#Anyways you know why it got cancelled rip
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Cancelled
Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: T •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •
Summary: Your plans change.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: Sat on a few of these fics for ages because I'm overthinking them, but thought 'ahhh, I need to post them now in time for the event!' Having a deadline is very helpful.
Warnings: Reader experiencing some sensory issues, Jake reading smutty books, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, rail-road sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 801
Your phone buzzes on the bed. The drone is muffled slightly by the pillow it’s under. You finish fixing your outfit in the mirror and sigh.
The material was ever so slightly wrong today. Normally it was fine, but now the feel of it just irritated you. But this was the seventh outfit you’d tried on and honestly if you were going to make it to the restaurant by 8pm, even with Jake’s ingenious driving, you had to leave now.
You pick up your phone, glancing at the screen as you unlock it.
One message.
From one of your friends you were meeting up with. Probably something along the lines of ‘see everyone soon’. Usually you were excited to see them. They were some of your oldest and dearest friends, and you loved their company. But today it just felt off. Getting dressed up and going out. Eating at a semi expensive (for your budget anyway) restaurant that you didn’t even like that much. Putting on your ‘social interaction face’. It all just seems far too exhausting.
Your eyes widened as you read the messages on the group chat.
‘Can’t make it, stupid traffic at the tunnel! Been stuck for 50 mins and haven’t moved!’
‘I can’t either, babysitter fell through!’
‘So sorry everyone, maybe it’s for the best, I’ve got a horrible headache and was gonna power through, but maybe it’s best if we reschedule?’
The last message had you at-ted.
‘It’s that okay with you? Sorry you let you down! <3’
Relief floods your veins and you hastily type a, ‘no worries, let’s reschedule’, adding several happy face emojis out of paranoia that your message could be misread, before you wish everyone well and to have a good evening.
Jake hears you throw your bedroom door open, but doesn’t glance up from where he’s slouched over your armchair reading. It’s one of those bodice-ripping paperbacks from the 80s with the fabulously illustrated covers. Jake’s guilty pleasure. While he knows that Marc and Steven wouldn’t care, and most likely wouldn’t be bothered at all by his reading choices, he also very much does not want them to know. A feeling he’s sure he should try to unpack at some point.
But that was a future Jake task.
Which is why he’d taken to either hiding them behind the cistern in Steven’s flat or keeping them at yours, tucked neatly on your bookshelf (with your permission) behind a row of your books.
“You ready to go amor?” He asked as he turned the page.
You bounded over to him, ripping your stupid, itchy top off in the process. “Excellent news!” You stopped in front of him, smacking your hands onto the armchair for emphasis.
Jake didn’t even flinch, half absorbed in his book and half used to your dramatic flare.
“Oh?” He glanced up at you and paused, a small frown of interest crossing his face. “You don’t have a top on.”
“Exceptional observation skills Lockey.”
He smirks.
“Guess what?”
“You’re embracing a new life as a nudist?”
“The meal’s cancelled.”
“What?”
“The meal’s cancelled. You know cancelled, as in not happening.” You grin.
He gives you a playful look and swats your upper arm softly with his book. (His middle finger pressed inside to keep his page.) “I know what cancelled means, why?”
“Traffic, no babysitter, and headache.” You list the reasons as you count them on your hand excitedly.
He smiles. “Really weren’t feeling it today were you?”
“How could you tell?” You say playfully.
“Well, you kicking the door open to tell me was a good give away.”
You laugh.
“Plus, you really were leaving it pretty fine to get there on time.” He slips his bookmark between the pages and puts the book down on the floor before inching forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and gently pulls you into his lap, giving you plenty of time to step back if you wanted to. “I know how much being late makes you anxious.”
You snuggle up to him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. His day old stubble rubs against your skin. But this sensation is comforting. Like home.
“So you letting it get to this time without us going, or without you telling me off for reading instead of putting my shoes on.”
“I don’t tell you off.” You grumble, your words muffled by how your mouth is pressed against his neck.
Jake laughs. “Playfully.”
You tut affectionately. “Alright, playfully.” You adjust your position on his lap, getting comfortable.
“So, what do you want to do tonight?” He presses a light kiss to your temple.
“Hmm, how about… pizza and you can read some of your smutty book to me?”
He laughs again and kisses your lips. “Sounds good.”
____________________________________________
Thank you for reading!
@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood
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Shout out to the Sanrio Pokemon Go-esque game that was coming and then never happened.
#Mika shushup#I can only guess it was Pokemon Go like???#Anyways you know why it got cancelled rip#Of course I would have Cinnamon as my buddy.
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Okay so what was the most popular Filipino kids show from your generation?
i wouldnt call it a kid's show, but when i was a kid i loved watching Wowowee with my dad- shit was basically filipino jeopardy
#snap chats#idk why i loved it so much LMAO i just know my dad and i would sit on the couch and watch it#and then all the other filipino shows i watched were like. dramas and you know how THOSE go LMAO#i didnt really watch kid's televison whether it was american or filipino so#i mean unless you mean cartoons but i think we all mean shows for them babies#anyway BIG RIP to wowowee since it got cancelled a few years back#like. at least over a decade back LMAO#kinda late to the funeral but whatever
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bnha: voice kink!reader
bakugo | todoroki | kaminari | shinso
because sometimes, just the sound of their voice is enough to make you….
summary: head canons and drabbles on various bnha characters when they find out you have a voice kink
bakugo: the roommate
you’re trying to be quiet knowing you have neighbors, but it’s a little hard to tell how loud your whimpers are with noise cancelling headphones on. and it’s not like your roommate is home anyways, so it’s fine. plus, you can only do so much when you’ve got a dildo in one hand making a mess of your bedsheets. your mind is floating, rubbing your clit with the other, body shuddering in pleasure.
katsuki comes home early from a day of patrol paperwork and settles onto the couch in the livingroom. he can hear you because the walls are too thin in your tiny apartment. he wouldn’t mind (because honestly, everyone does it,) if he didn’t wonder what the hell has you cumming so goddamn much. he glances at the clock nearby; that must have been the fourth or fifth time in less than ten minutes. a small, breathy, “kats-” travels through the thin wall.
that’s it, he has to know.
you’re on the brink of cumming again as the bedroom door slowly swings open. katsuki leans on the doorframe and watches an orgasm rip through your body, back arching off the bed as your legs shake while he goes entirely unnoticed. he pulls the headphones off your head and puts them on before you can stop him. the grin on his face is almost sickening as he listens while you frantically reach for a blanket and your phone to cut the audio. the guy’s voice is low and gruff, filthy words spilling from his lips between growls and heavy groans, and he’s got to be using a pussy sleeve given the wet plap-plap-plap in the background.
funnily enough, katsuki thinks, the voice in question is… kind of similar to his, but his dirty talk is mediocre at best. your head is still foggy and swirling when you stop the audio.
“tch. is this really all it takes to get you off like that? some half-assed dirty talk from a random guy with his dick in his hand?” katsuki teases.
your face burns. “what the fuck are you doing in my room?” you ask as you sit up. “how long have you been here?”
“i can hear you in the other room, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls the headphones off.
your cheeks burn. “then don’t fucking listen, sweetheart. i don’t walk in on you jacking off in the shower twice a day, do i?” you deflate a little when his grin only gets bigger.
“y’said my name. don’t hear me sayin’ yours do ya?” he replies, leaning down to look in your eyes.
your stomach drops. “i-i didn’t-”
“don’t fucking lie to me. answer my question.”
“fine. it slipped out. and no, i don’t. does that stroke your ego enough, asshole? will you get out now?” at this rate, you’ll be looking for another place to live by morning with the level of shame and embarrassment you feel.
katsuki leans in further. you almost pull away, but he grabs you by the neck, his lips grazing your ear. “why should i leave you with that pathetic little toy when i’m right here, hmm?”
“oh fuck,” you whine.
“oh fuck is right, princess,” he says. “lay back down and open your fucking legs.”
soon, katsuki’s got your legs wrapped around his waist as his big, thick cock bullies your already swollen cunt. every grunt, every groan, every word he says is right in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. you’re not sure how many times you’ve cum by the time he’s finished, but you do know you probably have a new record thanks to him.
bakugo with a voice kink!partner
i get the feeling that katsuki knows how sexy his voice is… he’s not that surprised. as a partner, he teases the hell out of you with it. if he finds out you get turned on by him saying the most mundane shit, it’s over for you bbg. he’s going to use it against you lmao.
he likes being close, lots of physical touch (especially during sex), uses touch as a way of communication…. this has its benefits when you’re shivering from his voice and his breath on your skin.
sends you the filthiest audio clips you could ever dream of because he gets off on how much it turns you on. may or may not be stroking it for you to hear while he records them.
will absolutely call you and tease you if he knows you’re turned on/playing with yourself and he’s not around. it doesn’t matter what he’s doing (within reason). if he’s home alone or anywhere he can get away with it, it’s praise, dirty talk, and degradation. if not, he’ll talk to you about anything while he listens and his pants get tight. might even put you on mute during a virtual meeting or smth just so you can hear his voice, knowing what you’re doing while he does.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
todoroki: the clueless nerd
"...yeah. overall, this is well written. if you fix a few things you'll get a much better grade…."
shoto has no fucking clue, does he? you think as he continues to rip apart help you with your essay. it's for one of the last classes you have to take for your major to graduate; the content is dense and your professor is absolutely ruthless. shoto was one of two people in a class of thirty who managed to get higher than an 85 on the first essay, and luckily for you, he's also your friend who's willing to help.
you're trying to focus on shoto's words, truly, you are. but his low, slightly raspy voice is distracting as hell. it makes your skin hot every time he leans into you a little bit to look at your laptop screen to get a better look at what you're doing.
"...so if you break this paragraph up into multiple, you can further expound with an analysis of..."
it feels criminal how good one man can sound. your cheeks are turning red as he plainly explains what can be fixed. you find yourself leaning in as he speaks and you kiss him on the cheek mid-sentence.
shoto stops. he blushes. “i uh. i didn’t know kissing was part of helping you with your essay.”
you laugh softly.
“it’s not. your voice is nice to listen to, and it makes me wanna kiss you. is that okay?”
“y-yeah, that’s okay,” he says, a heavy breath on his lips as he smiles a little.
“then how about you keep talking, and i keep kissing?” you say with a grin and another peck towards his jawline.
shoto replies with a nervous laugh. “that - that might prove to be a little distracting.”
“i think that’s only fair after how long you’ve sat here making it so difficult to focus with that voice of yours.” your lips graze the shell of his ear as you speak and he shudders. you turn his face towards you. “can i kiss you?”
a breathy “yes,” leaves his lips before they crash into yours.
todoroki with a voice kink!partner
if he (somehow) didn't find out abt your kink until you were well into your relationship, he might wonder if there's anything different he should do. he's not insecure, but rather practical and wanting to give you the most pleasure. it's kind of sweet, actually.
shoto is absolutely clueless about how darling his voice is. he’s always a little surprised about how much he can turn you on by just talking. he thought his skill with dirty talk had improved (it had), when really it’s the sound of his voice brushing against the shell of your ear that makes your heart pound.
best moments are when you’re laying in bed and he’s telling you about his day. he’ll never truly get how incredibly sexy that low, raspy murmur of his truly is to you, but he’ll start to get a few hints if you interrupt him with periodic kisses.
he loves discreetly listening to you get off over the phone while he talks to you about whatever.
might try phone sex every now and then, but he’s probably not going to send you audio/video unless you ask him when you’re in the middle of it.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
kaminari: the boyfriend
denki is singing along to the tune on the radio as you sit in his passenger seat. his hand is on your thigh, and your mind can only focus on the bright smile and pretty voice leaving his lips.
“have i ever told you how sexy your voice is?” you ask.
denki stops singing. without missing a beat, he puts on a faux-seductive face and says, “who wouldn’t think this voice is sexyyy?”
“denki, i’m being serious,” you reply as a smile pulls on your cheeks. “you could say just about anything and i’d be able to get off from it.”
“oh really?” his grin widens. “then open those pretty little legs of yours and show me.”
kaminari with a voice kink!partner
once he finds out, he doesn’t realize that he’s so much hotter when he doesn’t try that hard. a little effort goes a long way, and you’re going to have to explain that to him. otherwise you’ll have to put up with his comedic “sexy man” voice when he’s actually trying and you’ll be holding back giggles for the rest of your relationship. 😭
he uses his voice to get you going and tease you once he figures out what you like.
even if you live together, he’s a fan of phone & video sex. whenever he’s gone for more than a day, he’ll be caling you.
denki loves recording the two of you together.
also another one that loves only giving and receiving via audio/video. he’s more than willing to talk to you on the phone discreetly and loves sending clips of him jacking off.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
shinso: the “best friend”
“hey, what’s up?” hitoshi says when he picks up the phone.
a shiver slides down your neck. how is his voice always so damn smooth?
“you busy tonight?” you ask, simultaneously hoping he wouldn’t catch the slight need in your tone while hoping he’d say no. you hear laughter in the background.
“i’m with a couple of the guys, yeah,” he replies slowly. his voice lowers a little. “why do you ask, hmm?”
it’s slight, but you can hear the playfulness in shinso’s expression. heat rushes to your thighs. why does he have to be such a tease? the background noise faded briefly.
you pull your phone away from your ear and mouth a silent, “fuck me,” before answering. “no reason in particular, just wondering if you were free to hang.”
“so you called?” it was more of a statement than a question.
“i- yes, i called,” you say, another flash of heat hitting your cheeks this time. “i’ll let you go. have fun, okay?”
“no. stay on the phone,” he demands. “get something for me.” shinso wasn’t asking for you to get just anything. no, he only said that when he wanted you to pull out a toy, and a specific one at that.
“shin, no. aren’t you with friends?” you ask. truthfully, your heart races at the thought of them possibly overhearing you.
“yes, i am. go on, get it out and send me the link,” he replies.
you sigh and shuffle around a bit as you grumble something about him being obnoxious, trying to avoid telling him that you were already wearing the g-spot vibe he was referring to.
"you've already got it in, don't you?" shinso's voice is warm and deep, so smooth that it slides straight down your body and sinks into your skin.
your shuffling stops. “maybe i do, yeah.”
————
“good girl.” his speech is slow and drawn out as he grins.
denki glances over at him, brows raised. hitoshi listens as a heavy breath leaves your lips. he holds up a hand indicating for denki to give him a moment. he puts a finger to his lips and taps the speakerphone button.
“can you quiet down? jeez. someone’s gonna hear you,” you reply.
“send me the link and maybe, yeah,” he says.
now denki, hanta, eijiro, and even katsuki fall quiet, not knowing what’s going on. a text message pops up on his screen.
“there it is. you listen so well, pretty girl.”
you hold back a moan. “fuck, don’t talk like that. what do you mean maybe?” you ask.
hitoshi turns on the vibrator and a whimper comes through the speaker. “i think you might enjoy it if everyone knew what you were doing right now.”
