eyes just for a second before finding the words to speak.

He couldn't.

"I want you to graduate," you whispered in an attempt to sound more hopeful and confident than you were, "I don't want you to end up like…" the obvious trail that led straight to his core.

You didn't want him to end up like his parents. Hell, he didn't either but he had been fostered in the cycle of carelessness for so long that the likelihood that he would continue to fail and end up at a horrible job was increasing. Not every rock star made it.

Eddie took no offense to you for wanting the best for him. It's what any normal person would have wanted for their… other… but he hadn't been privy to it before you had shot an arrow through the center of his heart.

As you had believed, his eyes had been closed. Breathing steady and unwavering as your thoughts spilled just as the sun began to break the tree line. Strokes of a rainbow of colors spread above and reflected on the lake below. Instead of agreeing with you or pushing back, Eddie thought of all the scenarios that had plagued his own mind as the clock began to tick toward graduation.

"Would," he cleared his throat, not letting you go, "would I be holding you back?"

Eddie felt the air change. Maybe it was you, the slight stiffness in your body at his suggestion. It hadn't happened many times where he could tell the trajectory of a specific comment would shift the palpable air but he could feel it here. So close to you and knowing that these thoughts must have invaded your own mind too.

"Holding me back?"

"Yeah, you know," Eddie shifted slightly, his arms loosening as one of his legs laid flat against the lounge chair and the other remained bent. His eyes cast away toward the water and focused on the morning. The admittance wasn't something he could look you in the eye for, "that maybe I'd be… preventing you from… other things."

Eddie always claimed he wasn't smart, but when he coded words so eloquently wrapped in a self-conscious fear of what it meant to be devoted to someone more than he was to his own self, he was brilliant. You had always seen that in him when he didn't see it in himself.

And it did not take a genius to uncover his implications. By remaining committed hundreds of miles away, Eddie was scared he wasn't enough. If he didn't graduate, what would he do? If he couldn't find a steady job or a path for his future, what would he do and what would that leave you to do? He could already see you in the prestigious buildings of Yale laughing with trust-fund babies and jocks that sat a little too close.

Would he hold you back from finding something better? Someone who could provide for you and support you as much as you did them?

"Do you think you're holding me back from something?"

"I don't know," It was an honest answer, you weren't upset.

"Eddie?"

"Mhm?" The sound reverberated through his chest. You knew he was chewing on his lip anxiously. He couldn't give himself away by wringing his fingers or pacing. He could have really used a cigarette.

"Why do you think that?"

There were always going to be doubts that infiltrated your mind when the basis of your relationship was unknown to others. Yet, there was a constant.

The giddiness in your bones when you woke on Friday mornings, the emptiness that you felt when the week passed by so slowly and only a brief twenty minutes at lunch let you sneak a look or two without someone holding your attention. It never hurt because what had grown between you should never hurt–for anyone, especially not people trying to make good.

But there was a sting when he believed he wasn't good enough. What made you the prize? What was so great about you that a man good and compassionate feels less than because of the potential of your future?

So you asked, "why do you think that?"

Eddie shook his head. The light shimmy of his hair tickling the skin that it met at the back of your neck and just behind your ear. He was still looking beyond.

"I-" the silent hesitation began again, his eyes looking up to the sky where they emulated the colors that cascaded in his sparkling brown hue.

"I don't think you'll hold me back from anything, no," you replied instead. Eddie felt one of your hands meet his own, tracing the lines of his veins and to the silver of his rings. Your fingertips were soft.

"I want you to have everything you've ever wanted," Eddie had settled on as your confession rang through his brain. It felt funny having this conversation when you were both barely able to call yourselves adults, though it felt like the most important decision you'd ever make—if this thing was worth it or had it been a waste of six months of disingenuous behavior.

This kind of interdimensional fleeting feeling that was slipping from your palms like water.

"It's all here."

Here, at Lover's Lake. Everything you wanted.

"You will always occupy a piece of me," as your body was slumped into his, you looked up, trying to get his attention to see your truth. This was you. Not some dream of your parents that called you away to New Haven or the accomplishments of the people who surrounded you that meant somehow you belonged to that group of people.

Your person had been split into two the moment Eddie Munson held the door out for you when you were running late to class in early November. The choices you made to commit to that had distorted your own sense of want, need, and the future you had become uncertain about because not only had you wanted it to include him, you wanted it to be something that could be settled into with content.

You wanted to be content and you were with him, just wavering when the future was so close.

"I miss you when I shouldn't; thinking that maybe you're thinking of me when I do you… every day I wake up and hope it's the last day of the week just so I can see you, be with you… and sometimes I think it’s ridiculous but I imagine this is the feeling that authors write of. The kind that the girls in my class swoon over—Jay seeing Daisy again, Juliet’s speech to Romeo.”

Eddie had never had someone commit themselves to him. To want to be with him for more than a brief moment in time where nothing mattered, but times where everything came into focus and the spotlight shined like diamonds.

"You're not going to hold me back…"

He still wasn't looking and for a second, you thought maybe he was trying to push you away before it was too late. Before those final seconds when your father's car pulled out of the drive way in August to take you away. A clean break, months in advance where the heartbreak could simmer and eventually cool. Nothing more than a distant memory that could be looked upon with a fondness and a wonder of what might have been.

Except when you pulled away from him and his arms dropped to his sides, you knew he was listening because his eyes could never lie. The brown brilliance of his emotions were worn not on his sleeve, but his face and when you could admit your truth so freely amidst the foggy outlook of fate, he did not know it would hit him so hard.

Someone cared–you cared. Deeply and willingly.

You saw his glassy eyes. It had touched him. You moved away for a second, turning around to face him on your knees and pulled the blanket back around your shoulders. The balls of your feet dug into the back of your thighs and you realized you hadn't been wearing any shoes and the soles of your socks were wet.

"Eddie, I wouldn't be here if I didn't have the intention of keeping a good thing going."

A good thing. It was the best thing.

You leaned forward, taking your hand and cupping the side of his face to turn it toward you. Eddie Munson had stolen your heart and you took his and ran with it too. He'd never been lucky enough for that to happen before.

"I'm here. No matter what. It's you and me."

He looked at you now with eyes glinting. There was a small nod because you felt your hand that had been resting on his cheek move.

“I-I,” he started but a lump had formed in his throat quickly, so he resorted to a whisper, “I don’t deserve you.”

You saw it in his eyes that he was telling the truth.

“What?”

"I feel like I don't deserve you." You felt his voice was a fragment of what it was. The doubts overtaking his mind as they always did when things became complicated. He wanted to run. The urge was strong like a current ready to wash him away but you were there, holding his face tenderly. And he still said "I feel like I don't deserve you."

He let it spill.

"You're smart… so goddamn smart and I can't even finish one Click's tests… I'm going to end up living here my entire life because that's what's destined for me, sweetheart," he wanted you to let go. To let him run from this treacherous insecurity that festered within him. "You could have anyone and be seen because no one would judge. I don't think I'm ever meant to be happy. Freaks aren't supposed to win the girl and be a hero. I need you to see that, I need you to."

You felt your eyes reflect his own. The pain that he had felt that way and let it sit without knowledge that it was untrue. Hawkins had dealt him a cruel card that perpetrated facts and expectations of a person he was not.

"I need you to see that…" He barely whispered, a tear meeting the pad of your thumb that rested on his face and you shook your head definitively. "I don't want you to regret me."

"Stop it," You mumbled, trying to compose yourself to stake the claim that he wasn't saying what he was, "stop saying that."

"But it's true," He chuckled although it was far from amusing. His chest heaved, lifting with a stuttered breath and his leg that was bent on the chair landed with a thud against the wood of the dock, "everyone knows it is."

"But everyone isn't you! Do you believe that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" His voice was certain and firm and that hurt.

You felt you had failed in making him feel that he mattered too.

Throwing off the blanket, you let it fall behind you and you sat up on your knees, cupping his face with both of your hands with a tenacity you needed. Looking into his sad, innocent eyes made you want to give him everything. Every piece of you that you hadn't given–which was nothing but the words he needed to hear.

"You are the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me, Eddie Munson," your voice broke at his name, "and you are the only one who sees me for who I really am."

The instant he saw you cry, he did too.

"You are good and kind and caring and the most annoying person I have ever met but I would never regret a life where I loved you," Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, your foreheads touching as you clutched his face.

"I can't be scared about anything when you look at me."

"I don't deserve you," he whispered again while his hands gripped the fabric of your sweatshirt tightly.

"Please stop saying that… please," you hated to beg, "I need you to know that I would run to the ends of the earth for you."

Even with the doubts of his own path forward.

"I want you to see that, Eddie. You are my everything…"

You ducked your head, searching for his eyes and found them waiting. Running a hand over his face and brushing the hair just out of his eyes gave him a second to see the sincerity you emitted.

"Don't let them take you away from me."

Eddie's lip quivered. His hand moved to grip the back of your neck and he would make a deal with God if it meant he could have forever with you, like this, in the satisfaction of Lover's Lake.

“Don’t let them take you,” You repeated. The people of Hawkins couldn’t take him and run. He had to witness his own worth.

The sun had risen. The golden sunlight a halo above you as he gazed into your teary eyes that certainly were a duplicate of his own.

"You promise?" He asked honestly. He wanted to know you had been telling the truth. Vulnerability allowed him to ask.

"Of course."

Eddie slowly nodded his head, giving you a small, agreeing smile as his eyes watched your eyes then lips, waiting to pull you in to seal his concerns and lock them away for the time being.

He quietly agreed with a reticent 'ok' and kissed you.

You hadn't even realized that the sky had become bright. Day had come and as his salty lips met your own, your embrace shielded him in a tender storm. He cherished the way your hands slid from his face to hair, fusing them together while he pulled you flush to him; tilting his head upwards when your knees propelled you upwards and taller than his sitting form.

A quick rhythmic beeping broke you apart.

Time had expired.

There was still so much to be said.

You pulled away—unwillingly but necessary, wrapping an arm around his shoulder while the other wiped the access tears that had spilled from his eyes. There was a purity to being willing to express yourself in front of someone else. A tragic beauty unfathomable yet available to you.

“I promise,” You repeated and he nodded, resting his forehead on yours one last time before patting the side of your leg.

“You know what that sound means.”

Another week gone, one night spent only to be yearned for again. You frowned.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No,” he gave a closed-lipped smile, “I don’t like it either… but I have to get you back.”

You knew he did. It was how it always went—this one just felt a heavier than before. There wasn’t enough time to make him feel as though everything would be ok even if your words tried to convince him of such. He patted your thigh again.

“Come on,” you moved off of him and watched him pull on his shoes, wipe his eyes again, and while he didn’t have to, he stood and held his hand out to you.

You took it.

When Eddie drove you out of the hidden trails of Lover’s Lake, he didn’t let your hand go from his; where his arm purposefully extended along the center console that barely closed from the cassette tapes that filled it high. Even if the terrain was rocky, he held it tightly.

And it was quiet.

Any normal morning would have had his music blasting through the speakers and threatening to blow your eardrums.

All you could do was rub your thumb over the top of his hand and remain steadfast that although graduation was around the corner, things may not have to change if devotion was honest.

When Eddie pulled his van over just two blocks from your house in the subdivision. The air felt heavy but hopeful. He drew his hand intertwined with yours to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of your hand before letting you go.

The last thing he wanted was for you to be in trouble because of his inability to let go.

“I’ll see you on Monday, ok?” He said with an assured nod. You nodded and made for the door, shutting it close without a slam, then you walked away.

You mind begged to look behind. Begged to see him as he made sure you rounded the corner without a bother and then made his own way back home but you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because the nagging sense that his words of “holding you back” and the concept of what you deserved littered all your thoughts. All you could do not to cry before you got to your room was count the steps you were taking to get there.

Eddie would lie if he was ever asked if he thought about the conversation after you had left. He couldn’t even pick up his guitar because his mind was left racing.

When Monday had arrived, you were nervous to see if he would be different; that fragile masculinity had breached his mind and an openness to be was suddenly taboo. The anxiety of walking to your seat in the lunchroom was eating away at you as you stood in line for the unappetizing food they were serving—only for it to build as the chaos of the room became clear just beyond the archway. Jocks, preps, nerds, and more filled their tables and the sounds of their conversations echoed loudly throughout the room. But you made your way to your seat beside Nancy as she worked on her calculus homework that had been assigned hours before–knowing that if you looked up, you had a perfect view of him.

Knowing that you had taken that spot for the sole reason of being able to steal a glance whenever you felt inclined to because the spot was directly across the vast room from his own.

“Hey,” Nancy spoke without looking up from her textbook, popping a celery stick into her mouth at the same time, “how was your weekend?”

You couldn’t even answer because you had lost control and looked up, hoping that those bleeding eyes were staring back at you and into your soul as they did every time. An unspoken appreciation for the person that knew you better than all, yet had to be held far away because of the forces at play. You hated that it still existed after what you both had said.

But as your eyes lifted from your tray and your head looked straight in his direction, those eyes were looking back at you. His knee perched on his chair and his hand fishing for a pretzel in his bag.

Just for a second, you had dismissed all the concerns you had mulled over because the gleam in his eyes as he looked at you from across the room made your heart stop.

He always had the same affect.

Suddenly, you couldn’t wait for Friday to come. Spring break couldn’t come fast enough.

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chocolate-teapots · 2 years

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Pillow Thoughts: Glen Lantz

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Glen Lantz can’t help but notice you’re not like other girls.

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Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of drugs, violence, gore, freaky trippy horror movie shit.

written in the point of view of Lantz

"What if we lived in a like totally different kind of society."

Having an engaging conversation was one of the best feelings ever. You knew you really found someone different, someone special when you can ignore the rights and wrongs for a second and spill your guts out to them.

She listened to everything I said as she lay next to me, sheets covering the dangerous parts but the moonlight highlighted the better parts like the shine in her deep eyes. She watched me as I picked my brain for my identity, ripping apart layers of me in her mind.

Heaven knows what she was thinking.

"That's really deep," she chuckled, bare shoulders shaking beneath the sheets.

"I know Y/N but think about it, the things that we're told we shouldn't do, the things I wanna do like a lie, drink, do drugs were a single persons beliefs that just happened to turn into the fucking law!"

I sit up, enthusiasm cascading down my bare torso.

"Isn't that crazy?"

She continued to giggle but the content behind it showed how much she truly agreed and that was what reeled me into her.

"Fuck morality sucks," I huff back down on the mattress, huddling up just like her and tracing the locks that cover her ethereal face.

She scoots closer, eyelashes tickling my face each time she blinks. It's these childish but peaceful moments that I couldn't have anywhere else. I move onto my back, her head situating itself on my chest. I could feel her counting my heartbeats and mimicking my breaths.

There was a comfortable silence in paradise.

"Tell me about Nancy."

I freeze, being ripped away from my magazine clipping back to reality where I had another girl waiting for me just across the street.

"Well, what do you want to know?"

The hand that I have on my back suddenly feels dirty and heavy so I remove my touch, not daring to look away from my light.

"What is she like?"

She hums happily into my warmth even though I'm freezing at the coldness of my heart in this situation.

"She's crazy."

She chuckles in reply but she doesn't understand. I had to watch her sleep on more than once occasion, called her only for her to pick up screaming hysterically, gone weeks without seeing her walk out of the house. Yet, I was attached to her because I didn't really want to let go of that security of being in a relationship.

There was something about Y/N that couldn't keep me away. I was like a desperate dog with her only going away and leaving her alone whilst fed. There was only one problem with her, a single flaw.

"I don't know what it is but I feel like I've known you forever but like you never leave your house, you don't go to our school even though it's the only one in the area. What's up with that?" I look down at her and she looks up at me.

She smirks devilishly but it was beyond the expressions she pulled moments ago under my touch, it was darker. Her arms became suffocating around my stomach.

"I don't know, sometimes I just get a little hungry," she laughs, not stopping to take a single breath.

I lean away with a struggle, asking her;

"What?"

In one her pink lips stretch out larger than a doorframe, engulfing me whole. I scream into walls that are so strange they appear fictional, I didn't know what was happening. In just my underwear I was falling down a well that resembled the inside of the throat that they just managed to show on nighttime tv.

"Shit!"

After years of pure terror, plummeting to a concrete ground I land in a warehouse, pipes bursting and blowing smoke that was less sexy than a school dance. I inspect everywhere with utter panic, it was as if I was sucked into a comic that I could often fall asleep with on my chest however my breathing was heavier, the rooms were darker and there were girls who ate people a-fucking-live!

"Don't be scared," a whisper booms from the sky.

Was it even a sky? When I looked up all I could see were pipes tangling with each other like a bunch of snakes slithering and preying.

"Don't show him your fear."

Telling someone not to be scared was probably the worst attempt at calming me down at that moment. When a voice ruptures from the sky, it has to be questioned and when it tells you to chill out, there is no relaxing.