————
a shudder rolls down your back. “f-fuck you,” you say weakly.
“oh you want me to fuck you, huh? wanna hear me moaning in your ear instead?” hitoshi teases.
he starts moving the control for the vibe from low to high in waves and you can’t hold back a moan. your hand sinks between your legs to relieve the ache of your throbbing clit.
“yes, please, your voice is so sexy. wish you were here,” you reply
“stop on by, sweetheart.”
another smug voice chimes in.
“yeah, there’s plenty of you to go around, i bet,” denki says.
you groan, the weight of his voice and his words falling into your ear. “‘toshi, you fucking asshole.”
hitoshi put the vibe on high and left it there as your whining moans filled the room.
“what? you sound so pretty when you moan for me. it would be impolite to keep that from my guests, don’t you think?”
shinso with a voice kink!partner
shinso has a voice modulator with his hero costume. do you rly think he doesn’t know the power his voice could have over you without his quirk? he’s a smooth talker when he wants to be. he knows.
he’s constantly trying to nuzzle up to you and use that tone of voice that makes your head fuzzy. he could be telling you about the weather or his plans for the day and you’ll have goosebumps shooting over every inch of your skin because he’s damn good at it. then he’s all, “aww, what’s wrong, kitten?” like he doesn’t already know while you bury your face in his chest.
also calls you often or leaves unnecessarily long audios to give you something to listen to. sometimes it’s just to be sweet and let you hear his voice because it’s soothing to you. other times? he wants to hear what his voice does to you.
can totally see him asking to listen as you get off because your voice turns him on just as much. may discover his own voice kink.
will occasionally send audios of him jacking off as a way of showing love.
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#aged up characters#feeling meh abt this but at least it’s out of my drafts#heads up there will be no pt 2 I just don’t have it in me sorry loves#bnha#mha#x reader#bnha smut#mha smut#bhna x reader#bakugou katsuki#todoroki shouto#kaminari denki#shinsou hitoshi#bakugou smut#shinsou smut#todoroki smut#kaminari smut#bakubunny
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So wonwoo likes to sleep naked eh… that’s um, useful information
you’ve had hundreds of sleepovers with your best friend, that’s why you don’t think anything of it when you slip into bed beside him— only to feel his bare hip brush up against yours.
you hadn’t told him you were coming over, hadn’t announced yourself when you slipped into his room, hadn’t thought you needed to. mingyu, his roommate, let you in without a word when he saw the state you were in, jerking his head in the direction of wonwoo’s room before disappearing into his own.
you figured your best friend must still be awake, likely hunched over his keyboard with his noise canceling headphones blocking out the world. but his room is dark when you enter and you can hear him snoring softly.
you smile to yourself and set your bag on his desk chair. you had been looking forward to talking to him, looking forward to the advice he’d give you (that you probably wouldn’t take) when you told him about the new shitty guy you’re seeing, but that would have to wait. for now, you’ll settle for crawling into bed with him and praying for rest.
only, now you know you won’t be getting any sleep any time soon.
what the fuck are you supposed to do? try and sneak back out? what if he wakes up? and it’s not like you can stay. that’ll only make it weirder.
“hm, what time is it?”
you freeze, hoping he hasn’t noticed you lying right beside him, even though the fact that he’s speaking out loud implies that he knows you’re there. his brain takes a second to catch up, though, and then he’s scrambling to rip the comforter from your grasp to cover himself— even though you couldn’t see anything before anyway.
“what the fuck are you doing here?!”
“mingyu let me in!”
“i didn’t ask how you got in, i asked why.”
“i… couldn’t sleep at my place.”
he softens at that. “nightmares?”
you shake your head. “it just felt… wrong.”
he nods even though you’re sure he doesn’t understand. how could he understand?
“i keep telling you not to let them sleep over,” he mumbles. “they always leave weird energy behind.”
so maybe he does get it.
“i’m sorry,” is all you offer.
he’s the one to shake his head this time. “you know you’re always welcome here. just, send a guy a text next time?”
you snort. “what, you don’t want to wake up naked in bed with your best friend?”
“i never said that,” wonwoo clarifies. your smile wanes as you process what he’s implying. “i’d just rather her also be naked.”
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By the time half of his nine a.m. class called out sick with migraines, Hob knew something was seriously wrong.
He himself hadn’t even slept at all the night before. It wasn’t impossible for that to happen, despite the fact he was dating The King of Dreams, Lord of Sleep, etc, because Dream refused to outright control Hob’s sleep—which Hob thought was admirably restrained of him, actually. When Hob had asked why Dream wasn’t particular about it as he was about so many other things, Dream had said that ‘the mind’s independent exploration of the unconscious is crucial to mental functioning.’ So Hob being kept up by work or mundane worries was always possible, if rare given the natural effects of his proximity to Dream.
But something about sitting up in bed that night, sleepless, nagged at his mind. He hadn’t seen Dream that day, either. Hob was a little… touchy about risks to Dream, a little hyper-attentive to hints of occult wrongdoing or broad disruptions to sleep. He’d failed to help Dream once. He wouldn’t again.
So it was already prickling at the back of his mind before he opened his laptop that morning to dozens of emails of students calling out sick. Hob himself had been spared any migraines, but all the messages dropped like stones in his stomach. Dream. It must be. Was he captured? Hurt? Did someone summon him again?
He had just sent an email cancelling class and was halfway to the door, not knowing where he was about to charge off to but doing it anyway, when Matthew landed hard on the windowsill and started pecking at the glass.
Hob rushed back over, heart jumping in his throat, dropping his bag. So it was Dream. Something was wrong.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded as he wrenched open the window and Matthew tumbled in. “What happened? Where’s Dream?”
Matthew stumbled onto the side table, flapping ragged wings. A couple of loose feathers shook out. “So he’s not here? Shit, dude, I was hoping—”
“Matthew. What happened.”
“We got attacked.” Matthew shuddered. “Boss fought ‘em off, but now I can’t find him anywhere.”
“You can’t find him in the Dreaming?” Hob tried not to let this come out hysterically, but he didn’t entirely succeed.
“The place is fucked— look, if he’s not here, you should just come back with me.” He flapped up and landed on Hob’s shoulder, claws piercing his jumper. “I think I can maybe— yep—”
The world swirled around them in a million colors, flashes of unfathomable places and sounds, and then they were stumbling dizzily into the throne room—or what was left of it.
“Shit, get back!”
Matthew hauled Hob backwards by the collar of his jumper before Hob could go tumbling into a crack— no, a void in the marble floor. It went straight down into infinity, dizzying and unreal. Heart jumping in his throat, he stumbled backward, nearly tripping. Then sucked in a deep breath and looked up and around.
The crevasse he’d nearly fallen into wasn’t the only crack in the throne room floor. The entire castle, the fabric of the Dreaming itself, was rent in concentric circles, a spiraling pattern where the rock and sky had been pulled apart from itself and nothing showed through. Slices in reality—or rather in dreams—where it cracked open into the fundamental void of the universe.
Hob look away from it, horrified, a fierce headache brewing behind his eyes. He kept his gaze trained on the intact sections of the castle.
“Place is fucked,” Matthew repeated—a massive understatement—landing again on Hob’s shoulder, well away from the crevasse. “Watch those gaps. That’s raw nothingness, it’s usually outside the Dreaming.”
“Wasn’t planning on going in them.” Hob walked carefully across the intact portion of the floor, wincing at the gouges ripping open the throne room. If the Dreaming looked like this, then Dream probably did, too. Or something like. “Tell me what happened exactly?”
“Okay, so, according to Luce, a billion years ago, these ancient beings attacked the Dreaming, and—”
——
How
dare
they?
Fools. Arrogant fools. To think that because the Dreaming was newly remade that the Dream Lord was weak. To return.
When last their paths had crossed, he had torn their leader’s spine from its back. He wore its skull still as a symbol, a warning. And yet they dared to return and challenge him again.
He had shown them. They had dug their talons in, held tight with sharp teeth, but he had strong jaws, too. He had ripped them out: root, stem, bone, cell, torn them apart, disintegrated them, shredded them just as they had asked for. It had taken much out of him. But he had shown them.
Now…
Where…
was he?
“Dream?”
Somewhere in the Dreaming…
“Hey, love. Can you hear me?”
…he had been looking for something… respite… he had not found it, quite. He had gone through a dream of burning flowers… through a nightmare of sweet lovemaking… no, that was… not right…
“Dream.”
Hands on him. The gashes torn through him where starlight leaked. Hob had made this place. A dream version of the safest place that Dream knew.
“I can hear you,” Dream murmured. Opened his eyes. The rug on Hob’s living room floor greeted him. Hob’s knees, just in his line of sight, where he was kneeling. Hob’s hands on his shoulder. He was bleeding there, and elsewhere.
Hob touched Dream’s cheek. “Took me ages to find you.”
“You made this place,” Dream said, finding Hob’s knee with a shaky hand and squeezing it.
“Did I?” Hob looked up and around. “It’s just my flat.”
“A place where we spend much time, even in dreams.” He groaned as Hob helped him sit up, leaning him against the couch. The ancient ones were destroyed, cast like so much dust out of the Dreaming, but the damage they had inflicted remained. Including on Dream’s own form.
“I tried to find your dreams,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch, already tired, “after.” He had known that Hob’s mind was a place where he might recuperate from the strain of fighting those terrible creatures, and that Hob, unlike most humans, was familiar enough with the Dreaming not to buckle under the shock of what he saw. “But you were not sleeping.”
Hob studied him with concern. “I wasn’t the only one.”
Dream stiffened. Bad enough, the damage to the Dreaming. “Have I inflicted much harm on the Waking world?”
“No, love, I think they’ll be okay. Once you are. Will you be? The throne room was, well— nightmarish.”
“I will repair it,” Dream said. He was relieved the damage had not spread too far into the Waking, though he would have to examine it himself—Hob would not be able to see the full scope. But Waking world effects were much harder for Dream to fix. And to think that he might have harmed his dreamers…
“And what about you?” Hob asked. He cupped Dream’s face in his hand. Dream still felt inestimably tired. But he had to get back to the core of the Dreaming, not this tiny corner crafted by Hob, no matter how comforting it was, or how much he might wish he could stay, just for a moment longer.
“This is not the first time the Dreaming has been attacked,” he told Hob. “I have repelled them before, and I did so again now. The damage was greater last time, in fact.”
“This may surprise you, but that’s not comforting to me,” Hob said.
“The Dreaming will not fall,” Dream repeated. “You need not worry.” He wouldn’t let it happen again. Not after that first attack, so long ago. Not after his recent absence had done so much damage.
“And what about you?” Hob repeated.
Dream knew what Hob wanted from him, but to leave to the Waking now and indulge himself in proper ‘rest and recovery’ as Hob might deem it was not an option for him. He could not leave the Dreaming in such a precarious state, no matter the effects upon himself.
He stood up, bracing himself on the couch. Hob followed him, alarmed. Dream swayed, then caught his balance and stood tall. The gouges torn through him from the monsters’ claws caught on his shirt and coat, and he winced, despite himself.
“I will not fall, either,” he told Hob. “You needn’t worry.”
Hob sighed, mouth tilting in disappointment, but didn’t tell him off. He traced his fingertips over one of the deep cuts in Dream’s coat, where a claw mark curved over his shoulder, dark blood caught in the edges of the fabric.
“I have rested here for some time already,” Dream told him. Though it had not been a wholly conscious decision to do so.
“Sure,” said Hob. Dream braced himself to again be told that he must rest. Instead, Hob tilted Dream’s head down, and kissed his forehead.
“Lover of mine,” Dream murmured, wrapping his hands lightly around Hob’s wrists. “I am sorry to worry you.”
“Let me come with you?” Hob said, but Dream shook his head.
“Matthew should not have brought you to the palace, it is not safe for dreamers. Nor even for Matthew. When I have mended the borders of unreality, then you can visit there again. I thank you—” he tilted his head at the image of the flat around them “—for your hospitality.”
“Your hospitality,” said Hob. He took Dream’s hands and squeezed them. “Be safe.”
Dream kissed Hob’s cheek, and whispered, with a curl of his power, “Wake, Hob.”
Then he was alone, and so he traveled, painfully, back to the center of his realm.
——
It rent Dream’s heart to see the Dreaming in such a state, flayed, shredded to ribbons. But the active danger had passed. This now was the cleanup after a storm, and his efforts, at least, would improve things, instead of merely staunching the flow of blood.
Carefully, deftly, as a surgeon with a needle, Dream mended the gouges in the Dreaming. Careful not to tug on the raw edges and split them again. The void retreated to its proper space beyond the walls. The Dreaming groaned in pain to be drawn back in from its chaotic spiral, but Dream made it hold. It must hold.
Soon the crevasses shrank to mere cracks in the marble, and the sky into careful patchwork of blue and clouds. Dream’s head ached, like the migraines the attack had given to some of his dreamers. He finally allowed himself to stop, to sink down to the throne room floor and press his forehead to the cold stone. It offered some relief.
He felt when Matthew reentered the Dreaming, and then the flutter of his wings as he landed beside him. To keep him away from the dangers of the fragmented Dreaming, Dream had sent him to survey the damage in the Waking world, and then, when he was finished, to appease Hob with his presence and assure him of Dream’s continued ability to stand upright.
“Uh, boss?” said Matthew, bobbing beside him, tilting his head to catch Dream’s eye.
Dream looked at him out of the corner of his eye, head still pressed to the floor. “Yes?”
“You good?”
“Yes, Matthew.”
Matthew fluttered his wings, and looked up and around at the throne room. “Place looks better?”
“The bulk of the damage is mended,” said Dream.
“Great,” said Matthew. “Well. If you’re done having floor time here, Hob would really like to see you. Like really. ‘Practically threw me out a window to check on you’ really.”
“He worries,” said Dream, with fondness.
“I wonder why,” said Matthew. Dream did not call out his insolence. This time.
He did push himself back up to sitting, then, more slowly than he would have liked, climbed to his feet. “I will call on him. Will you do a brief survey of the borderlands to check for lingering damage? Then, please rest.”
Matthew gave him a look that should not have been possible for a bird, but which Dream understood to be pointing out his own hypocrisy. But Dream did not address it, instead pulling forth a pinch of his sand, and traveling to the Waking.
——
Hob was fucking fretting like he’d rarely fretted before. He was also realizing how common an occurrence this had become since dating the King of Dreams. Fucker. Hob was going to go gray, immortal body aside.
But he would readily admit that he did also admire Dream’s dedication to his realm. Dream would not be Dream if he abandoned the Dreaming in a state—and what a state it had been—for his own needs. That was the person Hob had fallen in love with, a person whose sense of responsibility was as serious as his creations were whimsical. And love him Hob did.
He was still awake, late that night, waiting in hopes that Dream would finish his repairs and return to assure Hob of his well-being, or, luck willing, to rest a while. Waiting. Hob was good at waiting.