"Who are you?" I yell at nothing, voice sounding weird and not even able to be interpreted by myself.

I see a figure running towards me, hands longer than usual with a menacing stance. It's breathing was rattling and resembled the final breaths of a dying loved one played over and over again to taunt you. I found myself backing away but staying still out of curiosity. Of course, I had to see who it was.

Under one of the exposed industrial bulbs, used as a horrifically ironic spotlight, was a cluster of burnt skin thrown together in the shape of a man with knives for fingers. I couldn't study his use of a hat or striped sweater further as a hand dragged me away.

Before I knew it, I was trusting a stranger and running with them to what I could only call safety at this point. Anything was safer than this.

"I'm that chick."

How specific.

The way she glided around corners and avoided tiny bumps in the ground told me she'd been here a while. this was not her first time at the rodeo and she made it known despite never showing me her face. The ringing sweetness of her voice in a deep tone was strangely familiar maybe out of television, music or school maybe?

"How long have you been here?"

I let out a breath afterwards as we'd been running a while, the crispy guy still managed to cut us off at spontaneous moments making me jump, however 'that chick' managed to foresee each jumpscare like me playing a horror game at 3 am.

"8 years."

I look at her with pure shock, pity, sadness and fascination in my eyes. Not that I knew where she was but eight years was a long time for someone to be inside somewhere, trapped.

We're running still but new corners are cut so that the girl doesn't recognise any of them. She glances over the metal while I fix myself on the creature slithering towards us with red painted on his mind if he had one that was.

"We have to jump," she says, eyes judging me underneath her large sunglasses and eyebrows furrowing as I protest.

I wasn't ready to sacrifice my life. I had so much to live for, to sort out. Panic overflowed and she grabbed my cheeks, kissing me tenderly as reassurance.

"You dreaming this is the only way to save us both."

I search in her blocked-out eyes. Did I know her?

With a countdown, we jump, her trenchcoat flowed in the air and my vulnerable frame failed around ready to brace the concept of lying and trusting people too hard. As I brush the concept of pain, I am in my room shooting up with beads of sweat.

The dip in my bed shot fear into my veins and slowly with a dangerously quick heart I glanced to my side only to see a cuddling Y/N at my side, the sun shining on the cheekbones that brighten her despite being asleep. The last thing I remember this girl was eating me so I poke her exposed forearm, causing her to stir and then wake up.

As soon as she sees me, despite me probably looking like a madman at this point, her lips widen into a smile and her eyes shine bright with no sleepiness.

"Are you hungry?" I manage, analysing her form each snuggle.

"Starving," she chuckles rubbing her eyes while sitting up.

I blush and smile.

"I bet."

#80s movie #80s imagines #glen lantz #johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #nightmare on elm street

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kasey-writes-stuff · 2 years

Note

How about 10 and or 17 with ler!Sapnap and lee!Quackity

I don’t have a title oops

Sapnap woke up feeling ler today but it was a mix of a ler mood of sorts he was feeling really teasy but he was also feeling soft… He slowly opened his eyes and saw he was alone in the bed, it wasn’t unusual as he usually slept later than his fiancés. He yawned and stretched as he got out of bed taking a quick shower and brushing his teeth before heading out to the living room. He plopped down on the touch next to Quackity another yawn escaping as he laid his head on Quackity’s shoulder.

Quackity smiled softly, “good morning sweet heart how’d you sleep”

Sapnap smiled softly, “mornin I slept really good it helps having two big cuddle bugs around, speaking of where’s Karl?”

Quackity giggled softly, “He said something about going to visit Tina for a little bit today wasn’t sure when he’d be home but he’ll try and be home before dark, oh he asked me to give you this!”

Quackity turned his head gently grabbing sapnaps head and kissing his cheek..

Sapnap blushed softly, “That man is too sweet..”

Quackity nods, “isn’t he though, so what do you wanna do today?”

Sapnap smirks softly “Wellllll…. I did kinda wake up in a ler mood so…”

Quackity’s eyes widen as he now blushes softly, “O-oh really… what um what what kind of ler mood is it?”

Sapnap smiles, “Oh you know just a teasy soft one…”

Quackity gulps softly face noticeably pink now, “O-oh oh r-really one of um one of those..”

Quackity did not handle teasing well at all and that paired with soft tickles which he also can’t handle?!? He’s basically doomed in the best way

Sapnap lifts his head from Quackity’s shoulder and turns to face him, “Mhm! So what do you say Quackity you up for some tickles?”

Quackity rubs the back of his neck, “Well um well I uh you haven’t even ate breakfast yet don’t you uh wanna eat first?”

Sapnap shakes his head softly, “no I think the part of me that wants food can wait… I’d rather feed the part of me that wants your giggles first!”

With that he gently tackles Quackity to the couch sitting on his waist

Quackity squeaks in surprise giggles already threatening to tumble out, “EEK! S-sahapnap!”

Sapnap smiles brightly, “Yes my beloved? What’s wrong so excited for your tickle tickle tickles you’re already giggling hmm?”

Quackity’s face already begins turning from pink to red as he shakes his head, “shuhuttt uhuhppp dohohnntt shahhayyy thahhatt!”

Sapnap shakes his head, “Can’t even take me saying the word tickle… man I wonder how bad it would be if I…”

Sap leans down to Quackity’s face placing gentle kisses and saying, “tickle” after each one

Quackity is immediately a mess of giggles face scrunching eyes closed as he wiggles and turns his face side to side but it does nothing to stop the on slaught of tickly kisses, “Eheheh ahahah nohoho nohoho shahhahapppnnahhahappp stohohhoppp!”

Sapnap smirks, “You don’t really mean that now come on we both know you don’t you’re just too flustered to say anything else… hmm let’s see I think your cheeks are about all tickly kissed out where should I go next?”

Quackity’s eyes widen, “W-whahhattt? Y-you you want meheh to choose!?!”

Sapnap nods “Yep I want you to choose! If you really can’t though then I’m sure I can find somewhere~”

Quackity is blushing beyond belief as he thinks a moment finally swallowing his pride “Fihhihnneheh mhihiyyy tuhuhmmyy pllhehehahasehehe”

Sapnap nods “Okay now you know halloween is very soon so how about a little game trick or treat?”

Quackity is confused but plays along anyways “umm treat!”

Sapnap smiles softly “Okay!”

He leans down a gives Quackity’s tummy a small kiss making him squeak and his stomach twitch as he giggles

“Eek! Sahhappnahhapp!”

Sapnap smiles “Well you said treat so that’s your treat! Let’s do it again trick or treat?”

Quackity let’s his curiosity get the best of him “Trihihiccckk”

Sapnap smirks softly “Alright trick it is!”

He leans down blowing a quick raspberry!

Quackity squeals falling into loud giggles

“EEP AHhahahha nohoho!!”

Sapnap smiles

“Whatttt you’re the one that said trick instead of treat~”

Quackity rolls his eyes softly

“Whahhatttehehvveheherrr ihihi knhohowww thehe gahahammbehe nohhowww soho ihihittss ohohovvehehrr! ehhe you have your fill of giggles yet lover boy? I’m getting hungry”

Sapnap rolls his eyes, softly blushing at the pet name

“I guess for now…”

Quackity now rolls his eyes

“Mhm yea who’s to say I won’t give you the rest of your full of giggles by making you giggle hmm?”

Sapnap blushes more brightly quickly climbing off Quackity

“So um food yea you’re hungry?”

Quackity laughs and the two go off to find something half decent

The end

#lee! C!Quackity #ler! C!Sapnap #Kasey writes stuff

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jabean-fanfiction · 2 years

Note

As someone who constantly keeps re-reading 'Falling Into Light' and patiently awaits for 'A Light in the Dark' updates, I have so many questions AKXJEJJSNXNDMEKSKKHHFBRHDJ so, here are some of them (because I forgot the rest)

Do you believe in the Darth Jar Jar theory?

Do you think Sidious truly used Padmé's lifeforce to ensure Vader lived?

Will Rogue One survive in ALITD? 🥹

Do you ever see Anakin and Rey actually marrying and having kids? Like, I don't know, seems like a dream, but what do you think?

That's all from me! Seriously, from the core of my heart, thank you for writing your stories, I absolutely love all of them, even the HP ones. Your ideas are marvellous and mind-blowing <33 (and also that you might have inspired a fic from my end and it's currently in the drafting stage akxbejsjjsjsndnjds full credits to you <33)

Again, thank you so so much. Have a wonderful day/night ahead <33

Thanks so much for the ask. I rarely get asks, so I’m just completely tickled pink right now. And your words are so very kind. Thank you 💜

So, onto your questions… I do not believe in the Darth Jar Jar theory. I figured that because the Emperor was human (albeit an extremely wrinkly one) in the original trilogy, that there was no way Jar Jar was the Sith Lord. For me it was and has always been Palpatine. The fact that Jar Jar has yellow eyes, well… so do plenty of other beings in Star Wars. Doesn’t mean anything.

I’m still humming and hawing over the Padme life force thing. It could work, and I think that it does work a lot better than George Lucas’ ‘she died of a broken heart’ excuse. It would totally be something that Palpatine would do, too. His whole thing with Anakin was to get him alone. Whether that was in the chancellors office for their meetings, social visits, etc. or splitting Anakin from all of his supports — Obi-Wan, the Jedi Order (not that they were super supportive of Anakin personally), Ahsoka (I have to watch the Clone Wars still, but I’ve a feeling Palpatine was the one who orchestrated Ahsoka being framed for the terrorist attack(??) against the Order. He shook her belief in the Order and at the very least indirectly caused her to walk away from it), and finally Padme. He kept coming between her and Anakin throughout their “secret” relationship. I feel, at the very least, Anakin knows that Palpatine had something to do with her death.

I’m not sure with Rogue One surviving ALITD. They won’t die on Scarif, I can say that at least. But, I don’t know if they will survive everything. I kind of ignored them in Falling Into Light, and I know that I don’t want to do that in ALITD. But whether they survive to the epilogue, I don’t know. The same thing with Boba Fett. I know how I want to introduce him into ALITD, but beyond that I’m not entirely sure what to do with him. (Not that you asked about Boba, but he was on my mind)

I can definitely see Rey and Anakin in a committed relationship, whether that’s marriage or not 🤷‍♀️ I’m not big on marriage myself, having grown up in a home that looked perfect from the outside, but had parents that complained to their kids (me) about one another. It’s left me quite jaded and cynical in regards to marriage being a dream/fairytale, etc. but who knows? Perhaps. If it feels natural in ALITD, it might happen. The same thing with kids. Although, I’m not sure either Rey or Anakin would consider themselves fit to have kids. They definitely aren’t at present in the story, but…we’ll see.

You’ll have to send me a link to your story when you post it! I totally want to read it 💜

#answered ask

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bloomyagi · 3 years

Text

bleed me dry (m)

summary: where Itadori is your bottom-loving boyfriend and Sukuna reluctantly learns this vessel is the real curse. or: where seduction is a dangerous game, and the King of Curses loses.

pairings: itadori x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader

warnings: subby itadori, sub sukuna (yeah you read that right), light bondage, blindfolds, sukuna’s havin a whole ‘reconsidering life’s meaning’ moment, lotta swear cause u know sukuna things, coming untouched, he faints (yeah you also read that right) and is actually unabashed about it, all things considered

length: 1,432

notes: what? me? obsessed with jjk? that doesn’t sound like me at all!

His vessel is in love.

The word curdles in his mouth, tastes like ash. He has never known such a thing. It is part of his nature, he muses absently. Hardened from centuries of death and decay. Of destruction and war. He revels in it. Feels the most alive amongst the chaos.

But that’s the point. Curses can feel. They can have emotional attachment. Can’t you see? In so many ways, they’re not so different from us. He thinks you’re too loud. Your thoughts and beliefs are too loud. They’re also pointless and naïve, and he likes to pop by just to drive it home.

Hello, Sukuna. Where is the fear? Where is the resentment, the anger? The disgust? He enjoys it. But you—you just sit there and coax him into conversation like he’s another one of your classmates. Like he can’t crush your windpipe with a single flick of his hand. Like he isn’t the slow bleed of a death sentence for your lover. Like he isn’t anything at all. Like his titles and powers are stripped. What is he beyond it all? Who is he?

You ask about him sometimes. He rarely gives any indication he’s listening, but he does. Of course he does. There’s not much to do, bound and locked in this pink-haired boy. He lounges on this throne and watches his vessel pine and blush.

Sukuna watches his vessel fuck his fist and mewl your name every night.

It’s sad. “Brat,” he hisses. “Grow some balls. This is just pathetic.”

Itadori swallows. “Oh. Can you—?”

Sukuna shoves him off the ledge. A faint yelp travels, followed by a large splash. “Fuck her already. All this sitting and plotting is making my ass itch. If you won’t, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sukuna tilts his head to peer down. Itadori’s eyes are narrowed, uncharacteristically solemn.

His lips bare into a slow grin. “Try me.”

Itadori blinks once. And then vanishes.

Fuck. It’s the only coherent thought his muddled mind can pierce together. He gazes down at his palm, opening and closing languidly. His vision is blurry, spine tingling. He raises the other hand, reaching for his palm.

Mmm. He shakes his head firmly. The sharp tinge of metallic and iron coating his tongue clears the fog a little. The pain fades quickly, muted from his years of conquest and ruin.

Every nerve is on fire. His skin, this flesh cage, burns, an unfamiliar heat curling in his lower stomach. Sukuna is no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh—is well-acquainted, spent much of the centuries indulging in his vast harems. In the haze of blood and carnage, there is the memory of writhing bodies, of soft thighs and breasts, of glazed eyes and cries of his name. Of women fucked into wanton abandon, bred and lost in the worship of his cock.

But this. This heat is foreign in every sense. In its strange intensity and all-encompassing hold. All his senses are heightened but laser focused on the other pair of hands mapping his body. On the addicting sensations they’re inducing.

Can you—? Yes. Yes, he fucking can. He can feel everything and he wants to wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze.

His eyes roll back. Ngh.

“Fucking wench,” he snarls. You’re a fuckin’ tease and if you edge him again, he is going to murder—

“Ah, ah. Watch your language, Sukuna. Ask nicely.”

He jolts. Finds his eyes cloaked in darkness, arms tied to his back and legs spread. Bare, save for a pair of briefs that’s slick and restricting. Kneeling. The sheets bunch beneath him. Every muscle in his body is tensed, body coated in a thin layer of sweat.

This position—!

“That brat—mmph!” Is that a fucking—gag? Did you just gag him? He struggles harder against the binds, but he feels your lips curl into a smile where you’re suckling against the column of his neck.

“You’re powerless here. The binds will restrict you for the next twenty-four hours … unless you can be good.” You trace the thick knots, smiling only growing at the way he lets out a muffled growl.

Every fucking sense is heightened tenfold. He’s on firefirefire. The flames consuming him inside out, like he’s being exorcised from within.

It’s humiliating. It’s exhilarating. It feels—

“King of Curses. I want you to beg.” You’re a witch. You’re enthralling. Temptation incarnate. His head falls forward, chest heaving.

“Mmmmf!”

“What a dirty mouth,” you murmur, and his struggling is renewed when he feels your fingers dig into his thighs.

Oi, brat, he growls. What the hell is this?

His vessel is silent, but the back of his mind prickles. He’s watching. That freaky little shit.

“So stubborn. Let go. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” Fuckfuckfuck, you’re palming his cock over the thin fabric. Maybe it’s been a while, maybe there’s a little more truth lurking beneath it, but he vaguely notes he’s never been so hard before.

You—! You’re fuckin’ burning his briefs off. Ash tickles his nose. A small part of him thinks it’s hot. His cock throbs, and even without visual confirmation, he knows you’ve paused at the sheer size. His mouth curls into a lopsided smirk, dark pride making his chest swell. What was he so worked up for? You’ll just end being another one of his breeding bitches, fucked stupid by his thick, long cock.

But then you pinch his left nipple, twisting harshly. Electricity courses through him and a sound he’s never heard in his absurdly long life escape his lips, muffled by the gag. His back arcs, head hitting the mattress beneath him.

His mind blanks, eyes rolling back as white noise fills his ears.

He rouses slowly.

He blinks lethargically at the ceiling, gaze unfocused. Everything feels muted, limbs heavy like he’s swimming in a pool of ink. But he’s not restrained anymore. There’s a blur of movement in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head to peer at you, half-lidded.

“That’s a very nice expression,” you chuckle, moving to sit by his side. The mattress dips lightly. He lifts a hand to tug at the hem of your outfit, expression twisting at the staggering movement.

“That’s a very nice look on you,” he murmurs in response. You’re wearing one of his vessel’s dress shirts, the oversized fabric falling mid-thigh. It simultaneously swallows you and presses against your curves. Something inside him stirs. His throat feels shot, even though he knows he hasn’t had much of a chance to speak.

You help him sit up, propped against the headrest, before offering him a glass of water. His lips lift into a half-smirk and you sigh, shaking your head but acquiescing. You take a mouthful before kissing him. Water dribbles down his chin.

You wipe it away with a half-fond, half-exasperated expression. His chest tightens.

“How long—?” He tries to move, but you stop him with a firm hand. He’s conflicted at the way his body responds immediately to the touch. His temperature flares despite his obvious fatigue.

“A few hours. I asked if Yuuji would keep you out until you woke.”

There’s a pause, and the knowing look in your eye tells him you know he’s mulling it over.

And then—

He reaches for you, and you set the glass aside to climb on his lap.

He bares his fangs. “Then let’s make the most of it.”

As you press him into the bed, tongue stroking his in such a manner his brain is starting to haze over again quickly, he thinks, brat, we’re going to have a long talk after this.

Sukuna doesn’t expect an answer after his vessel’s continued vigil, so he starts when Itadori replies, she’s ours.

I don’t share, he slurs. He thinks he sees a flicker of Itadori’s grin.

You’re going to have to. Because you like her, too. And she’s the one in control, not either of us.

Dimly, Sukuna acknowledges he’s right. You might be the one bouncing on his cock, but he’s not the one fucking you, you’re the one fucking him.

Fine, he gasps as you run your nails down his abdomen. Deal.

Good, his vessel says. Because I’m next, and you better not get in the way.

He growls, eyebrows knitting.

Your smile only grows.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #itadori smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #sub!sukuna

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Of Immortality and Nymphs

(Philza Minecraft x Reader)

Request 2: Just c!philza simping over reader!!

Requested by: Anonymous

(Okay maybe I got a little carried away with this one...)

~~~

He met her for the first time when he was a young man, who barely understood the world around him. Messing with things he shouldn’t was his specialty so when he heard there used to be Nymphs in the nearby forests, he just had to find out if they were extinct or not. Phil flipped through his worn journal and tapped his quill on the paper, he wanted to document his journey to finding the supposedly mythical creature. After all, this was one of his first real adventures all by himself he wouldn’t accept any form of defeat. He popped the cork off the invisibility potion he had and downed it with one swig. Phil, now hidden, wandered into the forest of the last known location, of the last recorded Nymph. Not being visible to the creatures in the forest allowed Phil to take in the beauty of nature around him, he could get close to the animals and see them in their natural habitat. The forest was beautiful, sunlight peeking in through the leaves of the trees, it was magical. He placed his hand on the trees running his hand over the bark with a smile, Phil heard a soft twinkling in his ear, and his head shot up. Always trigger happy he put his hand on his sword, in the middle of a nearby clearing stood a beautiful woman with gorgeous (h/c) hair. Flowers and leaves seemed to be interwoven within the strands, her ears were elf-like in appearance adorned with gold piercings. Her dress flowed in the wind, it was a soft almost translucent green decorated with leaves, in her hand was a baby chick. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, it was clear she was the Nymph that the old stories were talking about, thank god for the invisibility potion.

Pulling out his journal once more he began to sketch a picture of the elegant woman, he didn’t want to forget her face. The man looked up once more to finish up the sketch and the Nymph was gone, he frowned sadly, he did hope he could get to talk to her.

“What’re you drawing?” Phil snapped his notebook shut letting out a startled yelp, he turned to look at the figure beside him. The potion must’ve worn off when he wasn’t looking, however beside him was said Nymph. His jaw almost dropped open, did she have no self-preservation? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She stepped a few steps back and he held out his arm to stop her.

“No! No, you’re alright!” He put his hand to his heart, “I’m Phil. and you are?”

“(Y/n). Are you human?”

“Tragically,” Phil gave her a little smile as she tilted her head curiously. “Are you a Nymph?” You looked a little hesitant, he watched as your ears twitched in an undeniably cute way. He felt himself melt a little as you gave a nod,

“A Meliae if you want to get specific,” you smiled fondly giving him a teasing wink. Opening his notebook again he scribbled that down next to the figure drawing of you, you sat down in front of him watching in awe, “Is that your language’s written system?” Looking back up at her curious expression Phil once again felt his heartbeat speed up in his chest.

“It is. You’re very clever,” He hummed and was delighted in the way you flushed up to the tips of your ears. You waved him off,

“I’m not that clever. When you’ve been around as long as I have you pick up on certain things,” He watched you carefully as you sat down beside him resting on your knees. Curiously Phil tilted his head,

“How long have you been around?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?” She shot back a grin on her features, oh Phil was in love. Nymphs did tend to have that effect on people, people fall hard and fast for them, but Phil didn’t care.

“My apologies, that was rude of me huh?”

“Very.” She teased with a snicker, “I’ve honestly lost count at this point.”

“You’ve lost track? So you’re immortal then?” Phil’s entire face lit up the excitement prevalent on his features, “Tell me everything.” He pleaded, with a soft laugh you began to share your tale with the man in front of you. Phil was enamored she had lived more lifetimes than he could begin to comprehend, what he wouldn’t do to have that gift. The duo talked long into the evening and well into the next morning, Phil knew he had to head home soon. Not that he had anyone waiting for him back home, but he couldn’t stay with her forever as much as he wanted to. “When can I see you again?” He whispered taking your hands within his own, he couldn’t help but notice how soft they were for someone living in a forest. You hesitantly pressed your finger to his earring,

“They’ll start to glow whenever I’m near. So you can always find me,” You whispered cupping his cheek in your hand, he felt himself lean into it. “I’ll see you soon Phil,” You leaned forward pressing a tender kiss to his lips before disappearing in a flurry of flowers and leaves. Phil let out a shaky breath bringing his fingers to his lips a wild smile appearing across them. He opened his journal one last time adding ‘great kissers’ to his list of things about the Nymph of the forest.

They met many more times after that, and with each meeting, Phil only fell more and more in love with her. He wanted to protect you and keep you safe especially after telling him that Nymphs were hunted for their tears that give immortality but now without the expense of the Nymph. Yet even with his pleading, you wouldn’t leave the forest you called home. You told him maybe one day you could, but you were the only Nymph protecting the forest and you had to stay to protect your home. Ever the gentleman Phil would drop the conversation and steer it into another direction said direction ended with a lot of kissing.

As the years flew by Phil found himself growing older and you remaining the same and as beautiful as ever, he wanted to be immortal with you. He never wanted to lose you, so he made a deal with the God of undying, sacrificing his three lives for one immortal life so he could remain by your side forever. He’d also have to give up part of his humanity, he was bestowed giant black crow-like wings. But he’d do anything so long as he got to be by your side for the rest of eternity. Phil didn’t want to tell you at first, afraid you’d be mad but it was hard to hide giant black wings and the man could never stay far away from you. When he finally saw you again you knew what went down practically immediately. Surprisingly you took it much better than he originally thought, you seemed to flattered beyond belief but also pissed as hell. Desperately you tried to explain to him that immortality wasn’t a gift but a curse, seeing the world change around you while you stay young forever wasn’t as fun as it sounded. The man scoffed, shooting back a comment of his own about how he didn’t want to imagine a world without you by his side. You didn’t deserve to lose someone you loved just because they were mortal and he stood by that.

He watched your face scrunch up, cheeks turning pink at his sentiment. Mostly because you were melting around his words and he knew it too by the smirk evident on his features. Phil locked eyes with you and smiled endearingly,

“I love you.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Fucking what-” He choked on his spit any argument that started before fizzled out the minute you had told you said those two words to him. He felt his features morphed in surprise before wrapping you in a tight suffocating hug. That only solidified his choices, he made the right decision, he needed to stay by you and your child’s side so long as the universe allowed him to.

However, things weren’t all peaches and rainbows as the world changed to a dark and dismal place once more. Forests were being burned and destroyed and humans once again discovered the existence of Nymphs and wanted to hunt them down for sport. Things were dangerous, way too dangerous for you and the newborn son you shared with Phil. Reluctantly you and Phil came to a decision, to protect your baby you needed to leave, it was the only way to keep them safe. You held the baby close to your chest, tears swelling in your eyes as Phil kissed your cheeks trying to shush you softly. “It’s alright…” His voice was gentle, his big hand caressing the boy’s chocolate brown curls.

“It’s not alright. Phil...I don’t wanna leave you or Wilbur.” Your voice quivered and Phil’s heart shattered in pieces, “But his safety comes first.” You brought the baby up to your lips and kissed his forehead, he giggled sweetly trying to squish his mother’s cheeks. You laughed as he did so, “My sweet, lovely boy. I’ll have to leave you for a while, I don’t want to but you need to be kept safe. I…” Phil frowned watching as you choked up once more, “I’m not safe.” Even through your tears, Phil thought you were beautiful, “You can’t tell him about me…”

“(Y/n) I can’t- That’s just not fair-” You shushed him with a kiss to his lips, passing Wilbur off to him.

“If he’s anything like his father he’ll lose his mind searching for his mother. He needs to live his life.” You reached up holding Phil’s chin on your pointer finger, “He has to live life to its fullest, Nothing can hold him back. It has to stay this way until I can come back. Which I will...hopefully it won’t be too long.” You smiled up at him and Phil took in a shaky breath,

“What if I ruin him.” His voice was painfully tight holding his grip on Wilbur tightening as well, it made the baby squirm. You shushed him softly, pressing a kiss to his lips, his scruff tickling your chin. To him the kisses always felt electric, never devoid of passion and adoration, he leaned forward to chase those addicting lips as you pulled away.

“You won’t ruin him, you’re the most gentle and kind man I’ve ever met. You took care of me all these years, you’ll be amazing for Wilby.” Phil watched as you kissed Wilbur one last time before stepping away with a shaky breath. “Just be as good to him as you are to me,” You both heard the crunch of leaves, it caused you to jump a little looking around the forest frantically.

“Go. We’ll be fine. Just stay safe and come back to us okay?” You could only nod at him before disappearing in a gust of leaves and flowers. Phil felt his heartache and he jolted as Wilbur began to cry seemingly already missing the presence of his mother. “Oh Wilbur hush, hush for me please,” His father pleaded as he began to rock him gently this was going to be a lot harder than he would ever anticipate, but to keep you safe he’d give up the entire world.

~~~

Decades went by, Phil had not only Wilbur to watch over but three more idiotic kids, others adopted of course. Wilbur had grown up into a strapping young man, got married, and had a son, you would be so proud of him. You’d spoil Fundy rotten, he just knew you would, he was sure you’d also spoil Tommy and Tubbo. Not to mention you’d force your motherly affection all over Technoblade and he wouldn’t have a choice but to open up to you.

However, none of them even knew you existed, lies were told about who Wilbur’s mother was when any of them asked and it killed him on the inside to lie about you. Eventually, Wilbur just stopped asking, most likely assuming something bad happened that Phil never wanted to discuss with him. Something far too painful to even tell his son about,

Which was half right he supposed.

It started like any other day, Tommy and Wilbur were messing around with Dream, something about discs and war that Phil didn’t particularly care about. Wilbur had come over once again to plead with Phil for aid in the war, but once again he refused him. This time he even brought Fundy along thinking that seeing his grandson might change the older man’s mind. However, he still refused knowing it wasn’t going to end well in the long run even if Wilbur did win. Sometimes kids had to make their own mistakes to learn about the future. It’s not like he hadn’t told Wil it wouldn’t end well, he did multiple times, but the kid was just as stubborn as he was and wasn’t going to back down.

“Dad, please. If you’d just join in we’d slay Dream and his team, all the fighting will come to an end. The nation I’m trying to create would finally be free and safe. Just help me.” Wilbur pleaded, a small whine slipping into his voice as he followed Phil and his son into the forest, “We can establish our new nation and be free from tyranny. No more war, isn’t that what you keep advocating for?” Wilbur continued to rant, not helping at all with his chores, his voice grew soft suddenly, and Fundy grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket.

“What is it, kid?”

“Your earring’s glowing pops.” Fundy pointed to his ear and Phil froze in place the wood that he collected falling out of his hands, scattering all over the forest floor.

“Dad?” Wilbur repeated his voice growing louder in concern, Phil looked around the clearing frantically before bolting in a random direction.

“Grandpa!?” Fundy yelled chasing off after him, his tail puffing up anxiously,

“Fundy don’t just run off!”

Phil didn’t stick around to hear them, you were around here somewhere the question was where. His heart was beating erratically in his chest, please, please god let him find you. He didn’t have to wait long, he’d recognize you anywhere you still looked the same. Standing in the middle of a flower field you looked over your shoulder, “(Y/n)! Darling!” He called out choking a little on his words, your (e/c) eyes blew wide and he heard you laugh. You ran up to him flowers growing in your wake, you launched himself at the man and he lifted you in his arms. He spun you around laughing in disbelief, using his wings you both floated in the air, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, “I can’t believe you’re here.” Phil whispered, pulling away to cup your cheeks with your hands, “you’re real.”

“Of course I’m here silly goose. I told you I’d come back didn’t I?” You laughed fondly as he began to pepper your face in kisses, “Even if it is way later than I intended…” You trailed off with a small wince,

“Who cares. You’re here now and you’re safe.” He landed a kiss on your lips as you kissed him back. You tasted just as he remembered like fresh air and oranges, he wanted to swallow you whole. He never wanted to let you go again, and he never would if he had a say in the matter.

“Dad? What the fuck?” Wilbur blurted as Fundy and he came upon the clearing, you pulled away from Phil. Tears filling your eyes, your hands coming up to cover your mouth, Phil rested a hand on the small of your back.

“Wilby…” She whispered, stumbling towards the man reaching out towards him, he raised an eyebrow and flinched away from your touch. You pulled your hand back taking a little breath,

“I’m sorry. How do you know my name?” From behind you, Phil flinched; he knew that’s what you wanted, for him not to remember you. But, fuck he felt guilty about it, he was about to feel even more guilty in a minute.

“She’s your mom Wilbur.”

“Fucking WHAT.” Wilbur sputtered taking a few steps back from the woman, “You told me my mom was a fridge!”

“You told him what.” You turned towards Phil, eyes blazing with annoyance, he held his hands up in surrender. “Why would you tell him his mother was a fridge! I know I told you to lie but a fridge! Phil that’s not even physically possible!” You scolded the man crossing your arms over your chest, his face flushed a bright red. He even missed you yelling and scolding him, he was down bad.

“(Y/n) I panicked-” Phil started to explain and you cut him off with an eye roll. “I’m sorry okay, I love you.”

Meanwhile, Wilbur and Fundy looked in between the two adults rapidly as they talked. Both equally shocked and at a loss for words, Wilbur took a step forward and grabbed your wrist.

“Please continue your explanation,” He commanded softly, “If you are my mom why did you leave? Why haven’t you been here?” Wilbur frowned as he watched you look away from him,

“How much do you know about Nymphs Wilbur?” Wilbur turned bright red and the color reached up onto the tips of his ears, “What?”

“My mom’s a Nymph.” Fundy spoke up in place of Wilbur, “her name’s Sally. I...I’m Wilbur’s son.” He watched your face melt and mouth a broken ‘son?’, Phil noticed and walked up to squeeze your hand. You had missed so much, you hoped you didn’t blame yourself, you and Phil lived too long to live with that many regrets.

“What happened to her?” You asked tenderly,

“Killed.” Wilbur said bluntly, “by hunters. Don’t worry, I made sure to dispose of them.”

“I-I’m so sorry.” You spoke and Wilbur couldn’t help but feel compelled into your arms. Something about you just made him want to melt into your body, he knew Phil was right in the end. You were his mother through and through, I mean the shared pointed ears said enough.

“Is that why you left?” Fundy asked walking over to stand beside Wilbur, Fundy’s ears pressing against his head. They both watched you nod and Phil tightened his grip on your arm, you took in another deep breath. His hand moved to wrap securely around your waist, he was here for you. He’d always be here for you.

“When you were born, the hunters were far worse, there were much more of them. Greater numbers and they sniffed out Nymphs like hunting dogs to a rabbit. I couldn’t keep a newborn baby safe, especially one that was half Nymph...Which probably explains why Fundy’s part fox, he has more Nymph in him.” The fox hybrid seemed to light up at even the inclination that he was special in any way, shape, or form. “It was safer for me to be as far away from the both of you as possible, and I was right considering you grew up into a handsome young man with a family of his own.” You chuckled fondly leaning into Phil’s touch. “But I can understand if you don’t trust me or want to get to know me,” You smiled sadly at the man Fundy spoke up before Wilbur could.

“No! We want to get to know you grandma!” He blurted taking your hands in his own, you melted at the adorable way his eyes lit up. You glanced up at Wilbur who Phil totally wasn’t threatening with his eyes,

“I…” The man looked hesitant, but as he stared into your warm eyes once more he felt encapsulated within them. His longing for a motherly figure in his lips came back at full force and washed over him like a tidal wave. He had a mother and she was safe and here and willing to come back into his life if he was ready.