And his patience, his tolerance, paid off, for around four in the morning, Dream appeared in Hob’s flat by way of a cloud of sparkling sand. He looked at Hob, still sitting up on the couch, legs stretched out, reading a book. His exhaustion was evident in how long it took him to manage to say, “You are still awake.”
“Yup,” said Hob, setting aside the book. Relieved beyond measure to see him whole. Dream was even still on his feet, though looked decidedly like it would be better for him not to be.
Without further words Dream stumbled over to him, coat and shoes vanishing as he went, and curled up in his lap. He tucked his head under Hob’s chin. Buried his cold hands under Hob’s jumper.
Hob kissed the top of his head, and pulled the blanket down off the back of the couch to drape over him, wrapped his arms tight around his back. “You fixed everything, then?” he said, voice hushed in the night hour. But it was too late to ask questions, for the King of Dreams was already asleep.
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Love Across Dimensions spicy part 2
Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader s/o
Gif credits to @miguelo-hara
Part 1 , Long Distance NSFW blurb
Synopsis: You're from a different dimension than him. You didn't ask to fall in love with the protector of the multiverse, and it sure as hell isn't easy being in a long distance relationship with him. This whole thing is you two being needy ASF for each other. 😏🔥 Outline/headcanon ish format. Word count: 2.3k
TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(PHONE SEX, MASTURBATING, CONSENSUAL VOYEURISM, FINGERING, P IN V, SPANKING, HICKEYS, DADDY KINK, USE OF SEX TOYS(VIBRATOR)LITTLE DEGRADATION,ORAL F RECEIVING, SLIGHT YANDERE IN ONE STATEMENT TOWARDS THE END, RELATIONSHIP DIFFICULTY.
---------
(red is you, black is him)
Are you finally gonna let me talk?
I don't know. Are you finally going to keep the promises you make to me?
Stop it. You know when I get an alert that means I need to go, babe. I didn't break it because I wanted to.
I'm just so sick of this, Miguel. You always feel like you have to save everything and everyone. You don't need to be the hero all the time. You have Jess, Peter, Ben..lots of people who are perfectly capable of handling things for you while you're gone.
I have a job to do, it's as simple as that.
And you also have someone right here who loves you and instead of us finally seeing each other after 3 months apart for my birthday, which, by the way was supposed to be an entire weekend but I compromised and canceled the Airbnb & settled for just seeing you for a couple hours and dinner at home and instead, I'm once again up all goddamn night waiting for you and worried about whether my boyfriend is going to actually be alive the next fucking day.
Let me make it up to you.
That's what you said last time.
I mean it this time.
Anyway it's 4 am and I need to be up in literally an hour. Goodnight.
Baby...wait.
*Click*
You hang up and throw your phone on the edge of your bed and sink back under the covers, shuddering as you let your tears of frustration soak your pillowcase.
You doze off for several moments and jolt awake when you hear that familiar zapping sound of an orange portal.
Miguel walks through, eyes a fiery Vermillion fuming under a furrowed brow. "Don't hang up on me again."
You're secretly floating on the inside but you sit up, crossing your arms, holding your ground. He's not going to get off so easily this time.
"What are you doing here?"
"Not happy to see me?" His brow raises.
"No." You scoff, but the corners of your mouth start to give you away.
"Don't be like that..." Miguel croons, honey lacing his tone. He knew he could crack you easier than a chestnut.
"I'm not in the..... mood." Your voice gets quiet at the last word and your chest heaves when his suit deactivates, leaving him bare in front of you.
"Don't look away from me." He says quietly, taking your face in his hands, slipping under the covers with you, gasping at the feeling of his warm thigh touching your hip.
"I have work this morning..." You start to protest.
"Mmm? Well you can't work a full shift on only an hour of sleep." Miguel says, peppering your cheeks with kisses.
His minty breath and slight musk coming off his skin is completely throwing you off guard.
"I...mph...I started my period, today, actually...." Your face relaxes and you finally let out a soft moan of surrender as Miguel reclines you back, focusing on the outline of his broad shoulders rippling as he lays himself carefully on top of you.
He pauses for a moment, then the corner of his mouth twitches. "Do you have a clean towel?"
Needless to say, Miguel got his red wings that night.
- Sometimes he keeps a pair of your panties, putting it in his luggage before he leaves. He used to just rip them off you with his talons. But, one time after you two had sex, you used the bathroom and walked back in on him pressing the lace thong to his nose.
You smirked, "Why not just take it with you? And, you won't have to replace another pair."
He loved the idea and started doing it from then on. Saving his wallet and your sanity.
-The "I've missed you" sex is something else. When he can only visit for a few hours it's desperate, rough fucking. The kind of sex where as he's tearing your clothes off, he's telling you,
"Don't have very long baby, sorry if I'm a little rough....." He nips your bottom lip with his teeth tweaking the buds of your breasts in his fingers.
"¿Te parece bien?" (Is that okay with you?)
Fuck yes it is.
The kind where it feels like this fuck session is going to be his last, the way he's moaning, taking the Lord's name in vain over and over while simultaneously praising Him for the soft gift of your body underneath him.
The kind where you're bent over the arm of your couch, taking his cock all at once, over, and over, a battering ram against your cervix. Your eyes are watering, begging for a time out, so he'll pause and relieve your pussy from behind with his tongue, the globes of your ass nearly suffocating his face as he buries himself in between them, starting with your clit and pussy at the bottom then moving on up to eating your ass, slipping a finger into the tight ring of muscle making you groan.
Then, his pretty, glistening face will come back up, his chest pressing into your back with a hand around your throat for support, letting you have a taste of yourself off his lips. They're puffy, wet and sloppy as he glides his cock back into you, slipping into you much easier now.
"Got you nice and wet this time, hmm cariño?" he lays a sharp smack on your ass in praise, the smacking sounds of skin and your high pitched moans piercing the room once more.
- It's soft, sensual, passionate fucks when his visits are longer. The kind of sex with rounds. Start at 10 pm, end at 5 am kind. The, "let's see how many surfaces in this hotel room we can christen with me fucking you on top of it" kind.
The kind of sex that has you zoned out your entire college lecture because the flashbacks just pop up, making you clench your thighs. The kind where he's balls deep in your soaked pussy, and it's still not close enough. The kind where you two swear the sweat from your bodies is making you melt into the other's skin. The kind where he says "I love you" with every thrust of his cock.
When he's fucking you like this he's worshipping your body, particularly focusing on your breasts and tummy at first because when he reaches your pussy, he'll be there for hours. He starts by taking your tits and pushing them up gently, holding their weight, admiring how pretty they look in his hands.
Some time later he'll sit you up in Lotus. The angle his cock is going into you in this position is so good, you're sighing and fighting to keep your eyes open but he'll take your chin in his fingers, kiss you, and lean back a little, making sure you get a good view of his wet cock sliding in and out. Watching him fuck you is a requirement.
"No, baby, abre los ojos....recuerdas? (Open your eyes, you remember?)
You nod dumbly.
"Good fucking girl..." while he watches you with a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
-But there's nothing like a good finger fuck from him.
"You're so beautiful..." he whispers while looking down at you, his pretty lips wrapping around your nipple again, his large pad of his tongue doing laps around your areola as he eases two fingers into your pussy with a tight squeeze. You arch your back and press the back of your head into your mattress, eyes shut tight. He begins to move his fingers in an agonizing rhythm while looking at you with his head cocked to the side.
"Does that feel good, baby?" He whispers.
"Nghhh....." you whine a little bit, struggling to adjust to the girth of his thick fingers.
Miguel eases his fingers a bit, curling them a little slower, pressing upwards softly, then brushing them gently down in a circular pattern against the walls of your pussy, coaxing the soul out of your body in a relaxed, steady pump.
"That better...?" He asks gently.
You nod. "Yes, baby...."
Then he hits the sweet spot.
"Oh.......baby.....right there..."
"Right here, sweetheart?"
Fuck, he hits it perfectly.
"Yes baby......oh baby, please, please don't stop..."
"Oh...." Miguel whispers, eyes melting as he keeps his fingers in your favorite spot.
"I won't..." he kissed your forehead.
"Am I making you feel good, sweet girl?"
"Yes, Daddy you are..."
"Fffuck...what was that, baby?" Miguel chuckles and smirks as he keeps finger fucking you.
"Yes, Daddy...." Your eyes roll back, and your breathing speeds up. He's fucking you too good at this point.
Miguel's cock is painfully hard now.
"Hmmm....one more time for me, mami."
"Yes, Daddy..."
Miguel bites his lip, leaning even closer to you, adding his thumb to your clit and swirling it, making you whine even more.
"Just for that, daddy's gonna make you cum."
-Hickeys only where he can see. You love looking at them when you're alone while he's gone.
"One more, baby, just one more...." He teases playfully, locking his lips around your sore ass cheek, several red purplish marks already left behind. You whine a little and bury your head in the pillow, trying to take your mind off the aching suction.
"Babyyyy...," you whine.
"Mmm, mmm, be patient, baby, almost done." He kneads the flesh of your ass with his hands.
"M' sore...." you exhale, but starting to enjoy the way he's massaging your ass.
He ignores you, focused on branding your ass with his spit.
"M'hungryyy...." you whine, adding a dash of sweetness that you know he always gives in to.
"I'll buy you lunch baby, just a few more minutes..." He mumbles, still occupied with your ass.
You pout but let him have his way this time.
-You two have a consensual agreement to voyeurism whenever you shower, or masturbate, he'll sometimes watch you via his surveillance screens at work. It's almost always a bad time for him though, being the workaholic he is. But once in a while he'll cave.
Miguel grumbles and activates his mask, loading the coordinates in his watch when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you undressing in your bathroom in the small, minimized window he keeps open for you in the bottom corner of the screen on his watch.
"Really, right now?" He whispers, exasperated.
But then the water turns on and he sees you move the detachable shower head up and down the front of your body, starting with the top of your lead, then watering your tits. The droplets kiss your body and soak it, leaving it shiny and wet. Miguel's getting hard now.
You place a hand on the steamy glass door and open your legs, letting the stream hit you in that spot you love so much.
5 minutes is all I need.
"Ben. Change of plans, need you on Earth-67. Goblin's at it again. I'll be right behind you."
"Wait, what..."
Miguel doesn't answer as he's already briskly walking away for a quiet place to enjoy the show.
-Phone sex always starts off a little awkward but it's always shamelessly filthy as you two lay in your separate locations, letting each other hear the other one fuck themselves. (red is you, black is him)
"How long have we been talking by now, anyway?"
"No clue."
.......
So, did I tell you Jazmin's engaged? I'm supposed to be a bridesmaid. I need to get my dress next month and I'm kind of nervous.
.......
Hello?
....
Baaabe?
Hm?
You distracted or what?
I am technically working, you know.
Hah. Of course you are.
I thought you were only calling me for one reason.
Which was?
Don't play dumb, cariño.
No, really, what?
Very funny.
What?
Just shut up and start moaning or something, idk.
Oh my God!
What, phone sex is too much for you now?
No, but now you just ruined the mood.
Not my problem.
That's too bad, I had a whole outfit planned and everything.
Care to share what this 'outfit' looks like?
No way. I'm still mad at you.
You're not mad when I'm eating you out like the last supper.
Stop!
C'mon now baby...
Uh uh.
*Exhales* Cariño...
Fuck. You...
Baby...
*Grumbles*
Mi amor, mi vida, mi alma....
*Speechless*
My goddess...
*Getting weak*
My sexy little wife...
*Deep breath*
Mrs. O'Hara...
*quietly* Mrs. O'Hara....
Mmmmmm...does that excite you, hermosa?
yes baby....what are you thinking about right now?
I'm stroking my cock, wishing I was fucking that pretty pussy....
Miguellll.....
Shhhhh...baby.....not so loud...
Baby pleaseee...
Keep making those sounds for me baby. Tell me that I'm all yours.
You're mine...
Keep going....
You're all mine baby. I don't want anyone else but you....
Ffuck, that's right baby. Are you touching yourself?
Yes baby, I am...
Good girl....God you're so fucking sexy.
Oh....
Do you have your vibrator on?
Yes baby I do...
Good...put it on that clit for me.
Oh....oh my fucking God....
Yeah....like the way I'm spoiling your pussy, hmm?
Yes Daddy, I love it..... I love it so much.....
Call me that again...
Daddy....
That's right baby...such a filthy girl.
Yeah....
So fuckin naughty..
Yes Daddy I am...
Fffuck.....you're all mine right baby?
Yes Daddy...
You belong to me?
Yes Daddy I'm all yours....
Fffuck that's right baby...you're all fucking mine. Gonna fucking kill anybody that takes you away from me..
I love you so fucking much....
I fucking love you baby...God you drive me so fuckin insane...
Miguel.....Baby, I wanna cum....
Cum for me princesa...wanna hear you whine while I make you cum all over my cock....
Oh God....
Tell me you're close baby?
I'm close, baby....
God I wanna fucking ruin you...
Ruin me baby...
I'm gonna fuckin ruin you....pound you....fuck you so fucking hard....
Mmmmm yeah?
Gonna fucking shove this cock down your pretty throat....let you swallow my cum...
Oh baby I want you so fucking bad...
How much baby?
So fucking much baby, you're all I think about...I cum just thinking about you....
Cum for me right now.
Ohhhhhhh....
*Panting*
Baby....
Was that good for you baby?
Yes baby....it was fucking amazing...
Good... because we're doing it again.
-------
😇
#miguel o'hara#spotify#miguel atsv#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel ohara smut#across the spiderverse
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Look it was a really fuckin rough day and internet drama is what is keeping me afloat so here's some bullshit about Watcher
I don't want to talk about creative decisions. Creators deserve to be paid and TV costs a lot of money, and whether you think a TV model makes sense and reflects the brand's appeal is ultimately a matter of taste.
I want to talk about how much this fuckin thing costs.
If you are going to make a venture like this survive, you must aim at the money. I am the money. I'm financially independent and old enough to have kids who watch the show but have no income, I am a long-time BFU/Watcher fan who's splashed out for merch and a live show, and I've subbed to multiple similar services (RIP Alpha). I am the boring adult that you must convince, because I am the one who can pay for this without a second thought. You will not make it through this on the empty promises of children.
The closest comp to Watcher is not Dropout; it's Nebula. And trust me on this- they would prefer you to compare it to Dropout, because of how much better it makes them look. Compared on full prices (because you can almost always get a discount), Nebula costs half of what Watcher does, for a much, much larger catalog. I am a huge fan of Nebula. I've watched hundreds of hours on Nebula, because there is loads of varied content from creators who have expressed exactly the same wishes for creative freedom as the Watcher team.
And honestly, if we are gonna talk about comparisons to Dropout, you're never gonna be able to watch BFU on this service, so it's apples to oranges anyway.