Was he ready? Why did he feel ready?

“Fuck that hesitance she’s grandma,” You let out a delighted laugh ruffling up Fundy’s hair, his tail wagging elatedly behind him.

“Don’t spoil him, love.”

“Fuck you, I’m spoiling the hell out of my grandson. Gotta make it up to him somehow.” Fundy’s tail only wagged harder as he wrapped you in a tight hug, you hugged him back just as tightly.

“Hey, Hey move over champion. I get to hug my mom now.” Wilbur snapped defensively, as Fundy snickered only looking up at him mischievously hugging you tighter. You laughed in delight seeing Wilbur huff, Phil melted against you in relief. Wilbur’s face was scrunching up the exact way you do when you’re pissed, he smiled against the side of your head. Wilbur pushed his son to the side gently and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, he towered over you but couldn’t help but bury his face in your neck. You cooed softly and ran your fingers through his hair, he was gone the moment you did so, melting in your arms completely.

Without you noticing Phil took a step away from the group just to admire the moment from an outsider’s perspective. For what felt like the hundredth time that hour Phil felt light, he felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders. Everything was right in the universe again, you were finally holding your not-so-little boy in your arms again after all these years. Even if you did have a fox hanging off you as well, Phil let out a soft chuckle looking at the three with adoration. A long time ago he gave up his mortality and humanity for you, after you left he had pleaded to the gods once more, he swore he would give up anything for just one more day with you by his side. They had ignored his wishes, they knew without a doubt you’d be back in his arms again, and this time he wouldn’t have to give up a single thing.

~~~

Okay but actually I had so much fun writing this??? Maybe even a Pt. II?

1K notes · View notes

foenixs · 2 years

Text

69 attempts later...

note: I pre-wrote this on my typewriter without doing a word count and guess how many words this fic has... exactly 690! coincidence? I think not!

word count: 690

includes- sub!Sehun x dom!f!reader, 69ing (m on top), rim job, oral/cunnilingus

if you like my fics please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

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

Sehun’s eyes stared intently at the glowing screen. His tongue was slightly hanging out of his mouth, and you could count the pearls of sweat trickling down his neck.

You silently move up behind him, your hand gliding through his hair as soon as it’s in reach.

Sehun shivers as your breath fans against his skin, alerting him of your presence. You begin to leave a trail of kisses down his neck and his tense shoulders relax at the comfort of your touch.

He sighs, leaning back into his chair in frustration.

“I’ve been trying to beat this level for almost and hour, but I keep dying at this one point…”

His breath was loud, and his heart was beating so fast it almost jumped out of his chest.

“Mhh, maybe you should take a break, join me in bed.”

The offer was tempting but you knew how stubborn he could be. There was no point in trying to reason with him when he was in one of his competitive moods.

“Fine, guess I’ll have to use my own fingers then, since yours are busy.”

Sehun gulps, his pointer finger tapping rapidly against his mouse.

You make a turn, but he suddenly rolls back his chair and grabs onto your wrist to stop you from leaving.

“Wait, you’re right, I should take a break and it seems like you’re in more desperate need of help than I am with this game.”

You can’t help but chuckle as you watch his cheeks turn red at his own words.

You swiftly pull him out of his chair and push him onto the soft linens of your bed, which was waiting on the other side of the room. Straddling his lap, you grab onto his collar to pull him in for a rough kiss.

It didn’t take much to turn him on and the soft yet dirty feeling of your tongue against his own was enough to tighten his pants.

You grind your hips onto his erection, making him moan into your mouth. Flipping the two of you over you swiftly take off his pants and he does the same to yours.

“Sit on my face.”, you demand, and he immediately obeys.

His hard cock slaps against your necks as he sinks onto your precious features. He bends down to expose his puckering hole and you spread your legs so he can play with your clit.

You let your tongue run over his hot skin, teasing his rim and his short nails dig into your hips desperately.

Sehun harshly sucks your clit, as if it gave him some kind of halt or comfort, but the ruthless teasing of your tongue made him weak beyond belief.

Breathless moans of your name fall from his lips as you gently masse his balls with one hand.

He tries his best to please you with his tongue, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything but your magical wet digit.

“Fuck”, his curses were muffled by your throbbing heat, and you could feel hot drips of precum decorate your torso.

His thighs were shaking next to your shoulders as you push your tongue past his pink rim,

He absentmindedly licks your sensitive bundle of nerves as he pushes his ass back onto your tongue.

Sehun’s eyes were crossed, and his vision became blurry as his stomach tensed up and he could feel his orgasm coming.

You calmly caress his twitching thigh as you let go of his balls and rub the tip of his cock in your palm.

His hips stutter, then he jolts, as you tug on his tip and push your tongue into his hole once more.

He almost bites your clit in surprise as he cums, hard, and spurts semen onto your chest.

His heavy breaths tickle your heat, and you reach down to finish yourself off. Thrusting yourself up against his tongue, you moan his name as you cum and Sehun eagerly licks you clean.

You gently tap his ass as to say: “Well done, baby!”, and he hums against your pussy satisfied.

That, indeed, had been much more rewarding than his game.

masterlist

tagging: @sannieshines who was thirsting over this concept with me

232 notes · View notes

minshookie · 3 years

Text

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

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august-anon · 2 years

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Constellations

This has been in my backlog for several months, and it was also written before I had reread Wayward Son and finally read Any Way the Wind Blows so not the most accurate idk lol

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Fandom: Carry On/Simon Snow

Ship(s): SnowBaz

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Simon/Ler!Baz

Word Count: 1395 words

Summary: Baz fulfills his dream of kissing all Simon’s freckles. Simon is a little too ticklish to handle it.

Warnings: mouth tickles (kissing)

[ao3 link]

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Baz

While I had remained top of our year for the entire time we were at Watford, there were things that I could admit I didn’t have as much knowledge on as others. Bunce -- and even Wellbelove -- for example, knew a great deal more about the constellations than I did. I simply didn’t see the point in it.

Perhaps it was because there was a set of stars I was much more interested in.

Snow had a plethora of moles and freckles scattered across his tawny skin. They spotted across his chest and back, trailed down his arms, dotted up his neck. One time, in fifth year, I accidentally saw Snow in just his boxers and learned that the moles were not only contained to his upper body. The sight did nothing to help my frustration that year.

Many of my more innocent fantasies involved kissing every single one of those marks, every one I could find. Tracing them with my lips and tongue and teeth as Snow sighed beneath me. It used to piss me off beyond belief. Now, with the fantasy in full reach, it just left me yearning. It’s not like I could just tell Snow, “Hey, I want you to take off your shirt so I can kiss all your freckles.”

It took an agonizingly long time for my dreams to come to life, with how slow we wound up taking things in our relationship. It probably had something to do with the beginning of our relationship being in the midst of so many traumatic events and needing to heal from them. Either way, it took far too long before Simon was shirtless in front of me where I was free to touch.

Which is where we are now.

Simon’s shirt is off and mine is halfway unbuttoned. He’s kissing me and my hands trail up his back, massaging into the base of his wings with my fingers to make him sigh and groan. We probably aren’t moving past kissing tonight, but that’s fine by me. As long as I get to kiss Simon, I’m happy.

Which is horribly sappy. I would never say that out loud.

Simon pulls back for air and I immediately go for his neck. There’s a specific mole there that I treat like a target, and Simon grins almost every time I kiss it. Then I trail my lips down to a freckle on his collarbone. Then on his left pectoral.

I glance up at him before going any lower. While kissing every mole has always been a thought in my mind, it may not be a thought in Simon’s. I wouldn’t want to do anything he’s not happy with. Simon, however, is staring down at me with hooded eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks rosy.

He makes no move to stop me.

Simon

Baz is moving like a man on a mission. He targeted that one mole again, and I thought he’d be back on my lips immediately after, but then he kissed another one, and another one. It seemed like he had a plan, and who was I to get in the way of that?

Baz pushes me back onto the bed, and my wings flap on instinct to help balance us and slow our descent. Baz winds up on top of me, leering down at me, and it’s a view I’m not used to. Usually I’m the one above him on all fours, pressing him into the carpet or mattress, making him lean up to capture my lips.

It makes me feel wanted.

I’m feeling rather wanted now, too, as Baz lowers his lips to a freckle right in the center of my sternum. He doesn’t break eye contact the whole time, and I can feel my ears and cheeks going red. I reach a hand down to run through his hair and he goes a little bit pink too.

I wonder if it’s because he’s not blushing that much, or if it’s because he needs to feed soon.

And then Baz’s lips touch down to a mole at the top of my stomach and every thought leaves my mind. Every thought except for the words oh shit.

I had somehow forgotten that I was ticklish.

My stomach flinches without my permission and Baz jerks back. Watching me, he slowly, almost hesitantly, leans back down to press a kiss on another mark on my stomach, just a couple inches to the right of that one. My stomach flinches again. This time I can’t help my sharp intake of breath.

“Simon?” Baz asks.

And it’s embarrassing to admit, especially to someone like Baz. The only person who knows me better than him is probably Penny, and that’s just because Baz was my enemy for so long. Ticklishness is definitely something you don’t want your enemy knowing. I’m not sure it’s something I want my boyfriend knowing, either.

Baz was absolutely the type to take advantage of such a weakness.

Not that I would necessarily mind that. But that was absolutely something I wouldn’t be admitting to Baz. I at least owed Baz the “ticklish” explanation, though.

“I’m just a little ticklish s’all,” I mumble. “It’s no big deal.”

A slow grin spreads over Baz’s face. “A little ticklish?” He asks.

I wish I could say that I immediately regretted my decision. Instead, Baz’s clear plotting sends a thrill of butterflies through my belly.

I knew he was the type to take advantage.

Baz

Something about the look on Snow’s face tells me that he’s far more than a little ticklish. That, and how much his stomach jumped when I barely even pressed my lips to it. No stomach that’s just a little ticklish jumps that much at being touched.

I am absolutely taking advantage of this.

The thing is, Snow doesn’t quite look like he minds. In fact, I’d say he looks rather giddy. I decide to spare him the embarrassment of calling him out on it for now. I’ll save that for later. The great secret of Simon Snow liking tickling. I wonder how red he’ll turn when I finally tell him I know.

With the mystery of the jumping stomach resolved, my lips find their way back onto Simon’s skin. There’s a whole smattering of marks across his stomach and sides, ripe for the kissing. Simon’s already giggling by the third one, and it’s getting difficult to purse my lips for a kiss around my grin. I keep going, though. Nothing’s going to keep me from kissing every single one of these freckles.

I’m feeling a bit evil, tonight. When Simon tosses his head back with a particularly high-pitched giggle, I bring my hands up to spider against his sides. Simon’s laughter jumps and I chuckle into his skin. He squirms at my breath.

“Having fun?” I ask.

Simon doesn’t answer. At least, not verbally. I think the blush coming up to stain his cheeks is answer enough.

He squeals when I start kissing freckles again, his hands tangling in my hair. He doesn’t push me away, though, which only strengthens my belief that he loves this. I don’t mind. I love it, too. Who wouldn’t love getting to turn their boyfriend into a pile of mushy grins and laughter?

I do eventually get through all the freckles on the front of Simon’s torso, even as he howls and cackles beneath me. I’m having too much fun to stop now, though. I start the circuit again, kissing every mole within reach. And again, and again, and again.

Simon is wheezing below me by the time I’m finished. He’s pushing weakly at my head and arms. I pull back with a chuckle, choosing to instead rest my chin on his chest and peer up at him. He’s panting. Still giggling, even. He’s red-faced and teary-eyed and the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.

I trace patterns in his moles as he calms down, the touch just barely enough to keep him giggling. He doesn’t protest. He kisses my forehead through his giggles.

“Having fun?” I ask again.

“Don’t be so smug,” Snow replies, kissing my forehead again. It’s answer enough.

Maybe I didn’t spend enough time studying the patterns of the stars in the sky. But I’ll spend the rest of my life studying the pattern of the stars on Simon’s skin.

#tickle fic #my writing #carry on tickling #lee!simon #ler!baz #ticklish!simon #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz

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tickly-trashcan · 3 years

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Behind the Bushes {ObaMitsu}

A/N: babe this was so direct pls fnjkddj you got me flustereddd LMAO but thank you for requesting,,, ily. ANYWAY uhh this was fun to write bc obamitsu is a big otp for me and i love their dynamic and just,,, man. I changed up one of the prompts wording a lil bit just to make it fit a bit better! I hope you enjoy! :D

Summary: During a trip to the Butterfly Mansion, Obanai says something... interesting.

Word Count: 1.2k (under the cut)

Obanai walked through the Butterfly Mansion, where he had just been treated for a light injury. He hadn’t been very compliant, but after much convincing, he had agreed to go. Shinobu had lightly teased him before helping with his arm, performing an extra examination to make sure he was in good enough shape to go back on the field.

Mitsuri had walked in, already excitedly chatting up Shinobu about something before she noticed Obanai sitting next to her. She had flushed immediately, greeting Obanai. She quickly trotted out, apologizing for intruding, and Shinobu giggled.

“Oh my~ Seems you scared her off,” She teased, making Obanai grumble. She finished her checkup and sent Obanai on his way, welcoming in her next patient. Obanai walked around the corner, nearly bumping into Mitsuri as she yelped.

“Ah, hello again Iguro!” She said quickly. She looked around, then quickly dipped her head down a bit and pressed a quick kiss to Obanai’s cheek. He felt his cheeks warm and he hissed softly.

“Not here, Kanroji-”

“But Igurooo!”

Obanai rolled his eyes. He had recently started… going out with Mitsuri, and while they were both excited, they tried to keep it under wraps. He looked around himself, blushing slightly before wrapping his arms around Mitsuri’s waist, pulling her in for a quick hug. He wasn’t big on affection normally, but something about Mitsuri changed that.

Mitsuri giggled, hugging Obanai back and lightly pinching his sides. He jolted, pulling away to glare at Mitsuri as she chirped.

“I couldn’t help it!” She said, raising her hands innocently. Obanai grumbled.

Ever since getting together, Mitsuri had also discovered a little secret of Obanai’s. She didn’t tell anyone about it, but she couldn’t help messing with him a little bit over it. So every now and then, there was an occasional poke to his side or scribble up his ribs.

He didn’t necessarily mind it, just as long as she didn’t do it in front of others, which she was always careful to do. But something about it still bugged him.

They walked through the hall together, chatting about this and that, occasionally passing another resident of the Butterfly Mansion. Mitsuri made an odd turn at one point, but Obanai followed anyway because he wanted to keep chatting with her. She led him to one of the courtyards, where there were no people, just butterflies.

“I found this really pretty flower when I was walking through here the other day, I wanna show you!”

Obanai followed as Mitsuri guided him to a small bush of pink camellias, pointing to one that was dotted with magenta. She smiled as Obanai leaned down next to it, allowing Kaburamaru to get a close look at it. Mitsuri reached her hand out for Kaburamaru, who slid into her palms and up her arm to her shoulders, where he rested once more.

She looked at Obanai, who had been watching, quickly turning away when they made eye contact. Mitsuri grinned.

“You’re allowed to look at me, y’know~” She teased lightly, pinching Obanai’s side once more as he jumped. He huffed.

Maybe it was the fact that she had done it so often without fully committing, or maybe it was just Obanai’s own impatience, but he couldn’t stop the next words that came out of his mouth. “Can you just tickle me already?”

Both Obanai and Mitsuri paused for several moments after that. Mitsuri opened her mouth then closed it again, and Obanai felt his face warm. He turned, standing and quickly trying to walk away, but Mitsuri grabbed his wrist, holding him tight.

“Wait, come sit.”

Obanai’s brain was telling him to just get away so he could stew in embarrassment, but his heart made him sit down next to Mitsuri. He looked down at his hands, refusing to make eye contact with her as she chuckled. Obanai felt his face burn just a little more.

“Do you want me to?”

Obanai said nothing, all he was focused on was how hot his face was getting. Mitsuri sighed, setting Kaburamaru down next to her as she placed her hands on Obanai’s hips, making him flinch.

“I’m going to, but if you want me to stop just let me know!”

Obanai couldn’t even come up with let alone get out a response before Mitsuri’s nimble fingers were tracing his hips lightly. He jumped, quickly looking around as he held back giggles, making sure no one was around. Mitsuri noticed this and giggled.

“Don’t worry, no one comes around here. Besides, no one can see us behind the flower bush.”

Obanai squeaked when Mitsuri started to knead his hips, and he quickly grabbed onto her wrists, giggles spilling over despite his best efforts to keep them held back. Mitsuri smiled widely at the sound of Obanai’s gentle laughter and kept up her soft tickles, lightly kneading his hipbone as he jolted, more giggles pouring out.

“Kaha-Kanroji, wahait! Nohoho, please-”

He was cut off with a gasp when Mitsuri squeezed right where his hips and thighs met, his raspy giggles increasing as she chuckled, humming a tune as she worked, making Obanai even more embarrassed.

“Hmm~ You know, you’re pretty cute when you laugh like this!” Mitsuri quipped, and Obanai felt his face warm even more. Mitsuri giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his pink cheeks, cooing at how warm they were.

“HAha! Wahait, Kanroji, not thehehere!” Obanai tittered loudly, slapping a hand over his mouth to try and keep himself quieter. Mitsuri hummed, teasing his upper thighs with light kneads as she leaned forward a bit. She whined.

“Awh, Iguro! Don’t keep your cute laugh away from me!”

She gently pulled Obanai’s hand away, chuckling when he looked back down at the ground in an attempt to hide his pink face. Mitsuri went back to the spot where his hips and thighs met and scribbled her fingers against it, making Obanai gasp and jerk, lurching forward onto Mitsuri’s shoulder.

Now this was more embarrassing than before, but Obanai was too overwhelmed by the ticklish sensations to really care. Mitsuri only laughed as she continued to work gently on Obanai’s thighs, creeping up to his tummy as he hissed through his laughter. He quickly dissolved into more raspy giggles though, and when Mitsuri surprised him again with a gentle squeeze of his thigh, he snorted.

“Did you just snort?” Mitsuri said with a soft laugh, and Obanai immediately shook his head, embarrassed beyond belief. Mitsuri hummed, pressing a light kiss to Obanai’s temple before she giggled.

“You’re so cute, Iguro.”

Obanai couldn’t handle much more teasing and tickling, but he couldn’t manage to ask her to stop. All he could do was laugh softly, taking the tickles that Mitsuri was continuously dishing out.

“Kahahanroji! Plehehease!” Obanai blurted random pleas, eventually overtaken by laughter as Mitsuri slowed her fingers, still gently dancing against his hips.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Obanai nodded quickly, and Mitsuri pulled her hands away. Before Obanai could pull away from Mitsuri, however, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug, chuckling.

“I love you~” She said quietly, and Obanai felt his face warm for the umpteenth time that day, nodding his head slowly.

“I… love you too.”

#obamitsu #obanai #mitsuri #demon slayer #tickle fic #anon #but not really anon hehe

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sleepdeprivedsloth · 3 years

Text

In the Dead of Night

[MHA - Midoriya, Bakugou]

summary: Not wanting to return to a nightmare, Bakugou spends the night alone in the common area. That is, until Midoriya finds him and tries to get his old friend to open up with an effective technique from their childhood. (platonic BakuDeku tickle fic)

potential warnings: swearing, tickling

words: 1.5 k

a/n: ahhh my first fic!! …kinda hoping no one sees this but yeah imma post it anyways haha. hopefully whoever ends up reading this will enjoy it! happy national tickle day guys :D

Bakugou stared blankly out of one of the windows in the common area, gazing into the empty void that was the night sky. He rarely ever was awake during the dead of night, but yet here he was. Sleeplessly seated on the couch, long past the time his classmates all retired to their dorms.

He would much rather be asleep, heaven knew he needed the rest, but he was not going to risk returning to his nightmare. The experience felt more like he actually relived the sludge monster incident rather than only a dream. He could never willingly go back to that.

His mind being in its own world, Bakugou didn’t quite catch the faint sound of footsteps that grew closer. He vaguely recognized the familiar noises of the refrigerator door opening and closing before he was brought back from his daze by a hand offering him a bottle of water in front of his eyes.

Bakugou looked up and spotted no other than Izuku freaking Midoriya. He felt his facial features try to form a glare out of a force of habit, but his body was too exhausted to actually comply. Reluctantly, he grabbed the water bottle and took a sip as the green-haired boy wordlessly sat on the opposite end of the couch.

Midoriya, whose brain was still in the waking-up process, had just been awakened a few moments ago with his throat strongly craving for some cold water. Maybe it was due to the fact that his mind was still a bit clouded with sleep, or that the two boys had been sitting in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, but Midoriya actually broke the silence and spoke up.

“What are you doing up at such a late hour?” he asked, turning slightly in his seat so that he could study Bakugou’s reactions. Midoriya didn’t know what he expected as a response, probably a snarky reply or just outright rage, but what he received definitely shocked him.

Bakugou completely ignored him and avoided any chance of eye contact by staring straight ahead. It was as if he didn’t know that his classmate was sitting not even three feet away from him. Midoriya immediately became more attentive and alert, his Kacchan Radar going off like crazy. Bakugou never missed an opportunity to pick a fight with or insult anyone, especially Midoriya.

To his credit, Midoriya took a moment to consider his options. He could go interrogation mode on Bakugou, but he doubted that the blonde would actually open up to him like that. Maybe he could just sit there in silence until Bakugou willingly chose to talk to him, but that could honestly take days. Of course, he could go back to his dorm and leave Bakugou alone, which was probably the option that his classmate would have wanted him to choose, but when was Midoriya even known for actually pleasing Bakugou?

Suddenly Midoriya remembered a technique that had never failed him back when he and Bakugou were younger. A method that they had both been sworn to secrecy about, and hadn’t been used in years.

“Why are you down here so late, Kacchan?” Midoriya asked again, grinning slightly, this time punctuating the other’s name with a poke to his side.

Bakugou let out a quiet yelp, obviously not expecting a small tingling sensation to suddenly shoot through his entire body. He internally cursed himself for showing a reaction and flinching away from the touch.

Still awaiting a response, Midoriya dared to poke again, but before his finger could come in contact with the boy’s body, Bakugou abruptly brought himself to his feet and made a move to leave the common area.

Midoriya quickly and quietly followed suit, walking up behind his unsuspecting classmate. He tasered his index and middle fingers into both of Bakugou’s sides, latching onto them and relentlessly digging in. “C’mon Kacchan, talk to me!”

Bakugou had to squeeze his eyes shut and cover his mouth with one hand to prevent himself from making any noises that could potentially wake up his classmates. He desperately tried to fight off Midoriya’s fingers with his other hand (emphasis on “tried”), but he was too tired physically and mentally to actually get away.

With the advantage of the surprise attack on his side, Midoriya was able to keep the minimally thrashing Bakugou in his grasp. Being the teasing shit that he is, Midoriya taunted, “I bet you wanna laugh, huh Kacchan? Go on, you’ll feel better if you just let it out.”

“N-no I w-won’t!” Bakugou argued from behind his hand, struggling to keep the laughter building up inside of his throat under control. “If we w-weren’t in the dorms right now I would not he-hesitate to blast your ass into nehext week.”

Midoriya gave a playful, over-dramatic gasp. “Did the Kacchan just giggle?” He moved his hands up to Bakugou’s ribs and started scribbling his fingers against them, causing the boy’s weak wall of defense to come crumbling down. As Bakugou’s little laughs started leaking out, Midoriya continued wiggling along the sensitive bones and drilling into the grooves between them. “I am now officially addicted, I must hear mor-”

“Hehehaha Deheheku quirk! Quhuhuhuirk!”

Midoriya immediately recognized the meaning of the word and stopped his tickling, letting his own arms drop to his sides. He watched as Bakugou bent over, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, trying to regain his self-control.

Meanwhile, Midoriya’s head began to flood with memories from his childhood, when the two boys had tickle fights almost on a daily basis. To prevent one of them from pushing the other past their limits, they had decided to use “quirk” as some sort of safeword. Midoriya was a bit surprised that he had immediately understood Bakugou’s intended context of the word, considering that it hadn’t been used for what felt like forever.

A soft, sentimental smile crossed Midoriya's face as he caught a glimpse of Bakugou's face for the first time since tickling him. The blonde’s lips were brought upwards in a reluctant smile and a light blush, most likely from embarrassment, dusted his cheeks. If only Midoriya had a camera to capture the rare moment.

“Did it really tickle so much that you had to call “quirk?”” Midoriya questioned, genuinely curious if he had gone too far.

Being somewhat in control of his own body again, Bakugou stood to his full height and faced his former best friend. If Midoriya noticed that his arms were still wrapped around and protecting his ribs, he didn’t say anything. “Of course it wasn’t that bad, dumbass. I-” Bakugou paused for a moment before looking away from Midoriya and continuing in a whispered voice. “I just didn’t want to risk making too much noise and waking anyone up and…”

He didn’t have to finish his thought for Midoriya to catch on to what he meant. He easily realized that Bakugou didn’t want any of their classmates to find out that he’s ticklish, which was understandable.

Midoriya nodded, showing Bakugou that he didn’t need to further explain. They stood in silence for a moment before the greenette chose to speak up again. “So why are you down here so late at night instead of sleeping in your dorm?”

Bakugou’s body visibly stiffened as he quickly cast his gaze towards the floor. If he hadn’t been exhausted beyond belief and still recovering from those nimble fingers that definitely did not tickle him, he probably would have told Midoriya to screw off and mind his own business. But instead, he answered, “If you really must know, shitty Deku, I had a dream about the damn sludge villain. I didn’t wanna deal with that shit again, so I just came down here to wait out until morning.”

Midoriya knew from experience that Bakugou didn’t want comforting words or pity. That would only make him feel even more vulnerable than he already was, and that wasn’t Midoriya’s intention. So instead, he simply replied in an indifferent tone, “Oh, alright then. Mind if I wait out here too then?”

Not waiting for an answer, Midoriya walked back to the couch and sat back down, spreading out comfortably but still leaving more than enough room for Bakugou. The last thing he wanted was for his former childhood best friend to have to recover from a nightmare alone. But he would never say it out loud, for Bakugou’s sake.

Two minutes passed before Bakugou inevitably decided to walk over and take the seat next to the other boy. Midoriya looked over and caught his classmate’s eye, nodding slightly to him with a small smile before turning back to gaze outside of the window.

Having gone from childhood best friends, to bully and victim, to rivals, to… wherever their relationship stood now, the two boys shared a strong bond that neither of them knew how to describe. But just being in each others’ presence in the dead of night, enjoying the silence between them, was comforting.

However, the pair would definitely not be feeling so relaxed if they hadn’t failed to notice a certain pink-haired alien queen that managed to capture a short, incriminating video before excitedly running off back to her dorm only a few mere moments ago.

a/n: thanks for reading, and i hope you guys liked it! i’m still working on that fandom list but yeah MHA will definitely be on there lol. i’ll try to update again soon but until then have a great life y’all!!

#bnha #bnha tickle #mha #mha tickle #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #kacchan #izuku midoriya #midoriya #deku #ler!midoriya #lee!bakugou #ticklish!bakugou #bakudeku #platonic #tickling #tickle fic

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widowsofchaos · 3 years

Text

ill wind

summary: A drunken one-night stand takes a turn. pairings: dark!Wanda x black!reader x dark!Natasha warnings: (malevolent advantage of alcohol consumption, power manipulation, dub non-con/smut) I hope ya’ll enjoy! <3 ao3 a/n: Written for @that-damn-girl ‘s PRIDE challenge. Chose a scenario prompt “drunken one night stand” with my two of my fav marvel women. Many apologies for being rusty at my writing! Beta: by the beautiful @imanuglywombat Thank you, Laura for being such a great friend & for proof-reading! Thank you for the amazing commentary, you’ve been such a huge help on this fic! Xoxo psa: I had to repost this story again due to the original post being reported by tumblr for adult content, so here it is once again! Also, a big thanks to everyone liking this fic, I didn’t realize it would be a fan favorite until I kept getting tagged by other writers’ answering asks of readers asking about it! It means a lot, thank you!!

do not repost my works!

A surge of throbbing pain hits your head.

Somber shades of yellow and white marinate into a dewy flourish; trying to break through your fluttering lids. Three hearts beating under smooth silk sheets, limbs entangled, a blooming migraine bestows your crown.

A cheeky god who’s shit-eating grin is flashing before your squinting eyes, you huffed. Serves me right, I guess, you mulled. The rowdy tyke biting more than she can chew.

Your hooded eyes sharply scan the bedroom, realization hits like a freight train – this isn’t your room. It’s familiar to memory, your mouth curves into a frown, you rub your eyes roughly. Trying to clear your vision, studying your surroundings thoroughly. Powering through blurry perception, your senses are a bit irregular, groggy.

You attempt to twist your body, metal clanks against the skin of your back. Nerves frigid at the slender-shaped leather sensation, your breathing is shallow, your brain is driving into overdrive, grasping at the assumption that it’s a belt; the horizontal form, and the shape of metal is a big clue of it’s identification.

The slick leather sliding against the nape of your back, traveling against the slope of your lower spine, regarding the patterns of the buckle that grazed against your ass.

Peering out of your blurry haze, your moist skin recognizes the flood of body heat.

Overwhelmed by your flush state, your crown shifts down and you almost choke on your spit and you almost choke on your spit. On your right, lying peacefully on her back is the Slovakian witch herself, Wanda. On your left, her face half-smooshed in the pillow, the Russian beauty herself, Natasha.

Anxiety rolls off of you in waves. Naked, and satiated with pouty sleepy lips – yourself bare as the day you were born. Arm draped gracefully over her face, the twinkle of a glimmering rock adorning Wanda’s left palm mockingly winks at you.

Whining very lowly, you leisurely twist your head to face Nat, curled near her head was another shiny rock snickering at you. “Fuck.” You cringe. Biting the bullet, you navigate through the migraine, bent elbows dig into the mattress, lifting your head up, weak fingers grip the sheets to cover your indecency.

On the floor, spews of clothes are scattered – your Alice Cooper shirt, your lace black thong, your denim shorts, your strapless bra – along with other familiar articles of clothing. A red string thong, a pair of high-waisted blue panties, a black button clad blouse, a leather skirt, – it was an Armageddon of fabric.

As your brain fizzles to calculate your escape, a featherlight fingertip grazes and tickles your neck, you gasped at the intrusion. Your head snaps to your left, green orbs pierce through you, “Hey.”, it was sultry, yet raspy.

A twinge at your core – no, no, no – this can’t happen. Becoming a homewrecker isn’t on your bucket list. “Hey – um, I don’t fully remember–” You were stuttering, never have you lost your cool. “I – fuck.” Your eyes downcast from Natasha’s intense stare and shame seeping through your bones; a dark chuckle erupts from her.

“It’s okay.” She cuts you off, with her knuckles caressing your cheek. “No need to be worried – or scared”, a feral grin, all fangs. Your mouth gaps opened, and closed like a blubbering fish. “I’m so sorry, Nat.” A bit breathless, tears form in your eyes.

Your head running miles per hour, tongue thickened with sincerity – worried that you definitely ruined one of your best friendships.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Your fumes are running on auto-pilot. A coy flutter of her lashes, “Why are you sorry? You weren’t saying that last night.” Your chin wobbles, “Excuse me?” A devilish smirk dons her mouth, you can tell she’s entertained by your confusion.

Natasha’s calm stature, coolly lifting herself by the elbows to sit against the headboard, bare milky breasts bounce free from the blanket – it throws you for a loop.

“Whatever I said last night –” Your fidgety fingers grip your messy curls, seeking an ounce of control, “–I was drunk. I – can’t remember. I know I probably said some stupid shit.” You harshly bite your bottom lip, drawing some droplet of blood through split skin, “Not at all, miláčik.” A soft Slovakian timber looms behind you, your entire body stiffens.

French manicured nails graze your tender shoulder blade, weaving a hiss through your teeth. Crudely tracing red claw marks, a shiver crawls through your spine; Wanda stifles a chuckle. “No need to worry, Y/n.” A peck on your shoulder, you gasp, flinching a bit away from her lips.

“No, this is so wrong. I ruined everything – I – need to go.” You stutter, averting your teary gaze away from both women. Fumbling and shaky hands tugging off the sheets, embarrassment surges inside of you due to your bareness.

Covering your breasts with your arms in shame, a disappointed sigh can be heard, a whizz of mesmerizing magenta energy floats and surrounds you. Your brain becomes fuzzy – dizzy numbness infiltrates you. Brown orbs criss-cross, a force heaves on your chest, pushing your body forcefully against the mattress – an ungraceful huff escapes you.

“Oh miláčik, you’re not going anywhere.” Wanda whispers, her knuckles softly caressing your cheek. “I–” Your mouth gapes to speak but you are cut off, “Quiet.” Natasha sternly demands, trimmed brows pinch menacingly. Wanda’s slender fingers flicker hairs-away from your lips; muting you.

“Do I really need to refresh your memory? Or do you want Wanda to just show you?” Natasha pucker lips sporting a faded tint of pink – a hint of last night’s rendezvous. Something is different in their eyes now; something darker. It nerves you, a force is weighing on your chest slightly more — leaving you gasping a bit.