I am certain that they will make more money percentage-wise through this service. It's not on me to care about their yield from youtube vs a dedicated streaming service vs a partnered streaming deal. That's not my job; I'm not their accountant or their dad. It's on me to look at value for money. I am not a charity, and when you put yourself up as a commodity, I'm gonna kick the tires and leave if I don't like the price.
I'm not going to pay $60 for this, or $42, or $6/month, because it's a bad value on my end. It is less content for more money. $30 still would have been too high, but there was a price point where I, the person with the intersection of money and interest, would have said yes. That is the trade-off: you can wait around forever for somebody to spend $60 and end up with $0, or you can get three people who balked in for $20 each and end up with $60.
Look, we're all friends here, we know the Watcher crew is not so damn dumb that they didn't look into joining an existing streaming service. It's not a fuckin grand revelation that there were potentially other options, and obviously they must have thought about this for longer than ten minutes. But when your service is MUCH more expensive than its closest comparison (Nebula) and the same price as the well-established competitor you'd like to be compared to (Dropout), why on god's green earth would you think I would buy it if I was anything short of obsessed? Where is your growth plan? How is this sustainable? The absolute best plan for me is to wait until the next series of Ghost Files is over, pay $6 to watch the whole series, then cancel again.
Also you're fuckin leaving money on the table by not having delayed VOD on youtube but at this point, that's none of my business.
If it's worth $60 to you and you've got the money, you do what's right for you. But I'm out. No hard feelings! But also no $60.
(Also I do think 100% saying that the back catalog will stay on youtube is a walkback and not what he said in the video, so like, watch that)
#watcher#anyway off to watch some nebula I think#oh yeah I forgot#most of nebula cross-posts to youtube anyway
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could you write sam and reader getting into an argument because sam is so overprotective and tries to keep reader at home to keep her safe from ghostface but reader wants to go out, reader accidentally lets a “fuck you” towards sam slip during the argument and sam immediately puts her back in her place with smut please, i love the way you write sam so much
a/n: dropped everything I was doing to write this and all of a sudden its 2 AM??? Anyway, I love this.
A Slipping Mind (Samantha Carpenter x Reader)
Description: Sam always knows what's best for you.
WC: 1.8k
Warnings: toxic relationship, very slight mentions of murder, possessive!Sam, smut, praise kink, fingering, slight dumbification, top!Sam, bottom!reader, etc.
“I DON'T know what you want from me, Samantha! Its like you won’t let me be my own fucking person,” you seethed, pressing your fingertips to your temple in an attempt to calm yourself down. The person you argued with remained quiet, face impassive as she closed the door to your apartment and stripped off her jacket.
“You’re not going.” She said, voice stern and even. “End of discussion-”
“-Like hell it is,” you interrupted. But even as you said this your voice shook, and you wondered when her emotions would boil over and result in another fist through the wall. Ultimately, there was no going back. “I bought a costume for this party. I canceled plans for this party. I got a goddamn tattoo for this party-”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you did or didn’t do for this frat party, y/n.” She sighed, interrupting you this time. “It's Halloween weekend. He could be anywhere, and here you are acting like a child while I’m trying to protect you.”
“I can protect myself.”
“Right. Because that went so well the last time.”
“Of course you’re gonna bring that up right now,” you nodded in exasperation and bit your knuckle, stomping into your shared bedroom and tearing off your shirt. “Real fucking mature, babe.”
Sam followed close behind you, watching as you grabbed your costume out of the closet. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to wait for you to get stabbed again?” She quipped before ripping the fabric from your hands and stepping close to you, forcing you to back up against the wall. Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, bra clad breasts brushing against her shirt with her proximity. “Or maybe you want me to say it to your grave after they find you dead in a fucking alley.”
“Fuck you.” you pushed out through gritted teeth as phantom pain from your last encounter with a murderer flooded through your lower stomach. The scarred skin puffed out in a jagged pale line.
The browns of her irises disappeared as her pupils dilated. She was looking down at you with a predatory glare; not unlike that of a caged lion. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
Your head tilted up. "Go fuck yourself," you laughed humorlessly, pushing roughly against her chest and wincing as she shoved you back against the wall with little to no effort.
Her tongue peaked out to wet her bottom lip, mouth morphing into a malicious smile. "Why would I do that when I could just fuck this attitude out of you?"
Her right hand wrapped around your throat to keep your head back against the wall and in place as she slammed her lips to yours harshly, her other hand dropping the costume. It was messy. Teeth and tongue and demanding lips all working together to force you into submission.
At first you fought back, squirming in place with your body pinned between her and the wall. You kept your lips stagnant and wrapped your hands around her wrist in a pathetic attempt to remove her hand from your neck. All she did was reach behind your back with her free hand, unclasping your bra with ease and smirking against you as you momentarily forgot to fight against the lust building within you, lips moving like fire against hers.
“There she is.” Her voice was unhinged as she murmured against you. Her thumb dug into your jugular, feeling the blood pump as your heart struggled to keep its pace.
You could feel yourself giving in, brain struggling to remember why you were fighting in the first place; body relaxing in her grasp and hands dropping to your sides. “You’re crazy.” You insisted as a last ditch effort to maintain some ounce of your dignity.
“You fucking love it.” She countered, moving her lips off of yours and nipping at your jaw, pulling at your bra until it fell from your body.
As soon as those four words left her mouth, you were a goner. She had you where she wanted you, reading your mind like it was a picture book. You did love it. You loved it so much you hated it. “I do,” you relented, voice pitching up when she bit your earlobe; mouth in the shape of a knowing smile.
Using the grip she had on your neck, Sam pulled you back from the wall and turned the both of you around, guiding you expertly toward the bed. “You don’t wanna go to that party, baby.”
Your back hit the mattress with a light thud, brain all light and foggy.
“You’d rather stay here, with me.” She assured. “Isn’t that right?”
You gasped when her lips fell to your neck and instantly located your weak spot. “Mhm…” came your hummed agreement. “With you.”
Her hands began to wander, skimming over the peaks of your breasts and tracing each rib with her lithe fingers. Her nails dug into your hips as she took her time devouring you. Her shirt rubbed up against your bare nipples with each shift and you thought you’d go crazy because of her. Your mind was slipping.
Teeth dug into your clavicle, a moan escaped you against your will. “Wait, Sam.” You panted weakly. “Wanna… wanna go t-”
“-Shhh, pretty girl. Don’t think.” She shifted down your body and breathed against your sternum. “Just lay here and be good like I know you can. Let me make you feel good.”
Her lips pressed against the valley between your breasts, trailing kisses along the underside of your tit and nipping lightly at the swell of your flesh. Shifting desperately, you brought your hands to the nape of her neck and pulled her mouth to your nipple needily.
Warm lips encompassed one nipple, rolling the other between her skilled fingers. Your hips twitched up when she sucked, tongue rolling over the hardened bud and fingers tugging at the other simultaneously. Her unoccupied hand moved to pull at the button of your jeans with the sureness of an expert. When she got it undone, she detached her mouth from you and moved to the other side.
As soon as she felt both nipples had fair treatment, she moved down your body and unzipped your jeans, pulling them off of you and finding you bare beneath them. The sight set her mind ablaze, dripping cunt throbbing and naked and waiting for her.
Her hands gripped your thighs roughly and pushed them far apart. “You were made for me.”
She kneeled between your legs and dragged her fingers through the soaked heat that rested between them. “I’d never let you go to that stupid fucking party; never let anyone see what’s mine.”
You pushed your hips toward her, watching as she sucked her fingers clean with a hum. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”
Her eyes stared into yours, soaking in the way your lashes fluttered and your mouth fell open as she pushed two fingers into you. Her jaw clenched and her other hand grabbed onto your hip for balance.
Your back arched against the mattress, cunt sucking her fingers in and clenching tightly as if trying to prevent them from leaving. Your head was spinning and Sam was the only thing that kept you grounded. She tethered you to the earth with the hand on your hip and sent you spiraling off of it with each move of the other. Groans spilled from your throat like blood; the sound pooling around you and encouraging her fingers to move faster.
Each and every cell in your body was devoted to the woman before you. She knew you like the back of her hand. She knew how to make you fold, how to make you laugh, how to make you cry, and how to make you cum like no one else ever had. In turn, you knew how to satisfy her need to possess you.
Her bicep tensed with each thrust, fingers moving in a rhythm she’d mastered a long time ago. “You’re the only one who can fuck me like this.” You panted, forcing your eyes to stay open so you could watch her own you.
“Yeah?” her hand pounded into you with more force. “Talk to me. Tell me every little thought in that head of yours.”
Sam wasn’t there anymore. She didn’t have the calm and loving look on her face you’d grown accustomed to. No, this was a different person. Her eyes were wide and wandering, teeth bared and veins poking out from her hands and forearms as blood pumped through her body.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” You told her. Her hand moved off of your hip and rubbed at your neglected clit, making it hard for you to focus on your words. “So fucking raw-”
“-I want you to say you love me when you cum.” She grunted out as soon as she felt your walls start to squeeze her tighter. Sweat dampened her forehead, hair sticking to it and making her look even more disheveled.
The orgasm was building and building. Every muscle in your body was taught with the sheer force of its impending arrival. All of your senses were on fire. You could feel her everywhere, in your mind and under your skin, fingers pressing into you just right; puzzle pieces sliding into place. The smell of sex filtered through your nostrils, the sounds of her fucking you flowing through your ears. The thing that overwhelmed you the most was the way she was looking at you like you completed her.
“Fuck- fuck,” you moaned as your hands grasped the sheets beneath you.
“Come on, baby. Say it.”
“I love you, I love you-” you were cut off by the mind numbing sensation that overtook you. Your orgasm crashed over you at five hundred miles per hour, stripping your head of all thoughts.
Sam watched as you arched off the bed, slowing her thrusts as you shuddered and tensed and shook like a leaf.
“There you go,” she smiled down at you. “You’re doing so good. Ride it out.”
You were beneath her, neck strained and still moaning incoherently. For at least a minute you stayed that way. She’d pulled out of you and began massaging your shaking thighs while she waited patiently for you to come down.
When you finally did, the first words she said were, “I bet you’re glad you didn’t go to that party.”
#sam carpenter#samantha carpenter x reader#screamxi#scream#melissa barrera#wlw#lesbian#ghostface#gxg
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More thoughts on Derision (Spoilers, obviously)
I think it's amusing that the default counter-argument to anyone who criticizes this episode boils down to "Well, you're just a Chloe Stan!" Which is something I had to deal with myself recently. Apparently, you can only hate this episode if you're a Chloe apologist. First off, hi, I'm Eddo. I wrote a fanfic where Chloe literally gets thrown into the dirt and suffer an allergic reaction to cacti, both times being her own fault. I feel like my Chloe Stan license should be revoked after that.
Anyways, I'm not surprised with the direction they went with Chloe in Derision. It's been stated since around Season 4 that Chloe was on a "Damnation Arc", so they've been doing everything they can to make her worse and worse. So, I'm not surprised or even angry that they continued this here. I'm annoyed, but not angry. What I AM angry about would be the other characters who got mangled in this shitshow.
Writers? Could you please stop having Chat threaten people with Cataclysm after he's shown regret doing it to people by accident TWICE?! This has happened three times now, counting what happened with Scarabella. Yes, I know he did this before with Darker Owl, but that just makes it worse because that happened right AFTER he regretted doing this to Monarch. You know, the guy who's been tormenting and attacking everyone for over a year? I guess to Chat, Damocles and Kim deserve it more for ripping away a fantasy and pulling a shitty prank respectively.
I know I complained about this a lot already, but this needs to be stressed upon. If we're going to take Cataclysm seriously, especially with what later episodes showed us, maybe DON'T have your hero threaten people with it for relatively petty reasons? "BUT IT'S FOR TRUE LOVE!!!1!!" Yeah, no. When he tried to do it on Darker Owl, Ladybug told him to cut that crap. It then happened again with Dark Humor with Ladybug telling him not to do it. It doesn't matter if it's for "true love." Both times he did this so far, Ladybug made it clear that this was a bad idea. So, maybe you guys should stop trying to encourage it. I refuse to believe that Chat believes that Monarch is more deserving to live after everything that he did than Kim after what he did. Speaking of Kim...
My friendly neighborhood dumb jock, why would the writers do this to you? When we only had the leaks to go by, I actually tried to scour for any interactions Kim had with Marinette and I can confirm that with the revelations we got in Derision, they REALLY don't make sense. Yes, Kim was a bit of a douche in the first season. Origins had him push Ivan around to the point of being the trigger for the Akuma. But he wasn't THIS much of a douchenozzle. Moreover, I have a hard time believing Marinette would be as friendly as she is with Kim throughout the series given what he did to her as revealed in this episode. Also, I know this is going to sound offensive, but...Kim was Marinette's first crush? Really? That's what you're going with? I'm not trying to insult Kim, but there was NOTHING that hinted to this. I can't help but think this was the thought process of the writers when they brought this up:
"So, we need to have Chloe do something to Marinette that would explain why Marinette struggles to be with Adrien. It has to be something big and traumatic. More importantly, it has to involve Marinette actually having a past crush that Chloe ruined and it has to be a character we're familiar with, so we can't make up an OC for it. We can't use Nino because he had a crush on her and it wouldn't make sense for her to reciprocate. We can't use Nathaniel because his crush went almost completely unnoticed by Marinette and he's also gay now. We can't use Ivan because he likes Mylene and we can't complicate that. We can't use Max because most people think he's ace and subverting that would piss a ton of people off. Oh, and we can't have it be any of the girls either because our show would get cancelled if Marinette isn't straight. So, let's just make it this guy."
"This. Fucking. Guy."
I'm having a hard time thinking of any other reason. I know some people theorized in the past that Kim and Marinette might've had a thing, but I don't think they held any water. Even now, however, I really don't think people should be happy it was canonized in this way.
I always held the belief that Chloe was responsible for Marinette's behavior, but my idea of it was that Chloe had been bullying Marinette for a long time and those years of sustained bullying took its toll on the poor baker girl that made it difficult for her to not only open her heart to people she loves, but have difficulties making friends in general until Alya came along. Yeah, Chloe doesn't look good in this case either, but it would've been more reasonable and would probably resonate with a lot more people who probably had to deal with bullies messing with them for a long time because these effects usually aren't instant. They get built on for a long time and it can really mess up their perception on things.
I think a good story would've been Marinette having to heal from that sustained trauma and while it is difficult since nobody can just quickly heal from trauma, it'd be a good journey for Marinette to be able to open up again with Alya and Adrien being just the first two pieces Marinette needs for her recovery.
But now, instead of all that, it turns out Chloe just pulled a prank that just unleashed a cavalcade of trauma on Marinette all at once that is hyper-specific to how she handles her crush that Adrien and ONLY Adrien can heal. All the while, it turns out that the prank was actually pulled by a guy who I really thought was just kinda fun and cool, but now I can't talk about him in the same way again because he's been thrown under the bus for the sake of this nonsense plot that's difficult not to call a full-on retcon. Do you know what I can call a retcon, though? Or rather who?