You nod your head in Wanda’s direction, peering through squinted glossy eyes. Wanda’s open palm waves over your face, a flared energy of fluid orchid pink and creamy white whisk in a blurry mix.

Transporting your subconscious through a tunnel of faded memories – a film reel of the past — neon rainbows of worldly splendor travel around you. Kaleidoscope splendor.

Through a murky veil, your airy presence arrives at the living area — Stark’s late night party from last night in full swing. You are befuddled yet amazed beyond belief. The scents of alcohol roars in your nostrils and the crisp clear cadence of your tipsy friends flow through your eardrums – goofing off, and chatting – you can feel the atmosphere differently on your skin.

The chilled air that flows from the open balcony imbibes your flesh, goosebumps littering your translucent skin in its wake; your breath hitches at the tingles soaring through your body.

The powerful gifts Wanda possesses never fails to impress you.

Nimble feet waltz through the hallway, reaching to the common area, it felt as if another unknown force was guiding you – searching for your past self. Assuming by this time of the party you were already impaired off your ass. Your silent steps were transparent, featherily light against the flooring; the cool sensation grazing your toes.

The cheers rising in volume, the coil of anxiety curling in the pit of your belly. Forcing yourself to cease your pace, nerves overriding. Afraid to face the truth – realization that you slipped. How easy of you fall into their bed, like a slithering snake. Tears formed at the brims of your eyes – wiping the droplets away by the back of your palms.

A push collided against your back, an ungraceful yelp escaped you as you toppled over – your entire form floating, twirling a bit. Wiggling legs falter mid-air, hovering over the ground; trying to find your bearings. A force guiding you towards the common area. The aroma of liquor tickles your nostrils and boisterous laughter rings in your ears.

Easily you found past you hanging off of Thor’s extended bicep – like a monkey climbing a damn oak tree. You attempted to face-palm yourself, but your hand went straight through your ghostly face. It was free reign to wonder about the compound.

Fascinated to just linger around, seemingly waiting for your own mistake to be replayed for you. In the corner, you see Sam and Clint chuckling like a couple of knuckle-heads at you trying to bounce off of Thor. It was odd, you felt like you were in the film Ghost.

Wandering among friends, they walk right through your invisible disembodied form. In the corner, you see Bucky and Steve smooching on the couch, stealing cheeky kisses – a bit tipsy chuckles from Thor’s ale.

Your drunken form catches your eye, incoherent words to Thor, Sam, and Clint --- most likely you’re telling them that you were gonna rest for a bit. You saw your past self flop ungracefully on the couch, your eyes wearily fluttering open and shut.

Two shadows peer upon your body and you almost choke on your own spit. Wanda and Natasha sat on both sides of you, petting your hair and caressing your cheeks. Delirious you were, you slurred a hello. You squinted darkly at Natasha’s palm – it was a flask in her grasp.

Taunting you with a shake, promising more alien ale, in exchange to ‘hang out with us’; Wanda’s fingertips grazing your temples, snickering lowly. You are frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots planting in the flooring. Deceit. It was a simple trick dealt by your own hand, your own inebriation used against you.

For a millisecond, you feel it was your own fault – following the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Aided by the sneaky claws of Wanda, and Natasha; trolling towards the elevator. Your breathing is sharpening, choppy pants squeezed from your lungs. The walls of the living area began shaking as if an earthquake was occurring.

Your subconscious begins deteriorating piece by piece. Vibrations begin surging throughout your body and in a glimpse, you see every member of your team in a mid-frozen state.

But in a flash, you see Bucky and Steve grinning with toothy Cheshire Cat smiles – following the direction of their gaze, staring at Wanda and Natasha dragging you away. It gives you a weird uncertain vibe, making you shiver.

The walls of the compound begin to crumble upon you. Vibrations surge throughout your body, almost losing your balance on your toes. You hold onto yourself, hugging your head in your arms. An efflux of bursting colors blinds you, swirling and erupting upon you. A force pushing you through the familiar tunnel of mist.

Deafening white noise pound in your ears, as if you are breaking through the ocean surface – wheezing for air, a heavy weight crawling off your chest. The blurry veil clears, your vision sharpens to see Wanda and Natasha hovering over you, smiling like the cats that got the cream. “You tricked me,” You stammered, fuming with rage but a flailing thread of humiliation.

Wanda clicked her tongue, wagging her finger at you – scolding you like a child. “We didn’t trick you. You came willingly. Right, Nattie?” Wanda cooed to Natasha, dreamily gazing at her. Natasha hummed, “Indeed, Maxie. All we did was follow –” the tip of Natasha’s finger softly grazed Wanda’s chin upward, a slow turn back to you, “--- You lead the way.”

“I was fucking drunk. I don’t even remember shit! You took advantage of me!” You barked, green and hazy blue hues darken. Natasha’s palm grips your jaw, emanating an ow from you – a bruising touch.

“Would you like Wanda to give you a repeat of it? I must warn you –” She leaned forward, lips almost brushing yours, “–you were very loud, and wet.” Nat’s voice was laced with malice.

“No.” A muffled whine slip from puckered lips pinched between her fingers. “You know – we could just give her a demonstration.” Wanda purrs, delicate hands find your body; snagging the sheets off your body, Natasha groans at the sight of your bare breasts.

Bending forward Wanda’s pink tongue darts from her plump lips, licking long strides against your dewy skin. Starting at the navel, her tongue traveling up to the valley of your plush breasts.

Cowering thighs clench shut, “Nuh uh, none of that.” Wanda’s sing-song reprimand makes you twitch at the pit of your belly. A fiery carmine mist infiltrates the air, twirling presence swirls around your crotch, and thighs – the force snatches your legs spread eagle-wide.

“You have no clue how long we have wanted you, huh?” Natasha coos crudely as your thighs slowly lift upwards, slowly your thighs lifted upwards, your kneecaps coming to rest against your supple breasts.

“You’re soaked, miláčik.” Wanda’s body glides with smooth precision, downward like agile feline; legs dangle in the air, ankles locked. Comfortably tucked between your legs like it was her rightful reign. Inhaling your sweet tangy scent emanating from your glistening cunt, her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. Long strides stroking inside your wet folds, shamelessly delving between short-fuzz mound.

“Delicious. Like a peach.” Tip of her moist tongue, twirling on your clit, “Hmph – fuck.” Your eyes fluttered to the back of your skull. Natasha licks a trail of warm saliva from your lush breast to your baring neck.

Suckling on your pulse point, you gasp a breathy groan. Teeth nip and scrape the skin ravenously, baring her fangs --- resembling her infamous Araneae emblem.

Sweet kisses to your collarbone, teeth nibble at your brown nipples, tantalizing tugging on the sensitive flesh – red nails painfully scraping into your ass cheeks, whimpers slither pathetically from your lips. Mewls from Natasha, a click of her tongue, tsking you as if you were a cat, a mere pet to play with. Your lips form into a thin line, forbidding any involuntary moans to slip.

“Twah. Don’t hold back those sweet noises, baby.” Wanda lulling you, following with a salacious bite on your inner thigh, you yelp trailing into a pathetic moan as she licks against the mark. “We had you singing like a canary last night,” Natasha speaks huskily against your cheek, nibbling a bit. “You may be restraining, trying to be quiet. But you’re just one loud girl, just like your mind.” Natasha said lowly, your dazed eyes trying to concrete.

“Loud thoughts, and vivid fantasies.” Wanda’s lips pucker to suckle throbbing clit. You grunt, Natasha pinches your nipple — earning a squeal from you. It was painfully delicious — you can’t lie — your body definitely can’t hide the fact. “There you are, darling.” Natasha’s voice drips with husky lust, a second twist.

You yelp, your head tilts back and strains against the pillow — welcoming the sting whole-heartedly. Natasha cups your breast jiggling it a bit; flicks her tongue against the erected nipple and suckles it in her entire mouth. Your whole breast devoured, you hiss, peeking through your lashes — it was sinful how her pink saliva glossed lips engulf your tit.

How her tongue lapped at your nipple with such hunger. Worships you into the cave of her mouth. Her sneaky fingers snatch the other one — twisting and twirling mercilessly between her finger-tips. It’s sloppy, filthy, and fucking dirty — and wrong. You feel as if you could pass out. The soppy slurps from Natasha and the leg-shaky clit bites from Wanda were pushing over the edge.

You push your waist up and down, riding Wanda’s tongue; for a moment you lose yourself. Her hot tongue gliding between your velvet folds, how her tongue coats in your essence.

Wanda’s soft palms glide against the curves of your thighs, her nails scraping against the flesh. You jolt as she swats against your underthighs. Harsh painful slaps, as she eats you out. The heat of the slaps is scorching in your pores, adding salt to the wound — Wanda digs nails a bit more to relish in your squirming.

“Ow.” It’s small, but it’s heard. Wanda removes her lips from your pearl, you pitifully whine — frantically, you hoist your head to glare at her. A trail of white saliva connects from her bottom lip to your clit, she twirls her tongue in a languid twirl; collecting all of it.

Licks her upper lip, like a feline just drank the dairy. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Wanda smacks your glistening cunt, a wicked snicker. You wail, it’s a tug of war for you. You don’t want to be here, getting eaten the day-lights out of you, and your tits suckled.

You need time to decompress on the fact, you had sex with two of your best friends — who are married. Who you had the biggest crushes on – but you can’t risk losing a full-fledged friendship over lust.

Two sets of slender fingers plunge inside you, snapping you out of your thoughts, as the pad of Wanda’s thumb rubs manic circle motions on your throbbing clit.

“Get out of your pretty head, miláčik.” Tears form at the brims of your eyes, shaking it no — you can’t risk losing this friendship. “Do you really think you can bypass a spy and a telepath?” Natasha’s voice was like a crackling fire, dragging you out of your conflicted thoughts.

“Did you think we wouldn’t see how you gaze at us, huh? All those thoughts swarming in there?” Her index gently taps the center of your forehead. It was difficult to fully concrete or even speak coherent words as Wanda was teasingly inserting her fingers in and out of your wet cavern; ceasing her thumb a bit.

Speechless — what could you say to that? “Worried on becoming a homewrecker?” You were stuttering a bit, you still needed space to adjust, what if this doesn’t work out, and you were stuck in the awkward middle? “I–I need some time —” Natasha’s eyes darken, refusing to accept your rejection. You didn’t even have the proper choice — you didn’t have a choice.

It was a drunken one — barely a choice filled with manipulation and trickery. “No.” She hisses, gripping your jaw, you whine lowly in your throat at her harsh grasp.

Without wavering her eyes from yours, as she steals a bruising kiss. Wanda’s eyes ignite to fiery red, hitting your sweet spot hard, and brutal. You shriek, trying to worm yourself from Wanda’s grasp — but no success. Wanda’s mist restricts and pins you against the bed, her jaw tightens and clicks.

“You can’t escape us. We want you just as bad as you want us.” Wanda’s viscous fingers split you open, squelching; not once allowing a second of adjusting. As if her powers were electric at the tips of her witchy fingers, you felt a zap inside you. Oh, how a wicked bulb lits upon her head. “I have an idea.” Wanda hums with an evil smirk, stopping her actions.

“I don’t even have to touch you to make you cum.” Wanda guides Natasha away from your aching body by the shoulder. Her slim fingers contort as she sits on her knees, red energy emits, and swirls from her hands.

Manipulating your senses, fire brewing at your nerve endings, unadulterated ecstasy brimming at the pores. Wails leave you like hymns, your lips forming into an O; eyes pinched shut as your back arches off the mattress.

Hissing through your teeth — it’s electric. Enthralling as you twitch under Wanda’s command. Jittery spasms as a coil at the pit of your belly began twirling bigger, and bigger. “She’s getting close. I can smell it on her.” Natasha whispers, her breasts heaving a bit from her chest swelling from excitement, her smug smile curling from her lips.

“I can feel her energy. It’s heavy and intoxicating.” Wanda’s head was in a haze, as she connected with your spirit, along with Natasha’s. A connection. To intertwine — but not for herself, with extra concentration, it is sizzling erotic as Natasha’s charka intertwine with Wanda’s as it chokes your inner essence.

Wanda’s fingers pinching in the air, weaving your life-force, your hips bucking into the air, as your impending orgasm is roaring — your pussy is swollen and soaking. Your soppy hole clenches and pulsates against an enigmatic fullness, Wanda exploring yet violating your cavern — touching against your moist walls, your clit throbbing and hot.

“Fuck — I — I need to c–cum!” Sputtering over your blubbering lips, a snarl rumbles in Wanda’s chest, as she hovered a bit by the knees, the power over three energies was carnal.

Natasha’s head tilts backward, her fiery hair curtaining her face, her baby-hairs sticking against her forehead from brewing sweat; pinching her nipples painfully between her fingertips, groping her breasts in the cups of her palms. “I need to feel her cunt against mine.” Her voice is hardened and desperate.

Natasha’s head snaps upward, staring directly at your sweltering face, the greenery in her pupils darken and dilate.

A growl seethes from Natasha’s wet lips, low and dangerous. Your muscles shake; pleasure engulfing your limbs, weakly trapped in this mystic force, forced to enjoy Wanda’s manipulation. Moving like rivers upon your skin, unraveling waves washing over you — suffocating, painfully sweet.

Despite Wanda taking unbridled control, ravaging your body as if she owns it, weaving pleasure from you as if she knows your body from the inside out, as if she knows every sweet-spot, and tick inside you for years — there is a layer of gentility. Impulsive, yet soft. A tender lover, a pinch to savor.

Groans, grunts, and high-pitched moans echo as corrupted sympathies and bounce against the wall pavements, ringing in your ears. Flushed cheeks, sepia skin now tinted with pinkish shades spreading throughout your body.

Bliss swelling and sealing in your limber legs, aching in the best possible way. Cattle-wails of desperation, a dribble of cum trails between your wet folds and between your cheeks hitting your puckered asshole.

Wanda’s witchy slender fingers fiddle, makeshift claws to create more pressure — releasing more telepathic vitality for Natasha and yourself to ride out your orgasms.

With a flicker of Wanda’s index finger – maneuvering to the form of a pistol – a trigger, a jolt of energy bolts at your navel. A bullet. You convulse, airy pants, your torso heaving with your thighs quaking in its tight hold.

A snap bursts within you, your eyes opening widely, translucent colors combust upon your vision — worldly satisfaction manifesting into reality. In unison, all three souls unleash guttural moans.

Wanda’s fingers tremble, sucking in breath through her teeth, her energy fading into thin air, retreating back into her palms. A sharp guttural groan spilt from Natasha, a skin-peeling frenzy; basking in the astral aura that is the Slovakian witch. Your thighs collapse down debilitating from your torso.

Almost falling like an empty sack, Natasha tries to steady her breathing, as she loses herself completely at the heightened senses of her orgasm. It was such a sight, heaving over, crooked elbows denting against the mattress — on all fours, her spine heaving upward as tremors convulsed.

Never have you ever seen Natasha lose her stature in all the years of knowing her, ever so the chilling demure nature — only in your wildest fantasies have you dreamt of Natasha torn at the seams.

At the corners of her jaw, was tinged pale pink upon a damp milky surface, with her glossy eyes, adding to the primal gaze. Zoned out, peering through her lashes, her eyes are feral. Unhinged, ready for the kill.

“Keep her legs open.” Natasha hisses, nostrils flaring. Wanda slithers away, wobbling a bit by her knee-caps. Humming with a knowing smirk at Natasha, licking her upper lip with her pink tongue – she knows what Natasha wants. “I want her mouth.” Wanda snickers, a glint of mischief at her eye. Hastening breath fans over your bare shoulder, from her button nose against your sculpted collarbone.

Choking a bit, gasping for a full breath to tame your heightened nerve endings; your mouth parted. Gulping back your dry throat.

Wanda clicks her tongue, her nimble fingers trace the lines of your lips. “Keep that mouth open, dove. I’m going to quench your thirst.” Sneaky mind-reader. Sultry thick accent spells you for a momentary lapse.

“Please, wait. Give me a momen — aggh!” A plea falling on deaf ears is strangled into a wanton cry. Your hands shake, hugging yourself against your chest, arms crossing; trying to comfort yourself.

A painful slap against your clit, over-sensitive and squirming. Heat blooming throughout your hooded clit. “I don’t think so. We’ll stop when we say, got it?” Natasha snipes.

A pregnant pause.

Smack.

“Understood?” Natasha barks again, with a vengeful clap of her hand — as if it possesses the power of a god, unmerciful; but worships you in the smooth rubs on the stinging flesh. Your lips parting into a moan, a few sniffles muffled — it’s whiny and pathetic.

“Don’t cry. We’ll make you feel good again. Don’t you want that?” Wanda’s lips hover over you, against your cheeks, her teeth slightly grazing against your skin. A bite at your inner thigh, a warning. Natasha’s more aggressive. Wild, impatient, and just savage to devour you, for you to comply with their demands.

“Yes. Just wait, I’m sensitive.” You needed a reprieve, a breather from the intense third-eye cosmic orgasm you just had a few minutes ago. “No time to waste.” Wanda perks, a soft kiss on your lips. The witch balances herself over your head, trapping your skull between her thighs. Above your lips was her peach-fuzz cunt, dripping and inviting.

A tiny voice at the back of your head informing you that this is beyond wrong, red flags and alarm bells ringing that the circumstances after this will be catastrophic.