I am sorry to all of the people who are probably stanning Socqueline right now, but I CAN'T vibe with her. I'm not saying you're not allowed to like her either, because that would be dumb, but I DON'T like how she was presented in Derision. First off, to get this out of the way, we're no strangers to characters being introduced out of nowhere. Felix and Zoe are both characters that come to mind. The thing is you can at least explain their respective absences easily. Felix had likely been distant from Adrien for a long time with him only coming in out of obligation with Amelie. Zoe is actually even more easy to explain given that she was shoved into a boarding school by Audrey and wouldn't really be able to connect with any of the characters until she was forced to transfer. Socqueline, however, does not have that luxury and cannot be easily explained away not only with how we found her, but for the fact that there was NO hint to her existing until Season 5 and that is inexcusable given how much importance this character now has. To put it in perspective, this is how we are introduced to Socqueline in Jubilation:
Marinette: That fake Ladybug from this morning, I think it was Socqueline, a school friend from last year. Knowing her, I’m sure she means well. But I have to convince her to stop putting herself in danger like that.
That's it. She just calls her a school friend. Yes, it's clear that she's at least important enough for Marinette to remember her name, she was just called a school friend. At the very least, she did have an interesting story with her trying to be Ladybug in order to help people. Of course, she had to be talked out of it because it's causing issues with the real Ladybug, but it's a decent story and Socqueline had only made a few appearances here and there.
And then Derision.
Yes, Socqueline referred to Chloe as "that monster", so it's clear that they planned her to have something against Chloe since her first appearance. However, Derision showed us that Socqueline wasn't just a school friend. She was Marinette's closest confidant in the school years prior to the start of the series. She actively protects Marinette from bullies, particularly Chloe, and was clearly a huge inspiration for her until Chloe got her suspended from school.
First off, in case I haven't made it clear, we haven't seen Socqueline AT ALL until Season 5. Not even a hint to her existence. So given how significant she was made out to be in Derision, WHY HASN'T SHE MADE ANY APPEARANCES IN THE SERIES BEFOREHAND?! She doesn't even have the excuse of being outside of Paris like Felix and Zoe do because she's STILL there and in an arts and crafts store no less, which probably would've been a great place for Marinette to hang out in with her friends if the writers thought this through. But they didn't and Socqueline's debut comes off as severely jarring because we have this character who was really important to Marinette's life just not show up until she started cosplaying as Ladybug.
Secondly, it muddles Marinette's own backstory as well as severely hampering the significance of Alya. Now instead of being alone with nobody to help her against Chloe, which makes her friendship with Alya all the more stronger, Marinette just had this super cool friend who was always there for her until mean ol' Chloe got her kicked out of school. Doesn't that sound like something you'd see in a fanfic, specifically one that's salting Alya given how Socqueline was depicted as Marinette's BFF?
Thirdly, if Chloe was able to get Socqueline suspended so easily, then why hadn't she been able to do that with the other students? Yeah, she got close with Alya, but that didn't stick. If Chloe really had the ability to just make students disappear even if it happened once, she would NOT hesitate to try and do this again with any other student who slighted her, ESPECIALLY Marinette. But she doesn't. Once her attempt on Alya failed, she didn't try again. Hell, LILA had more attempts to get Marinette kicked out of school than Chloe did and actually got closer to doing it than Chloe would ever get, which is weird since she doesn't have the title of "Mayor's Daughter" to throw around like Chloe would. This just feels like something done to explain away why Socqueline didn't show up in the series which doesn't work because she's STILL IN PARIS and I'm pretty sure Marinette would be more than happy to meet with Socqueline given how close they were, but that never happened.
Fourthly, I'm guessing nobody felt like pointing it out because it felt too obvious, but doesn't Socqueline just come off as the writer's answer to Bridgette? You know, the older Marinette based on the anime PV that some fan writers implement into their own stories? Yeah, she's not one-to-one similar to Marinette like Bridgette is, but it definitely feels like another instance of the writers pulling stuff out of fanon just to put a canon spin on it. And like all the other instances, it's a bad spin.
Lastly, this whole incident with the prank and Socqueline's suspension took place a few months before Origins. Not even a year at the earliest. It was specifically stated that Socqueline was suspended three weeks before the end of the school year. Given how close that time gap, the way everyone behaves in Origins makes almost no sense. Marinette would be a lot more horrified of Chloe if Derision was anything to go by and Chloe would be more willing to try and cast Alya out so Marinette doesn't have any allies given that Derision showed Chloe REALLY wanting to make sure nobody helps Marinette. The only point I could even give any leeway to is Kim and even then, again, he's not that much of a douche in Origins as he was in Derision. So, really, it all just comes off as a blatant retcon specifically to try and explain the new direction the writers are taking with certain characters. And do you want to know the dumbest thing? Apparently, Socqueline was such an inspiration to Marinette that the latter changed her hair to be more like Socqueline's.
No, seriously. That's also how they explain why Marinette has different hairstyles. I know Expository Hairstyle Changes are a thing in fiction, but this is just awkward as hell given how traumatic and melodramatic the whole thing is. You don't need to say that Marinette's hairstyle came from someone who she considered a hero because nothing about Marinette indicated that her hairstyle is important. This isn't like Josuke changing his hairstyle to be based on the man who saved him as a child. It's a purely cosmetic change that's suddenly given a shit-ton of significance because now it's connected to this horribly traumatic incident. In fact, you know what this reminds me of?
Actually, the whole segment where this Linkara clip came from seems to sum up a lot of things wrong with Derision. It's not just bad because it makes some characters look bad or introduces stuff out of nowhere. It's bad because now everything in the flashback is now part of all of the characters! Every prior episode will now have to be viewed with a lens tinted by the events of this episode. Now nobody can discuss Kim without people salting on him for the prank, now nobody can talk about how important Alya's friendship with Marinette because of Socqueline's sudden boost in significance (In fact, it's very likely that Alya salters will try to use Socqueline as a replacement friend), and now nobody can speculate the intrigue of Marinette's past because EVERYTHING about her behavior is linked to this specific incident and nothing else. That's what pisses me off about this episode. That's why I share that Double D meme so frequently. I could care less about how much of a monster Chloe was depicted to be in this episode, but I am going to complain when other characters are butchered in the process. I will complain about one thing concerning her, though.
Isn't it amazing that you can tell the writers are trying DESPERATELY to squish any and all positive interpretations of Chloe, even trying to downplay parental neglect because "this character also didn't have a mom and they didn't turn out this way" even though Mylene's and Chloe's situations are still VASTLY different? You can make the argument that Audrey's absence doesn't excuse Chloe's actions. In fact, I don't think it really does either, but saying that there's only one valid response to an absent parent is EXTREMELY insensitive to people who might be going through similar situations.
Oh, and to cap this all off? This is the favorite episode of one of the main writers. Said writer possibly being considered to be the new director for Season 6 of Miraculous and onwards. I'm not gonna name which one for obvious reasons, but it's been confirmed.
I feel like this is a good indication that you need to hop off this series.
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#mlb#mlb spoilers#ml spoilers#ml season 5 spoilers#ml s5 spoilers#ml derision#miraculous derision#derision#mlb derision#derision spoilers#derision salt#ml fandom salt#ml writers salt#ml fandom critical#marinette dupain cheng#mlb marinette#le chien kim#miraculous kim#king monkey#mlb adrien#adrien agreste#chat noir#chloe bourgeois#queen bee#mlb chloe#ml chloe#socqueline wang#mlb socqueline
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King of the (bouncy) Castle
It's @taznovembercelebration day 17 and today I drew the prompt "soft"
Read below or on Ao3 if you prefer. Missed yesterday's? Find it here.
-
“Ko!” Lup yells from the hall.
“What?” He screams from his bedroom, because he’s still deciding on what to wear and if it’s that urgent she can come in.
“Do you know anyone else?”
“In general? Or?”
“Don’t be a dick. Do you know anyone who can come today?”
“Why?”
“Magnus had to drop out.”
“We can win without him.”
“A team is four people.”
“Ask Dav.”
“He’s racing today”
“Lucretia?”
“She just laughed until I hung up. It was a solid 3 minutes.”
“Merle?”
“I’m going to need you to work from the assumption that I have remembered our joint friends with whom we spend all our time”
“But seriously, Merle.”
“Taako, I have tried everyone we jointly know. He said he was going to be busy in the greenhouse, and then he said some other things. Would you like me to tell you what those other things are? Because I can. I can tell you exactly what he had planned for the onions because he told me because I had him on speaker phone and I got trapped in my shirt and he said a lot of words before I could hang up. They’re burned into my brain forever and cha’girl is happy to share that burden.”
“No! Lulu, don’t! I’ll cast silence.”
“I’ll counterspell it. Now start thinking of people.”
“Angus?”
“I also know Angus, and he’s a literal child.”
“He’s, what, 6 now?”
“He’s eleven, Taako, you baked him a cake in the shape of the number for his birthday two weeks ago.” There’s no need for Lup to slander him like this.
“Eleven! That’s basically an adult for humans, right?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you going to stop doing special magic boy lessons with him because he’s all grown up now?” Lup goes for the jugular. He doesn’t have to stand for this cruelty, for the implication that he actually likes spending time with the baby.
“What aboutttt… erm…” Taako changes the topic seamlessly and casts his mind furiously about for a name, any name, of a person Lup wouldn’t have already called. There’s one that popped up as soon as Lup asked and he’s trying his best to see round it but it keeps sidling into his eye line. He can’t though. It’d be a disaster. “Errrrr… Brian.”
“No. Absolutely anyone else.”
“What’s wrong with Brian?”
“He’s in a cult!”
“But apart from the cult stuff he’s lovely.”
“Taako! Do you want to win or not?”
Fine. Fine! Taako does very much want to win, especially after Lydia tripped him last year.
“Kravitz.” He says it fast, like he’s ripping off a plaster. Maybe Lup won’t put two and two together.
“The guy from work?”
“No?”
“Oh, you know another Kravitz, do you?”
“Yes?”
“Is any of that supposed to have convinced me?”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“So… different Kravitz? How do you know Kravitz-Who’s-Not-From-Work? Why do you have a way of getting in touch with him?” Lup’s going to cling to this an unnecessary amount.
“Ooooh are we talking about Kravitz?” Barry, fucking Barry, asks. Wandering his ass right into their private conversation.
“This is a private conversation, Barold.” Yells Taako through the door of his room into the hall of their too-small shared apartment.
“Would you like me to put my noise cancelling headphones on?” Barry asks, earnestly, like he’d actually fucking do it if Taako said yes.
“Absolutely not, Barry, You live in this house and you have every right to be in this hallway.” Lup snaps. She’s still mad about last time Taako forgot to tell Barry he could take the headphones off. In his defence, he made him a cake about it. A jake, in fact, with edible press studs. Barry loved it! Plus, he was listening to one of his lectures, he was fine, happy as a clam!
“Fine.” Taako threw up his hands, no one could see him, but it felt important to do it anyway, you know, for the drama. He couldn’t argue with this, he didn’t have a choice, he may as well give in and call Kravitz, they’ve both worked together to twist his arm. “You’re making me do this though. It’s not because I want to. I’ve been compelled.”
“What?” Says Barry, perplexed. “I thought we were just talking about your crush.”
“His what?” Says Lup.
Taako springs forward and manages to flick the lock across the second before Lup tries the handle.
“You’re in love with death?” She tries the handle a few more times, as if it’ll jiggle the lock free.
“A man isn’t his job, Lup.” Taako shouts back. Denying everything.
“That wasn’t a no!”
“I have to ring him, because you’re making me. Or do you not want to win Bounce Off 2: Bounce in the City?”
There’s grumbling from the other side of the door followed by a muttered “c’mon Barold,” fakeout. Taako’s wise to it though, so he isn’t shocked by her ‘one last try’ of the door handle, or the second attempt that follows after she does fake footsteps away from the door.
“Fine! He’d better be down though and good.”
“He’s tall.” Says Barry, conversationally. He’d better not plan on telling Lup anything else.
“Good. We can use height.Is he strong?” Lup asks.
Kravitz is strong, Taako knows that for normal reasons, reasons like he can carry a lot of pastries when he orders them; and that time he helped Taako move the big table when someone spilled and he had to clean under it. Not reasons like all the time he spends staring at Kravitz’s forearms, and his thighs, and his everything else. Because he doesn’t do that. Taako would never.
“Fine. Don’t answer me.” Lup actually leaves this time, Taako pretends he can’t hear Barry telling her about Kravitz and his newfound love of coffee and baked goods.
Taako [10:23]
Yo stud got a minute to chat?
It was only polite to text first, he doesn’t want to jumpscare Kravitz with a phone call, he isn’t a sadist. The three dots flashed up immediately. Thank fuck he’s awake at the crack of dawn.
Bones [10:24]
Dear Taako,
Of course, I’ve always got time for you.
All best,
Kravitz.
Taako has been trying hard not to find his ridiculous dork texts endearing. He’s failing. Badly. He ignores the squooshy feeling it gives him and hits the call button instead.
“Hello Taako, it’s lovely to hear from you!” Says Kravitz like he actually means it.
“Hey Krav, quiiiiiick q for ya. What’re you doing this morning?”
“I’m just practising.” Of course he is. Why wouldn’t Kravitz be sat straddling his giant instrument right now? Taako’s mature though, he won’t make a joke about it.
“Can’t keep your hands off your instrument, shameful!” Fuck.
“Well, someone has to keep it in tune.”
Gods, he wasn’t supposed to play along. Why did he keep flirting back? Was this whole thing actually plausible?
“Wanna spend some time with Taako instead?”
“I’d be very interested in that.” Kravitz says, buttery and glorious.
“How do you feel about inflatables?”
There’s a long pause.
“It’s not a sex thing.” Taako says, to make it less weird.
“I’m not sure that makes what you said less weird, Taako.”
“You know, like bouncy castles.”
“Okay.” Kravitz doesn’t sound particularly convinced.
“And my sister will be there.”
There’s another pause. “...And Barry?”
“Obviously.”
“Uh huh.”
Fuck, Taako’s losing him, and it’s suddenly incredibly important that Kravitz not only agree to this, but is also enthusiastic about it. “It’s a competition.” Says Taako.
“Oh?” Of course that piqued his interest, Kravitz loves competition. He tries to help harder than any other customer, tip better than anyone else, and he races people in the street.
“We lost last year, but we’ve been in training.”
“You’ve been in bouncy castle training?”
“Obstacle course training… and also trampolines.”
“Is that what the weird squeaking is when we’re on the phone sometimes?”
“What?”
“You know, the calls where you’re all breathy and there’s the squeaking noise.”
Taako didn’t realise Kravitz had picked up on that. “You didn’t think…?”
“Well now I know it’s not a sex thing.”