Fingers sliding in your curls, glides open-palm against your head, “C’mon, dove. Open wide. We know you’ve dreamt of having a taste. Don’t be shy now. You weren’t last night.” Wanda’s clutch shifted into an iron grip, pain over-riding your humiliation.

“Loud, wet — very eager to please, to impress.” Natasha kept listing off how you acted in bed, closing your eyes shut in embarrassment. What if this is just a tryst? A mere game for a married couple to spice their sex life? Years worth of emotional baggage and scars begin surfacing to your murky mind. A good lay.

And when Wanda and Natasha are done with you without a second thought, using your body after a good late night and morning fuck, despite questionable undertones --- confusion.

Your body yearns for their touch, going against your better judgement; it’s best to sit down and discuss this like rational adults. Another part of you wants to claw at both of them, for lying to you. Using Thor’s ale against you to lure you to the lion’s den. What if after this, they don’t want you? A mind-game to throw you off. Fearing to lose a friendship over a momentary lapse of hot sex.

Restricting back burning tears, ‘very eager to please, to impress.’ That’s you, always ready to bend over to get people to like you — it even transcended into your sex life. Motivated by liquor and you lost yourself to lust and temptation, although these two used your drunk state against you. A humiliating sight you probably were.

“Get out of your head, miláčik.” You sigh, slowly opening your eyes. Your breath hitches, Wanda stares down at you with sympathetic hues. “We’re not going to throw you away. We’re not going anywhere.” Relenting her harsh grip, the pads of her fingers soothe the remaining ache.

“You’re ours.” Firm and demanding. Natasha spreads your weak legs open once again, positioning herself to sit interlocked with you. Natasha hums, “Don’t even think of leaving us. You know we’re capable of catching you. Chain you to the bed if we have to.” Her cunt against yours, clit to clit.

You can feel the wet slick that coated between her asscheeks, a slip n’ slide as her ass sprawled against your wet thigh. Her fingers clawing against your thigh to top it over her leg. Quaking a bit, a shiver crawls up your spine.

The insanity of it all, you just wanna hide away. “Be good, miláčik.” Wanda descends upon your face, her natural essence wafting deeply in your airways — flooding your senses. You shouldn’t be thriving off of this sex but it was hot and incredible.

Wanda comfortably situates herself as if she sits on a throne —- as if she owns you. Your protests are muffled into mumbles, as your lips wrap around her swollen snatch. Your nose nestled against her short curls, the tender skin was like silk against your palate.

A crude shift from Natasha’s waist, a strident thrust as she begins tribbing you, you are moaning against Wanda, herself shuddering as her hips sway up and down upon your cheeks.

Vulgar Russian curses heave from Wanda’s lips, high-pitched and transcending into orgasmic nirvana. Natasha is growling — slipping into Russian curses and wanton moans — taking what’s hers as she keeps riding herself on you. Sucking through your teeth, you nibble on Wanda’s clit, and tugging her slippery labia between sucked in lips.

Vociferous wails and whimpers, a cadence of sticky slick mixing from one cunt to another. A lubricant that was chafing against flesh. The lewd differences between these two women is clear as day.

Wanda is the bright sunny day and Natasha is the inky night. Soft is Wanda in shades and colors; with benevolent timbre. Amorous is Natasha but in darker tints, with a reserved mask; with raspy timbre. Both ravenous for control. The pinnacles of what many women strive to be with superior intellect, beauty, and brawns.

Being the gay bottom you are, it’s no surprise for you to be charmed by such powerful women. After many hookups with women over the years, this was the most intense and enthralling one yet.

Years of crushing on them from afar has led up to this. Fresh-faced and more enchanting than before, Wanda sighs in content and victory, as she gawks down at you from her tottering head. Her tousled tresses curtaining her cheeks, riding with more enthusiasm as your lashes flutter. With a dominant drive, Natasha’s groans as she’s close to cum.

Her wetness and yours adds to the sensation on your clit. All three bodies fumbling at bit from the brutal-pace of face-fucking and cunt riding. The headboard hits the wall a bit, matching the frenetic grinding of skin to skin.

Shedding their heroic femme skins and turning into savages. Nasty. Filthy. Corrupt. Your fingernails dredge into Wanda’s femurs, prowling skyward the sweaty region of her hips, to the toned plains of her tummy to finally the mountain peaks of bosoms.

Pinching her pink nipples between your fingers to the point of making her yelp, it was an unspoken incentive for her to ride your mouth harder. Teeth tenderly gnashing inside her pussy lips.

Ragged murmurs, clipped curses, and taunts – You like it? Yeah, you were made to be under us, withering, and shaking. You want me to cum all over your face, pretty girl? Have Natasha drown your pussy with her cum? Yeah, dove, I can feel your clit pulse against mine!

Shocked silence as your astonished eyes widen, your mouth is flooded with cum. Rendered speechless, airy gasps from Wanda and Natasha is still upon your cunt, small mewls from her, now beyond sloppy and wet; a mixture of your cum and hers. Natasha’s hips juddering against yours, riding the last of her orgasm.

“What a good dove, we have,” Natasha speaks through the thick silence. Wanda hoists herself up by the knees, as you gasp for more air — your entire mouth now glistening with her fluid.

“Yes, she’s so good. Took everything we gave her like a good girl.” Wanda coos at you, hooded lids with a sultry curve of her lashes flutter at you; jolting away as she laid back on the bed with a wheezing breath. Regaining her composure, her dainty fingertips graze against your sweaty forehead to flip curls that strayed on your eye-lids. It was intimate, too intimate — it is the touch of a lover.

Natasha releases your leg, it was a bit strained from her fingernails and tight grip. Her hands cup your tummy, kissing by the navel; as she repositions herself by your side, mimicking her wife’s action. Caressing hands on your arms, dainty fingers soothing against your breasts, and shushing your rapid breaths.

Sandwiching you between themselves, a sudden direction on your belly was taken. Both Wanda and Natasha soothe the smooth clammy skin, with curling smirks that were both devilish yet attractive.

With a silent conversation that you aren’t privy to, confused as they both looked at each other with knowing gloating stares. Wanda takes her own pillow and fluffs it between her hands, as Natasha upraises your curved hips. Once again, you’re left in the dark, thrusted back into demoralization and bewilderment.

Is this it? Now that this married couple — who you idolized, and cherished this friendship with — has had their fill, who are you to them? Words birthed during the mist of lust are empty promises most of the time. Is this friendship over? Do you even have the mental capacity to continue this friendship after this tirade?

Bone-shattering orgasm after orgasm was ripped from you, and yes, it was amazing to the core, but there was a part of you in the midst of clouded hazy sex, that you didn’t want it. To be touched, you just wanted some space to recollect and process your feelings about this entire messy ordeal. You’re not sure what you want really out of life --- especially out of a polygamorous relationship.

What does this say about Natasha and Wanda?

This was a scene contrasting their usual masks of personalities, yet it molds and blends into their psyches just accordingly. It’s terrifying.

You stiffen at the revelation, serrated images were slowly circulating around your mind like the stingers of raging wasps; the small brushes of knuckles against yours, the over-friendly back massages, the persistent need to have you in their presence at all times that was mislabeled ‘just to hang out’ and ‘we miss our best friend.’ And with your yearning affection, it was easy to follow the wolves to the den for the slaughter.

Facades of kind smiles, words of advice, late-night talks that delved into and entrusted girl nights — was something darker, something sinister boiling underneath the surface.

Palms driven with cursory attached upon your arms, gripping and digging; it is demanding. Scooping underneath your bum, open palms gripping your globes, and heaving upward so your hips are positioned in the air. Wanda grabs an extra plush pillow, and Natasha maneuvers your bottom down on the pillow.

“What are you two doing now?” You are a bit irritated – tone clipped – at your running-at-a-mile per second thoughts, and sore at the muscles.

“Hush, you’ll see.” Wanda snickers, as she plushes the pillow underneath your bum. Natasha gingerly holds you down as Wanda dashes to the nearby bedside drawer. Her open-palms caress your belly, ogling with much affection and pride.

“I can’t wait.” A soft smooch above your located uterus. Anxiety filling your veins at the unknown, you begin wiggling in Natasha’s tight hold. Wondering what in the fuck, she meant. “Relax. Let it happen.” Natasha’s words were not settling your nerves, it only makes the panic hitch.

In Wanda’s palm was a turkey-baster, filled to the brim with white sloshing liquid. Eyeing the baster with pure excitement shining in her eyes, her eyes nearly criss-cross as she inspects the foreign fluid almost oozing out of its confinement.

“Perfectly curated semen for the perfect womb.” A bulb breaks and explodes in your head — emptying your dome into nothingness — thrashing in Natasha’s lethal lock. She sighs with a disapproving shake of the head, stretching your arms into a pretzel lock against your chest; painting brown skin in splotches of lavender hand-prints.

Whilst Natasha confines your fore-arms in her restraints for hands, putting weight on your upper body into the bed; Wanda’s eyes glow with fury, once again forcing down your legs. “Relax, dove. This is what we wanted with you for so long. Don’t you want to be with us?” Wanda seethes with a crooked grin, as she leers down at your shaking body.

How she revels in your weak state under her touch. Makes her urges to fuck you with her strap and make you scream like the perfect little bitch you are. Their perfect dove.

“Why?” A watery cry, before succumbing to your fate — who are you to fight against a powerful telekinetic, and one of the world’s greatest retired assassins? The only outcome would be death.

“Because we love you. You’re the one to carry our baby. I can just —” Natasha groans, her eyes rolling back in yearning. “– imagine your belly swollen, waddling bare-foot. Breast-feeding — fuck — you’re already breath-taking, miláčik, but God, you’re going to give us heart-attacks.” Her voice drops an octave lower. Natasha leans her head lower, a kiss on the crease between your brows.

Your body shivers as you feel the chilled tip of the turkey-baster nearing your gaping hole, you begin weeping quietly.

Wanda shushes you, “It’s okay, milacik. You’re going to be a great mommy. Three mommies and two daddies. The baby will be the most beloved and protected little one.” A warm smile graces Wanda’s rosy cheeks. Three mommies? A dream of having a family now enforced upon you, this is a clusterfuck. Firstly, tricked by your own drunken state, second, pinned down for morning sex, and now you’re going to be impregnated by a fucking baster?

Wait --- two daddies?

“Two daddies? What? Wait, who’s the father?” You shrill, your head struggling to peak down at Wanda as she paused mid-way from inserting the cum; your eyes wild and glossy. Wanda chuckles, it sounds genuine — it’s anything but.

“Not just one father, miláčik. Our dutiful Captain and Sergeant.”

You feel light-headed, a hay fever flooding your dome. The tips of your ears feel hot, your head flops back down onto the pillow with a fluffy thud.

An incoherent whisper. “What was that, dove?” Natasha’s thumb rubbing your wrists, coaxing you to speak up. “How is that possible?” You wept, fresh tears coating your face.

“Anything is possible with modern enhanced technology. Now a baby can be genetically linked to two fathers. Isn’t that marvelous?” Wanda gleamed a cheeky smile, her eyes twinkling with unnerving mirth. “Why Steve and Bucky? Do they know what you’re doing?” You almost choke on a strained whine, your face scrunching up tightly.

Praying that Steve and Bucky didn’t have any involvement, nor a speck of encouragement of this insanity. “Of course, they know. We all made the plans together.” Wanda’s hand rubs your thigh to calm you but it only adds to your fright.

“Steve and Bucky are ready to settle down, they always dreamt of having kids. They love you and know you would be the perfect mother to their child. Our child. We’re all going to be one happy family.” And without any moment to spare, Wanda gently thrusts the baster inside of you, squeezing the silicone bulb firmly. You gasp as you felt every drop paint your walls white, drowning inside you.

You twitch in discomfort, your head thrashing side to side, your cheeks hitting the wrinkled sheets. Mutely screaming, teeth gnashing at the air, refusing to accept the inevitable. Natasha peppers your face with kisses to calm you down.

Whispering declarations of love, you restrain any more tears to escape. Wanda cups your belly, it was very subtly swelled from the massive load. “Look how much went inside, Nattie.” Wanda alleviating your distress by small circular motions.

Natasha halts her kisses. She titters a bit, “Well, I’m not surprised. Two enhanced soldiers will deliver a copious amount of cum.” Natasha joins in on the soothing strokes by her fingers. A splotchy memory of Steve and Bucky wickedly smiling while your drunk-self was dragged away to your fate.

Betrayal.

Two people you trusted for years – who you considered close friends — played a role in this capture of enforcing a life of motherhood upon you. You didn’t realize lone tears were trickling down your face until you felt a thumb wipe away.

“Don’t fret, milacik. This will be good for you. For all of us. We know what you need.” Wanda kisses your waist and travels upward your chest in a trail of kisses; as she climbs on you, cuddling by your side, wrapping her arm around your hips, and a leg around yours.

“We’ll treat you so well. Like a queen.” Natasha loosens her grip on your arms, easing the aches in your muscles, but detaining you, to ensure you won’t escape from their grasp. Natasha plants a leg over your legs, positioning next to Wanda’s, sandwiched, and suffocating.

Laxing your body from stiffening under their touch, just trying to mindlessly drift into an impending hazy slumber. “Let’s rest. We’ll tell Bucky and Steve the good news later.” Natasha says in a lulling tone, as both women cuddle to squeeze much closer to you as if they want to reside underneath your skin — tightly, and smothering.

Sedately, your eyes close. Tentatively, their breathing morphs into your focal point, to hear Natasha’s and Wanda’s settle into steady rest. Urgently needing your privacy in sound, and body --- away from nosey intruding psychic.

As you lay there, mute and digesting the perverse treachery like a dry pill ripping down your throat, your tongue weighing heavy, barely registering reality.

Murky thoughts try to align in correction, not to bemoan over the guile that is Natasha and Wanda that was akin to pistoling barrage upon your spirit.

The soft fabric of the pudgy pillow wedged underneath you was burning against your bum, an indicia that could compel an unsought future. The tact to force maternity upon your life, your womb is now without doubt, fertilizing soldier swimmers.

What can you do now? How can you battle against the odds of the inevitable? Cuffed emotionally, and intimately by ex-friends deformed into duplicitous lovers who are now dead to you, and buried in deep, fresh graves in the crevices of your heart.

You must learn from the suffering, and brace the ugliness of being a fool. Your shudder, and bite back a sob as jagged remnants began floating behind your lids of last-night that was thick of debauched moans as slim fingers plunging into your cavern; it was a fleeting splash of excitement but it simmered and dwindled into a piercing ache in your chest.

It was euphoric, but not simply euphoric, there was fear and confusion intertwined too. For many years, you had grappled many weights of trauma, but you couldn’t stomach two damaged hearts.

Love me, love my dog — or so the saying goes. Can you handle being a mother? Are you even capable of being a good mother? You almost snort at the ridiculous notion.

What if aborti--- Jesus, you wouldn’t be able to go far with that option. It’s not even a fucking option. ‘Not with these two.’ You internally huff.

So you’ll wait. Wait it out, move in silence, map out your next course of action. Figure out escapes, leaving behind your life as an Avenger, and the only family you’ve ever had — just be quiet, comply and wait.

All you could do is wait.

#apridec1 #buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #dark natasha romanoff #dark wanda maximoff #dark natasha x reader #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha romanoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark marvel #scarletwidow #wlw

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Kacchan’s Gift (My Hero Academia) / 12 Days of Ficmas

One Shot

Day 12/12

Requested by: @kiyachi-tickles

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Shipping: Bakugou x Deku (BakuDeku)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE!! :D

Aaaah! I’m so honored that you asked for a 12 Days fic; I LOVE your MHA fics so freaking much, you don’t even know! Also - WE MADE IT! This is the final day of the 12 Days of Ficmas! I hope you enjoyed them all as much as I enjoyed writing them! This was a fun and challenging journey that I’d love to do next year as well! Kiyachi requested a fic in which Deku is feeling down because he’s struggling to find the perfect gift for Bakugou, and Bakugou tickles him until he agrees the gift doesn’t matter that much. I spiced it up just a little; you’ll see what I mean. Enjoy!

Note: This fic will remain unconnected to my other MHA fics. As with the poly ship one, it’s just for the 12 Days! ^^

“What’s going on with you, nerd?”

Deku yelped in surprise, turning just in time to see Bakugou closing the door to his dorm room behind him. His heart rate kicked up a notch. Kacchan was in his room with him. Alone. Okay, this was fine! Definitely fine. Not at all flustering in the slightest!

“K-Kacchan,” Deku stammered, unconsciously taking a step back when Bakugou moved further into the room, closer to him. The green-haired boy swallowed nervously. Bakugou looked good in his tank top and gym pants. It was entirely common for the explosive teen to show off his muscled arms like that, but when the tank top in question was white rather than black it somehow seemed…different.

“Answer me. What’s going on with you? You’ve been way jumpier than usual around me lately. I haven’t even made a move like I was going to touch you.”

“Oh, it’s…it’s nothing like that, I…I’ve just been…” Deku’s mind suddenly went blank. What was he supposed to say? No, Kacchan, I’m not afraid of you anymore. I’ve just been panicked trying to find you the perfect Christmas gift and I have no idea what you’d like and Christmas is only a few days away and…

“You’ve just been what?” Bakugou insisted, closing the space between them even further.

Deku gasped when he felt the wall against his back, strong and solid and keeping him trapped where he was. He had to be blushing by now. There was no hiding it when he got flustered like this. He let out a small “eep!” and immediately wished he could hide his face. Bakugou grinned wickedly at him, and it was his undoing. “I’ve b-been trying to find you a C-Christmas gift, and I…I don’t know what to get you and I’m kind of…freaking out about it?”

Bakugou, clearly surprised, blinked at him. “What? Why are you worrying about that? I don’t care about Christmas.”

“W-What?!” Deku cried. “B-But why? It’s so fun and festive and you get to get together with friends and family and—”

Bakugou slapped a hand against his mouth, silencing him. “I don’t mean it like that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I just mean I don’t care about getting gifts. I don’t want anything or need anything. I’m good to go. You can stop worrying about getting me anything.”

Deku swore if Bakugou covered his mouth like that again he would not be able to stop himself from melting into a puddle.

“But…Kacchan, I…”

“Seriously, Deku. Don’t worry about it.” Bakugou took a step back and shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Deku’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Once his friend set his mind on something, there was no talking him back out of it. It usually was an admirable trait, but in a situation like this…

“But…I care,” he said quietly, averting his eyes. “You mean a lot to me, you know, and I…I want to show you how much I…” He stopped himself from saying how much I like you.

Bakugou let out a heavy sigh and turned away. “What do you want me to do, idiot? Tell you I want a new pair of socks so you can run out and get them and make yourself feel better? The point of gift-giving is to make the other person feel good, right? Well, I’d feel a lot better if you just didn’t worry about it. Deku, I don’t want anything. Seriously.”

The green-haired hero was silent for a long time. Then, finally, in a tiny voice, he said, “Okay, Kacchan. If you don’t want anything, I won’t…won’t get anything for you.” He winced saying the words out loud, hating them, but not knowing what else to do. Bakugou was nothing if not immovable.

Bakugou, for his part, turned to look at him and immediately felt like a jerk. It was clear that Deku was upset, and he hated being the one to make him feel that way. But what could he do? He honestly didn’t want anything from anyone. But he didn’t want Deku to feel like crap, either. How was he supposed to fix this?

It hit him, suddenly, what he could do to turn this situation around. He smirked and moved right back into Deku’s personal space, putting his hands on either side of him, trapping him against the wall. He saw how pink the smaller boy’s cheeks became in response and chuckled. “You know, actually, maybe there is something you can give me.”

Flustered beyond belief but feeling a spark of hope, Deku stammered, “W-W-What is i-it?”

Bakugou gently took Deku’s hands in his, guiding them up the wall to a spot above his head. With one hand he secured both wrists in place, and with the other, he gently pinched Deku’s hip. “Your laughter.”

The sound Deku made was the most adorable thing Bakugou had ever heard. Something akin to a yelp, whine, and moan all at once, the smaller hero’s face went dark red and he bit his lip. “I-I-I…y-you…w-want me to…l-l-laugh f-for you?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou pinched his hips again, a little harder this time, testing the waters. “I think that’ll do nicely. You get to give me something without spending any money, and I get to make you laugh so hard you see stars. Oh, and beg, too. I definitely want to hear begging.”

Deku’s knees nearly gave out beneath him. He didn’t mind being tickled, but Bakugou was different. He was harder, rougher, more merciless than any other tickler Deku had ever had. The fact that he had a crush on him did not make this situation any less flustering for him.

But…why not? Bakugou was right. It would work out for both of them if he agreed to go through with it.

So, with a deep breath and a nod, he assented. “All right, then. M-My laughter will be your Christmas present. H-H-Have as m-much of it as you w-want.”

Bakugou smirked and dragged Deku over to the bed, making quick work of pinning him down and straddling him. “Careful what you wish for, nerd.” Then he drove his hands into his underarms, and Deku burst into shrieking laughter, already bringing his arms down defensively as he kicked his legs, trying to hold as still as he could while his nerve endings were spazzing out and failing miserably.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA KACCHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!!” Deku cried, laughing loudly and pushing weakly at Bakugou’s hands. “WH-WHY CAHAHAHAHAN’T YOU EHEHEHEHEHEVER EASE ME IHIHIHIHIHINTO IT GEHEHEHEHEHENTLY?!”

Bakugou’s smirk became a grin upon hearing the instant hysterics he was pulling from his rival. “Because I’m not gentle. You know that. Why are you so surprised?”

With a squeal, Deku gave up and let his head fall back on the bed, laughter spilling out of him at a high-pitched and uncontrollable rate. He still kicked his legs and pushed at his tickler’s hands, but it was obvious he wasn’t really trying too hard to get away or make it stop. For a couple of minutes, Bakugou contented himself with aiming for lesser but still ticklish spots – underarms, ribs, sides, stomach. He even wiggled a finger into Deku’s belly button at one point, making him squeal again with an adorable red-faced smile.

But then he decided it was time to switch gears. “Stay here,” he said as he climbed off of him for just a moment. He went to the dresser on the other side of the room, grabbed one of Deku’s red ties, and returned to straddle his waist once more.

Deku’s eyes widened. “W-What is that for?”

“I’m making the most of my Christmas present,” Bakugou replied with a smirk, snatching up Deku’s hands and making quick, easy work of binding them to the headboard of his bed. “You told me to take as much as I want, after all.”

“Th-This isn’t…I didn’t know you…ah!” Deku’s giggling came out sounding panicked, the realization of his newfound helplessness sinking in all at once as Bakugou slipped his fingers under his t-shirt and scribbled along the bare skin of his torso. “Oh nohohohohohohohoho! Please, Kahahahacchan I d-dohohohohon’t think I can—”

“Don’t think you can take it?” Bakugou teased. When Deku nodded frantically, he chuckled and lowered his voice. “We both know you’re beyond strong enough to snap that tie in half if you really wanted to get away. So what are you waiting for?”

Deku said nothing in reply, but his cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree.

Bakugou smirked. “Exactly. Now stop whining and let me unwrap my present a little bit more.”

That said, the explosive teen shoved the hem of Deku’s shirt up to his chest, revealing his bare stomach and ribs, which he then proceeded to dig into with renewed vigor, grinning all the while at the yelps and shrieks and giggles coming out of the boy beneath him.

Not being able to bring his arms down now made this situation three times harder for Deku to endure. He twisted and whimpered and laughed, clenching his fists in an effort not to do exactly as Bakugou suggested and snap his tie in half. Because his tormentor was right – he could easily get out of this if he wanted to. But he didn’t; that was the point. This was Kacchan’s Christmas gift! He had to do his best to let him enjoy it.

Still, when Bakugou’s fingers moved lower and drilled into his hips, Deku couldn’t help the scream that came from him, followed by bellowing laughter he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. “AGH!! NO KAHAHAHAHAHAHACCHAN NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Heh.” The blonde smirked wickedly. “This always was a good spot.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! KACCHAHAHAHAHAHAN!!” Deku clenched his fists and made a conscious effort not to break out of his bindings right then and there as his hysterics began to overwhelm him. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Bakugou chuckled. “There’s the begging. It’s so satisfying to hear it from you, nerd.” He moved his fingers back up to his sides, lightening his touch. “But I don’t want to wear you out just yet. I intend to make the most of this moment.”

Gasping for breath, Deku broke into a new round of giggles, blushing at his friend’s teasing words. “K-Kahacchahahahan…”

For some reason, hearing Deku’s nickname for him when he was giggling breathlessly like that made Bakugou feel something…different. He couldn’t explain it. It was like a sudden rush of warmth, of familiarity and fondness. He brushed it off quickly, though, and raised a brow at his green-haired victim. “Yes? Something you want to say?”

“Y-You…seheheheem to be…h-having fuhuhuhun…” Deku managed between intakes of breath.

“Yeah? Right back at you.” When the smaller hero once again said nothing in reply, the blonde dug in a little harder. “You like being tickled?”

“I-I-aiehehehehehehehe!” Deku squeaked, turning his head to try and hide his blushing face. “I d-dohohoho when yohohohohou’re dohohoing it.”

Again, that rush of something foreign. Bakugou paused for a moment, watching him, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. But before Deku could look back up and see his face, he suddenly went for the hips again. “Well then,” he chuckled in between his victim’s screams of laughter, “this really was the best Christmas gift for both of us, huh, Izuku?”

Lost in his laughter and increasing pleas for mercy, it wasn’t until after Bakugou had thoroughly wrecked him and they were laying on his bed together a while later that Deku realized Kacchan had called him by his first name in that moment. He smiled to himself and snuggled a bit closer to his old friend who was now becoming something more.

Merry Christmas…Katsuki.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #12 days of ficmas #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #deku #midoriya #bakugou #kacchan #bakudeku #christmas #tickling #ticklish #gift #holiday

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narukoibito · 3 years

Note

5. “Can I pet your dog?” “Do I know you?”

This took forever, but I am finally responding to your lovely prompt request @clarensjoy from months ago! It’s, uh. Let’s just say I don’t know why my mind took it this way, but hope it doesn’t disappoint.

Harry woke up as he always did, curled on his right side, his hand stretched out to the left side of the bed. He blinked away the fuzziness in his head and the soft aching in his chest, staring at the empty expanse of sheets.

Like every other day, he rolled onto the other side, his fingers blindly fumbling for his glasses on his end table. When he put them on, his spare bedroom came into focus.

Harry laid on his back, gazing at the grey ceiling for a moment, trying to recall what he had been dreaming of. As usual, whatever it had been, it was gone, leaving only a lingering wistfulness that was already beginning to fade. He rubbed the strange oval-shaped scar on his chest, absently glancing over to the left side of his bed. He never seemed to roll over to the other side, despite how he’d simply needed a larger bed.

Any further thoughts were scattered the moment Snuffles leapt onto him, knocking all rumination and breath out of him.

“Ooof,” Harry groaned, despite the grin that stretched on his face as the large black dog began lapping its master’s face eagerly. “Hey, hey, good morning to you too, you big oaf. Ok, got it, let’s go.”

He laughed as he struggled to get Snuffles off of him so they could get on with the day. Let the dog out to the yard, put food out, shower, then a walk.

Harry took the same route he always did, stopping by his favorite bakery, a cozy place called The Burrow. He thanked the tall ginger with a friendly smile for the coffee and a treacle tartlet.

Like every other morning, he headed to the nearby park. Snuffles tended to get overexcited, so Harry kept a close hold on the leash. He sipped his coffee, amused by how his dog treated every new scent with such vigorous curiosity. He let his mind drift to the latest case he was working on. He had a meeting with a Miss Granger later. He wondered about the rumors about her brilliance as a lawyer — Harry certainly hoped she’d be able to help them put away this Rowle character away for good.

He was about to take a bite of his treacle tartlet when out of the corner of his eye, a blur of red caught his eye. His breath laugh in his throat.

The runner in the was absolutely stunning. She was leaning over, stretching her legs, her red hair tumbling down her shoulders, hiding her face. She was incredibly fit, without a doubt, but there was something about her that made him feel like the world was slowing down like he was standing in molasses.

An inexplicable feeling swelled in him.

Harry was jolted back to reality when his left arm was yanked forward, his treacle tartlet jostled out of his right hand and splattering on the ground.

“Snuffles!” He let out a colorful litany of swears as his dog suddenly broke away from his leash.

Harry began running after him, realizing with slow, dawning horror as his dog went straight toward the woman he had clearly been staring at. Deep, searing mortification beyond belief flooded him as the large dog leapt onto the gorgeous redhead.

His face burned hotter than a thousand suns when the stupid mutt began to make humping motions. “Christ — I’m so sorry! Get off, Snuffles!”

As usual, his dog didn’t listen to him.

Much to his relief, she didn’t seem too perturbed. Her bright laughter sent pleasant shivers down Harry’s spine. With surprising strength despite her small size, she heaved Snuffles off of her.

“Sit,” she said with confidence and just enough force, clearly more than able to handle herself. Snuffles immediately complied, sitting obediently, despite his completely unrepentant face, his pink tongue out and his tail wagging eagerly.

She pushed the long curtain of fiery red hair out of her face to look up at him. His breath caught in his throat at the warm, sparking brown eyes that met his. Her lips quirked up. “This may be a little late, but can I pet your dog?”

Something dormant in his chest came roaring to life with such force, his knees buckled. Blood pounded in his ears as his vision swayed.

He felt strong hands holding him steady. The gentle scent of flowers washed over him, making the ache and relief in his chest nearly unbearable. When he finally opened his eyes, her face was close — close enough that he could see splattering of freckles across her nose, the concern and flecks of amber in her brown eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice seeming to tickle the back of his mind.

“Do I know you?” Immediately, he stiffened with embarrassment. Where had that come from? First his dog had practically sexually harassed her, and now his ridiculous mouth malfunctioned and threw what surely must seem like a foolish pick-up line on her. “Shite, I’m sorry, I can…”

But whatever he was going to say drifted away as he watched her eyes widened, but rather of seeing the expected dismay, hope seemed to flicker in them. Harry’s heart stuttered with what seemed to be a similar feeling.

“Are you ready?”

“What?” he said dumbly.

“This is the first time I’ve appeared.”

His eyebrows furrowed at her words, none of it making any sense. Everything around them seemed to fade away.

“Every day, there’s been Sirius, then Hermione, then Ron. But now… Does this mean you’re ready?” She continued to search his face, even as his mind drew a blank despite the panic that surged through him.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Harry confessed, feeling as if the ground were going to be pulled from underneath him. He clung to her. For some inexplicable reason, she seemed like the only real thing in the world.

Her hand tightened over his, a blazing look taking over her features. “You’ll be okay. You can wake up now.”

Everything inside him seemed to be shaking.

“I…” He couldn’t explain the fear that overtook him. “I can’t.”

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He didn’t know her name, but how could he not? “Yes.”

“It’ll be okay, Harry.” She gave him that smile that made a part of him melt. “Just wake up.”

Her words made no sense. Wasn’t he already?

A wave of dizziness overtook him once more. He closed his eyes as his head and vision spun, his hand holding hers like a lifeline.

Gravity and everything around him seemed to fall away. He clenched his jaw, waiting for the impact, the only thing keeping him tethered was her hand in his. Then —

His entire body jolted.

“Harry!”

The hand that held his let go, and in a blind panic, he opened his eyes. There she was, kneeling by his bedside, her concerned brown eyes searching his. Her hand cupped his face.

He automatically leaned into her touch, taking a steadying breath of her floral fragrance.

“Ginny,” Harry said softly, memories of her swarming his mind. Ginny Weasley, his best friend’s sister, his long-time girlfriend, no — his heart skipped a beat — his fiancé. How could he ever forget her? Her arms enveloped him as they sank back into the bed. He let out a grunt at her weight, but held her tightly to him, having no intention of letting her go.

“Harry,” she breathed into his neck, her voice wavering ever-so-slightly. “Oh thank Merlin.”

“Ron?” he asked, the mission slowly coming back to him, along with a building headache. “The others?”

“Fine, they’re all fine,” she assured him.

She moved away to retrieve his glasses, which gave him the opportunity to take in her appearance closer. His heart clenched at the sight of the darkness under her eyes, the way her freckles stood out against her pallid complexion.

“How long?” he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Ginny gave him a bracing smile. “A week. The Healers said you were fine, but that your magic was keeping in a deep sleep until–”

“Until I was ready,” he finished, thinking of the words that dream Ginny had said to him. He reached over to take her hand, wondering at whether she had been here by his side the entire time. The armchair pulled up next to the bed seemed to be a likely indicator. “I’m sorry…”

She shook her head and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Then his mind starting doing the math. One week, which meant —

Harry pulled her close and buried his face in her comforting hair. “Well, I couldn’t very well miss our anniversary, could I?”

Ginny let out a surprised laugh, curling against him. “You softie. Did you come back just for me?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry traced a finger over the ring on her left hand, remembering his last moments, the feel of her lips on his, the hope of someone to return to. “I always will."

#clarensjoy #prompt #i wrote a thing #hinny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #Harry/Ginny #this took forever #and is rather long

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