“You thought it was a sex thing and you stayed on the phone?”
“I don’t judge.”
“You didn’t wanna ask Taako what he was up to?”
“I know you’re a private person.”
“Not if you think Taako’s doing sex things on the phone without your consent. In fact, that’s the least private a person can be.”
“You make a compelling point.”
Taako doesn’t even begin to know what to do with that. “So… bouncing?”
“Where is it?”
“We can pick you up.”
“All three of you?”
“Barry said he’s sorry and he’ll stop asking about the ‘secret sauce.’”
“I just really don’t think it’s a respectful way to talk about embalming fluid.”
Taako thinks it’s a great way to refer to embalming fluid, but he also wants Kravitz to be happy. “He double pinky promised.”
“Oh, well if he double pinky promised.”
“Great! Pick you up in 20, wear something snazzy.”
Taako hangs up the phone before Kravitz can object or ask anything else. He has limited time and an outfit to re-plan.
#taznc#taz november celebration#Taakitz#Background Blupjeans#Taako#Kravitz#Lup#Barry Bluejeans#TAZ Balance#TAZ Spoilers#TAZ fic#Noodyl Writes#Mild references to sex#Are these getting more unhinged? No. We've been like this from the start
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(wait for the season to come back to me tag)
Eddie doesn’t want to tell the kids yet. Steve kind of understands, but he also knows Dustin’s never going to forgive him for holding out like this. He cancels his biweekly lunch with Dustin twice before sitting Eddie down and saying, “We gotta tell him something.”
“Fuck off,” says Eddie.
“He’s twenty-five years old. He can handle it.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What the hell are you worried about, then?” Steve snaps. “I can’t keep lying to him, man! It’s not fucking fair! Just because you—”
“Steve,” says Robin. “Come on. Cool your jets, hotshot.”
Steve realizes he’s been kind of yelling, then. He also realizes that he’s standing over Eddie, who’s folded into a defensive crouch, and Eddie’s nails are in serious danger of ripping the couch cushions open. Eddie doesn’t look scared, exactly, but his face has gone inhumanly still and blank. It’d probably be worrying if there was any space in Steve for worry.
The anger’s still roaring full-tilt through Steve, though. He gets like this sometimes for no goddamn reason at all, and he knows it’ll pass in a minute, but right now the urge to break something is so, so strong.
“Fuck,” he snarls, and wheels around, storming into the kitchen.
He runs the tap just so there’s some noise as he tries to get his shit under control. Robin comes in after a little while.
“I’m—going to the gym,” Steve says, still gripping the sink hard.
“Okay,” says Robin. “Be safe.”
———
When he comes back, Eddie’s not in the living room.
“I told him he could hang out in my room for a while,” Robin says, before Steve can work himself up into a panic. “I think it would be good for him to have, like…his own private space. Not—I’m not talking about kicking him out, obviously. But maybe we could figure out a partition or something in the living room?”
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” says Steve. “God. I’m so sorry. He knows I’m sorry, right?”
Robin flicks him on the forehead. “Yeah, he gets it, dingus. I think he called you an ambulatory fountain of penitence once. Like, a perpetual apology machine.”
“Sure,” says Steve. “Got a lot to apologize for.”
“Nope, we’re not doing that,” says Robin, patting him gingerly on the shoulder. “I’d hug you but you’re all gross and sweaty. Go shower, you’ll feel like a person again.”
He does feel like a person again after a shower, but the Dustin question still hasn’t been figured out. He tries to bring it up again after a few days.
“I wouldn’t even have told you guys I was back if you hadn’t kidnapped me,” says Eddie, picking at his dinner. Vegan stuff is usually okay, weirdly enough, so Steve’s been learning to cook with tofu. He’s not sure if Eddie actually gets anything out of it on a nutritional level; he hasn’t asked.
“Yeah, I know,” says Steve. He’s trying pretty hard not to get mad again. It keeps him up sometimes, thinking about how easily Eddie could’ve wandered into a different bar that night. He hopes that they would’ve crossed paths sometime anyway, being in the same city and all, but maybe not. He just doesn’t know.
“So you get it, right?” says Eddie. “Why I don’t want to put that on the kids. They’ve all, like…processed it and everything. They’ve moved on, just like you did before I came back and fucked up your life again. And you didn’t even really know me.”
It’s not like he’s saying it in a mean way, but it’s deliberate. He’s watching Steve carefully to see how it lands. Steve takes a deep breath; he can do this right, this time.
“Eddie,” he says. “You know I’m glad you’re back, right? You’re not fucking up my life, I’m happy you’re here.”
“You seem a little stressed for a guy who’s supposed to be happy.” Eddie leans back and smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Just seems sometimes like maybe it would’ve been better for you if I’d stayed, like, a story from your past.”
“No,” says Steve. “No. No. Never. It—might’ve been less complicated, maybe. But not better.”
Eddie looks down at his plate, silently fiddling with the golden-brown chunks of fried soy protein, and Steve realizes it might not just be about how the kids will react.
“Hey. You know it’s going to be fine, right? Dustin loves you. He wants you in his life, whatever that means, and you know he’s not gonna do anything to make you uncomfortable. Plus, he lives like one town away and has his own car, so if I keep putting him off like this he’s just gonna show up here one day and then we’ll really be screwed.”
It’s kind of a joke but it’s also really, really true. Eddie laughs, some of the tension finally dropping out of his shoulders, and says: “Okay. You’ve worn me down, Harrington. Alert the brat pack.”
#steddie#fic: wait for the season to come back to me#bel biv devoe voice: that boy has tra-u-ma#still struggling quite a bit with this story but here's SOMETHING ig#I also realized that both of my current active wips are vaguely angsty mid-90s Steve-POV stories set in Chicago#so like...damn. might need to write that Eddie-befriends-Robin-prior-to-Scoops fic I've been thinking about for a change of pace.#I just haven't written high schoolers in SO LONG idk!
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Recent Austen adaptations yelling
Ok I DID make this blog to review historical-set Pride & Prejudice adaptations (with an exception made for iconic B&P). But for everyone who was DEFINITELY WONDERING, yes I have also been storing away a lot of opinions about other recent Austen adaptations that I Must Tell Someone.
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Fire island (2022)
A modern gay party cheesy rom-com P&P that genuinely made me laugh. Having seen some other (whiter) cheesy gay romcoms that were extreeeemely PG & playing it safe, I was pleasantly surprised.
Also Bowen Yang and his story just came across really earnest in a way I was into - would watch this man cry again, 10/10.
Personally as an extremely disabled british nerd (now tragically unable to travel and/or go to the club...) this gay scene is a long way from my queer scene. But I still had emotions, you know?
Kinda wanted more of the Mary analogue and generally just normal looking people (almost everyone is so ripped) but I appreciate that's how beautiful smooth people often look in mainstream american films, we can't have everything.
DARCY WATCH: I do not want to dress like this adaptation's chinos Mr Darcy. But Conrad Ricamora was generally great and very hot and awkward and understood the assignment. Good ice cream throw.
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Emma (2020)
I know I know, it's pretty... but I don't think that's enough!!!!!
Lovely production, beautiful costumes, a candy wes-anderson cinematography that really suits the story, and it's fun to notice references to actual outfits and prints from the time but lads. LADS. UNPOPULAR OPINION TIME: Where is the chemistry???
You can’t make Mr Knightley a nice sweet boy (so funny to have cast a posh folksy singing man) and leave the plot the same and expect it to work!! Also I was personally pissed off that a lot of the promo/ ads for this made it look like ~forbidden love~ when it's the 2 richest white people in town getting together?? ? There's actually not even a class difference in this one, guys.
Basically this romance was nothing to me!!! I felt nothing!!!!!!!! WHERE'S THE DEPTH
I did like the bit where he lies down though. Relatable.
Also why are you drawing so much attention to the servants when you don’t seem to have anything to say about class...? 'Wow look how many servants they had! Anyway, they don't get any speaking lines'... it's 2020 guys!!! like what are we saying here. 'isn't it cool to think about how people were rich'??
kind of the point of Emma (character) is she's pretty superficial, but the story does not, in fact, have to be
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Persuasion (2022)
Weeping softly into a pillow........ did you know this version meant a version with Sarah Snook and Joel Fry got cancelled?? we could have had it all
(standing on a table yelling) THE MODERNISATION WAS NOT THE PROBLEM WITH THIS FILM!!!
Honestly I actively liked all the entire secondary cast in this. Louisa and Mary were extremely charming fun takes to watch. ('I'm an empath' IS right for the character if you're doing modern jokes!!!) And nobody can deny this was a correct and powerful use of Richard E Grant.
Henry Golding was naturally great. Apparently he got offered the lead and took the villain instead, which DOES mean the villain is super charming and fun to watch which is... hard to match and.... kind of shows up.... the main man.
It's been said before but the main two were WOEFUL imo. I have no beef with the actors I just question the DIRECTION and whether anyone making this knew (or cared) why people... enjoy things.
Book Anne is the quietest gentlest loser and I LOVE HER and so does basically every Austen nerd. Making her a quirky wine-bath girl who's honestly just cruel sometimes fully stops the main romance chemistry and plot from working.
And it means the main boy is still like 'god I'm so horny for how KIND AND CAPABLE YOU ARE' which is just 100% no longer true. You can't transplant a personality in a romance but leave the plot the exact same and expect it to work. The chemistry IS the plot in a romance..........
you can't act morally superior to your siblings and still rate people out of ten.... also so funny to me that everyone else gets period outfits and hair whereas this protagonist looks like she just glanced at a picture of any time in the past and grabbed a couple shirts from primark. it doen't even look good or build character!!!!!
Anyway, not to be an elderly man like 'ohhh why does nobody care about character these days' but the reason something like Clueless works is because it has the heart of the story right, instead of just copying the surface level stuff.
#making all of these a single post which probably means nobody will reblog it ever. OH WELL#emma 2020#persuasion 2022#fire island#austen adaptations#full disclosure yes I was midway through making a queer regency romance GN whose plot is partly based on emma and p&p when i saw 2020 emma#so YES.......... i have strong opinions... possibly UNPOPULAR ONES..........#anyway if you enjoy the things i'm complaining about more power to you. I'M TOO BORING tO ENJOY THEM UNFORTUNATELY
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soooo I need luckycharms!AU Bucky and Curt on vacation somewhere.. slutty. your choice. john wants to show his boy from the bronx the world. maybe rome? like in EYY but this time they get to truly experience and enjoy it without the fear of doom & war & death ?!!? ya kno
Ohhhh you know I love a good Italy trip lmaooo. Cattonquick in Liguria was my favorite thing to write. Now I get to write Bucky and Curt being sluts? I’m so lucky. Ripping the nude beach idea right out of my Cattonquick fic and putting a Curtbucky twist on it.
Andiamo!
This request got pregnant with this other one ⬆️ it felt right so we went with it!!
HONORABLE MENTION;
Don’t read if you aren’t down with these: More vibrating butt plug, nude beach filth, ‘daddy’ is used twice, spanking, very very very very light dom/sub vibes if you squint but hardly, Curt is a cunt, abundant use of pet names
All it took was a few planted magazines on the coffee table for Bucky to quickly realize where Curt had wanted to visit, and the places he absolutely did not.
“Paris would be so fun, don’tcha think?” His legs were stretched over Bucky’s thighs who had been intently eyeing the score of the Brewers versus the Reds, dramatically huffing and puffing as the score continued not to work out in his home teams favor.
“Yeah, baby.” Bucky nodded, acting as though he was hardly listening but he was instead taking permanent mental notes. Paris is added to the possible itinerary, as is Aspen, Madeira, Lagos and Porto.
Then came ramblings of Barcelona, ripe springtime strawberries held between Curt’s lips as he flipped through pages filled with beautiful images of Casa Batlló, La Sagrada Famila, and the Picasso museum. “Look.” He turned the magazine around, pointing to the water. “Look how blue the water is, Ducky. We ain’t ever gonna see that here, huh? Closest we got is Coney Island.” He chuckled, again oblivious to Bucky’s mental note taking, the itinerary growing longer and longer with each new travel magazine Bucky hid around the house.
“Why do you got all these, anyway?” Curt grabbed the latest addition, a travel guide of Italy. “You got like thirty of the things.”
“I get ‘em for free at the office.” Bucky lied, and felt bad about it. “Guess Harding never cancelled the subscription when he was cruise shopping. I snag ‘em before he can realize they were even delivered.”
Curt hummed and nodded his head, puffing at the joint between his lips, all sprawled out over the cushioned window bench like a sunbathing feline. “I’d do anything to go to Italy.” He whispered, and alarms went off in Bucky’s head.
Bingo, bing, bingo.
Ding, ding, ding!
“My Nonna tells me stories about growin’ up in Bologna.” He hung upside down, the magazine held over his face as he multitasked like never before. A couple puffs, a flick of the page, ashing his joint, running his gorgeous mouth. “Oh, look!” He scrambled to his knees and sat upright again to turn the magazine around like it was his turn for show and tell. “Pompeii!” He flipped the page, his excitement growing. “Look! Tits! Dicks! Ass!” He pointed to all of it, the page covering the top rated nude beach in the country, Guvano.
And so, when Curt went back to his campus dorm room for a few days to hunker down and study for finals before summer break, Bucky did his own studying on hotels, which quickly had been switched to villas, vineyards, tours, beaches, restaurants, you fucking name it.
He had eventually enlisted the help of a concierge, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. He didn’t speak Italian and he wanted to know what was really worth seeing, according to the locals.
Come Friday evening, Curt looked and felt like he’d been beaten with two cinder blocks, trudging into Bucky’s stretch of hallway once he stepped inside.
He barely had any energy left to announce his arrival, quiet footsteps wandering into the kitchen where Bucky stood with his hip jutted, his phone an inch away from his face and a wine glass in the other as he read closely each step of the recipe he’d chosen to make for dinner.
Cacio e Pepe and scottadito. Earlier, he prepped for the perfect Caesar salad, ready to eat since he knew Curt would be starved to death after his finals.
“Hey.” A voice squeaked after the source had snapped an incognito photo on his phone of that version of Bucky — quiet, contemplative, focused.
“Jesus.” Bucky dropped his phone onto the counter. “Baby, you gotta make some noise or somethin’. I’ll have a heart attack.”
Curt huffed a laugh through his nostrils and shuffled the floors toward him to wrap himself around Bucky, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the mans chest. “Oh,” Bucky cooed, rubbing circles into Curt’s back once he’d sat down the glass of wine he’d become rather familiar with in the last hour or so. “How’d it go?”
“My brain.” Curt groaned, pressing his face into Bucky’s chest. “It hurts.”
Curt, as Bucky had quickly realized, was a goddamn genius and he knew just how to work it. Never to speak out of turn, always raw and honest and never pretending to be something he isn’t, that thick New York accent poking through even the most intelligent sentences Bucky had ever heard in his life.
Listen to this, listen to this. Alright. Here we go.
Curt stood in front of Bucky, reading part of his final presentation project as practice with one of Bucky’s sweaters hanging to his mid thigh and another joint rolled with pink papers between his teeth.
The potential of shape memory alloys in morphin’ wing technology with adaptive geometries that adjust in real-time could greatly optimize performance across various flight conditions.
Curt took another puff, his eyes locked on Bucky instead of the paper in his hand. He’d memorized it all and knew it by heart. After all, it was a touchy subject he felt passionate about.
Furthermore, research shows that this could increase fuel efficiency, reduce emissions, and could have a hand in improvin’ maneuverability.
Bucky was speechless, his jaw slack, hearts spilling out of his eyes and onto the floor. He was no help really, because every goddamn thing Curtis did was absolute perfection.
“Feed it.” Bucky held Curt to his chest with one hand while the other grabbed a plate, built an excellent Caesar, and offered it in front of a barstool at the island in the middle of the kitchen where half of it was still occupied by Bucky’s iPad, his knives, his cutting board and all of his oils and seasonings.
“You’re a real homemaker, you know, Egan.” Curt reluctantly detached himself from Bucky and plopped into the stool, stabbing forkfuls of lettuce and shoving it in his mouth while Bucky poured him a glass of some orange-ish hipster rosé, because the red shit gave him headaches and made him feel sleepy.
Good taste, Bucky would say.
You’re a natural at spending money.
“Yeah?” Bucky leaned against the island, pressing sweet kisses to Curt’s face despite the way he was feverishly shoving salad into it. “You gonna have me all kept at home while you make the dough, hm?” he was teasing, but knew once Curt got his foot in the door at a job after graduation, he’d be making his own natural hipster wine budget.
Big time.
“You think I will?” Curt murmured through a full mouth, booping noses with Bucky who nodded.
“Obviously, baby. No other choice, I fear.” Bucky watched intently as Curt sipped his wine, giggled, blushed, rolled his eyes. “How you feelin’ about the final?”
“Dunno.” Curt shrugged, watching Bucky continue on his prep for dinner and dessert. “I did good on the presentation part. It’s the fuckin’ multiple choice that I get so fucked up on. I’m indecisive! The shit’s outdated — how long they been makin’ us poor brain dead fucks fill in some bubbles, ya know?” He gulped more wine from his glass, “Like, since the dawn of time, I bet. And ain’t that shitty? You’d think they would—“
A red envelope was plopped in front of him, sealed with wax.
“What’s this?”
Bucky shrugged, sipping his glass of wine nonchalantly. “Dunno. Found it. Think it might be yours.”
Curt gave him a look of confusion, shaded with hints of brattiness and sass.
Bucky could eat him up.
His fingers deftly peeled the envelope open, his eyes taking in the words that he could hardly comprehend. “Italy?” He whispered, his heart sinking to his gut. “You’re kiddin’, Bucky..”
“I was going to wait until we got your score back from the final. But I know you’ll pass and I just couldn’t wait.” Bucky braced himself for Curt’s suddenly energized squealing and jumping and screaming and hooting and kissing and licking and all of it.
So. There they were, beach Guvano, the very same one in the magazine Curt had brought with him to compare and contrast magazines versus real life — so far, not a single thing had disappointed him.
“How’s it look?” Bucky asked from beside Curt, sprawled out on their beach blanket as he shoved sweet grapes into his cheeks.
“Less people here than in the pictures.” Curt had stripped down, of course, as he typically found any reason at all not to wear clothes at any time, no matter the location. “But I like that. ‘Cause some of these people in here shouldn’t be seen with clothes on.”
Bucky swatted his thigh, a dumb grin tugging his lips. “Bad boy. Be nice.”
Curt smirked and rolled onto his belly and closer to Bucky who still wore his skimpy little black speedo that he purchased simply to fit in with the rest of the Europeans.
American swim trunks didn’t feel authentic.
“You gonna lemme see the rest of ya?” Curt pressed a kiss to Bucky’s unbelievably tan, warm, sweaty neck. “Or you gonna be a perv?”
Bucky shrugged, scrolling on his phone in his left hand, his right buried deep in Curtis’ loose brown sea-salty waves and occasionally grabbing more grapes to chomp on. “Do pervs keep their swimsuits on at nude beaches?”
“Yes, actually.” Curt nodded, wagging his little ass once a warm breeze had tickled over it, his favorite plug between his sunburnt cheeks — the one that he’d worn to dinner with Bucky and Gale not long ago.
And Bucky had already started playing with him.
“I think the real pervs have vibrating plugs in their asses. In public.” Bucky gave Curt a look of mock-surprise once he’d flicked the level up to two, meeting Curt’s look of real shock with one of pure theatrics.
His mouth agape, his brows furrowed, his chin quivering as he moaned.
“Goddamn it.”Curtis cursed.
“Feel good?” Bucky whispered, the shade from their umbrella almost hiding them from the rest of the beach where the closest visitor seemed about thirty yards down the shoreline, minding their own business with their tits out. “S’your favorite one, isn’t it?”
Curt nodded quickly, his gaze softening into little horny feline slits, thick black lashes practically fluttering over his own pink cheeks, the freckles over the bridge of his nose accentuated by hours spent outdoors sipping wine or cappuccinos and eating all the finest culinary in the city. “Mhm.. M’favorite. Yeah.” He spluttered, practically drooling already.
Bucky laid his phone on his chest, reaching forward to caress his sweet boys soft cheeks instead, gathering the moisture from Curt’s wet lips onto his thumb and licking it clean. “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” He fawned, admiring again a practically frozen Curtis who whimpered softly in response.
“C’mere, my baby.” He hooked a hand around Curt’s waist and pulled him closer, the top half of his body resting over Bucky’s chest while the bottom involuntarily rut against every warm gust of wind with his ass or the blanket atop the soft sand with his cock.
Curt’s lips had found Bucky’s fingers, sucking them like he would his cock, or Gale’s, whenever their schedules aligned these days. “I passed my exam.” He breathed, pulling away from the hand he held with both of his own, half the size of Bucky’s. “Gotta ninety.”
Although he was expecting a one hundred or more including the bonus questions that saved his ass, he was nowhere near unhappy with where his GPA stood going into his second year.
Bucky lit up, of course, kissing him like it could be their last. “I fucking knew it.” He whispered between kisses. “My fucking genius boy. God, you’re so fucking smart. It’s so sexy.”
Bucky would eat him if he could.
Carry him around just like that, wherever he went, there Curt would be.
“What can I say?” Curt grinned, lips drenched in shared saliva. “Somebody besides J.Lo has to make a name for the Bronx.”
Bucky snarled a laugh. “Christ,” he chased the moan that escaped Curtis into his own mouth to devour it. “Better graduate early, then.” He teased, his hand grabbed again and the fingers enveloped once more in the soft hallows of Curt’s cheeks that grew pinker by the minute.
He wiggled his ass again against the plug that was stuffing him, eventually moving to sit on his folded legs and rut against his own heel, Bucky’s gaze watching all the while beneath a pair of sunglasses with rather transparent brown lenses.
Curt loved to be watched.
He loved, so very much, to be the center of Bucky’s world.
He’d put on little shows for him, all sweaty and panting and begging for it. He’d become a mess, held together by prayer alone at the altar he worshipped so reverently - theirs — their love, their passion, their unbridled blazing hearts that had morphed together somewhere along the way, or perhaps in lifetimes before this one.
This love, the one that gushed so unabashedly, was the reason Bucky was able to stomach the sight of Gale between his baby’s legs, or the way Curt sucked on his fingers while Gale fucked all of his courtroom rage out of him, his pretty blue eyes in the back of his head.
Whatever they did with Gale was an extension of their love, yes, but it would never get between it.
Could never harm it.
Bucky caressed his parted thighs but didn’t dare to touch Curt’s cock that leaked sweet little milky white droplets down his smooth shaft, a sight to behold since so much was typically impossible without a belly full of Bucky’s cum. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. Getting yourself all messy.” He whispered.
Curt was aroused beyond reason — every one of his milder kinks (amongst many others that wouldn’t be appropriate beneath the blue sky) were being fulfilled. Bucky’s eyes on him, sweet little words muttered in praise and adoration.
The sun on his shoulders, the sea breeze sending shivers down his spine.
His bent legs spread wider until he was sat between them, his ass plopped onto the beach blanket which he ground himself into. “Look’it what you done to me, daddy.” His voice was low and rasped through breathy gasps and moans, “I want your big cock in me so bad.” He chomped his teeth at Bucky, proving to be all bark and no bite.
Bucky hummed, ignoring the rumble of thunder that hung above their heads, and his cock that stiffened so much his Speedo struggled to conceal it. “Not here, honey.” He adjusted his sunglasses to sit perfectly nestled in his brown curls, his usually loose waves tightened and accentuated from the saltwater still in it from that morning. “Laws still exist in Italy, you know. I looked it up.” He had no reason to study European law, but for this, he did a little research.
“But —“ Curt whined, his palms flat against his thighs as he rode the plug like he would Bucky, feeling the intensity of the vibrations kick up a notch when Bucky flicked a little green bug off his phone screen, the notch set to its maximum which they’d never done before. Especially not after sitting on a three for so long.
Curt hardly knew what to do with himself, the fire in his loins growing and growing, just like the storm cloud that hung above their heads. “Too much — I can’t —“ he panted, scrambling to reach between his legs and get rid of it but Bucky abruptly stopped him.
“Ah, ah.” Bucky tsked, “Don’t you dare.” He pressed gentle kisses over Curt’s knuckles that held onto him like a lifeline, tight white and shaking.
“Please,” Curt whined, looking between his legs and down at his own cock that had yet to reach its climax but continued to trickle with a steady stream of excitement and arousal, toes curling as he squealed.
“You gonna come?” Bucky sat up, then. He thought maybe he was going to witness history — Curtis Biddick making himself come without being pumped full of it first. “Oh, honey. You’re so close. I can see it. Fucking look at you.” Scrunched nose, back arched, nails digging into his own thighs. “Make a mess, baby. I’ll clean you up.”
Curt huffed and puffed, their umbrella swaying in the wind and a drizzle of rain peppering his warm shoulders. “I’m g’na come.” He said through rapid huffs of breath.
“Give it to daddy, baby. C’mon.” Bucky was doing that sexy little thing he’d do. He’d pout his lips and mutter filthy encouragement through a clenched jaw. He grabbed Curt’s cheeks and severed their gaze, instead redirecting his attention down to his own cock. “Watch with me.”
Curt was wailing, watching his body react instinctively to everything happening to it but the closer he crept, the lighter he felt the vibrations becoming until they were gone completely.
And then came the torrential downpour.
“What happened?” Bucky asked once Curt began cursing, pulling his hands away from their restrictions in Bucky’s grasp to pump himself but there was hardly any hope in it.
“It fucking died!” Curt was angry.
He pulled the thing out of him and tossed it harshly into their beach bag, pulling on his so very American swim trunks and his Blink-182 tshirt. “Fucking bullshit goddamn technology, Bucky! I could make a better fucking goddamn fucking thing than that — fuck!” Curt was still panting but every other sensation he felt only a moment ago had been so abruptly ripped away from him.
“Well do it, then.” Bucky grumbled, sitting up and gathering their things as the storm raged on and Curtis stood with his arms folded, clearly pouting and being no help at all. “If you’re so fucking disappointed. It’s your job to charge it, Curt. It’s going in your ass, after all.”
Bucky rummaged for the keys to their rental car, soaked by the rain but still looking so rideable despite Curt’s suddenly horrendous attitude. “But you’re the one that fucks the battery!” He waved his arms, “With your fucking bullshit!”
Curt was left there, standing in the rain while Bucky made a beeline for their big Audi SUV that was similar in size to Bucky’s Range Rover, but he’d made several comments about maybe thinking about switching to something a bit more like this back home. “If you’re going to drain the battery, I’m just fuckin’ sayin’ you should also be held accountable for chargin’ it, too.” His voice followed behind, catching up eventually.
Bucky had opened the passenger door for Curt to get in before he even made it back over to the car, hoping he’d curl up for a nap and fall asleep before Bucky was done loading up the car again.
He couldn’t be so lucky.
“You still runnin’ your mouth?” Bucky furrowed his brows, shaking sand out of their beach blanket before folding it neatly.
“Yes!” Curt whined, wanting to fucking cry. Bucky wasn’t hearing him — he wasn’t understanding. He was so, so fucking close. He felt the butterflies wake up in his belly, his heart hammered in his chest, his legs felt like they’d turned to goo.
And then nothing.
“You aren’t listenin’ to me!”
Bucky closed the trunk before he sauntered to Curt, his neck craned downward to look at him. “Bend over.” He pointed to the passenger seat, voice stern but steady.
Sharp, but buttery smooth around the edges.
Curt stuttered for a moment, “I — Bucky,” but suddenly realized it would be his pleasure to do just that.
A silence settled between them as they stood in the rain, their narrowed gazes in a standoff until Curt backed down and draped himself over the leather interior, his trunks pulled roughly below the plump curve of his ass that fucking jiggled when he spread his legs a little, perking his ass out for Bucky to spank.
“Make it a good one.” Curt quipped, his tone almost bordering mockery. “Or it’d be a shame you bent me over at all.”
Bucky had been a little pissed off by that one, but knew whole heartedly that had been the exact point — Curt knew what he was doing.
The buttons to push.
The buttons he licked with his tongue and bit with his canines until he drew blood.
The buttons he knew all too well.
A loud and heavy handed crack left a vivid and splotchy pink handprint over the delicious and a little bit sunburnt strawberry milky white skin of Curt’s right cheek, his knuckles bitten as he whined.
“I want an apology, Curtis.” Bucky bent over his body, nipping at his ear. “Not fair to take your frustration out on me, is it?”
Curt rolled his eyes, grinning into the leather of the seat beneath him as they replaced the new car smell with their own. “Fuck you.” He mumbled, going to sit up again until a hand forced him back down.
“What was that?” Bucky shoved Curt’s stance wider with his knee, feeling a hand back again to spank Curt’s left cheek that time. He hardly tensed up at it, seeming to melt under each crack against his skin.
What am I gonna do with you, Biddick?
“Hm?”
Curt wasn’t so tough eventually. All it took was three more good whips of skin against skin before he was back to begging for it. “Just let me sit on it while you drive.” He begged, clearly unaware how unrealistic and — even moreso— unsafe that sounded.
They had a schedule that day that allowed little wiggle room and Bucky had warned Curtis of this plenty before they made the reservations that they did.
We’ll have no time to play in between, Curtie. You realize that, right?
Curt nodded his head, encouraging Bucky to confirm their reservations.
I’m not an animal, Bucky. I can control myself. Jesus.
Lie.
“C’mon. We can make it work. Please.”
Bucky checked his watch and shook his head. “We have the tour you wanted to do in an hour, Curtis.” He pulled Curt’s trunks up and manhandled him into his seat despite his resistance. “And we’re not going to be fucking late because of your bullshit.”
He closed Curt’s door and made way around the vehicle to his own where he hopped in and turned over the engine, blasting the AC against their warm skin as O Mio Bambino Care droned through the speakers.
“I’m sorry.” Curt whispered, leaning over the middle console and pressing kisses to Bucky’s bicep and shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said — I — I was havin’ an outburst.”
Those happened often.
Curt was simply a hothead, too used to acting out on his first instinct, which was always anger.
Gale was helping him work through this, but wasn’t always around to be the mediator.
Bucky wasn’t going to let him hide behind that excuse forever, though. “No, you weren’t.” He mumbled. “You were being shitty just to be shitty.” He rolled a window down and lit a cigarette. “I didn’t come either, you know.” He looked toward Curtis again. “You don’t hear me crying about it.”
Curt scrambled in his seat, crawling into Bucky’s and subsequently falling into his lap, his back smashing against the horn but he didn’t give a fuck. At the very least, it made Bucky smile. “You’re right. I’m shitty. I was bein’ shitty just to be fuckin’ shitty. And I’m sorry.” He inhaled the smoke Bucky shared with him, their lips slotting together perfectly.
Bucky could never deny Curtis the satisfaction of an accepted apology — this wasn’t a real fight. It was nothing of the sort.
It was a squabble, yes, but in the end, it wouldn’t make or break anything.
Except a few of Bucky’s fragile nerves.
“Still doesn’t mean I’m gonna fuck you, honey.” Bucky smirked, cigarette between his teeth. “C’mon, back in your spot. We gotta get goin’.”
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star trek update time. last night we did the maquis parts 1 & 2 because i simply did not want to deal w tng.
the maquis (ds9)
standout moment for me in this entire two-parter was sisko's speech. ESPECIALLY good that in a fit of frustration he delivers it to kira and kira alone, whomst he maybe did shout a little bit at earlier because tensions were so high, and then he has the grace to look embarrassed and say he's glad someone understands. like it was the EXACT same thing she was yelling about earlier and he didn't take her as seriously as he might have, like, not in a delegitimizing way, but in a way that says he hasn't experienced that kind of helpless frustration for himself. and then he got to experience just the tiniest slice of what kira has and he Got It. you know?
ALSO SOOO TRUE THE PROBLEM IS EARTH!!!! it's easy to be a saint when you live in utopia. quark had a similar speech earlier in this series about how humans are friendly and wonderful when they have full bellies and working holosuites and they turn vicious without them. ds9 knows whats up
it's tempting to blame all this on picard but while picard did NOT act with honor the true villain is the nameless faceless politician that decided this would be a good boundary to draw and absolutely no one would have any problems with it. it's weird to me, in the age of constantly calling our government officials to make sure they don't cancel healthcare or tell them to stop bombing people, that no one would try to get to the bottom of this and figure out which person they're supposed to call to tell them it was a dumb idea and demand they change it. like, the border is drawn like this, it's an immutable fact of life and it's not gonna change. it feels so weird
anyway, kira was GREAT in this episode. she has so much to be angry about and so much she wants to give to make sure nobody has to suffer what she did. like she's so passionate about it and it comes from a place of love or at least compassion and it's such a nice detail. that she's so angry all the time because of love. man. she's so great
i recognized one of the maquis guys from tng i think! well, i'm bad with faces but it was at least one of the same costumes. i'm so sorry dude rip
one of the maquis guys has a passing resemblance to barclay. really jumpscared me
should have known hudson was a villain bc he asked inappropriate questions about dax. however, it was funny that sisko laughed off the idea of them sleeping together when they fucked twins or whatever
i liked the jennifer mention :( im sad sisko and cal couldn't make up...he tried until the very end
what i love about the ethical debate is that theyre both right. the maquis are right because the new border IS shit. it IS unfair and they DID get abandoned to the tender mercies of the cardassians, who are sure as shit not gonna let them stay there unbothered (that tng episode painting this as a happy ending...AS IF). like, they have every right to defend themselves since no one else is gonna do it
but sisko is ALSO RIGHT because escalating the conflict into full-blown warfare is gonna get even MORE people killed and make things even MORE miserable for the colonies affected, who have already been through more than enough. the colonists can make life harder for the cardassians, just like the bajorans did, but they can't actually win a war, they can only drive themselves into the ground doing it. at BEST they will make some nameless faceless border-drawer think twice the next time they draw a border
like, that's why i'm so shocked nobody suggested calling the politicians to making them redraw it. it's the only third option?!?!
quark and the vulcan was so funny. shoot your shot, buddy, even though you lost the love of your life two episodes ago. i was a little insulted he managed to out-logic her, but also reluctantly impressed. quark is always entertaining, i just wish he had a LITTLE more depth.
gul dukat...i admit i never gave him a second thought before this episode. now i am reaffirmed in my belief that all cardassians are gay. he exhibits such an energy. i really liked the part where he put the fear of god into the weapons runner even though sisko was ready to sit on him to keep him from touching the torpedo controls. such a fun dynamic for him to be going "murder? :D?" and for sisko to be playing straight man and yanking him down by the scruff of his neck every 5 minutes. fun fun fun. i do think he should have kept his mouth shut when he and kira were in the same room though. like i think he should have just chosen to not speak unless prompted.
i like how twice odo's ability to maintain security at the station was called into question and both times sisko was like oh absolutely not. and even still, the tension was nearly enough to cause in-fighting in what has become a pretty friendly group. it's both surprising and unsurprising how quickly they drew the battle lines, but even the non-federation people, kira and odo, snapped at each other. LITERALLY CALL THE POLITICIANS. EARTH IS THE PROBLEM
my one real nitpick is that i don't think it should be possible to resist a mind meld with "discipline." like, it's more interesting if cardassians have a special immunity, or if this particular vulcan is bad at it. i just don't buy that gul dukat happens to be that cool, it's too convenient. why bring up the mind meld at all in that case
otherwise 10/10 i had a fantastic time
TONIGHT: devil's deal means we have double tng, "firstborn" and "bloodlines." something about alexander and daimon bok from season 1??? looks rank. wish us luck.
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She Might Be Your Girl, But She's Calling Me Daddy (18+ Fic) (Ch. 2/3)
I've accepted the fact that some ideas just have to be fleshed out into multiple chapters...Harper appears in one of my other fics, Liberacion, but I'm excited to write more for her. The possibilities are endless! Hope you all love her stupid ass. 💙
As always, I appreciate the support. Anyway, enjoy Harper and Rhea's messiness!! Sorry to leave yall on a cliffhang-... No I'm not! 😹 💋
Disclaimer: All of the characters in this work of fiction are consenting adults. If the type of content I make sure to tag isnt your cup of tea, do not read it.
Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/OFC
Summary: Harper and Rhea have gotten themselves into a messy arrangement that threatens to tear them apart... Will either of them get their shit together?? CERTAINLY NOT IN THIS CHAPTER, PENDEJOS BAHAHAHA!
Tags: 18+, maaaybe some Daddy kink cuz like... have yall seen Rhea?? I haven't decided yet, though... consensual sex, friends with benefits, friends with benefits to lovers, angst. Looots of angst. And stupidity between two adults who are too chickenshit to just talk things through. You've been warned...
Word Count: 934
I 100% didn’t wanna go to dinner with Rhea, Danny, and everyone else.
I’ve had this sinking feeling in my stomach since I agreed to Rhea’s invitation, and that feeling has only grown since.
Something in Rhea’s demeanor made me feel like things could go south at the dinner real fuckin quick…
And again, I questioned things.
I couldn’t even begin to fathom why Rhea seemed a bit snarky when it came to Daniel, but it was beginning to get on my nerves.
In the last few days, I couldn’t bring Danny up without Rhea having some bullshit to say even though she claimed that we were cool.
Two seconds away from texting Rhea and coming with an excuse to cancel the whole thing, I saw my phone light up on my bedside table with a text from Corbs.
As of late, he’s been thoroughly enjoying the drama that has ensued.
Just by looking at him, I knew he was saying ‘’I told you so’’.
But I couldn’t think of that.
I couldn’t think that Rhea could even possibly feel the same way I did.
Why? I don’t know.
But the thought terrified me as much as it filled me with happiness.
It was a fuckin weird position to be in.
Sometimes I wished that I could fess up to Rhea, but something always held me back.
Laughing to myself, I did just that and slept a little bit more soundly.
As much as we liked to bust each other’s balls, Corbs and I trusted each other with our lives and I knew that despite him acting like a gossiping ole lady, he always had my best interest at heart.
If shit hit the fan at this dinner, I’d deal with it.
~~
As I got dressed earlier, I felt like I was in a bit of a haze.
I didn’t wanna overdo it since we weren’t going to a particularly fancy restaurant, so I settled for a Motionless in White muscle tee, some ripped jeans, lipstick, a cute purse and some cute heels.
I didn’t even think as I was getting dressed, but I wasn’t going to make that mistake again…
‘’Why are you so nervous? They’re not meeting you for the first time.’’ Danny chuckled and rubbed my thigh affectionately as he drove us to Applebees and my knee bounced anxiously up and down.
The closer we got to the restaurant; I felt a shred of that anxiety return.
This felt wrong.
Just wrong.
But I wanted things to work out with Danny.
I really did… I think?
No, I liked Danny.
And naturally, I wanted my friends to like him too.
‘’I’m not nervous! I’m just hungry.’’ I lied, sticking my tongue out playfully.
‘’Goin as fast as I can, babe.’’ Danny chuckled again as he spun the steering wheel smoothly and made a left. ‘’Are they there already?’’ He asked before I pulled my phone out from my purse to ask my friends just that.
My stomach flipped a little when I looked at my phone to see that Rhea and Corbs were already there.
The second we arrived, the fuckshit began…
As Rhea eyes scanned my body up and down, and I saw her eyes zero in on my slightly oversized tee, my stomach sank.
There was recognition in her eyes.
A realization that made me realize my silly mistake.
The smirk on her face was very much like the cat who was just about to eat the canary and I immediately put 2 and 2 together, but it was too late.
‘’Oh! I was wondering where that shirt went. Good to know its in safe its in safe hands,’’ she said and winked at me before she settled back into the booth and lazily sipped her drink.
I could feel my face heat up and Danny’s grip on my hand went a bit slack.
I gave it a squeeze, but I said nothing.
The shirt was just fuckin comfortable, okay?
Her comment was completely unnecessary.
‘Oh, shut up. You know you love wearing something of hers. You always have. It makes you feel… hers.’’ That pesky voice in the back of my head piped in for the 28248438th time in the last few months.
‘’We already ordered drinks since we got here a bit early.’’ Baron said to Danny and me after he introduced himself to fill the silence.
‘’Oh ok!’’ I replied and I awkwardly slid into the booth next to Danny and across from Rhea.
When the boys arrived, the agony continued.
‘’So, you guys met on the road?’’ Dom asked, looking between me and Danny who stood almost rim-rod straight in the booth.
The tension between him and Rhea could be cut with a chainsaw, and I wanted nothing more than to run out of there and go home and cuddle with a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
‘’We did. When you guys came to Missouri, Harper and I ran into each other at a bookstore. I was there shopping with my little sister. She actually recognized Harper,’’ Danny laughed, and I blushed.
Rhea’s eyes went to me before landing back on Danny.
‘’We got to talkin’ and here we are.’’ Danny smiled at me.
I gave him a small smile that I tried to mean, then I focused back on my food.
‘’Harper didn’t mention that. So modest.’’ Rhea said while Finn, Corbin and Dom sat back and pretty much watched this all unfold.
This was starting to feel like a trainwreck I couldn’t stop.
‘’Are you fan of pro wrestling?’’ Damian asked Danny.
His tone or demeanor weren’t unkind, but I could see him observing Danny closely.
Damian was as easygoing as he was observant, not much went past him.
‘’My little sister is more so than me. I haven’t watched any of the shows in a minute. Sorry!’’ Daniel cringed playfully, making everyone laugh softly.
Except Rhea, of course.
‘’Really? That’s odd… your Instagram says that you were at the last years’ Rumble. And the year after that… and the one after that too. Seems a bit much for not being a fan.’’ She said, raising a brow slightly as Daniel stammered before he recovered.
“Well like I said, my sister loves watching. And her birthday usually falls around that time. So, I took her to a couple Royal Rumbles,’’ he shrugged.
But Rhea wouldn’t let up and I had had enough.
‘’So why isn’t she in any of those pos-‘’ She started to go back in until I held a hand up.
‘’Rhea, can I talk to you for a sec?’’ I smiled politely, getting up with her and dumping my napkin onto the table.
Danny’s flustered reaction did raise some alarm bells, I’ll admit.
But I still thought that Rhea was outta order.
‘’What the hell’s your problem with Danny? Ever since you’ve known of his existence you’ve done nothing but act like a complete douche about him. What is wrong?’’ I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, and leaned against the wall of the hallway leading into the ladies’ bathroom.
‘’I don’t trust him.’’ Rhea shrugged and I scoffed.
‘’On what grounds? Because his little sister isn’t plastered on his Instagram? She’s a child, Rhea! Maybe her parents don’t want her face all over the internet. Ever thought of that?!’’ I exclaimed before I remembered we were in public, and I lowered my voice.
‘’He’s a gym bro, he’s been to a couple shows- and not just Rumbles- and he’s claiming that he doesn’t watch any of it? Gimme a break, Harper. You can’t be this dense…’’ Rhea said impatiently, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
I squinted at her, jolting back a bit.
‘’Are you implying… are you implying that Danny’s only with me to get a foot in the door in the business?’’ I asked, my jaw dropping a bit at her bluntness and a little bit hurt.
Seeing the hurt in my eyes, Rhea grabbed my hand.
Just that small touch felt like heaven despite how irritated I was, and I once again remembered where we were.
And more importantly, with whom.
‘’Babe, I’m only looking out for you. I’m not getting good vibes, that’s all… but if you want me to back off, I’ll back off.’’ She murmured.
I knew some part of her did mean well.
But she wasn’t going about it in the best way, and I wasn’t about to let that slide.
I’ve let too much slide from her as it is.
Though I’ll admit I felt like a giant hypocrite.
Deep down I knew that I was only defending Danny this hard because I wanted to keep living this bullshit lie.
But nobody had to know that.
‘’Good. No more snide shitty comments, no more incessant questions… just, no more. Okay?’’ I demanded.
Rhea nodded, agreeing to behave for the rest of the evening.
And she did.
Little did I know things were about to come to an explosive halt soon…
(Next Part)
(Prev. Part)
#rhea ripley#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley imagine#rhea ripley fic#rhea ripley x fanfic#rhea ripley x fanfiction#rhea ripley x smut#rhea ripley angst#wwe fic#wwe fanfic#wwe smut#wwe angst#wwe fan fiction
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